#Anyway this is just a thought I had today

[sheepispink]

lt simon riley x hybrid!reader in which you're forced into his life and he cant handle it, ignoring your existence until you talk to inanimate objects to make up for it. angst ofc

sorry if this is lowkey bad, my writing has been flopping rn (inspired by a mdni’s work summary, i have removed the link because i am unsure as to how to address this properly.)

edit: i am aware that the og had more than a few similarities to the op who i credited’s work. I have responded here

The news of a hybrid being assigned to him was the worst possible, maybe even comparable to the time he had to wear full gear in the middle east. There was just something about it he didnt like, not that he wanted to stereotype their kind but some could be so clingy, so needy and to think he’s have that, following him around? . But what he hates more is the way you’re sitting outside his flat door when he hears the knock, wide eyes trying to entice him to your outstretched hand. Though unfortunately for you, he just closes the door again.

For the first week, you tried over and over again. He didn't seem to want to talk to you at all, let alone acknowledge that you were in his house. The only instructions he ever spoke was to not leave the house nor damage anything inside the house. It wasn't like you’d attempt to test either rules on purpose anyway. Instead, you tried to be useful by cleaning up where you could, even if you couldn't help but get distracted by how fun sliding across the freshly mopped floors were. Plus, blanket forts were so fun to make, what do you mean they made more mess? You switched to cooking soon after, attempting to make him breakfast except every time you tried to wake up early, he was always already gone. So, you wake up extra, extra early, finding out he wakes at five and so you wake up at four the next day. You decide on sizzled meat rashers, a fried egg and a toaster waffle because you don't really understand how the oven works. It’s not your fault his has so many funny buttons.

Unfortunately for you, his hearing is almost as good as yours, or perhaps he just never sleeps properly. That’s why he walked in just when you were nodding off in a bowl of cracked eggs, the time too early for a young one like you, even if you were well into your twenties. He left the house with a slam that day.

After that you stopped trying, noticing it to be clearly obvious that he didn't want anything to do with you in the slightest. He didn't even glance at you, or ask if you wanted to eat anymore. The only reminder that you actually lived here were the remnants of your fur on the fluffy pillow that was your bed, and your name written on your pre-bought meals since he didn't trust you in his kitchen anymore. Questions were left to hang in the air, soft whines echoing around the empty room each night and only the dim TV for company.

Ghost had returned early today, a problem in base had left the place in slight disarray and the task force thought it’d be better if they just packed up for the day, maybe do paperwork at home instead. He clicks open the door, surprised to actually hear noise in the usually silent flat, though he’s already dreading whatever mess you’ve cooked up. As he enters the hallway, the noise becomes clearer, sounding like a voice, your voice, actually. “This is a super secret covert meeting, alright everyone? No one can know!” You squeak, and he’s raising a brow, mind already jumping to conclusions of you being a double agent sent to spy on him. He should’ve known they’d pull a dirty trick like that, especially with how Graves has been acting, there’s bound to be others to follow. But to infiltrate his own home is something that brings him great anger, making him all the more silent when he sneaks around the house, mind running through potential ways he’ll interrogate the information out of you.

A double agent was far too much credit for you though. You were just a silly animal who was sitting on the sofa opposite a tatty teddy bear, a pillow with a messily drawn paper face stuck to it and a t-shirt that you had draped over a pillow, the cartoon cat staring back at you. They have mugs in front of them, albeit not full of anything apart from your own mug of tea. “Just kidding, let’s order then we can start.”

You hum, pretending to take a list from the bear though it’s actually those takeaway menus that come through the letterbox. He watches carefully as you pick up one at random, eyes squinting as you attempt and almost fail to read the text. Facilities never bothered with educating their hybrids, only intent in teaching them the arts of being loyal and desirable so they’d get their pay.

“Men….u? St.. art…eer?” It’s near impossible to understand any of it, and eventually you have to put it down, huffing out a complaint. “Okay fine, i can't read at all.” Frustrated, you pull off the t-shirt, leaving the pillow to fall on the floor. You’ve watched countless videos, only with the help of the voice recognition function on the remote control, and have attempted daily for this whole week. “So what have you guys done this week?”

He notices now that you have the tv displaying an episode from those random TV series, you probably don't even know the name of it. You’re almost attempting to recreate the same scene of the friends sitting around the table, eyes flickering at the TV as you eye how they sit. You mimic a squeaky voice, holding the teddy bear by the scruff as you move its head around. “I went to the park with my handler.”

Somehow your eyes light up despite the fact you had made that up yourself, clapping your hands together. “Wow, I love the park! I wish I could chase the squirrels…” Your expression falters for a second, eyes drooped until you shake your head, moving to puppet the pillow in the middle instead. “I went to the movies with mine, and then we got icecream.”

You smile again, retracting your hand and placing it on your hips. “Damn, icecream too! ..Um.. It doesn’t matter what I did. We should do something together, but it has to be something easy.. and not too fun because if we leave a mess Simon will be mad.” He almost feels bad, but it’s not his fault, you will make a mess, and he’s already tired enough as it is. What he hadn't expected was what you’d say next.

“I don't think we’ll be able to do these meetups anymore guys.” You mumble out, frown growing on your lips as you puppeteer the bear. “What, why?”

“I-i think I’ll be getting kicked out soon. Or maybe I should just run away.. Should I? I mean, it’s not a totally bad idea and Simon won't have to deal with me!”

You stare back at the two fake people in front of you, the silence hanging heavy in the air until you reach forward, plucking the paper smiley face off the pillow and sticking on a sad face instead. “I know, I know— running away is bad and I'll only get hurt. What else then?”

The silence is long again and for once Simon can feel the distraught look on your face as you clench the hem of your loose sweater, nose wrinkled. It’s clear you’re not feeling too good, especially if you’ve resorted to talking to your own stuffed animals about running away to make him happier. It’s a pitiful sight to say the least but he can't blame you either, he’s purposefully ignored every single one of your feeble attempts to talk to him. It’s not like it helps that you’ve been cooped in a house for two weeks straight, not able to talk to anyone else. Now that he’s forced to notice, forced to think about it, it’s clear he’s torturing you, in some sick unintentional way. You’re locked away, a prisoner, a ghost— someone no one even knows exists despite how much you cry and beg for a sound to be made.

The small shuffle of your steps is sad, the way you put everything into position perfectly in case he gets annoyed, not that he’d ever express it anyway– sometimes you wish he just would say something, anything. But he doesn't, and you take the tatty teddy bear, hugging it to your chest. Not even your tail can bring you much warmth, the matted fur rough against your skin as you’ve failed to upkeep it’s maintenance the more miserable you grow.

You wont stay here for long, you’ll be moved elsewhere and grow older, less ‘desirable’ as you lose all your hybrid fluffiness until you’re finally left on the streets, scavenging bins for food like your parents did. A cycle that only repeats for you.

—————-

part 2 (coming soon, ask to be tagged)

other hybrid drabble i did

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

SUBTLE IS A STRONG WORD

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe uses a tiktok trend to his advantage.

based on this request !! i hope it’s what you asked for @ursogorgeous13 , i decided to take the fluff route because it just worked :) I AM BACK THOUGH !! please read the authors note at the bottom !! <3

(check out my other rafe cameron & drew starkey works here !!)

WARNINGS: allusions to sex (oral m!rec), flirty!rafe, just pure fluff !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 800 words (approx.)

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N was curled up on Rafe's couch, scrolling through her phone while waiting for him to get back with their coffee. The AC was blasting, the distant sound of waves from Figure Eight's beach hummed in the background, and the scent of Rafe's cologne still lingered on his hoodie that she had stolen.

It was one of those lazy afternoons where neither of them had anywhere to be, so they had fallen into their usual routine: Y/N begged for coffee, Rafe pretended to complain about being her personal delivery boy, and then he left anyway because he secretly loved spoiling her.

She had spent the past few days showing him countless TikToks about the new Starbucks cup policy-baristas were now writing random little messages on cups, ranging from generic "Have a nice day!" notes to weirdly specific fortunes. She thought it was adorable. Rafe? Less so. He mostly nodded along, unimpressed, while she giggled at each new video.

But today, when he finally returned, drinks in hand, Y/N barely had time to thank him before she noticed the writing on the cups.

Her curiosity piqued, she reached for her cup first, eyes scanning the message.

"Give your bf a BJ❤️”

She blinked. Then, suspicious, she grabbed Rafe's cup.

"A BJ is coming your way❤️”

For a moment, she just stared at them, processing. And then, slowly, a grin stretched across her face.

"You have got to be kidding me." She turned the cups toward him, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe, the smug bastard, didn't even try to look innocent. If anything, he looked proud of himself.

"What?" he said, flopping onto the couch next to her, taking his drink from her hand.

Y/N bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "Rafe."

"Mm?"

"These messages." She tapped a finger against the cup. "You do realise I can recognise your handwriting, right?"

Rafe choked on his sip, coughing dramatically before shooting her an unconvincing look of confusion. "Pfft. What? That's-Y/N, that's wild. You think / wrote that?"

"Yes, I know you wrote it."

"You don't know that," he countered, but the twitch of his lips betrayed him.

Y/N leaned in, tilting her head. "So you're telling me that the coffee shop employees, out of the kindness of their hearts, just randomly decided to write this on our cups?"

"Sounds like it," he said, nodding solemnly. "Real ones. We should tip them."

Y/N burst out laughing. "Rafe! You're ridiculous."

"I'm a visionary, actually." He leaned back, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. "I'm just taking advantage of an opportunity when I see one."

She smirked, setting her drink down before shifting closer to him. "So, let me get this straight... You went through the trouble of faking a Starbucks trend just so you could subtly ask for-"

“'Subtly' is a strong word," Rafe interrupted, grinning. "I think it was actually pretty direct."

YN shook her head, chuckling. "You do realise I could have been the one to grab the drinks, right? What if you weren't able to intercept them first?"

Rafe shrugged. "Then I'd be in jail for public indecency, but it would've been worth it."

She laughed, shaking her head at him. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet, you're still here." He shot her a wink.

"Against my better judgment."

"Oh, please. You love it."

Y/N bit her lip, pretending to consider. "Mmm, maybe."

Rafe smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Sooo... you gonna listen to the cup's advice or what?"

She gasped dramatically. "Rafe Cameron! | am shocked that you would ever suggest such a thing."

"Shocked?" He arched a brow. "Y/N, you're literally straddling me right now."

“…Touché."

Rafe chuckled, his hands settling on her waist as she playfully toyed with the collar of his polo shirt.

"You know what would be funny?" she mused.

"If you actually followed through?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing. "No, dumbass. Next time, I should be the one to write something on the cups."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what would you write?"

She leaned in, her lips just brushing his ear as she whispered, "No blowjobs for guys who fake Starbucks messages."

Rafe groaned. "Alright, you got me. That was a dirty trick."

Y/N smirked, patting his cheek. "And yet, you're still here."

He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled her closer. "Fine, fine. But just so you know-" He gestured to the cups on the table. "—the next one's definitely gonna say 'Marry your boyfriend!"

Y/N snorted. "Smooth."

"I try."

And with that, he flipped them over, pressing her into the couch as she giggled beneath him.

Yeah, she was definitely writing the next one.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

hi everyone !! i’m back of holiday and i’m also older now (i had my 20th birthday !!), so sorry for going MIA but i just stayed off social media for my entire birthday trip but i’m going to be back to regular posts and updates <3

my drew starkey fic inspired by ‘sports car’ by tate mcrae will be up soon, been working on it today !! fulfilling requests at the moment so there should be another one up tonight :)

(a reminder that is is strictly fictional guys !!)

[covenofagatha]

Spitroasting with g!p Agatha and g!p Rio

*gasp* who said that 🫢

I'm definitely not thinking about the same thing 👀 anyways...

Two is better than one

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, g!p Rio, spitroasting, daddy Rio, mommy Agatha, threesome, squirting, degradation, praise, light spanking

When Agatha gets home from work, the first thing she hears when she steps into the kitchen is the faint sound of slapping skin and your high-pitched whines and she chuckles to herself. 

Rio was always easier to break than she was, all it took is that doe-eyed look you do so well coupled with a daddy, please, and Rio couldn’t resist. 

So Agatha slowly steps up the stairs, careful to not make a sound lest she alert either of you. She creeps to the doorway and peeks around it, and the fabric of her pants instantly tightens. 

Rio’s got you on your knees and elbows on the bed, one hand wound in your hair, the other gripping your hip tightly, while she quickly thrusts her cock inside you. When she draws out, Agatha can see her length glistening with your wetness. Rio’s face is contorted with pleasure and Agatha wonders how long she’s been fucking you. 

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” Rio barks, slapping her hand on your ass and you emit another moan. 

It takes you a moment to respond because of the dizziness in your head. “So fucking good, daddy, your cock is so deep inside me — fuck, daddy, please!” 

“Better hope mommy doesn’t come home and see what a slut you’re being right now,” Rio grunts, pushing you down further into the mattress and you gasp at the new angle. She’s hitting your g-spot with every time and you can feel your orgasm building up. Tension is coiling in your body and you just need a bit more—

“Oh, well mommy is here,” Agatha says, stepping into the room and clapping slowly. “And she certainly does see what a slut you are.” Rio freezes inside you, her cock pulsing. You turn your head to watch Agatha walk over to you while you start to lazily move back and forth on Rio’s cock, who hisses. You’re by the edge of the bed so she comes to stand right in front of you.

“Hi, mommy,” you greet casually amidst the squelching sounds you’re making. If you act like her darling little girl, maybe she won’t punish you too badly. There’s an unspoken rule that you and Rio have to get Agatha’s permission before having sex, and you definitely didn’t today. 

In fact, Agatha told you this morning before she left in no uncertain terms, that you and Rio had to wait until she got home today. 

But then you had gotten horny and it doesn’t take much to convince Rio to fuck you. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” she says, tracing her fingers over your lips before shoving them into your mouth. You gag, eyes rolling to look up at her through your eyelashes, and you don’t miss the flicker of heat in her eyes. “You know I could hear you the second I got home?” 

You try to look embarrassed. “Whoops.” 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and pulls her sticky fingers out before wiping them on your cheeks. “Well, if you want the entire neighborhood to know what a slut you are for us, that’s fine.” She unbuckles her belt from her pants, slides it out, and throws it somewhere across the room. “But, you see, honey, mommy and daddy have a reputation to uphold.” She undoes the button to her pants and drags the zipper down slowly. “So I think I need to shut you up.” 

She pulls out her already-hard cock and you involuntarily clench around Rio. Her nails dig into your hips but you barely even feel it over how drunk you feel. You’ve never had both of them inside you at the same time. 

“Keep going, Rio,” Agatha orders, stroking her cock and watching the way your face changes when Rio starts to thrust back into you roughly. Agatha’s cock gets harder under her hand and your mouth is watering from the thought of tasting her. 

Rio’s cock is longer, but Agatha’s is girthier, so your jaw always hurts more after giving the older woman a blowjob. But the ache is delicious during it, and you can’t even imagine how good it’s going to feel to have Rio this deep inside you while Agatha fucks your mouth. 

Agatha waits until you’re a moaning mess before knocking Rio’s hand that’s holding onto your hair aside, taking its place with her own hand, and dragging her hot cock against your lips. She spreads her precum all over you, getting your cheeks and chin covered as well, before positioning it at your open mouth. 

You look up at her pleadingly and she slaps her cock against your stuck-out tongue a few times, making you moan at the weight. 

And then she pushes in all while Rio is pounding into you hard. 

Agatha starts out with shallow thrusts, just bobbing into your mouth and pulling back, and Rio’s grunts get louder behind you, her pace becoming more erratic. 

When Agatha finally gets her cock all the way down your throat, she pauses for a moment and just revels in the way your mouth feels around her, and you hollow out your cheeks and suck, making her whimper. 

Rio slows down, more than likely to stave off her own orgasm, so you’re being gently rocked forward onto Agatha’s cock. But then Agatha starts to move her hips and Rio matches her, and they’re both using you at the same time and you’ve never felt pleasure this intense before. 

“Look at our little whore, Rio,” Agatha chokes out and you can barely hear her over the wet sounds from your cunt and your gagging. You cough around her cock and it sends spittle pouring down your chin. “Taking both our cocks like the good slut she is. So fucking desperate for us. Oh, fuck—” You rub your tongue against the underside of her cock, where she’s really sensitive, and she pitches forward. 

“Such a good girl for mommy and daddy,” Rio coos before spanking you roughly. You whimper and the vibrations make Agatha’s hand tighten in your hair. Your jaw starts to burn but you try to relax and open a bit wider so Agatha can keep using your mouth. “Are we making you feel good, doll?” 

You babble something but it’s completely unintelligible with Agatha’s cock in your mouth and the fog in your brain, so you settle for nodding your head. Rio pulls your hips up to arch your back even more and you moan loudly, but it’s muffled. Rio is hitting so deep inside you that your toes are curling and your eyes are rolling back into your head. Both of their cocks are throbbing inside you and you know none of you are going to be able to last much longer. 

Your pussy clenches sporadically around Rio’s cock and your throat convulses around Agatha’s, and both of them are grunting with the effort of fucking you. You miss the shared glance between them and then all of a sudden, their thrusts match. They both push in and out of you at the same time and it’s completely overwhelming. 

“So fucking good,” Agatha rasps, both of them speeding up and your eyes gloss over. Tension like you’ve never felt is skating through your body, heat thrumming in your veins, and you feel everything. It’s all heightened — the way Rio’s cock drags against your walls, the way Agatha’s cock twitches against your tongue, you’re hyper-aware of Rio’s nails in your hips and Agatha’s hands both tangled in your hair. “Taking our cocks like a perfect slut. Our perfect slut. So good for mommy and daddy.” 

Rio starts to rut into you, shallowly but still quickly, and it feels like her cock is swelling inside you. “Fuck, doll, daddy’s gonna cum.” 

A thrill runs through you and you clench around her even more, but Agatha tightly says, “Not yet. Wait for me. We’re going to fill her up at the same time.” A loud keen rips itself out of your mouth, clear as day even with Agatha’s rough thrusts. Your throat is raw and your jaw is aching and tears are pouring down your face, mixing with the saliva on your chin, but you’re so fucking close and you need them to cum. Pressure is building up in your stomach in a way that’s never happened before, almost like you have to pee. 

But then they both give you a really hard thrust and the pressure explodes. You let out a sob and then you feel a gush of wetness and instant relief and Rio whimpers. 

“She fucking squirted,” Rio moans in awe, her breathing growing heavier. Agatha makes a pained sound and you know that they’re both so close.

So you suck Agatha’s cock roughly and she swears before stiffening. Rio sees this and drives her hips into you one last time before their warm seed spreads. You fall apart even more as they pump their cum into you, all three of you groaning and grunting. 

Agatha pulls out first and you gasp for breath, the cum that you didn’t swallow leaking out the side of your mouth. She cleans her cock off using your face and then swipes at the trail of cum with a finger and stuffs it back into your mouth. 

Rio stays inside you until she softens, both of you enjoying the feeling of her twitching every now and then when you clench from an aftershock. When her cock slips out of your body, her cum oozes out in globs and you fall onto the bed, absolutely spent and panting. 

The younger woman comes to stand in front of you next to Agatha and you can see how absolutely soaked you got her. There’s another pang of heat inside you when you take in how wet their cocks are. 

Agatha begins to slowly stroke hers and your breath catches in your throat when it slowly starts to harden again. 

“Let’s give her a second to recover,” she says, looking at Rio, “and then we switch. I want to know how her pussy feels after you’ve already cum inside it.” 

You can’t help the moan that escapes you. 

Fuck. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs

[frogsandfries]

AAVE used to bother me. Just bother me, not piss me off, not make me like, wanna kill or anything. Just, why can't they use the language 'properly'.

The woman who raised me was the most racist person I think I've ever met (why no, I have never been to the US south).

But it's funny, because in school, I loved studying the US public school version of how English came to be. We didn't really know about proto-Indoeuropean at the time, but we knew about the influence of ancient Greek and German on the English language. Being a big reader and writer, I was obsessed with using the language "correctly".

I stopped writing for a long time because of reasons, and I was able to step back and really appreciate the value of literacy but also appreciate that there is no Proper English. The thing we skipped over in high school English and language arts classes is that contemporary English is not the same language it was when it first recognizably departed from vulgar Latin and German. It's not the same language as it was before its brushes with French and surely the Celtic language group.

It's okay for spoken language to be different from written language (but it's still "could/should/would HAVE" NOT "c/s/w OF"; pronounce it however you like, but understand grammatically what you're saying if you caption your own videos).

Furthermore, while I'm up here on my soap box, I wish my English teachers would have talked about creoles and pidgins as they are: There's nothing wrong with creoles and pidgins. It is human nature to want to communicate and connect and language is an integral part of that connection. But perhaps telling us that using the language in a non-standard way would have required a whole separate class for like, English theory. It definitely would've had more kids complaining "why do I even need to know the rules if they're all bullshit anyway". Me loudest of all.

Since stepping away from my childhood creative writing practice, I've gotten to participate more in the verbal use of language, and my visual arts studies definitely contributed to the way I see English--a centuries old creole, a language that has always been absorbing and adapting the languages it encounters. The reason I mention my visual arts background is, you know that picture of the vase but it's also two faces? Being strong in written English was me focusing so hard on the vase, I thought people talking about two faces were like, morally decrepit. Slang comes and goes, but the classical core of the language is definitely always there. Definitely. Always.

The internet has been a fascinating component to add to the mix of the English language (being not fluent in any other languages, I cannot and would not speak to the internet's impact on, say, ASL, US Spanish, or French, the only three languages that I'm familiar enough with to try to use on another human). Most of the evolution of the English language has typically come from teenaged girls, if my information is correct. Definitely, unquestionably teenagers. And in the last few years, we see every several weeks, a new slang word--yeet, bussin, ATE (whatever the hell that is)--enters the greater lexicon (we need to be able to communicate with these damn sacrilegious teens somehow!). The world moves so fast for these teenagers, today's 'ate' is literally yesterday's 'crunk'. It's 'cringe', if you will, by the time the adults get ahold of it. We do kind of need to hold onto some kind of core skeleton of the English language so that the oldest and most out of touch of us can still communicate with the linguistically hippest of us. In this regard, at least understanding the 'traditional' use and structure of the language since the shift from Middle English, and not necessarily being versed in prepositions versus passive language, is going to be important when trying to communicate from one group (let's say teens) to another group (let's say Louisiana creole).

And sometimes, the slang the adults get ahold of sticks--in contemporary history 'dude', 'whatever' as a one-word sentence, and 'my bad', are some examples. It's hard to tell which of 2025's slang words will have engraved itself so hard into the fabric of the English language that we're still using it in 2050, but even the words that are here today cringe in five minutes will leave their invisible mark on the ever continuing evolution of the English language.

Umm, anyway, sorry. I got a little eager to celebrate the English language as it actually is, not as it is in classic literature.

Even the teenage, rebellious use of the language (what even the fuck is skibidi??), while it bothers me because these days, it's less about differentiating yourself from boring grown-ups and I'm pretty sure, from a non-linguist perspective, just using language in as incomprehensible manner as possible as a bit. I respect the desecration of the English language; I'm quite confident that's what most of my peers wished they could do in high school English classes when we were learning about dumb, useless shit like superlative conjugates and coagulative transitives or whatever the fuck (for such a strong writer with an easily identifiable written voice in high school, I failed high school grammar. I found it incomprehensible and useless; I already had a powerful grasp of the way to use the English language, out loud and on paper. I didn't need to explain to anybody why you order adjectives the way you do; you just do).

See that, right there? I just did it. I just admitted that I don't find any use for the jargon of the "laws" of the English language. Because language is just a tool for communicating. As long as I can speak to you and you have even generally a vague idea of what I want (like my problem with 'ate' isn't *rolls my eyes* kids these days; my problem is, what is the etymology?? Why are you using that word like thhhaaaatttttttt *tries to shake an answer out of you*), I care less every day how anyone uses the language (except for c/sh/would OF vs HAVE I will bite you).

Now, (okay, sorry to carry on like this) as a creative writer, I am a straight-laced Dr Jekyll. Written language isn't about immediate communication. As far as I'm concerned, written language should be comprehensible between yourself and generations that don't exist yet. A dime novel may be meant to be read and thrown away, but even fifty years later, I should be able to pick up your cheap shitty writing and be able to read it and understand it. As far as I'm concerned, writing should not be littered with the slang of the moment. Like I said, today's 'skibidi' is tomorrow's 'jive turkey'. No, I did not make that up. I actually can't find one singular definition for jive turkey; it looks like there were at least three accepted ways to use it. I think it makes my point for me. If I write that John is a jive turkey, is he out of touch, is he unreliable or exaggerating, or is he being a showy dancer?

In my opinion, if you are educated enough to write essays, blogs, or more, you are educated enough to write in a way that will be comprehended by future generations of people who use your dialect. If that's Australian English (no shade, but you Aussies must know you use English differently from USians), if that's AAVE, if that's Louisiana creole, if that's US English, whatever.

In my opinion, the reason one makes the effort to write words (which is a different level from a Facebook or Twitter post or just making a phone call or sending a text), in a blog that will be gone in five years, in a cheap notebook that maybe you'll throw away, a nice journal that your great, great grand-daughter will find one day, or in that book that you self-published, is to preserve your words, your thoughts, in a way that will outlast 'apple butter' (smooth talk) and 'duck butt' (think Elvis' hair).

Plus, words on paper just should be beautiful. Imo.

not only are there no bad languages there are also no bad or annoying dialects

[littelovelunette]

absolutely filthy gp!sevika request incoming >:)

i was just thinking about how she’d hold your legs open as she fucks you into the mattress because she wants to see exactly what she’s doing to you…

and when you can tell that she’s close you beg her to cum inside and she gives in and does cause she simply couldn’t help herself…

anyways do with that what you will!!! hehe

Absolutely filthy G!P Sevika coming up, it's long 1.1k words, haha enjoy, babies

The November Challenge

Contains smut, degradation, cnc, sevika has a dick, clit play, anal, anal virginity, squirting, spanking, praising, fingering

You thought it would be funny to make Sevika commit to the No-Nut-November challenge.

Given her attitude to a challenge, of course she didn't turn it down but she didn't wanna take it either.

All throughout the month before the last, Sevika struggled to hold herself back from stroking her big veiny cock, morning woods were the hardest to deal with, and she had to restrain herself whenever you both showered together.

You were proud of her, of course, but couldn't help laughing at the miserable grumbles and other ungodly noises she'd make when she was horny.

Sevika's libido had always been high and you knew it, she needed to go to the brothel so often, due to it, before you both became an exclusive thing and got married. But, her sex drive now was even higher with you.

What, she can't help it, you're just too pretty, aren't you?

Today was 30th November and the night was coming to an end, you both finished having dinner and were cuddling in bed.

“I'm so glad this stupid challenge is finally over,” Sevika grumbled and shoved her face in your hair, taking a long sniff which gave both of you comfort.

“Mhm? You've been struggling so much this month,” you cooed, running your fingers as you traced her abs under her shirt. She rolled her eyes at your slightly mocking tone.

Eyes flickering to the clock every now and then, Sevika's arm around you tightened a little as the minute hand ticked and ticked, getting closer indicating that the month was over.

Anticipation filled your chest as you watched Sevika's intense gaze towards the clock and the moment the hour hand hits twelve, she flipped you onto your stomach.

Sevika's body on top again, finally, as she pressed kisses at the nape of your neck, biting in an animalistic manner.

This was the beast she'd held in for so long, she pulled and tugged at your clothes, her hardened member rubbing against your ass cheeks making you giggle, “Needy?”

Sevika growled in response, taking her own clothes off, giving you space so you could pull your shirt up, the red bra clad breasts made her cock ooze out an impressive amount of precum. “Mmmm,” she hummed, palming your breasts before she pulled the bra off, unclasping it with her mechanical fingers, your breasts falling into their natural place had her almost drooling.

Well, she drools a lot.

You pulled your pajamas off, along with your pristine white, now drenched and soiled with your discharge, panties off.

“I don't even care about foreplay anymore,” Sevika said before she, without warning, thrusted her huge cock inside you.

“Sevika!” You screamed out, scratching at her shoulder as you tightened around her cock, her eyes rolled back as she felt the warmth of your tight, clenching pussy, “T-too much.” you stuttered and whimpered.

“You can take it,” she reassured, though not so gently, and started ramming into your pussy, her thrusts careless and sloppy as she continued fucking into your hole, making you see stars.

Her hands came down to grab your thighs as she forced them to spread, they were closing because of the pleasure and pain in your hole.

You hadn't had anything inside you for a month, and now the sudden intrusion made your pussy feel a burning stretch that felt absolutely delicious.

Your breasts were bouncing up and down, one hand tangling in the sheets while the other held onto Sevika's bulging bicep, “F-f-fuck!”

You managed to let out a stuttering curse word, only egging Sevika on further.

Sevika growled, “Taking me so well, little slut, I'm gonna ruin this hole,” she thrusted harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Touch yourself,” she ordered and you started rubbing your clitoris, your other hand playing with your nipple as she continued fucking you.

“Daddy, feels too good, please cu-cum…” you begged and blabbered.

Drool, tears and sweat running down your face as she completely ruined you.

“What a slut,” Sevika spat as she continued her actions, and with two powerful thrusts, she shot thick ropes of semen deep in your womb, making your toes curl and you squirted on her length right after.

Your back arched and lifted off the mattress momentarily while your legs and hands twitched.

Sevika's thrusting barely ceased, she thrusted a few more times before she collapsed on the sheets beside you.

Your thighs and back fell back down on the mattress, chest heaving up and down rapidly as you tried to calm down.

“S-So rough…” you managed a small whiny complaint, semen oozing out of your abused hole. Sevika only chuckled in response, “So wasted, my little dolly.”

She didn't stop there, she got up, lining her cock up against your asshole making you whimper and shake your head. “Daddy, no…”

You got on your knees and tried to crawl away but Sevika took the chance, grabbing your forearms and shoving her cock in your asshole.

Your eyes widened, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cried into the pillow, “Daddy, no! Not in my butt!” You sniffled and cried.

“Stop being such a whiny slut,” Sevika let go of your arms to send a harsh slap on your ass making your hips jerk a little, she grabbed your waist with both hands and started ramming into your asshole.

The burning pain was too much, making your legs shake and your hands started clawing at the sheets in an attempt to find comfort. Sevika pulled out a little, spitting on her cock, shoving it back in your ass and within a few more thrusts, it started feeling like a different sort of pleasure completely.

Her huge, veiny cock was slipping in and out of your asshole with ease, arousal dropping from your pussy and onto the sheets.

You never felt so humiliated and spent.

“Taking daddy's cock so well,” she slapped your ass and continued thrusting, “Please, daddy, it hurts so much…” you protested weakly but she didn't stop.

“C'mon you can do it, you're my girl aren't you?” Sevika threw her head back as you tensed up, asshole clenching, “Fuck, do that again.”

You blinked a little in confusion and moaned when she thrusted and you clenched again.

You gasped, “D-d-daddy!—” as she cam inside your asshole too.

Sevika slowly slipped her cock out of your body, watching as your asshole twitched a little, cum seeping out.

“Pretty,” she mumbled, shoving in a finger lazily fingering you.

“Daddy, can't, not anymore,” you whispered but she didn't cease her fingering, her mechanical hand slipping down to rub your pussy, pinching your clit.

Your face contorted as you squirted. Sevika helped you onto your back and gave you a moment to catch your breath before she gave you a soft kiss on the head.

“Let's get you a bubble bath now.”

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Hello, I hope you are well.

eI'm thinking A LOT about a reader who is completely obsessed with Logan, like they're in a relationship, and she doesn't hide the fact that she's completely in love and compassionate with him because she knows everything this poor man has been through and just wants to take care of him and make him happy, and Logan is kind of lost because no one has ever done this for him and he feels very loved and wants to reciprocate. anyway it's just an idea, thankssss :)

Hello! I'm doing well and I hope you are as well. Thank you for this request! I loved writing it and I hope I did it justice and that you enjoy it!

At first, he would get flustered when you openly showed how much you loved him. He knows you loved him, obviously you did or why else would you be with him? But he wasn't used to someone being so open with PDA.

The two of you had planned a night out with some friends. The plans were simple, a dinner and some light shopping. Logan wasn't expecting you to still stick to him closely as you do when the two of you are alone, but he wasn't upset about it either. The two of you sat on one side of the booth while your friends sat on the other. Light conversation was flowing with ease as you began to cuddle into his side. He just wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he continued talking to your friend about the latest hockey games score when he felt you twiddle with his fingers. He froze mid-sentence and looked down at you to see what you were doing, and his heart skipped a bit when he noticed you were talking to your friend, and you were completely playing with his finger absentmindedly. He never truly realized how easy it was for you to love on him openly until this moment.

He also wasn't used to someone putting their life on hold to do something for him.

He was having an awful day, and he just couldn't find it in himself to function properly anymore. He knew you had a busy day today so he was planning on going to bed to sulk until you got home and then he would make dinner for the two of you. As he got home, he was taken back by the sight of you already there. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't going to be home until eight?" He asked in a hoarse tone. Your heart ached for the man as you took in his beaten down form, "I took the rest of the day off, you sounded off earlier on the phone, thought you might need someone." You went to him and stood on your toes to kiss his cheek. "Want to help me make dinner?" He could feel his heart swell with the amount of love you give him. "I'd love to" He muttered with a soft smile. As the two of you danced between one another in the kitchen, he felt his body finally ease from carrying all the tension he collected throughout the day.

The longer Logan is with you the easier it is for him to open up, to love freely, and there isn't a day that goes by that he isn't completely and utterly in awe by you. You chose him, something he'll never be able to wrap his head around, but he never wants to witness you loving someone as easy as you love him.

Taglist:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

@sad0ni0n

@fries11

@slowlikehoneyyy

@brisinggamenwearer

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Self-Indulgent Matt Comfort

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Matt has a trick or two up his sleeve when you are exhausted in the workplace.

warnings: None, this is the fluffiest fluff

a/n: I was absolutely exhausted today but I still wanted to write, so... here!

w/c: 1.1k

You weren’t going to yawn again. You weren’t. 

After the second yawn in the last ten minutes, Karen was already eyeing you from her desk, her gaze raising the hair on the back of your neck as you clenched your jaw against the sensation. 

You didn’t need to yawn. You were fine, just a little tired. 

Maybe more than a little.

Weeks of strenuous, back-to-back cases and increasingly tumultuous periods of sleep had begun to weigh on you. Fatigue draped over your shoulders like ribbons of cement, urging you to slump forward until you were propped on one fist, practically faceplanted on your desk. The pile of paperwork you were slogging through wobbled in your line of sight, text sprawling off the page as your vision blurred. With a measured breath, you let your eyes flutter shut, your body rejoicing in the darkness for a moment before you forced them to open again. 

You were used to this. Exhaustion was an old friend of yours, a constant presence in the back of your mind. This wasn’t a new struggle. So why was staying awake so remarkably difficult today?

Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you shoved the thought aside. Given how much brain power you were using just staying conscious, you couldn’t exactly spare the time it would take to crack open that can of worms. A handful of hours and you’d be free to trudge home and collapse into bed. But first, paperwork.

Using two fingers to separate the top page from the remainder of the stack, you held it in front of your face, your lips moving mechanically as you read the bold letters. ‘MOTION FOR PARTIAL SUMMARY JUDGEMENT’ Motion for..what case was this? Oh right, Miss Owens. Her ex-boyfriend was claiming she misappropriated child support. Or was that the Howard case…

Completely lost in a jumble of names and case numbers, you didn’t hear Karen calling for you until it was accompanied by a tap on your back. The abrupt heat of physical contact made you flinch, a tiny shriek flying from your mouth before you could effectively silence it. Hands flying up to your rapidly heating face, you whirled around. 

“I thought you heard me, I’m sorry–” Karen rushed to apologize, drawing her hand away from you as you cut her off. 

“No, I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying attention. What did you say?” The words tumbled out of your mouth almost incoherently.

Before Karen could repeat herself, a door opened behind you, a head of dark hair popping around the frame. 

“What happened? Are you ok?” In his haste to respond to your embarrassing outburst, Matt’s crimson lenses had been forgotten, his vehement concern on full display. Blank eyes darting between you and Karen, he crossed the short distance to your desk, focusing solely on you. 

“I’m fine, I just..zoned out and got startled.” You explained feebly, reaching for one of Matt’s outstretched hands. The dip between his brows only grew in ferocity at your lame excuse. 

“Uh huh. Well, I had a question for you anyway so,” Nodding to you, Matt’s gaze flickered in Karen’s direction. “Mind if I steal her for a minute?”

“She’s all yours.” Karen smirked, holding her hands up and retreating to her own desk. 

Confusion bloomed in your stomach as Matt and Karen somehow exchanged a look. “What am I missing?”

“Nothing. Got a minute to talk about the Owens case?” Something about the pacing of Matt’s response seemed..off, but your sluggish thoughts weren’t quick enough to discern exactly what was afoot. 

“I, uh, haven’t finished prepping that motion for filing.” You admitted sheepishly, staggering to your feet with Matt’s help. 

“That’s alright, sweetheart. We have another two weeks to respond to their newest complaint. I actually wanted your opinion on his testimony from the last hearing.” Drawing you into his office with effortless strength, Matt’s hand dropped yours and coasted over the small of your back. He clutched your waist gently, shutting the door with a swift tap of his foot. 

“Oh.” A coil of anxiety you hadn’t noticed before began to unwind in your chest, your posture sagging until you were draped against Matt’s side. You’d expected him to scold you, to remind you how important it was to keep your full attention on the task at hand. “Yah, I can try to help.”

“Great, why don’t you sit, I’ll pull up the segment I’m thinking of.” Squeezing the flesh of your hip, Matt gracefully slipped from your partial embrace, rounding the large wooden desk in the center of the room. 

Nodding absently, your fingers grazed the top of the chair in front of his computer, tilting it back before Matt stopped you. “On the couch, love. Much more comfortable.” 

Something was definitely up. You crossed your arms, eyes narrowing at the smug lawyer. “And that matters because?” 

“Because you’re my girlfriend and I want you to be comfortable?” Matt laughed brightly, arms snaking over themselves in a haphazard imitation of your own stance. 

With a doubtful grumble, you settled onto the couch cushions behind you. The true reason for Matt’s actions was just beyond your grasp, one fired synapse away from clicking into place. Until you solved that mystery, you could handle a little forced comfort. 

Balancing his computer on one broad palm, Matt chuckled as you remained stiff, refusing to give in to the inviting squishiness of the worn fabric. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re up to something.” You mumbled, scowling at him as he slid onto the couch beside you, throwing a sculpted arm over your shoulders.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart. Here,” Passing you an earbud, Matt’s fingers flew over his keyboard, queueing up the testimony in question. “His phrasing is…interesting. And I think he might’ve contradicted his statement from the original custody battle, but you’re more familiar with that case than I am.” 

Placing the tiny speaker inside your ear, you tucked yourself into Matt’s side. As always, his heat encompassed you first, warmth radiating from him like rays of pure sun. Touch quickly followed, his left thigh sliding against yours, denim scratching over cotton. Positioning the laptop atop both of your legs, Matt’s thumb caressed your shoulder as he started the recording. 

A smatter of voices prickled through the static, lawyers, clerks, and–eventually–the adverse. The monotonous call and response crashed over you in waves, threatening to siphon your dwindling awareness and lead you straight into slumber. You nudged Matt’s upper arm with your forehead, eyes fluttering shut against your will. “You tricked me. Wanted me to sleep.”

“You caught me.” Matt murmured, shifting to pull something from the back of the couch and tuck it around you. “You’ve been running on fumes this week. Rest for a bit.”

“Hypocrite.” Your scathing comment was hindered by the slurred edge to your speech as you drifted off. 

A rumbling laugh shook Matt’s chest. “Sleep well, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @daisy-arien0 @yarrystyleeza @silas-aeiou @harleycao @for-hearthand-home @chwlogy @valhallavalkyrie9

[adoresia]

꣑ৎ contains ★ Fluff (?) ,, ft Nagi Seishiro :: ★ People usually buy you flowers when they love you. I dunno, that’s the only scenario I can imagine someone giving you flowers to be honest…

˙🧷 ̟ Sia here ! :: BEFORE READING!! I AM BEGGING YOU. WHILE READING LISTEN TO THIS. If you don’t I promise I’ll be under your bed every night. If the link doesn’t work the song is ‘I love you, I’m sorry by gracie abrams!!

˙🏷️ ̟ Nagi’s masterlist | BLLK masterlist | Main masterlist

Nagi never really understood why you cared about him so much.

He never asked you to wake him up early just so he wouldn’t be late for practice. He never asked you to leave neatly packed meals on his kitchen counter because he thought it was too much of a hassle to eat. He never asked you to lace your fingers with his when you walked together, even though he never pulled away.

“You don’t have to do all this.” he told you once, watching as you set a steaming plate of food in front of him. “It looks like too much work.” You only laughed and then settled on a smile. And then sat beside him resting your chin in your palm. “I like doing it. Even if you don’t let me.” Nagi didn’t get it. He didn’t get you.

Maybe that’s why he never bothered to stop you.

He remembers how you’d always wait for him after practice, met with a “You did great today, Sei.” As you stood by the entrance of the training facility while shifting on your feet as the cold air bit at your fingers. “Oh. You waited.” he’d reply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Why wouldn’t I?” He never understood that either, and honestly he didn’t know why he was trying to. It wasn’t like you got anything out of it. Walking home with him was just silence and dragging footsteps, but you never complained. You stayed beside him anyway.

One time he asked you outright. “Why do you bother doing all this for me?” You tilted your head at him as if the answer was obvious. “Because I care about you.” He frowned. “But why? There’s no point.” He didn’t know why he was asking, he could’ve just lift it at that. But something in him had him curious. Some sort of foreign feeling that for some reason couldn’t accept that as an answer. You smiled reaching out for his hand. Your fingers curled around his wrist. “Yes there is! I enjoy caring about you.”

He had no response to that.

The bell above the flower shop door jingles as he steps inside. The place has an aroma of earth, like petals just after it rains. His eyes scan over bouquets wrapped in delicate paper, and for the first time — he realizes how colorful flowers really are.

Just as colourful as you.

You always had this way of making things less dull. You always dragged him outside when all he wanted to do was lie around. You always tugged him towards places you found interesting. There was a new bakery in town? You’re going together. A festival popped up on campus? You would buy 2 tickets for the both of you. You made life seem less like of a hassle for him, even if he never actually realised it. As his thoughts wonder back to where he is, the shopkeeper asks him if he needs help. He shakes his head signaling a “no”, choosing a bouquet without really thinking.

As he exits the store, he remembers the first time you told him you loved him. One of the most significant memories he has of you. You were both lying on his couch, a comfortable silence settled between the both of you. The only sound being the faint hum of his phone as he scrolled through it lazily. You were staring at him, waiting.

“I love you, Seishiro.” He blinked, looking away from his screen. “Oh.” Your lips quirked up, but your eyes held something softer. “You don’t have to say it back,” you murmured; as if you already knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t. He just turned back to his phone, feeling a strange weight settle in his chest.

The walk is quiet and the wind is gentle, but Nagi shoves his free hand into his pocket with his shoulders tense, almost nervous. But regretful. Why?

Because he should’ve let you love him ages ago.

You had tried so hard, never wavering or asking for anything in return. He wonders why he never let himself love you back. He’s ready now, ready to reach for you instead of standing still. Ready to tell you how much you meant to him.

And as he finally arrives to his destination, standing nervously in front of you. The flowers feel heavy in his hands.

He stares down at the stone,

your name carved into it with care. He wonders how long it took for them to get it right. How many times they traced the letters, making sure it was perfect. The sky is a deep, hazy blue, the kind you always loved. He never cared much for the sky before. But now he stares at it for a long time, trying to see what you used to. He kneels down and places the bouquet in front of your gravestone. His fingers linger against the petals, hoping they’ll warm under his touch. He exhales softly, and his voice is quiet,

“I love you.” A pause. A breath. “I’m sorry.”

And now, since he never gave you the chance to love him, he had to suffer the consequences of loving you emptily, for the rest of eternity.

a/n : is emptily even a word idk, anyways! sorry..😞 you can cry on my shoulder.

[dollwhite]

Singing death

[not a chapter]

All writing made by me will be under the tag ‘dollings work’

Also I’m thinking about making a side account but I don’t really think I want to because i would like to focus more on this one.

Made by Dolling

“Tim.. this is the second time this month.” You said, you arms folded in front of your chest. Staring instantly at your now broken window. “You’ve got a key for a reason child” you added.

It’s not like you didn’t have the money to fix all of the broken windows,but having to pull excuses out of your ass when the workers ask what happened. Was getting exhausting, you bought an extra key for him and he has his own room in your condo. But he still brokes your windows??

Kids now days.

Ya didn’t mine back then, because it was always fun to get a surprise visit from Tim. But now it’s like he doesn’t know when to go home, don’t get confused you loved Tim like he was your own son. But sometimes he had to remember, you’re not his bio mother. And that you had your own needs, like dating!

Before meeting Tim, you love life was not… not the best. With you being a popular singer, trying to find someone to date. Who wasn’t with you because you were famous and rich was hard, even other rich people wanted to date you because you were the famous ‘s/n’

And when you took a break from singer, you thought.

“oh maybe I’ll have time to date now!”

oh boy how wrong you were, it’s like the first week you took a break Tim showed up. And with him being thrown in your life, you didn’t have time to date.

But today was your date night, it’s the first date you choose to go to in months. But now you have to cancel why? Because your ‘son’ decided instead of going back to the batcave or whatever it was that the farry bat had. He came to your condo, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know what today was, you had told him two weeks ahead.

Just so he know that you wouldn’t be home, so he wouldn’t come with one of his surprise visits. But he came anyway, and he broke your window!

It’s not like you didn’t get him a key to your place the thread week you guys met. Maybe he liked brokering windows? You hoped not…

“Maybe I miss you?” The why Tim said these words, they felt… calculated.like this encounter was all planned out?

“Don’t give me that bullshit, look at my window!” Maybe it was the fact that, you had known Tim for about five months now. That you felt so comfortable scolding him or the fact that you done it so often.

Or the fact that he got himself into trouble a lot.

“I’ll get Bruce to buy you a new one.” Tim murmured as he walked up to you, holding his arms out in expectations for a hug.

“Tim.” You muttered. “You are grounded.”

“Hm- thought you were going to [readers] house?” Jason said, staring at Tim. “She grounded me.”

“S-she [reader] grounded, I’m sorry you? Ain’t you her self proclaimed child?” Dick added. It was after petrol, that they all decided to have a game night hell even Jason was there.

Of course with the exception of Tim as he wanted to give reader a visits and maybe stay the night at their house. It’s like 85 percent of the Tim lived with reader, and that other 15 percent? Oh he spent that time at school.

“And what did you do for her to decide to ground you?” A malicious little voice rung out. It was Damian of course, no one else liked to torture Tim more than him.

Maybe Jason on a bad day but still, it’s like that little demon liked to see to suffer.

“How does she even ground you if you don’t live with her?” Duke asked.placing down a drew four on the coffee table, for Cass.

“Yeh, how does that even work?”

“I’m grounded from her house.” Tim answered, it was a pretty obvious answer to him but maybe some people just don’t get the contacts clues.

“That sucks little guy”

Can u guys tell their playing uno? Also SCHOOL IS CLOSED TOMORROW!! So I might add on to this<333

Anddd do u guys like the name Allure being readers singer name or should I change it?

Also the little special one short I was goin to do…. I don’t think it’s going to be done in time 😭🙏🏽 if y’all have any questions about siren reader don’t be shy ask meee!!

[vettelsvee]

TWO SHY IDIOTS IN LOVE | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Oscar, your classmate back when you were in high school, and two shy idiots that might have feelings for the other, go on a "date"

WORD COUNT: 1471

WARNINGS: Mentions of drowning on a pool. Apart from that, I don't think anything else

VEE'S NOTES: I had this on my drafts for a while (more than a year I'd say) and since I'm a bit sick today and can't really move from bed I had to take it out. Anyways, it's short and one of the first things I ever wrote for Oscar, so I hope you like it! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

You were excited, perhaps, for your first date with Oscar Piastri, the famous Formula 1 driver whom you had been following since his early days in the motorsport world simply because he hailed from your hometown and was also a former classmate.

You had spent days preparing for the big day when finally, the Aussie was going to take you on what you hoped would be the first of many dates. You had never lost contact with the other, although your didn't talk very often, so when Oscar surprised you by inviting you to Monza for the Italian Grand Prix, and despite having university exams, you didn't hesitate to accept the proposal.

It would be a bit hypocritical to say you hadn't prepared for the occasion. You had literally spent days choosing the perfect dress, along with the ideal hairstyle and makeup to look as best as possible just for him.

Finally, after patiently waiting for the blessed Friday to arrive, the time came to leave your hotel room and head to the circuit's paddock, where you had agreed to meet Oscar to watch the two Free Practice sessions and then go for lunch.

When you arrived at the agreed-upon location, your former classmate greeted you with a shy, but nice and comfortable, smile, then followed it with a warm hug that made you travel back to those school days when you used to spend most of your time with the guy in front of you.

"Y/N, you look stunning" exclaimed Oscar, a bit shyly and his cheeks turning instantly red. "I'll take you to McLaren’s garage and introduce you to my team quickly," he explained, almost without pausing. "They'll be taking great care of you while I'm driving, alright?"

As you walked towards the garage, after a brief stroll through the paddock due to the imminent start of the Free Practice sessions, you could feel the excitement in the air, the deafening noise of the engines and the adrenaline rush making you feel even more thrilled.

After introductions were made, and also hearing the scolding Lando started giving Oscar for being late, Piastri quickly showed you, while explaining it briefly, his race car, while getting into the gear to drive it.

"Don't you feel overwhelmed in there?" you asked with quite some curiosity.

"I've been doing this for most of my life, dear," replied Oscar. "Do you really think I get overwhelmed at this point?"

"Don't you?"

"Well, to be honest… yes," Oscar answered, "I get pretty overwhelmed, but it’s part of the job."

With that said, he turned on the engine and set out to achieve the best possible position for both himself and his team, mainly with the intention of surprising you, who ended up being more than impressed with his performance. Oscar didn’t only finish on the podium, but was also the faster driver of the day. 

Oscar parked the car, and a team of mechanics immediately appeared to start moving it into the garage. You barely had time to congratulate him because he seemed to disappear into some sort of private room and didn’t even bother to tell you something, and you also didn't want to disturb him. You felt somewhat relieved when about five minutes after that, a woman, in a very pleasant tone, mentioned that Oscar liked to take a shower as soon as he got out of his vehicle and also apologised for not having mentioned it earlier.

You thought that it made sense, and felt somewhat relieved. If you were going to eat at a restaurant, it wasn't the best idea to go all sweaty.

As soon as he finished, about just ten minutes later, he approached you and, after quickly apologizing and without saying anything else, simply took your hand. You knew Oscar was shy, and even you tried to keep as calm as possible to help him somehow, your anxiety increased more and more, but it dissipated when the brown-eyed man began to tell you anecdotes from your school days, causing more than one laugh, while also mixing in details about his career and his expectations for his future as a driver.

There was no doubt, you were fascinated by the passion with which your companion spoke about his work and, above all, by his great dedication to it.

When you arrived at the restaurant, Oscar took you once again by your hand and led you to the table, where a bouquet of roses rested next to a flickering candle.

"This is for you," he commented, handing the bouquet to you. "To be honest… I didn't know what to get you, and I didn’t know if you even liked flowers, so… I hope you like them and aren't allergic."

You didn't know what to say. Nervousness started going thought your body, and you could feel Oscar’s as well.

"It's amazing," you ended up replying. "Thank you… I've always loved flowers and no one has ever given me a bouquet before."

You smiled back at him shyly, lowering your head as you couldn’t stop thanking him while sitting in the seat Oscar had pulled out for you.

Throughout the lunch, the conversation flowed easily, with Oscar telling funny stories about incidents with other Formula 1 drivers, and you laughing back while listening actively. Also, you started sharing anecdotes from your university life because beyond that, there wasn't many exciting stories to tell him compared to the ones he was telling you.

After finishing the meal, Oscar paid even though you insisted multiple times to do it, and assured you that you’ll have another moment to pay something else for him. Then, he took your hand while stroking it softly and led you out of the restaurant, going back to the paddock for a walk through it.

"Do you remember when I almost drowned in the swimming pool during Physical Education class, and you jumped in to help me without even hesitating?" Oscar said as he laughed, trying to break the awkward silence. "From that moment on, you really became my hero. Also… my mum made me join swimming lessons.”

"It wasn’t that much, Oscar," you replied sarcastically due to your shyness, "but I really appreciate the compliment…."

"So…," the driver pointed out, changing the topic since he was quite ashamed of himself after revealing that, pointing towards the track. "Every time there's a Grand Prix, it's surreal to me that I have a car out there, ready for a race, and I get to drive it..."

Noah looked ahead, imagining Oscar’s car racing at high speed, exuding elegance, with him on it smiling behind the helmet while focusing.

"It's a dream come true, isn't it?" you said, turning your gaze back to your friend.

"Definitely," he replied. "It's what I've always wanted to do, and what I've sacrificed so much for, so it's amazing to be part of this sport not only competing with the best drivers in the world but also forming friendships with them."

You looked at Oscar and saw the passion with which he spoke of his life in his eyes.

"You're amazing," you said, smiling. "I'm so proud of you."

He approached you and took your hand for the umpteenth time that day. No matter how many times he did it, he came to the conclusion that it would never be enough for him. 

"Y/N, you've always been special to me," he said. "Although I've never told you, I've always admired your intelligence, your strength, and your beauty, and I've thought about you every day of my life, especially on race days. And now, here with you, I feel more in love than ever."

You felt your heart pounding.

"I feel something for you too, Oscar. Actually, most of your high school years…" you confessed, getting closer to him while trying not to die from embarrassment. "I never thought this could happen, but here we are…"

Oscar, trying to keep his cool, ended up leaning in carefully and kissing you gently. You felt everything around you stop. At that moment, you realized that you were a fool for not trying to do this earlier, for not confessing how you really feel about Oscar, convincing yourself he wouldn’t feel the same, but promised yourself to never deny your feelings anymore.

As you separated, still eyes locked on each other, Oscar put his arm around your waist and led you back to his car, ready to head to the hotel where you were both staying, with many thoughts in mind that included him cuddling with you for the rest of the night and, hopefully, for the very first time.

"Y/N… Do you think we could do this again… somehow?"

"I don’t think so, Oscar: I’m absolutely, completely sure, of that… Just if you want us to.”

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (14 - The Twins)

Chapter Summary: Stark's Annual Charity Ball pulls the invisible string that finally nudges you and Wanda in the right direction.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 6.2k+ | Chapter Tags: Age of Ultron!Wanda, Mild angst, comfort, fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything new in more than 2 weeks, but I'll just keep posting the chapters I've finished *cries* Anyway, this particular update is a milestone in R and Wanda's relationship, and it involves an auction. Kinda obvious where that will lead us to, yea? Enjoy! // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“I can't believe you're letting Tony pimp me out to some geriatric billionaire—” you stormed into Steve's office, tracking mud across the carpet.

It was pouring outside, and as soon as you arrived at the compound, Vision greeted you with a curious question. “What's a human auction? Is it like those slave sales back in the 1500s?” he had asked. You had brushed him off, heading straight for the one person you knew had to have given the final approval on this sort of thing.

“Whoa, hold on a second,” Steve cut in, his eyes going wide as he dropped his pen. He braced himself, clearly prepared for whatever wild accusation you were about to hurl his way. “No one is going to be ‘pimped out’ at Stark's Annual Charity Ball!”

Natasha, sprawled in a leather chair by the window, ankle cocked over knee, quirked an eyebrow at your entrance, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Someone’s fired up today,” she commented dryly.

You paced, the wooden floor creaking underfoot, fingers threading through your hair. “Then what do you call auctioning me off like some kind of prize to the highest bidder?” you demanded.

He leaned back, the chair groaning under his weight. “It’s not like that. You know it’s one of the biggest fundraising events of the year. We make an appearance every time to show our support.”

“Yes, make an appearance,” you jabbed the air with your finger. “Smile for the cameras, shake a few hands—that I can handle. But being part of an auction? That's crossing a line.”

Natasha shook her head, clearly amused by your distress. “You know, the bidders aren't all bad. Sure, some of them might be older, but age brings experience. You might end up meeting an attractive, mature woman. Isn't that your dream?”

You shot her a skeptical look. “Very funny, Nat.”

“Lighten up, darling.”

You squinted at her. “Are you one of the prizes to bid on?”

“Nope,” she replied without elaboration, her face giving away nothing.

Turning back to Steve, you threw your hands up in exasperation. “You said everybody was involved!”

He squirmed, eyes darting away. “Well, not everyone.”

“Great,” you muttered sarcastically. “So who’s actually on the block?”

Steve started counting off on his fingers. “There's me. Vision agreed to participate—some tech leaders are eager to meet him. Sam volunteered; he's offering a personalized flight experience. Bruce is giving a private lecture on gamma radiation. Even Don from accounting signed up.”

“Don from accounting?” you echoed incredulously. “The guy who brings tuna sandwiches for lunch every day?”

“He's offering financial planning sessions,” Natasha said. “Riveting stuff.”

It seemed everyone had a well-thought-out plan tailored to their expertise—everyone, that is, except you.

“So, what are you guys expecting me to offer?” you asked, already dreading the answer.

Steve swapped a look with Natasha, then cleared his throat. “Tony was thinking you could throw in something exclusive—like a dinner, maybe an entire evening out, for the highest bidder.”

“A date?” you scoffed.

“Think of it less as being ‘sold’ and more as donating your irresistible presence for a noble cause,” Natasha said.

“Me?” you said, pointing to yourself with a sardonic chuckle. “Irresistible?”

Natasha smirked. “Don't sell yourself short. Some people might find your brooding charm... appealing.”

“Careful, Romanoff,” you retorted, a sly grin on your face as you sauntered over with a mischievous sway in your step. “Keep talking like that, and I might think you're flirting with me.”

She barely spared you a glance. “Not in a million years.”

“So, there's a number?” you quipped, grinning wider.

“Alright, that's enough,” Steve barked, pushing himself off his chair, trying to look like the picture of authority. “The auction lineup is final; people have already shown interest. All I'm asking is for two hours of you on your best behavior. Can you do that?”

You shrugged, already backing toward the door. “No promises,” you muttered, turning to leave.

As you rushed out of Steve's office, you collided abruptly with what felt like a solid wall—only it turned out to be someone. 

More specifically, Wanda. You caught a wisp of her red before it vanished completely, suggesting she'd instinctively used her powers to cushion her own impact. Good for her. For you? Not so much.

“Sorry, didn't see you there,” you said, rubbing a tender spot on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Wanda's eyes widened when she saw you, like a deer caught in headlights. She nodded too eagerly before excusing herself as if she was in a hurry. You shrugged and turned back to the direction you were heading.

It had been over a week since you'd inadvertently caused a scene at a restaurant Wanda often visited, leading you to awkwardly apologize later with takeout. After Wanda stormed out that night, you lost interest in your date and ended up cutting the evening short just as Alex was suggesting drinks. Your relationship with Wanda hadn’t really improved or worsened since then, which was probably for the best, all things considered. You had noticed, however, that Vision seemed to stick by her side even more than before. You’re happy for them. Ever since he told you that Wanda was lonely, you thought she needed someone like him—a truly devoted friend or more.

“Two hours,” you muttered to yourself as you entered your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. “How hard can it be?”

—

It was a spectacle—exactly what you'd expect from a Stark event.

Hosted at New York's iconic Metropolitan Museum of Art, the fundraiser didn't just rival the Met Gala—it eclipsed it. The guest list was a who's who of the world's elite, pulling not only A-list celebrities from fashion and entertainment but also power brokers from technology, real estate, automotive, food, and pharmaceuticals. 

Your teammates were dispersed throughout the venue. Having arrived half an hour earlier, you hadn't spotted any of them yet, but you suspected they were probably doing the same thing you were—stalling, avoiding the spotlight until the last possible moment when they would have to step forward and be seen. You found yourself lingering near the entrance, fidgeting with the straps of your elegant black dress. It was a daring choice, selected by a fashion guru Tony had brought in specifically for this event. You had resisted this outfit until the final moment, relenting only when Tony threatened to schedule you for more public appearances—gigs he usually delegated to Rhodes or Sam on ordinary days.

“Looking sharp,” Clint remarked, coming up beside you. He was adjusting his bow tie, a slight grin on his face as he took in your outfit.

Finally—someone to stick with for the rest of the evening.

“Flattery won't get you out of babysitting duty tonight,” you teased, trying to ignore the anxious butterflies in your stomach.

He chuckled, his eyes scanning the patrons. “Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, scanning the room yourself. 

You tried to distract yourself by diving into shop talk with Clint, who indulged you but seemed more focused on his martini, sipping and nodding with the occasional terse response. It was fine by you; at least it was a way to pass the time until the event wrapped up. 

Soon, Natasha joined you, wearing a glittery gold dress that was both classy and seductive, covering most but highlighting just enough. You made an effort not to stare too much at your mentor. Back in your rookie year with the team, you'd harbored a bit of a crush on her, but that had faded as she took a more active role in your training. Over time, you came to see her as a sister, finding in her and Clint the semblance of the family you never had.

She complimented Clint on his suit before turning to you. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Trying to,” you replied truthfully.

“Here,” Natasha said, offering you her glass of champagne. “Two more of these and you’ll be fine.”

You accepted the glass, taking a tentative sip. It did little to settle your nerves, but you appreciated the gesture. “Thanks.”

“Look who decided to grace us with their presence,” Clint announced, nodding toward the entrance.

Vision had just arrived, dressed to impress. He resembled a polished gentleman, a look so fitting it was almost comical—like he belonged in a museum exhibit. You stifled a laugh at the thought, chiding yourself for even entertaining such a cheeky idea. Notably absent was Wanda, who you had expected to see at his side. 

“Vision actually looks... dapper,” you observed.

Behind Vision, Sam and Rhodey entered, each with a stunning woman on their arm. Sam's date wore a sleek silver gown that shimmered under the lights, while Rhodey's companion was radiant in royal blue. 

“Where's Bruce?” Natasha asked, glancing around the room. “He was supposed to be here by now.”

Clint emptied his glass of drink just in time for the waiter to arrive with a new one. “Haven't seen him. Steve's getting nervous he's a no-show.”

You frowned. “Wait, we can do that? Just... not show up?”

“If you're the Hulk, yeah, probably.”

“And Tony?” you asked.

“You know he doesn’t attend his own parties these days,” Clint said.

“Anyone seen Wanda?” Natasha asked suddenly.

For a moment, you'd forgotten about her. You hadn't heard anything about her participating in the auction, and you didn't want to ask why. She was still relatively new to the team, and the events of Sokovia were still fresh in everyone's minds. Maybe Tony didn’t want to stir the pot by introducing the newest member so soon.

“Haven’t seen her,” Clint replied. “Maybe she's skipping it.”

“Or maybe she's just running late,” Natasha suggested.

You shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. “Either way.”

Just then, the grand hall’s light dimmed, and the spotlight found its way to the center of the stage where Steve stood, clad in a classic tuxedo, his hair slicked back, the blue of his eyes catching the light and gleaming under the gaze of hundreds who adored him.

“Good evening, everyone,” he started, racking up cheers from the crowd, mostly from the women up front. “On behalf of the Avengers and Stark Industries, thank you for joining us tonight. Your generosity makes a profound difference.”

For a guy who was frozen for half a century, he sure had a knack for working a room and blending into this new era. You shifted your weight, trying to quell the restless energy inside you. Who would make a bid for you? Or worse, what if no one did? Each thought was as mortifying as the other. You reached for your third glass of champagne, trying to drown the embarrassment that had started with Natasha's first toast.

Steve went on, “We're starting tonight's auction with some exclusive items straight from Tony's personal garage—a collection of rare prototypes and unique gadgets.”

The first item was wheeled out—a sleek, custom-built motorcycle with cutting-edge tech enhancements. The crowd murmured appreciatively. Bidding was enthusiastic, and the motorcycle sold for an impressive sum. Next came a high-tech smartwatch with capabilities far beyond anything on the market, followed by a limited-edition arc reactor, encased in glass as a piece of art.

As the last of Tony's treasures was auctioned off, Steve returned to the microphone. “And now, we have something very special. For the first time tonight, we're offering you the opportunity to spend time with two of our own heroes.”

The cheer was resounding. You wanted to throw up at the sound of it.

“First up,” Steve announced, “we have Vision.”

A spotlight found Vision as he made his way to the stage. He nodded politely to the audience and they cheered even louder. 

“The winning bidder will enjoy a personalized afternoon with Vision,” Steve continued. “A chance to discuss philosophy, technology, or any subject of your choosing.”

The bidding began immediately.

“Fifty thousand,” someone called out.

“Seventy-five,” another voice said.

“One hundred thousand!” 

A collective gasp filled the ballroom. From there, the bids shot up even more quickly.

“One hundred fifty thousand!”

“Two hundred thousand!”

“Two hundred fifty thousand!” a woman declared from the back, her paddle held high.

It was the highest bid of the night so far.

“Going once, going twice... sold to bidder number 112 for two hundred fifty thousand dollars!” Steve announced, leading a round of applause.

Vision gave a gracious nod before exiting the stage.

You took a deep breath, realizing your turn was next. And there was no way you could go higher than Vision.

“And now,” Steve continued, “we have another incredible opportunity. An exclusive experience with one of our most skilled team members, Y/N.”

The spotlight swung in your direction. With a gentle nudge from Clint, you made your way to the stage, your heart pounding. Standing beside Steve, you tried to focus on the faces in the crowd, but the bright lights made it difficult.

You were expecting Steve to mention what you had to offer, but you were pleasantly surprised that he went right ahead to the bidding.

“Do I hear twenty thousand?” the auctioneer prompted.

An initial silence stretched on longer than you'd hoped.

“Twenty thousand,” a woman called out softly.

“Thirty thousand,” added a man seated toward the middle.

The bidding was slow compared to Vision's, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. You wanted to kill Steve and Tony after this. You swore to yourself you would.

“Forty thousand,” the woman countered.

“Forty-five,” came another bid.

Just as you began to resign yourself to a modest outcome, a new bidder declared his interest.

“Sixty thousand,” declared a man standing near the side of the room.

You squinted, trying to make out his features. He was well-dressed, with dark hair and a pleasant disposition. Something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn't quite place where you'd seen him before.

“Seventy thousand,” the previous bidder upped the ante.

“Eighty thousand,” the newcomer responded.

The crowd began to take more interest.

“Do I hear ninety?” the auctioneer asked. 

Your face was hurting from smiling the entire time, and you could feel sweat starting to roll down from the base of your exposed neck.

“Ninety thousand,” called out the woman from before.

The bids climbed steadily until the man finally offered a hundred-twenty.

Everybody held their breaths, waiting to see if this bid would top Vision’s, despite the auction's sluggish beginning.

“Going once, going twice... sold to bidder number 214 for one hundred twenty thousand dollars!” 

The applause swelled around you as you stood there. You weren't hung up on how well you performed; you were just relieved it was finally over.

“Congratulations,” Steve said, pulling you into a hug. You kept your smile in place, leaned in close, and whispered, “This isn't over.”

The man who had won the bid was being escorted by one of the event staff to meet you.

As you approached him, recognition clicked into place. His name was Daniel—a member of the support staff at the Avengers compound. You'd seen him around, handling logistics and occasionally assisting with training setups.

He had that much amount of money to spend on you? 

“Daniel?” you said, extending a hand. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

He shook your hand with a friendly smile. “Good to see you, Y/N. Actually, I'm here on behalf of someone else."

Before you could ask, he gestured toward a quiet hallway. “The person who actually bid on you and won is waiting for you down that hall.”

You entered a quaint gallery displaying an array of quirky artifacts that seemed centuries old—though your limited attention in history classes made it impossible to pinpoint their exact origins or era. What made you stop and stare was how it was peaceful and kind of personal, with no crowds to elbow through. You could see why some folks find it therapeutic to hang out in museums and galleries like this.

Standing near a large window was a figure. That unmistakable posture was all too familiar.

“Wanda?” you called out, startled.

She turned to face you, and her nervousness was impossible to miss. It clashed with how stunning she looked in her gown—a deep red that draped perfectly, with a daring neckline that plunged but somehow still looked elegant. The sleeves fluttered around her arms, and her brunette hair cascaded in wild waves, shortened by the curls to just past her shoulders. She was breathtaking.

Looking between Wanda and the closed door, you tried to piece it together. “So... you hired Daniel to bid for you?”

Wanda nodded. “I didn't want to draw attention by bidding myself. I hope that's okay.”

Warmth spread through you. Why would Wanda bid such a substantial amount of money for time with you, especially when you saw each other every day? It was odd, a little unsettling, but at least you weren’t paired with a complete stranger whose intentions might be unclear.  

Though… what were Wanda’s intentions?

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked softly, her eyes searching yours. It hit you then—you hadn’t said a word in a while.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, snapping out of your thoughts. “I’m just… surprised.”

Wanda took a few steps, not toward you, but toward the exit. “I didn't mean to—I just... If this makes you uncomfortable, we can just forget the whole thing.”

You could have simply taken her up on the offer, paid her back, and moved on. But instead, something compelled you to reach out and grasp her arm before she could leave. Wanda glanced over her shoulder, her expression a mix of wariness and curiosity.

You searched for the right words, your heart pounding. Then, a small smile formed on your lips as you shrugged lightly. “Do you want to get out of here?”

—

For a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, Wanda Maximoff didn’t just secure a free hotdog sandwich—she also claimed what might be the best view in the city. Better than the one from the Empire State Building, even—an exaggeration, perhaps, but isn’t any view more breathtaking when shared with the right person?

It was hardly the deal of a lifetime, but there you were, actually trying to make it worth her while.

Sitting together on a quiet rooftop terrace, the city's lights stretched out before you like a shimmering sea. You took a bite of your hotdog, moaning at the comfort of a simple snack.

Wanda glanced over at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. “This is nice,” she said.

You swallowed your bite and turned to face her. "Can I ask you something?"

“Of course.”

“Why did you bid on me?” you asked. “I mean, you could've bid on Vision.”

Wanda looked fairly confused. “Why would I bid on Vision?”

You shrugged, biting your tongue to keep yourself from insinuating to Wanda that he’s her boyfriend. Well, wasn’t he?

Wanda laughed softly, causing a smile to form on your own lips. 

“Vision is always there,” she began thoughtfully. “Even when I don't ask for him, he shows up. Some days, it felt like there was too much of him.”

That was… unexpected. “I thought you two were close,” you said.

“We are, in a sense,” she said. “He's got a good heart, smart, well-meaning. But there are times I just need to be left alone. With Vision, it's as if he's always trying to figure me out, not just exist alongside me.”

You took a slow bite, chewing over her words. “Well, Vision does seem like an honorable person. I think he really cares about you.”

She smiled faintly. “I know he does. And I care about him too. But it's complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Wanda sighed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. You gave her space, watching silently until she turned to face you. When she did, you were struck by her eyes—a vivid green that outshone the moon itself.

“He's still figuring out what it means to be... human,” she explained. “Emotions, relationships—they're concepts he's learning, and sometimes I feel like a subject in an experiment.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way,” you whispered. Believing Vision would simply cure Wanda's loneliness was naive. You regretted the times you thought it was so simple, pushing her towards someone else just to keep her at arm's length. Now, sitting side by side on the terrace of your apartment—a detail you hadn't mentioned to Wanda—you realized her company wasn't so bad. Removed from the context of her powers and past faults, she seemed almost ordinary. And it didn't hurt that she was undeniably beautiful—a fact that admittedly played a part in why you had kept your distance. Her appearance made it too easy to become distracted.

“I could do a lot worse,” Wanda said lightly.

“Yeah,” you replied, before pointing to yourself. “You’re looking at her.”

Her laughter erupted, full and unrestrained. You realized you enjoyed hearing it—and even more, being the reason for it.

After a moment, you took a deep breath. “You know, you didn’t have to bid on me just to hang out. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was cold to you. It's just, initially, we were on opposite sides, and I'm kind of a loner by nature.”

“I didn’t bid on you for the company,” she said. “I heard you were upset about being auctioned off. I thought I’d help out.”

“Oh,” you managed, heat creeping into your cheeks in surprise and a bit of shame. “You really didn’t have to do that. Honestly, you could be anywhere else, doing something better with your time.”

She gave a light shrug, dismissing the thought. “I wanted to be here. And you're under no obligation—it’s your time.”

“That was a lot of money, Wanda.”

She flashed a small, knowing smile. “We get paid pretty well, and we live rent-free in a state-of-the-art facility with more food than we know what to do with. Honestly, I don’t know where to put all that money.”

You couldn't help but whistle at her extravagant dilemma about where to spend her money.

“Some of mine went here,” you mentioned, beginning to tidy up. You picked up Wanda’s hotdog box, then yours, and slipped them back into the paper bag they came in.

“Here?”

“This is, uh, my apartment in the city,” you admitted, feeling a bit sheepish about the modest surroundings. It wasn't much to look at—barely furnished since you hardly spent a night here. But it was nice to have a fallback, a place where you could imagine being just another average citizen, cooking dinner and passing out on the sofa to late-night TV. Not that you've actually done that here, but, you know, the possibility's always there.

“Oh,” Wanda breathed, her eyes going wide—and you hadn’t thought it was possible for them to be more disarming than they already were. “I—I didn’t realize. Sorry for intruding—”

“I invited you,” you pointed out, your grin turning amused at her reaction. It was nice to see her a little off-balance. Her gaze met yours, and there was something in her eyes that made you a bit nervous. Usually, you weren't easily thrown off by pretty women, but Wanda was different. She wasn't like anyone you'd ever met.

“It's getting a bit chilly,” she noted after a while, rubbing her arms lightly.

“Would you like to come inside?” you offered. “I can lend you something warmer.”

It didn’t take Wanda another second to accept. “Yes, please.”

“Come on,” you said, leading her to your bedroom. Opening a drawer, you pulled out a pair of soft pajama pants and a cozy sweater. “These should fit well enough. The bathroom is just through that door.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the clothes. She headed into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

You grabbed a t-shirt and some comfortable boxers for yourself, beginning to change in your bedroom. As you pulled your shirt over your head, your eyes accidentally darted towards the bathroom. Through the partially open door, you inadvertently glimpsed Wanda from behind as she changed. Her back was turned, revealing a black lace bra as she slipped out of her dress.

You swallowed hard and quickly turned your eyes away, focusing on getting dressed as quickly as you could. You yanked your shirt down and shimmied into your shorts, trying to shake the image from your mind.

Moments later, Wanda stepped out dressed in your clothes, the sleeves of the sweater hanging slightly past her wrists. The outfit was a bit oversized but looked comfortable on her.

“These are perfect,” she said with a grateful smile. Noticing your flustered expression, she tilted her head. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you stammered.

She gave you a curious look but didn't press the matter. Glancing at your attire, she commented, “Won't you be cold dressed like that?”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh, I'll be fine. I tend to get hot,” you replied, then realized the double meaning of your words. Your face grew warmer. “I mean, I warm up easily.”

Wanda smirked and didn’t bother to be subtle about it. “Good to know.”

You grabbed a pillow from your bed and tucked it under your arm. “Well, I guess I'll let you get some rest,” you said, heading toward the door.

“Wait,” Wanda called after you. “You're not sleeping on the sofa, are you?”

You looked up, surprised. “I was actually planning to catch up on some reading.”

She sighed, giving in. “Fine, if you're sure.”

“I'm sure,” you said, fluffing the pillow.

She smiled softly. “Goodnight, then.”

“Night, Wanda,” you replied. After a moment's pause, you added, “And... thanks again for tonight.”

She lingered in the doorway of the bedroom and nodded at you with a smile.

Before she could slip away, you called out, “Hey, wanna train together tomorrow?”

Her face lit up. “Looking forward to it.”

—

It wasn’t that your bed was uncomfortable. Far from it, actually. The mattress was firm but not too firm, the pillows soft enough to cradle her head. By all accounts, Wanda should’ve been fast asleep. But she wasn’t. Everything about the bed—about the room—was a distraction.

She couldn’t stop thinking about how the sheets had probably wrapped around your skin countless times, how your scent lingered faintly in the fabric no matter how often they’d been washed. She wondered what position you usually slept in. Did you curl up on your side, clutching a pillow? Did you sprawl across the bed, limbs outstretched in different directions? The thoughts were small, trivial, and maddeningly persistent.

No matter how many times she turned over, pulled the blanket tighter, or closed her eyes, her mind wouldn’t shut off. So, when she tossed and turned for what felt like the hundredth time, Wanda decided she wasn’t going to just lie there, restless and alone, while you were only a few feet away.

Wanda eased the door open, careful to make as little noise as possible, though the faint creak still gave her away. You were there, of course, exactly where she thought you’d be, sitting on the sofa with a book in your lap. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated your face, and Wanda’s breath hitched when she noticed the glasses perched on your nose.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, glancing up from the page but keeping your finger tucked between the chapters as a placeholder.

There was something about you at this hour, something Wanda couldn’t quite put her finger on. It wasn’t just the glasses or the book or the way the light softened the sharp lines of your face. You seemed different. More laid-back. Almost mellow. Wanda decided this was one of her favorite versions of you.

“Can’t sleep,” she murmured, fiddling with the rings on her fingers—a nervous habit she couldn’t quite kick. 

Wanda bit her lip as you slid your glasses off and set them on the side table. It was endearing to think it was because you were giving her your full attention. You tapped the cushion next to you.

She obliged. The sofa dipped slightly under her weight, and she sat close enough for your shoulders to almost touch but left just enough distance to not assume too much. Wanda’s fingers stopped fidgeting, her hands resting in her lap as she glanced at the book you’d set aside.

“What were you reading?” she asked.

You smiled slightly, reaching for the book and turning it so she could see the cover. It wasn’t anything grand—just a worn paperback with creased pages and a faded title. That’s when Wanda’s gaze wandered to the shelves behind you, packed tight with books, some even spilling over into piles on the floor. Hardcovers, paperbacks, thick, ancient volumes that looked like they belonged in a library—

You weren’t just an ordinary reader.

“Didn’t take you for a… what’s that phrase you Americans use for someone who’s obsessed with reading?” Wanda asked, a light laugh escaping her lips.

“Bookworm,” you replied, grinning.

“Yeah—that.”

You chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Maximoff.”

The way you said her name sent a small shiver down her spine, but she hid it well, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked away for a moment. You weren’t sure if it was because it was late and your defenses were worn thin, or because the edges of exhaustion blurred your better judgment after spending the entire night nose-deep in your book. But something compelled you to speak to her.

Not small talk. Not another shallow exchange to fill the silence. No, you wanted to talk to her, really talk to her. About things that mattered, like how she was actually doing—not just the perfunctory “I’m fine” you’d heard her mutter too many times before. About how she was settling in at the compound, surrounded by strangers who were supposed to be her teammates but often felt like little more than colleagues. About what it felt like to start over in a new country, surrounded by a language and culture that weren’t hers. 

About how she was coping without Pietro.

You wondered if anyone had asked her these things before—apart from Vision, maybe. And even then, you could imagine what those conversations might have been like. Vision was earnest, but earnestness only went so far. He probably asked like a child would, curious but detached.

“So, uhm,” you cleared your throat, pulling up your knees to hug them in front of your chest. “How—How have you been holding up?”

It took her a moment to respond, and for a second, you wondered if you’d overstepped, if she didn’t like being asked in the first place. But instead, she tilted her head slightly, studying you like she wasn’t sure if you were serious.

“Why do you ask?” she said finally, her accent curling softly around the words.

You hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of how vulnerable the question made you feel. You weren’t used to this—to reaching out, to asking someone else to open up. But it was too late to backtrack now, so you shrugged, feigning casualness you didn’t feel. “Just thought… it’s been a lot. For you, I mean. New country, new team, new life.” You paused, glancing away. “It can’t be easy.”

Wanda let out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s putting it lightly.”

You didn’t reply immediately, giving her the opportunity to say more if she wanted to. When the silence stretched on, you pressed gently. “So? How are you holding up?”

She exhaled, a long, tired sound. “I’m... fine,” she said.

“That’s not an answer,” you said. “And you don’t have to give me one if you don’t want to. I just thought... maybe you’d want to talk.”

Wanda looked at you again as if trying to gauge whether you meant it. Whether you really meant that you cared. 

“You’re asking me this now?” she said.

“Seemed like as good a time as any.”

Her lips twitched—almost a smile, but not quite—and she looked away again. “I don’t think anyone’s really asked me that,” she whispered after a moment. “Not like you just did.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“It’s... hard,” she said, slow and careful. “Being here. With all of you. Everyone’s been... kind. But I can tell most of them don’t trust me.”

“They’ll come around,” you said, though you knew it wasn’t a guarantee. You knew better than anyone how slow trust could be, how much it took to earn it in a place like this. After all, it had taken you ages to come around yourself—ages of Wanda wearing you down in ways you hadn’t even noticed at first, of her saving your life and an embarrassing predicament.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice distant. She twisted the hem of her sweater between her fingers, her eyes focused on the floor.

“And Pietro?” you asked softly, almost afraid of the question.

“I think about him every day,” she said quietly. “About what he’d say if he were here. What he’d do. Sometimes, I swear I can still hear him in my head—his voice, the things he used to tell me. But then I catch myself trying to shush it, like I’m afraid I’ll get stuck there. In that space. I know it sounds crazy—”

“It’s not,” you cut in too quickly, but you meant them. Whatever grief looked like for her, it wasn’t something you had the right to call crazy.

She turned to you then, a small, rueful smile that felt like hope when her eyes couldn’t pretend she was grieving hard. It was the kind of smile that said she appreciated your words, even though you both knew they weren’t entirely true. You weren’t sure if she believed you or if she just wanted to believe you, but either way, she nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Sometimes,” she continued after a long pause, “I wonder if it would’ve been easier to go with him.”

You swallowed, the ache in her voice pulling something loose in you. You didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to make it about you—but that feeling hit too close to home.

“I used to think that way, too,” you said quietly.

Wanda turned to look at you, surprised. She didn’t interrupt, though. She waited.

You rubbed a hand over your face, buying yourself a second to organize the thoughts you’d buried for so long. “I’m not saying it to compare,” you added, voice tight. “I just... I know what it’s like.”

“My dad died when I was a kid,” you said, keeping your voice light, like saying it matter-of-factly would dull the edges of it. “I barely remember him. Just flashes—his laugh, his cologne, stuff like that. But my mom... she hated me long before he was gone. She blamed me for everything. Especially for my twin not making it.”

Wanda stiffened beside you, but still, she said nothing.

“She blamed me,” you continued, the memories clawing their way back to the surface. “Said I killed him before he ever had a chance. And she never let me forget it. Never let me forget that it should’ve been me who didn’t make it.”

Wanda finally looked up, her eyes glistening, red-rimmed with tears she refused to let fall. You didn’t have the same strength. A single tear slipped down your cheek, hot and heavy.

“And for the longest time, I believed her. I thought she was right. I thought it would’ve been better if I hadn’t made it,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

You shook your head. “Don’t be. And it’s not like… it’s not like I think that way all the time anymore. But I get it. That feeling like maybe you weren’t supposed to be here, like someone else deserved it more. I know what it feels like.”

Wanda's gaze dropped to your hands that were still gripping your knee like a lifeline. She looked like she wanted to reach out and grasp them, but you weren’t ready for that kind of intimacy. You were barely keeping yourself together, and the thought of her touch, however comforting, might be the thing to break you.

“I didn’t know,” she said softly. “About your twin. About your mom. If this... if this was the nightmare I gave you in—”

“No reason you would,” you interrupted, cutting her off before she could finish, before she could drag Johannesburg, and the bitter, consuming hatred you’d felt for her then, into the room. You’ve forgiven her for that, and it was best that it stayed forgotten too. “It’s not exactly a conversation starter.”

She huffed a quiet, almost bitter laugh, but it faded quickly. “Still,” she said, hesitating, “I think… I think you were meant to be here. I don’t know why, but I do. I think there’s a reason.”

You swallowed dryly. “Maybe there’s a reason for you, too.”

Wanda looked hopeful. “Maybe,” she echoed.

Wanda’s shoulder pressed into yours, solid and warm, like she was holding you in place without even realizing it. Neither of you spoke, the silence stretching out just long enough for it to feel safe. Safe to sit here with the mess between you, around you, part of you.

The words she’d said—I think you were meant to be here—kept looping in your head, circling around all the things you’d told yourself for years. All the things you still believed. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be here, but in that moment, you weren’t sure it mattered.

Because she was here. And maybe that was enough.

[poemgyu]

ㅡ stumbling back to you ( 한동민 )

ㅡ PAIRING: ex!taesan x fem!reader

ㅡ SYNOPSIS: ୨ৎ in which you show up at your ex's doorstep drunk

ㅡ GENRE: fluff, college au, getting you back trope

ㅡ WARNINGS: none??? mentions of drinking and alcohol, kisses and cuddling but nothing more than that

ㅡ A/N: this ended up being longer than i expected oopsies!!! anyways hope u guys enjoy this ᡣ𐭩

taesan has just gotten out of the shower, his previously wet hair now dry as he sets the towel down on the bathroom counter. he’s about to go lay in bed when he hears the doorbell ring. and another. and once more.

taesan looks at the digital clock on his nightstand and frowns. 12:30 AM. why would anyone show up here this late? he’s deep in thought when he hears a loud knock, and someone’s voice. a voice he recognizes particularly well. his eyes widen a bit, but then go back to normal. no it couldn’t be. 

he shakes down his suspicions and calmly walks to the door. the person on the other side is still knocking. he sighs before opening the door and the surprise on his face is evident. “y/n?” 

“taesannnnn!!!!” you say, stretching out the end of his name. taesan stares at your face. the face of his ex that he knows all too well, the face of the girl he’d broken up with just three months ago.

it’s obvious to him that you’re drunk. your pink cheeks, the way you just hiccuped, how you keep closing your eyes because you can’t keep them open, and the fact that you’re leaning on the person beside you for support—wait who’s the guy beside you? 

the guy taesan had been eyeing with nothing but sheer hatred finally gets the hint and speaks up, “hey man, y/n wouldn’t tell me where she lives and this is where she told me to take her… sorry about this haha…” taesan looks at him with an unexplainable emotion in his dark eyes. 

“who are you?” he asks although it sounds more like a demand.

“i’m eunseok! we’re in the same club and we had a welcome party today! y/n got a little drunk and i was trying to drop her home but we ended up here…” eunseok says, a bit taken aback by taesan. 

without saying anything, taesan grabs your arm and pulls you towards him, forcing eunseok’s hand to fall back next to his side. “hm?” you look up at him with squinted eyes. 

“thanks for taking care of her, i’ll take it from here,” taesan gives him a stiff smile that eunseok reciprocates, trying not to make the moment even more awkward for himself. taesan pulls you inside his apartment and closes the door behind you. 

once the door shuts you can immediately feel the warmth of his hands on your back, it engulfs your whole body. you smell the familiar scents of his body wash and shampoo and you take in a deep breath. taesan pulls you out of thought as he moves back to look at your face. he’s frowning. 

“what were you thinking?” taesan sighs as he gets a look at what you’re wearing. a black dress that leaves most of your legs bare and a thin leather jacket, which is mainly just for style and does nothing to keep you warm. 

“it’s so late and you’re dressed so lightly, and you let a random guy who sounds like he barely knows you walk you home while you’re drunk! do you realize how dangerous that is? what if something had happened, what if some weirdo did something to you—” he’s cut off by a giggle from you and the expression on his face changes when he sees your face. 

“are you worried dongminie?” you look up at him and his heart softens at the name you call him. you are the only person, aside from his very close friends and family who calls him by his real name. 

he ignores your question and looks away. you slightly stumble without taesan’s grip around your body and his gaze comes back on you as quickly as it left. his hands come around your shoulders and back to support you as he walks you over to the couch. he steps into the kitchen and comes back to hand you a glass of warm water. 

“you usually get sick during this time of year, you shouldn’t be drinking cold water. and especially with that outfit you’ve been in all night.” he says the last sentence while glaring at you. you pout while drinking the water. 

“mean dongminie,” you mumble and you swear you heard taesan let out a quiet laugh. 

“dongminieeee!!!” you whine. taesan looks down at you, “what is it?” he says while moving a strand of hair away from your face. “y/n is tired.” you pout. taesan chuckles at how you can barely keep your eyes open as you talk to him. “alright. i’ll give you some clothes to wear and then you can go to sleep, okay?” his tone is so soft that it’s lulling you to sleep right then and there. 

“don’t wanna. alwready coezy” you say, slurring your words as taesan bites a smile back. “come on, if you sleep in uncomfy clothes you’ll wake up really sore tomorrow.” you’re too tired to fight with him so you just give in, “carry me.” taesan sighs as his hand secure themselves under your thighs and back. he carries you to his bedroom and gently places you down. 

taesan rummages through his closet to find clothes that’ll keep you warm while your arms are wrapped around his waist as you lean all of your body weight on him. once taesan finds something, he turns around to gently pat your back making you look up at him. “go on and change,” he hands you his clothes and walks your wobbly figure to the bathroom. 

as he closes the door he shouts, “don’t fall, alright!” he’s worried because he’s seen you stumble over yourself way too many times tonight. “you’ve always been clumsy while drunk,” he says to himself before he hears you shout, “okie dokie!” 

you step out of the bathroom and are about to trip once more over the fabric of the sweatpants taesan gave you. “dongminie too big,” you put your arms up to show him how the hoodie arm exceeds at least 5 inches over your hands.

taesan can’t help the smile from creeping up his face as he takes your appearance in. you’re wearing a matching grey sweatpant and hoodie set that got too small on taesan since he’d grown out of it. he laughed to himself at how even his smallest clothing looked humongous on you. 

“i’ve missed seeing you in my clothes” he mumbles to himself. “huuuuuh?” you look at him, blinking your eyes with flushed cheeks, due to your intoxicated state and taesan just thinks you looked so cute that he could—he clears his throat. 

“your ears are rwed dongminie” you point out, pointing to his red ears. taesan’s eyes widen as he quickly covers his ears. “y-you should go to sleep, you must be tired,” he point to his nicely made bed. 

you nod and hold your arms up, waiting to be carried like a baby. taesan throws his head back and closes his eyes as he lets out a soft laugh, amused by your antics. 

in a swift motion he pulls you up to wrap your legs around his waist and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. your face is buried into his neck and taesan can feel your breath on him. his grip on you is firm as he walks you over to his bed and gently lays you down.

he makes sure to pull the blanket all the way up until it reaches your chin and once again moves your hair away from your face. he looks at you with so much tenderness as his gaze lingers for a couple more moments, as if he’s trying to memorize your face like he’s never going to see you again.

“goodnight,” he finally says as he turns off the lamp on his nightstand and stands up to walk away when he feels a tug on his sleeve. he turns around to be met by your eyes which he can’t refuse, “stay please,” you mumble and taesan can’t say no to you. how could he when you look so precious. 

he slowly nods as he crawls into the other side of the bed, pulling the blanket on him as he lays there stiffly. you turn to face him and he feels obliged to do the same. he looks so pretty that your drunken self can’t help but blurt out, “why’d you leave me dongminie. you’re a bad dongminie.” taesan’s eyes soften at your small voice and the hurt look on your face.  

“i’m sorry,” he lets out a soft sigh, “it’s my fault.” “what do you mean? tell me,” you ask taesan, wondering what he means. the way taesan broke up with you was so abrupt. there had been no fights, no arguing, no nothing prior to the breakup. he had met up with you at the park and told you that you guys couldn’t be together anymore. you were so shocked because you guys were so happy. he was your most favorite person and without him nothing was the same. 

you look back at taesan, it’s like he’s thinking carefully on if it’s okay for him to tell you. “it’s just that saemi, she—she was planning on framing you for plagiarism that she did. it would expel you out of university and she even had all the evidence and everything and wanted to ruin your whole life if I didn’t break up with you and i—i was just so scared. i didn’t want you to be ruined because of me so i—i had to,” he raked a hand through his raven hair and you could hear his voice shaking. 

you remember saemi. back in highschool she had the biggest crush on taesan and everyone knew. so when you and taesan started dating you’d became her biggest enemy. she would play childish pranks on you like tripping you and slowly it got worse. she once locked you inside the janior’s closet for 3 hours and when taesan found you he was so furious that he got saemi suspended from school. you thought you’d never see her again after highschool but you never expected her to come back into your life and threaten your boyfriend.

“i’ve missed you like crazy. it was so hard for me to try to erase you from my life and i still can’t do it. every time i saw you walking with a guy my stomach would feel like it’s being ripped out but i couldn’t do anything about it.” there had been so many nights that kept taesan awake. he’d worry about if you were doing okay, if you were safe, if you had moved on and he would feel so empty. as you watched taesan you could tell how hard it’s been for him. 

“you probably won’t remember this but i love you and i always will love you, even though i can’t be with you," he looked into your eyes with nothing but sincerity. you suddenly shifted your body close to him and the alcohol in your system made you spontaneously bold. you leaned even closer and caught his soft lips in yours. it was only for a moment but as you pulled away you could see the shock on taesan’s face even through the darkness of the room. 

you sleepily giggle as you hold his hand underneath the blanket, “i’ll make sure i remember this at least,” you say, the last part becoming almost incoherent as you’re on the brink of falling asleep. taesan has always had this effect on you which instantly relaxes you.

your eyes are closed as you feel taesan bring you impossibly closer to him, as if you’ll disappear in an instant. your face is buried in his chest and the soft scent of his shampoo is intoxicating the air around you, even more than the soju you drank earlier. the last thing you feel before going off into dreamland is the softness of taesan’s lips on your head, pressing a kiss and mumbling a small “sleep well y/n.”

ㅡ ౨ৎ ㅡ

as soon as you open your eyes, you’re met with the view of a white t-shirt, likely someone’s chest as you’re snuggled in it. you look up to see who the owner is and your eyes land on taesan’s peaceful sleeping face. your heart softens and the memories of last night come flooding back. you smile to yourself before taking in taesan’s face. you haven’t had a good look of it in what feels like forever. 

his lashes are long, you notice, not one sign of discomfort on his face as he sleeps soundly. his lips are slightly parted and the sound of his breathing fills the room. your gaze drops to his lips once again and you remember how you briefly kissed him last night. you gasp at your boldness, maybe a little too loud because taesan’s eyebrows furrow and he begins to shuffle. he softly groans before his eyes sleepily, open and they meet yours instantly. 

“morning, baby,” he says lazily as his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer and his head buries in your neck. he did it so naturally that even he realizes and suddenly moves away and sits up. he looks a bit surprised but his expression changes and he looks shy. 

“i swear i didn’t kidnap you!” he abruptly says and you have to force a giggle back as you sit up as well. “you probably don’t remember but you came here last night and you were drunk and—” “i remember,” you cut him off and his expression goes back to being surprised. 

“you—you remember? everything?” “everything.” you assure him. he looks taken aback like he doesn’t know what to say. he shyly looks around the room figuring out his words, “so will you… take me back?”  

taesan is scared of what you’ll say and it’s visible on his face. you both are looking into each other’s eyes and he looks so pretty right now that you could cry. you’ve so badly missed the morning face of his that you're looking at, his nagging habits, his smile, everything about him. 

“of course i will, i’ve missed you so much dongminie,” you giggle sheepishly and taesan’s expression finally calms. “thank—thank god, i was scared you wouldn’t want me,” taesan finally exhales out the breath he’s been holding in. 

“but you’ll have to promise me something,” taesan looks at you expectantly. “if there’s ever a problem we’ll tell each other and work through it together.” taesan aggressively nods at your words, “i’ve learnt my lesson.” 

you laugh, “okay!” taesan once again looks at you expectantly while fiddling with his fingers. “so… does that mean i’m your boyfriend now?” you let out a hearty laugh again and taesan swears his heart does backflips.

 “yes taesan you’re my boyfriend and i’m your girlfriend,” you say smiling and taesan can’t control himself as his hands reach out to cup your face and his lips meet yours. 

he kisses you with so much softness and love that you can feel it emitting out of him. he savors you like it’s the first time he’s kissing you, his lips moving tenderly against yours. you feel him smile against your lips and that’s when you realize that he’d been longing for you as much as you had been longing for him.

a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog ! thanks so much ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 2

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she’s pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

2 weeks had passed but time dragged on slow for you.

You were back at your place and back to work. Being in Caleb’s home without him there was both comforting but so very lonely.

You didn’t know if it was the depression, the loneliness, or the memory of Caleb’s small sob that you had caught that last day you were together.

But you weren’t eating, your clothes felt a little looser but you felt a little bloated in your lower stomach.

Maybe it was your period coming…

This thought stuck with you as you filled out your report. Tara stopped by your desk, eyes glittering with worry.

“Are you doing ok?”

You muster up a smile and laugh

“Yeah I’m fine, why?”

“Your face looks worn and skinny. Are you eating ok?”

“Just had a bit of a stomach bug.”

The captain was walking nearby, she stopped hearing your words and turned to look at you with narrowed eyes.

“You’re sick?”

“Uh, I think so, maybe? I’ve felt like I have been anyways.”

“Go home early today and go see your doctor. We don’t need a virus sweeping through the association and leaving us with minimal staff.”

You sighed, you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

Typing up the last words on your most recent take down of a rogue wanderer. You catch a rare glimpse of your partner Xavier.

His eyes seemed to scan you as he asked

“Are you okay?”

You throw your hands up in exasperation and stand up to leave for the day.

“Not you too! I’m fine, don’t worry.”

He kept his eyes on you as you gathered your coat and bag.

“If you’re sure…”

“Yes I’m sure Xavier, good night.”

You didn’t bother putting on your coat as you left the building. You grabbed your phone and dialed the doctor's office.

“Akso Hospital, how can I help you?”

“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment to see Doctor Zayne as soon as possible.”

“Can I have your patient number?”

As you boarded the subway to head home, you read off your number. The city started to pass you by as you waited in silence.

“Actually he has an opening tonight at 6 PM, can you make it?”

You check the time, it’s 5:15 PM. Just enough time to stop somewhere and grab a protein drink since that’s all you can stomach.

“Yes I can make it, thank you.”

“We will see you at 6 then. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

You slip your phone into your pocket and lay your head on the window. Your stomach churns, but you haven’t felt hunger since Caleb left.

All that food he had made, it was all wasted.

He had packed it up all neatly in the fridge for you but you had spent the few days left at his house over the toilet.

So it had gone into the trash, making you feel horrible. Who knows when you’d get to taste his cooking again?

Who knows what your relationship would be like when he got home?

Caleb had left you that little note saying he was sorry, it was tucked into the case of your phone.

A physical reminder for you that he had really been here.

He wouldn’t be back for 4 months though. Keeping yourself busy was the only way to avoid sinking into the deep rut you could feel coming on.

Your long sigh fogged up the glass, winter was coming.

Getting off the subway, you headed to a nearby cafe. Inside the atmosphere was warm but all your focus was on that sad beige drink in a carton inside the fridge rack.

You grabbed it and waited in line.

Spacing out at first but a familiar voice caught your attention.

“I’ll pay for her drink too.”

“Zayne?”

“Going to workout?” You glanced down at your protein drink and laughed a bit.

“No, just about all I can stomach these days.”

You followed him to the side of the counter where he grabbed his presumably sickeningly sweet treat in a box.

Zayne frowned a bit before asking

“Are you sick?”

“I think so. I actually have an appointment here with you soon at 6. My boss insisted I go check before I go back to work.”

He nodded a bit before holding the door open for you.

“I’ll walk you there then.”

Companionable silence follows you down the streets. As do all you thoughts of Caleb.

You can’t help but feel that the reason he was so scared to define your relationship is because of what the Fleet higher ups might do.

All the secrets and what they were up to. Caleb wanted to keep you out of it but he also wanted you next to him.

It was quite the conundrum, you got it.

But it wasn’t fair to either of you.

Sighing deeply, letting out a waft of visible breath in front of you.

Oh well, you’d have to wait for him to come home to even fix things.

No communication was possible between ground and deepspace.

You followed Zayne in silence up to his office. He motioned the receptionist to check you in as he watched you with worried eyes.

You were uncharacteristically quiet.

Zayne set his box down at his desk and took a seat, he motioned at the seat in front of him for you to sit.

Sitting without a word, you could tell your silence unnerved him.

But you didn’t have the energy to play polite right now.

“What are your symptoms?” He brought up your vitals while asking you specifics.

“I’ve been feeling nauseous all through the day, been a bit a dizzy but that’s probably because I haven’t been eating much. I don’t have much of an appetite and I think I’ve lost a little weight.”

“You look like you haven’t been sleeping well either.”

Averting your eyes, you deflect

“That doesn’t have to do with this.”

“Mmmm, if you insist.”

He flicks through your vitals before something catches his attention.

“Are you sexually active?”

This question startles you a bit but you answer hesitantly

“Yes… what does that have to do with anything. Wait…. are you saying?”

“Yes. I’m seeing evidence of you being pregnant. Looks like it’s 5 weeks along but we can do some more in depth scans to be sure.”

You don’t hear anything after that.

Feeling a mixture of dread, wonder, happiness, and wondering how the hell you were going to deal with this?

“Was this a wanted pregnancy?” This question snapped you out of your spiral.

“Well I didn’t even know that I was pregnant! But….. yes, I think so.” Caleb’s baby. You bring your hands to your slightly bloated abdomen.

Ah, that’s why.

You hadn’t even noticed that your period was late in all the turmoil.

“I can give you a referral to an OB if that’s what you prefer.”

“Yes thank you, I appreciate it.”

He sends you some virtual information and lets you know that you should read the e-book on what to expect.

“Thank you Zayne.”

“Right, well you should get home. The information I sent you should have some foods that may be easier to keep down. I would suggest reviewing those and actually eating something. The weight you’ve lost already isn’t great for the baby or you.”

You suddenly feel guilty, not that you knew that you were pregnant but it still made you feel bad.

“Yes thank you Zayne, good night.”

You start to head out but he calls your name out so you stop to look back at him expectantly.

He seems to swallow a bit harshly before uttering

“Congratulations”

Smiling for real for the first time in half a month, you glow at him

“Thank you!”

You head out and head home.

Caleb may be gone for now but he had left you something very precious.

You hadn’t thought that you would be pregnant in your relationship quite this soon but you did what this baby. It was Caleb’s after all.

Wait

Caleb.

He doesn’t know and you have no way of telling him. He won’t be gone for the whole pregnancy but he was going to miss a lot of the early important milestones.

You don’t even know if he wants the baby.

No no, you shake your head.

He would definitely want this baby.

Determined now, you reach your apartment and sit on your couch while sipping your sad protein drink.

Using your phone, you look at the list of foods in the information Zayne sent over.

Crackers, ginger, fruits, a lot of mild and still somewhat sad foods but it was better than a protein drink.

Quickly tabbing over to a delivery app, you load up on early pregnancy foods to be sent over that night.

Task completed, you stretch back over the couch.

What a long day.

Oh! You could write letters and send Caleb voice as well as video messages so that when he gets back he’ll have a total record of what happened.

That way he could still be a part of it in some way.

Settling down into the couch, you hold your phone up to record your face.

“Hi Caleb! Guess what!?”

Making a show out of it, you bring your face close to the camera and glare at the imaginary Caleb.

“You got me pregnant! All those times you told me you would just pull out have come back to bite you. I told you so!”

You laugh a bit before continuing

“But really, I’m excited. I miss you so much so this is like having a small piece of you with me always.”

You look down where you had been unconsciously rubbing that small bloat that really wasn’t a true bump yet.

“Oh do you want to see?”

You place the phone on the coffee table, propping it up against your fake plant.

“See! It’s not a true bump but you can feel the firmness and see my little soon to be bump.”

You run your hand over it to exaggerate it. Smiling down sadly before glancing back at the camera.

“I wish you had been here to find out with me. You would’ve probably fainted if I had taken a test to check and I showed you the positive result. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t have!”

You tear up a bit at the thought of him being gone for all this.

“I wish you were here…”

You grabbed your phone and brought it back to your face again.

“But I’ll send you lots of updates! So you can see them all when you get back! I love you Caleb. Come home soon okay?”

You stop the recording, sending it to him. Knowing he wouldn’t see it for a few months. But you were just glad to make him a part of the process somehow.

All the while, unaware that Caleb may never come home to you.

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @midiplier @tabi-callico

[willowsnook]

an experiment pt. 4

lando norris x reporter!reader

a/n: this is the final part friends. hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this. thank you for all the kind words

tags: @sarx164 @wildflowerrsszz, @jaematthews15, @opastries81 @armystay89 @hadesnumber1daughter @dying-inside-but-its-classy@chlmtfilms@freyathehuntress @ashley-k@charlesgirl16@widow-cevans@cmleitora@rawr-123s-stuff@majapapaya4@fullmugwolffish @330bpm-whiplash @prudyhoo

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3

------------------------------------------------

You sat in complete silence for five minutes. 

That fucking asshole. 

A wave of rage fueled you as you bolted up and to your bedroom, ripping out your suitcase from underneath the bed. Muttering under your breath about that man having the audacity to hang up, you started pulling clothes out of your drawers and shoving them into the bag. 

Once that was done you got on your laptop to find the next flight to Monaco. The prices made you want to throw up but in your pissed off state, you didn’t care. This is why credit cards exist, right?

13 hour redeye. Godspeed. 

—-----------------------

It was 4:30 in the morning when Lando woke up to someone pounding on his door. What the fuck? He thought before getting out of the bed, rubbing his eyes as he made it to the door. 

To say he was shocked when he saw you standing there was an understatement. 

“I can’t believe you hung up the phone on me,” you yelled at him angrily in greeting, moving past him to set your bag down. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked sleepily, trying to figure out if this was a dream or reality. 

“I’m here to fight you,” you told him, crossing your arms. 

“You want to fight me?” He asked, confusion on his face. “Can we do that later? It’s five in the morning.” 

You wanted to argue back with him but a yawn escaped your mouth and he gave you a knowing look. 

“Fine, I didn’t really sleep on the plane anyways,” you admitted. “Too busy figuring out what to yell at you.” 

He chuckled before beckoning you to follow him down the hall, you stopped outside of his room. 

“Do you not have a guest room?” You asked and he smirked at you. 

“I do but right now it’s a storage unit for a bunch of racing stuff, so this will have to do,” he said. 

“Can’t you sleep on the couch or something?” You complained and he rolled his eyes. 

“Oh so you confess your love to me on the phone but are getting cold feet now?” He mocked. 

“I didn’t confess my love, I just said that I maybe missed you,” you grumbled, slipping off your shoes. Lando watched as you walked over to his dresser, digging around until you found one of his bigger t-shirts to change into. 

“No cuddling,” you warned as you got into the bed, pulling the covers all around you. Lando respected your statement, sticking to his side of the bed as you drifted off. 

You startled awake to the sound of someone else pounding on the door. Lando had shifted over during your nap, his arms wrapped tightly around you. 

“You’re joking,” he mumbled into your neck. You squirmed to get out of his hold. 

“I told you no cuddling,” you grumbled back at him. You started to throw another insult at him but he jerked your chin towards him, pressing his lips harshly against yours before getting up. 

“I don’t care,” he said. Catching your breath, you heard him greet whoever was at the door, the spanish accent you would recognize from anywhere. 

Carlos was in the kitchen talking to Lando as you entered, his eyes widened at the sight of you, especially in the very minimal clothing. 

“Y/n!” He exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. “I see Lando finally came to his senses.” 

“No, she just showed up at my door this morning,” Lando said, annoyed. Carlos smirked at his friend before turning to you. 

“Seems like it was a nice reunion,” he teased, eyeing you up and down. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you chastised. “We just took a nap, we have a big fight between us on the schedule today.” 

“Well it’ll have to wait because Lando and I are doing a Quadrant shoot in an hour,” Carlos said. 

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll just catch up on work here.”

Lando shook his head, “if you think I’m letting you out of my sight again, you’re very mistaken. You are coming with us.”

You started to argue but the glare he sent your direction shut you up. Carlos waited as you both got ready and then you were off. Lando drove to the sight, his hand gripping your thigh tightly while Carlos smiled to himself in the back. Just happy his friends were together and hadn’t killed one another yet. 

Everyone was already there when you arrived and you let Lando drag you along to where Max was with the cameras. 

“Y/n,” he greeted, surprised. “Good to see you.” 

“You too,” you said, catching the smirk he sent Lando’s way. Lando and Carlos were whisked away to shoot and you hung out with Max in the meantime. 

“Lando didn’t tell me you were coming to Monaco,” Max said. 

“I didn’t tell him I was coming,” you told him and he nodded. 

“That would explain why he was still all pissy yesterday. Been that way honestly since you kicked him out of Austin.” 

“I didn’t kick him out of Austin,” you grumbled but Max’s face made you sigh. “Okay fine maybe I did, but I made a mistake.”

“Does he know that’s how you feel?” Max asked. 

“Oh yeah he does, I told him and then he hung up on me immediately,” you said and Max let out a sharp laugh. 

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Classic Lando. He's been moping for months, and when you finally reach out, he panics and hangs up. No wonder you flew all the way here."

You sighed, watching Lando pose for photos with Carlos. "I don't know what I was thinking, honestly. We still have so much to figure out."

Max nudged your shoulder. "Hey, the fact that you're both here, willing to try, that's a good start. Just... talk to each other, yeah? No more running away or hanging up phones."

You nodded, offering him a small smile. "Thanks, Max. When did you get so wise?"

He grinned. "I've always been wise. You lot just never listen to me."

As the shoot wrapped up, Lando made his way back over to you, his eyes darting between you and Max, a feeling of jealousy creep up his spine at the way you were laughing with his best friend. 

Max was explaining a new project they were working on when you felt two arms wrap around your waist and a chin settle on your shoulder. 

“All done?” You asked him softly. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Ready to go?” 

—------------------------

You waited for Lando as he showered, twiddling your thumbs anxiously knowing that the conversation you’d been avoiding was looming. 

When he finally emerged, damp curls falling messily over his forehead, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, you had to force yourself to focus. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“So,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, “are we actually going to talk, or did you just fly all the way here to yell at me some more?”

Your jaw clenched. “Oh, don’t worry. We’re talking. But I make no promises about the yelling.”

Lando scoffed, dropping the towel onto a chair. “Right. Because it’s all my fault, isn’t it?”

You shot up from your seat. “You hung up on me, Lando! After everything—after months of silence—you didn’t even have the decency to listen to me!”

His nostrils flared. “And what was I supposed to do, huh? Just pretend like it didn’t rip me apart when you pushed me away? That I was just waiting for you to decide I was worth calling?”

“I never said you weren’t worth it!” you snapped. “I was scared, okay? I panicked! But at least I’m here, trying! You—” You jabbed a finger into his chest. “You just ran away like a coward!”

Lando grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not rough. “Coward? Are you serious? You were the one who shut me out, Y/n! I gave you everything, and you threw it away like it didn’t mean anything!”

“Oh, fuck off with that,” you snapped, yanking your hand free. “You don’t get to act like the victim here. I was scared, yes, but you didn’t fight for me either! You just let me go and then acted like I never existed!”

His jaw clenched. “Because I didn’t know what the hell you wanted! One second, we were good, and the next, you were pushing me out like I was nothing.”

“That’s bullshit,” you seethed. “You knew how I felt about you, and instead of trying to talk to me, you let your ego get in the way.”

Lando let out a sharp laugh, running a hand through his hair. “My ego? Jesus Christ, Y/n, you really think this was about my ego?”

“What else would it be about?” you shot back.

His hands balled into fists at his sides. “It was about the fact that I was falling in love with you, and you just—” He exhaled harshly. “You shut down when things got hard. You didn’t trust me enough to stay.”

Your breath hitched, the words slicing through your anger like a knife.

Lando’s chest rose and fell heavily, the weight of what he’d just said hanging between you. You swallowed, hands trembling as you clenched them at your sides.

“And what about you?” you whispered. “You say I didn’t trust you, but you didn’t fight for me either. You let me walk away.”

Lando’s eyes darkened. “Because I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Well, it wasn’t.”

Silence.

You both stood there, breathing hard, staring at each other like two opposing forces in an inevitable collision.

Lando was the first to move. One step forward. Then another. Until he was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“They told me I could have the F1 assignment if I wanted it,” you whispered. 

His hands hovered near your arms, uncertain. “And do you?” he asked, voice low, rough.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “If you still want me to.”

A beat of hesitation.

And then he reached for you.

You didn’t stop him. Didn’t push him away. His lips crashed onto yours, desperate, angry, needing. You matched his intensity, fingers curling into his damp curls, pulling him closer as if you could make up for all the lost time in one kiss.

When you finally pulled away, foreheads pressed together, you exhaled shakily.

“No more running,” you murmured.

Lando nodded. “No more hanging up.”

You cracked a small smile. “And no more being a dick?”

He chuckled, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “No promises.”

[thefeverburningalive]

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ 𝖳𝖾𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨 𝖧𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖠𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖸𝗈𝗎.

billie eilish x f!reader

chapter one

summary: due to your the recent new rule given to your sister by your father, some meddling parties decide the easiest way to get you to date is by paying somebody to take you out. who better to do so then the hot mysterious delinquent?

a/n: hii omg first series! if you haven’t seen the actual movie 10 things i hate about you i totally recommend it’s so cute and i love it sm:) clearly i love it sm i wrote a fic about it! this first part is more of a set up for the rest of the series but it’ll be so so worth itttt. anyways yeah i hope you guys love it feel free to comment or anything and lmk if you’re interested in a tag list!! mwah<3

genre: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, enemies(ish) to lovers, lowk fboy billie but not actually, eventual topics of drinking & high school parties

warnings: none!

word count: 2.4k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“okay then,, what did everyone think of ‘the sun also rises’?” the voice of mr. morgan echos throughout the classroom. soon after a bubbly red head girl speaks up. “i loved it! it was soooo romantic.” romantic? what a joke. you had read the same work of literature of course, along with a plethora of others. the average student didn’t do half as much reaserch as you do, going out of your way to read the very works of hemingway, shakespeare and others. not only did you read their works but you studied their lives. did this girl even know anything about hemingway?? men like him don’t know anything about love- much like every other person. you had no patience for this today. “romantic? hemingway?! he was an abusive alcoholic misogynist who squandered half his life hanging around picasso trying to nail his leftovers.” as the people around you roll their eyes, you couldn’t care less. you’re a women with strong beliefs and opinions, you had the right to express whatever you wanted. especially when you’re right. of course right on time your least favorite person decided to now speak his own mind. joey donner. the air headed, pretentious, self centered, jock, who took every advance he could get his hands on to get under your skin. not only that but he’d also been seen hanging around your sister. “as apposed to being a self-righteous hag who has no friends?” you refused to even look his direction. you had no issues with how you are, it’s how you’ve always been. making friends with mindless hormone filled teenagers was a complete waste of your time, besides, you in-fact had one friend. the rest of the class snickers and giggles while joey gets a fist bump from one of his other jock buddies. how could someone applaud his behavior? “i guess in this society being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time. what about sylvia plath? or charlotte bronte? or simone de beauviour?” you started to raise your voice, trying to be heard over the nonsense being said around the class. unfortunately, your comment only causes more uproar and mockery. “hey! hey!!” mr. morgan tries to regain the attention of the class as joey raises his hand. “um mr. morgan is there any chance we could get y/n to take her mydol before she comes to class?” you where now fuming. you couldn’t even focus on anything else the teacher continued to say, even if he was putting joey in his place. this is why you can’t stand the thought of love or romance. it causes nothing but issues, even when it’s only being discussed. your attention is grasped once again when mr. morgan now turns to you. “y/n. thank you for your point of view-“ you start to smirk. “-i know how difficult it must be for you to overcome all those years of upper middle class suburban oppression. must be tough” within a split second your smirk deflates and turns into a scoff. so just because you grew up comfortable means you can’t understand the bullshit that goes on in society?? what bullshit.

before you knew it the end of the day was here. you arrived back at home a few minutes before your sister, bianca. bianca was the complete opposite of you. take away the fact that she’s two years younger than you, she was bubbly, friendly, popular, liked, and very ‘cutsey’. to say you two didn’t always get along was an understatement. as you walked through the living room your father sparks conversation. “hello y/n. make anyone cry today?” he speaks with a generally monotoned voice while reading the news paper, a slight smirk decorating his face. “sadly no, buuut it’s only 4:30.” joking around with your dad was always one of the highlights of your day. soon after your remark your sister skips through the door. “hi daddy!” bianca tries to continue to skip passed the entire encounter. but of course you weren’t going to let her do that. “and where have you been?” you say with a sarcastically bubbly tone. you’re met with a sour glare as she claims she’d been ‘nowhere’. “hey dad why don’t you ask bianca who drove her home today?” your dad suddenly snaps out of his probably boring newspaper. “who drove you home??” hah. busted. that’s what she gets for hanging around joey. he’s no good and you just want to protect her. “now don’t be upset daddy, but there is this boy..” you cut her off before she even gets to finish. “-who’s a flaming imbecile!” bianca gives you a glare. “and i think he’s gonna ask me out!” that’s all your father had to hear before he starts to go on a rant about boys and dating. your dad had always been very very clear about dating in high school, making the number one rule of the house ‘no dating till you graduate’. “can we just focus on me for a second please? i am literally the only girl in high school who’s not dating!!” you sit back with your arms crossed on the couch listening to the two of them go back and fourth. it was honestly very amusing. “oh no you’re not, your sister doesn’t date.” this makes bianca throw her arms up in frustration. “y/n’s a freak! she comes from planet loser!” ouch? well if she was going to insult you it was fair game to insult back. you stand up, taking a step closer. “at least i don’t act like some bimbo prancing around going ‘oo look at me look at me!!’” at that point your dad steps between the two of you before she could even rebuttal. “how about this, old rule out new rule in..” he turns to bianca. “you can date..” he stops and looks over at you. “..when she does!” well- there goes bianca’s chances of going on a date for the rest of her life. “but she’s a mutant! what if she never dates?!” the question makes your father audibly laugh as he starts to leave the house, most likely on his way to a shift at the hospital. bianca looks at you with a grunt and storms off to her room.

the next day

bianca sits in the library pissed off, waiting for her french tutor, cameron. as soon as he arrives she sits up. “hey soo can we make this quick? theres gonna be a huge public break up in the quad in like 15 minutes.” bianca could care less about learning french. if she couldn’t date she at least still wanted to stay in the ‘it’ crowd. “oh uhm yeah sure.. but i was thinking i- uhm- maybe french food-? like me and you? sometime?” the nervous boy fiddles with his organized binder infront of him. “i-i know your dad doesn’t let you date.. but uhm- i thought that if it was for french class..” his nervous sentance sparks an idea inside of bianca. “wait a minute- my dad just came up with a new rule. i can date when my sister does!” the boy infront of her suddenly shakes off his nervous demeanor and starts to get excited. “oh! well in that case! how do you feel about italian food?” bianca puts her hands down on the desk that seperates the two. “slow your roll buddy. minor issue at hand with that. if you hadn’t heard, my sister is a particularly ridiculous breed of loser. she just doesn’t do relationships. i have no idea why. she used to be popular a couple years ago but then she just like- got tired of it or something. some people say it’s cause she’s like a girl lover or something but im pretty sure she’s just incapable of human interaction. plus, shes a bitch.” cameron takes a minute to take in all of what bianca’s just told him, the gears turning in his head to try and piece together a plan of action. “well i mean, there’s gotta be someone into her.. aggressive.. personality?” bianca then puts her hand over his. “you’d really try and find someone to date her for me?” she bats her prissy little eyelashes at him, inevitably making him blush. “y-yeah sure thing.” and with that bianca says her thank you and goodbye and exists the empty library.

unfortunately for cameron, the task of finding a date for y/n stratford was farthest thing from easy. after about an hour of going around asking, and getting a lot of negative backlash, he starts to lose hope. “this is hopeless dude. everyone thinks she’s like evil or something!” he groans sitting down next to his friend on a bench outside. “no no cam listen- you’re just not looking for the right type of person. look at her.” he then points to none other than billie o’connell. she was leaning against a wall, cigarette in hand, conversing with her friend zoe. billie was known as a delinquent. she skipped class, smoked cigarettes, disobeyed most instructions, and didn’t give a damn what other people said. she was the perfect candidate. she was hot- there was no denying that. she was also known for being a huge flirt with the ladies. if anyone was up to the task, it was billie. “ok that’s great but also she’s scary.. and how do we know she’ll even do it? she seems like the type of person to only do things for herself.” cameron makes a valid point, to which his friend micheal puts an arm around him. “you have to learn how to play the game my friend. if there’s one thing all outcasts want, it’s money. now obviously we don’t have any- but if we had a backer then we could get someone else to pay billie thinking that he’s gonna get to be with bianca but in reality you sweep in and steal her away!” as crazy as the planned sounded, it was pretty solid. especially since joey had shown special interest in bianca and definitely had money to spare. after some sweet talking and convincing, cameron and micheal successfully convince joey to take part in their scheme. all joey had to do was ask billie. “yo. o’connell.” joey approaches billie and zoe while they sit out in one of the many courtyards the school has to offer. billie glances at joey, noticing him walking over. she fixes her navy blue baseball cap and smirks. “sorry big shot, i don’t swing that way.” her and zoe chuckle while joey rolls his eyes. “real funny. listen. i’ve got a proposition for you.” billie listens, showing no expression on her face. “see that girl over there? that’s y/n stratford. i want you to go out with her.” billie lets out a hearty laugh, even leaning her head back as she continues to keep her arms crossed and legs spread out. billie’s display of laughter aggravates joey, he lets out a sigh and continues to speak. “look i can’t take her sister out until y/n dates. and she’s impossible. i’ll compensate you for the favor.” the word ‘compensate’ makes billie’s ears turn on, she leans her elbows onto her knees and interlocks her hands. “and how much are you offering exactly?” she glares up at him, asserting her dominance. “twenty bucks.” billie scoffs. “ok fine- thirty bucks.” joey adds on, making billie catch onto his desperation. she then stands up, putting her hands in the pockets of her baggy janco jeans. “well let’s think about this. we go and see a movie and that’s uh- twenty five bucks. we get popcorn and snacks and shit and that brings us to about fifty. then of course she’ll want a drink to wash down the junk food, and by the end of the night you’re looking at about seventy five bucks.” the jock crosses his arms and takes a step closer to billie. “this ain’t a negotiation. take it or leave it.” billie smiles and sighs, glancing over at zoe, then back at joey. “fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal.” and before anyone knew it, joey was taking a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet and aggressively slamming it into billie’s hand.

you’re on the soccer field, sitting down on one of the benches as you get ready to leave practice. you start to change out of your cleats as you feel a presence approach you. “well hey there mamas. how ya doin’?” the sound of billie’s voice, along with the stink of her lit cigarette, pulls you up from what you where previously doing. you take a moment to look her up and down. she’s wearing a bright yellow jersey for some team you didn’t recognize. she paired it with some baggy jeans, beat up nikes, and a navy blue la baseball cap, her neck decorated with various necklaces and chains. you didn’t know much about her, aside from her name and the fact that she was sort of a rebel. after the brief observation, you raise an eyebrow in question at her before answering her question. “sweating like a pig actually. and you?” your tone was a mix between condescending, cocky, and unamused with a bit of sarcasm- your usual tone. billie chuckles and puts out her cigarette. “now there’s a way to get a girl attention, huh?” the comment makes you cringe. that’s the last thing you want. you respond as you roll your eyes. “my mission in life. but obviously i struck your fancy so as you see it works.” the annoyance and sarcasm where basically leaking out of your pores. you grab your soccer bag and start to walk away. of course, billie starts to follow you. “pick you up friday then?” you’re somewhat shocked at her boldness, and her persistence- you’re still annoyed either way though. “oh yeah. friday. of course” you start to speed up your walk and head toward the student parking lot. billie eventually stops following you, taking a moment to just observe you. yes you are a bitch, there was no denying that. you’re dismissive, arrogant, closed off- but you’re also smart. confusing. beautiful. a puzzle for billie to try and solve. and billie is always up for a challenge, especially when there’s money involved.

to be continued..

[sweetbunpura]

Past Relationships.

I know Valentine's day is around the corner, but I couldn't resist the urge to write about Yuu's past relationships~

"Yuu."

The girl looked over at Epel as the first year group sat in the courtyard. The winter frost had started melting early as temperature started to rise allowing the gang to break out the lighter jackets today.

"You said you were in a couple of relationships in the past. What was the worst?"

"Really?" Ace looked at the farmer. "That's what you ask?"

"I mean, she said she's been in worse ones before!" Epel crossed his arms. "I was just curious."

"It's fine, it's fine." Yuu waved her hand and hummed as she tried to remember. "I think I was like either thirteen or fourteen at time, I kinda blotted the guy's name from my memory. Probably Brad or some other boring shitty name. Uh, he was part of the basketball team and he asked me out on a date."

"You said yes?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"I was young, sue me." She shrugged. "Anyway, he took me out on a movie date and a couple of other dates until we officially announced we were dating."

"There's a "but" in there." Deuce pointed out.

"You are correct. A week or two later, he starts acting really shitty. I'm talking calling me names and talking me down and shit. Calling me ugly and how I should be lucky he gave me a chance at all." She scoffs. "He even said I was pretty for a black girl, can you believe that shit? He even tried getting money out of me, saying how he was entitled to some of it since I was his boyfriend."

"He should be lucky he isn't here." Sebek crosses his arms with a glare.

"He wouldn't even last a day here. About a month into dating, he notices I'm not bending the knee to him, giving into his demands and everything. Basically, the emotional manipulation isn't working and so he tries to amp it up. By now, the whole school knows something was going on with me and him. I wasn't popular, but I was nice enough that people wanted me to be their friend." Yuu curled a strand of hair around her finger. "When the amped up manipulation doesn't work, he tries physically attacking me."

The boys eyes widen as they heard that and tensed up.

"Sevens, Yuu!" Deuce sat up. "What happened? Tell me you knocked this guy into next week!"

"I did. The moment he tried to punch me, I caught it and punched him in the face. He cried and held his face while he's on the ground, complaining that I broke his nose. He kicks at me and well.... I start swinging. Teachers had to pry me off of him and call my parents, big whole ass issue." She sighed.

"How did you manage to take all of that for a month?" Ortho blinks.

"Simple, I told my mom about everything he had done and she told me to write it down so she could gather evidence on it. But she also told me never to believe the lies someone like him spits out in order to drag me down. He didn't like how strong I was compared to him, so he tried to tear me down with words instead." She crossed her arms. "My dad and mom said I could only fight back if he throw the first punch, he did and he was swiftly put in his place. Come to find out it was all a dare one by his shitty teammates cause they dared him to ask me out and date me because they thought I wasn't attractive enough."

"What happened to the guy, Henchhuman?"

"The school and his family got sued, they tried to sue us instead but because of all the evidence and eye witnesses, they couldn't get away with it. That's the story, the end~"

"I see why he's the worst now." Epel muttered. "Almost regret asking. Wait... is that why you have issues with Ace ghosting that girl?"

"Can you stop bringing it up!?" Ace snapped.

"Honestly, yeah." Yuu fixed the red head with a glare. "But I've gone off on him about it."

"So..." Jack spoke up. "...Does he know?"

Everyone's eyes shifted over to see Leona walking down the hallway as he yawned. He was unaware of the eyes on him as he continued walking.

"I've told him everything and I had to stop him from shredding the bed." Yuu gave a soft smile. "Four relationships and this one is the golden one."

"...Wait four?"

"Story time's up boys!" She got to her feet. "Another time maybe."