#I can already feel women being put in there place with bad button ups and fixing there hair

[gayoldmobster]

Keep getting in trouble with my family with talking about 70’s Male tits

[agendabymooner]

time to rock and roll || fa14 fic (1)

THE BREAKUP AND MAKEUP DUOLOGY — PART ONE

“when will you learn? i’m the queen and i’ll put you in your place.”

Summary: It was 2007, and Fernando Alonso had to learn the hard way that his ego and pride were getting in the way of the love that he built up with the recently-retired professional wrestler Trish Staedtlander. OR the 2007 Canadian GP left Trish no choice but to put on a brave face and show nothing but indifference. It’s safe to say that Fernando’s pride was immediately humbled by her words and impassive expressions as he begged her to come back.

Content warning: 2007 McLaren driver!Fernando, mentions the spygate scandal, exes-to-lovers trope(ish), use of explicit language, poorly Apple-translated Spanish dialogues, platonic!Lewis Hamilton x OFC, brief Jenson Button x OFC content, mentions brief alcohol consumption, jealous!Fernando, 6300+ words of nonsense.

Note: I cannot believe I have returned to my Nando fucker phase. Enjoy xx

masterlist

“¡Si así es como funciona, entonces me voy! Feliz jodido aniversario para ti.” If this is how it works, then I’m leaving! Happy fucking anniversary to you. 

“Vuelve, Trisha,” Come back, Trisha. Fernando sighed exasperatedly. 

“No, Fernando,” Beatrice Staedtlander was a force to be reckoned with. With enough time and money, she could do whatever with her life— yet she had chosen him. She expressed her feelings towards travelling with him, telling him that out of those 52 weekends of a year, she only had him for less than a half. 

He wasn’t keen on the idea of taking her to every race. The worst part about this was that he decided to turn her down at their second anniversary— three weeks or so after she initially proposed the idea of being around him more often through a call. 

Was it because of the grid girls? She asked herself. Because she was certain that she could take it. She fought against the most attractive women in the wrestling industry before, hell she was declared the poster girl for all of them. She definitely had no problem— knowing that she was the one that the Fernando Alonso would come home to. 

She tried to explain to him that she was fine with any kind of issues that may come as they travel. She could adjust for him. But that wasn’t why he kept rejecting her. 

He could have simply said that he didn't want to be angry at her if he had lost. It was much better to cool off on the flight back to Canada instead of having her witness him in the worst way possible. He could have said all of that, but all he said was that he didn’t want any distraction. 

Was that what he really thought of her? All those times she had been with him and he’d be reading something while she spoke… is she just a distraction? Seventeen weekends to compete and another twenty to prepare for the season and all she was to him was something to fill up his schedule?

She really shouldn’t have flown to England for this. She could have just left him working at the McLaren headquarters for his break until the next race.

“I’m going home,” she told him firmly, her voice shaky as she stood there. Her hand gripped the handle of her suitcase as she spewed out, “17 weekends are what I always miss, Fernando, and twenty of those you’re always working or out— so if I’m just a distraction then I’ll make sure to make the rest of your 15 weeks as peaceful as they can be. I don’t want to see you so please don’t come to my house.”

She slammed the door on him and left as soon as she hailed a cab— it took her three minutes to do all of that. Yet it took Fernando five minutes to catch up with her but she was nowhere close to him. She wasn’t in the lobby nor outside waiting for a taxi. 

She already left.

“I shouldn’t have retired early.” “You had a bad injury last year, you had to retire early.” 

“How do I unlearn Spanish?” “Don’t speak it.” 

“Seriously, I really would just like to stay at home and not be here,” Trish whined, playing with the ice on her empty glass. “I’m not fully miserable, guys. Why am I having some sort of intervention?” 

“Psh,” Amy scoffed. “I just watched you eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s for an hour straight while you’re watching Dirty Dancing. It’s been exactly what— seven weeks since you broke up with him. You need the intervention, trust me.”

“I think it’s very brave of you to break up with him,” Jay told her with a slight shrug. Of course he would say that— they’ve dated for three months and Jay constantly flirted with her even after she began seeing Fernando. “Look, maybe if you try to attend the Grand Prix tomorrow you’ll have some sort of closure. You’ll see his face and realize that you deserve better than someone who only cares for you if it’s convenient.” 

“I’m not going to fucking go— thank you,” Trish nodded at the server who walked away after giving her the second glass of rum and coke. Sipping on it, she found herself being stared at by her best friends. “I don’t even know why I decided to go to Montreal of all places! I could have gone to Banff for a vacation instead.”

“Because there’s a part of you that wants to support him,” Amy said. “He sent those passes to you in hopes that maybe you’ll watch him race.” 

“Tried telling him that before,” Trish huffed out petulantly, “look where that got me.” 

“He probably didn’t mean it,” Jay tried to reason out, leaving the blonde to glare at him. She had heard that pathetic excuse before, and she wasn’t about to hear that when defending what she thought was the love of her life. Jay caught the look in her face and grimaced, “Okay, poor excuse, sorry— but maybe there are some things that he hadn’t said?” 

“Did he ring you or something?” Beatrice raised a brow. 

Jay shook his head slightly, “No, but you’ve seen the man. Does he look like the type to ditch you because he’s looking for something new or something?” 

“Yes,” Amy and Trish answered, both looking at the only man at the table. 

Amy looked at Trish, “But Trish, come on, how bad could it be? We only have two days to watch— the chances of seeing him may be slim. Plus, we can pull some strings from Stephanie and maybe get some extra privileges that come with the pass?” 

“I do like the sound of that,” Jay nodded. “Talk to the McMahons. Probably find a way to get out of the McLaren area?”

“Yeah, I’ll call Steph or something. If not, I'm sure Shane would be generous enough to get us some other paddock passes,” Amy stood up and reached for her phone, flipping it open to contact their former employer’s daughter. She walked away from their booth. 

Trish sighed and realized that her drink was empty.

“She’s not calling Shane right? Like my ex, son of my boss Shane just so I can see my other ex race?” Trish asked Jay with a ridiculing face, leaving the other Canadian to shrug his shoulders.

She wished she hadn’t gone to Montreal because she could feel his presence regardless of which part of the city he was in. Those weeks of being alone were hellish, if you were to ask them. 

Everyone had taken notice of the model-turned-wrestler-turned-legend when she, alongside her former coworkers, arriving at the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve. 

It was surprising, to say the least; she assumed that with what she was wearing - a low rise jeans with her custom buckled belt and some tight white tees - she wouldn’t have stuck out. She wasn’t sure if it was the buckle that caught everyone’s attention - or maybe it was the cowboy hat that she wore in the colour of McLaren. But everyone saw her and had taken photos left and right. 

Jay and Amy had also signed some things — seeing as the three of them were to become legends of WWE. They’ve gone around the grid and talked to people. Team principals were rather glad to see the three of them, telling the trio that they made a good impression as professional wrestlers during the Attitude Era. 

The three tried to cut the conversations short, not wanting to withhold the staff’s attention to their own racing teams.

Trish dreaded going to the McLaren area, not wanting to see her lover, Fernando, and feeling like she was imposing once more. Like he said, she was just a distraction… so she saw no reason why she should see his team before the qualifying. Her feet were backing off and she was ready to walk away. 

She would have gone had it been for a young Lewis Hamilton who caught a glimpse of the Canadian wrestler. He was quick to reach out to her.

“H- Miss Stratus!” He greeted her, nervousness written all over his face but he smiled nonetheless. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. My name is Lewis Hamilton.” 

Trish quickly recognized the name, “Ah yes! It is very nice to meet you, Hamilton. You’re extremely impressive you know? I’ve watched the races from the television and you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s too bad I’ve never seen you race in person ‘til now.” 

“That’s a lot of compliment coming from you,” Lewis chuckled meekly, “and you’re the one to talk. You’ve been an amazing wrestler and character during your active years. Some may think that your championships were nothing but a joke but I think they were rather fitting for your character.” 

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, “when someone tries to bring you down, it’s just easier for you to either ignore them or eat up the attention.”

“And you chose the latter,” Lewis laughed. 

“And I chose the latter,” Trish nodded. “As much as I’d like to keep talking I think I’m gonna have to cut the conversation short. I'd hate to impose and distract you—“

“Nonsense!” Lewis insisted, “Alonso’s been looking for you since we arrived a few days ago. I think he was worried you weren’t coming this weekend—“

“What?” Trish interfered, disbelief written in her face as she tried to comprehend what was just said. 

Fernando’s looking for her and he’s scared she wouldn’t come.

Her lover had always been confident, some people thought of his personality as something more boastful and egotistical. She always loved that he could get self-assured at times, and that he would often infect her with the same energy until she was at the same level of confidence as him. 

But even his fears could get irrational. 

Sure, the breakup became the talk of the month or whatever (so far there had been ten magazines that had written about it), but not once did he allow any personal problem to get in the way of his racing. Whatever happened in the tracks, he’d make sure to address it, but he would never jeopardize his race just because he had an argument with his parents prior to the competition. 

So his fear of her not being there? Trish was sure that he wouldn’t allow that to get in the way of his world drivers’ championship. 

“Yeah, really,” Lewis nodded in confirmation. “I know he had flown out his mother from Spain too, seeing as this was your country and all. Mrs. Alonso keeps telling me that Fernando’s been keeping you from her so she just decided to come here for you.” 

Okay, maybe there was a reason why he was scared. But they’ve broken up, have they not? It’s been nearly two months, why hadn’t he told Mrs. Alonso about their breakup? Perhaps she found out already, she probably just wanted to see Trish and possibly bitch-slap the Canadian. Maybe.

“Right,” Trish nodded. “I’ll see him around eventually. Maybe you can let her know I’m here? I’ve got to get back to my friends before the qualifying.”

“No problem, Miss Stratus!” Lewis grinned.

“Beatrice,” Trish told him, “call me Beatrice or Trish. Miss Stratus makes it sound like I’m old or something.”

“Alright… Trish,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ll pass the message to her for you. Hope you find your friends before it gets even worse in the paddock.”

“Thank you so much, Lewis,” Trish smiled softly at the man. “Good luck on your qualifying. Try to aim for the pole.” 

“I’ll work hard enough!” Lewis bid his farewell to Trish before returning to the garage. Turning away, Trish kept a small smile on her face before she set off to find Amy and Jay. There was a lot for her to say about what she just found out.

“HOLY SHIT! HAMILTON’S AT POLE!” Jay screamed, his mouth gaping as he turned to look at his friends with widened eyes. The shared flabbergasted look on Amy and Trish’s faces matched with the man as they yelled excitedly, trying not to jump up and down in joy.

“He’s fucking pole tomorrow!” Trish yelled, grin widening even more as she shook Jay’s shoulders.

“…I think you should be more excited for something else, Beatrice,” Amy poked Trish on the side, making the Canadian turn around to face her best friend. Amy pointed at the screen, all of them watching as a checkered flag was displayed next to Fernando’s name and his final qualification time showing up next to the second one. “Nando’s at P2 tomorrow.” 

Trish’s smile faltered for a moment, taking in the information as her chest swelled with pride. Her mouth returned to its curled position. She turned around to celebrate Hamilton’s pole position for a literal second and her man came running to retrieve the second position. Talk about a win. 

Before they could even leave the McLaren’s hospitality they were approached by a media relations member to let them know about being interviewed. It wasn’t as if they could get out of that duty— Martin Brundle would most likely be the one to approach them if they hadn’t been notified and if there was anything Trish had learned it was that you don’t simply walk away from him. 

“Trish, this is the first time I have seen you since last year’s Canadian Grand Prix,” Martin started once he introduced the three. “With what’s happening between you and a certain McLaren driver, or what even happened, how do you feel being in the circuit?” 

“Well, I am quite excited for tomorrow. Seeing McLaren with a pole and a second position made me feel so giddy,” Trish grinned. She wasn’t lying, but she didn’t mention him nor the comment that Martin made about their famous break up.

“Rumour has it that you weren’t planning to go this year,” Martin asked her. 

Amy decided to answer for Trish, “She wasn’t supposed to. She didn’t want to, I mean. And I know that this had been her tradition since she got her what— fifth— sixth Women’s Championship title?” 

“Fifth,” Jay piped up, “if it’s 2005, yeah it’s fifth.” 

“Yeah, so this was something that she had been doing since 2005 and if there’s anything that I knew since working with her was that she doesn’t like to skip out of certain traditions. We had to drag her ass out of Toronto a few days ago because well, we didn’t want to waste the passes given to us by a generous driver,” Amy continued, smirking towards Trish’s direction. The Canadian shot her best friend a look. 

“Quite the generous driver, indeed,” Martin said, “have you three congratulated him by chance?” At least the man wasn’t singling her out now. 

“We have not,” Jay answered, “we were planning to call it an early evening after we speak to their team principal however—“

Meanwhile, next to the trio stood Lewis Hamilton, who was being interviewed as well. He spoke about landing on the pole and how confident he was tomorrow. 

Trish thought she misheard what he said as he continued, “I’ve seen Trish Stratus earlier. Trish told me today that I should get the pole position, and obviously being one of my favourite wrestlers and all— I can’t disappoint her.”

“She’s just right next to you actually,” Lewis’ interviewer pointed, making the cameraman pan his camera towards the wrestler who then turned only to see Lewis and the camera in her direction. 

“Oh Lewis!” Trish exclaimed, interrupting the conversation between Amy, Jay and Martin as she apologized meekly, “Sorry, Martin. I’ll just move aside for a moment to speak to Lewis.” 

Then she walked three steps towards the driver, “Can I give you a hug? Congratulations!” 

Lewis took that friendly offer as he grinned, finally pulling away as he said, “Thank you, thank you! We were actually just talking about you and how you told me to get the pole position.”

“And clearly Lewis fulfilled it,” Trish giggled, clapping him on the back. “It’s going to be really exciting to see you tomorrow. And I’ve heard this is your first pole?” 

“It is, it is,” Lewis nodded eagerly. 

“God, I am so happy for you, Lew!” Trish exclaimed.

“And what do you think about McLaren getting another higher position on the grid tomorrow with Fernando Alonso getting a P2?” The interviewer asked, making the wrestler pause for a moment. Her face remained impassive, not wanting to give the papers more things to write about. 

Her quick thinking, thankfully, led her to respond with, “I have always been supportive of each driver and just like the previous races, I never failed to believe that Fernando Alonso would be able to make it in the top ten. Each race that I have been to— I rarely go now— always has the same result with him being successful one way or another.” It was so nice having a media relations manager in WWE. At least she knew how to respond without losing her shit at people who kept on bringing up her ex.

“Do you think that his success in the races you make your appearance in would have to do something with you?” The woman across from the British and Canadian continued to ask, a smile on her face was rather genuine— if you would ask Trish. It was as if they were asking about a romance that had somehow brightened up the racing and wrestling community’s images. 

Everyone did tell her and Fernando that while their relationship was made public they somehow managed to show genuineness instead of the fake smiles and pretentious display of affection. 

So it never hurt for Trish to reminisce no matter what their situation was now. Trish answered the interviewer and said, “You know… that’s something that isn’t up to me. I know for a fact that Fernando was always made for this sport so me being there wouldn’t change a thing. I could be gone now and he’d still land in P2, you know?”

Amy: Gone down to the bar downstairs. Raikkonen and Button r here. R u coming? 

Beatrice: No, too tired. Enjoy though xx

Her room telephone started ringing by the time she shut her phone close, groaning as she glared at the direction of the phone. There was too much to unpack after arriving from the venue that she scolded herself for staying a little longer at the McLaren garage. 

Somehow she found a reason why Fernando refused to take her to the races. Being told that she was some distraction did hurt— but being left in the dark about what could potentially jeopardize his career was another. IFinding out about the information from Ferrari being passed to McLaren left a distasteful feeling on her mouth. She never wanted to take back her words of praise from earlier until now. 

All the more reason to avoid Fernando right? 

Right. But he was determined to make things right for them. 

When Trish answered the phone she initially thought that it was either Jay or Amy, exclaiming, “What? I texted you alr—“

“Trish, hija!” The voice on the other side of the call silenced the Canadian, feeling too stunned and unable to speak for a moment as the sweet voice continued, “¿Te parece bien que hable español?” Is it okay if I speak Spanish?

Trish swallowed the lump on her throat and stammered, “Sí, por supuesto, señora Alonso.” Yes, of course, Mrs. Alonso.

“Hace tiempo que no sé nada de ti, mi amor. ¿Cómo has estado?” I have not heard from you for a while now, my love. How have you been? God, those words were angelic. For it to come from her lover’s mother was a blessing that was hard to believe. 

Fernando’s mother had always expressed her fondness for the woman. Whenever Trish flew to Spain for holidays— all of which were spent with Fernando— his mother would always make sure that the Canadian had everything she needed. She even taught the younger woman a lot about Spanish culture. Needless to say, Mrs. Alonso enjoyed Trish’s company and vice versa. 

“Ah, ha sido duro, pero estoy trabajando duro para pasar el día.” It’s been rough but I’m working hard to push through the day. Trish felt herself smiling before it fell off and asked, “If you do not mind me asking… How did you find my hotel room number?” 

“Espero que no te importe, pero Nando ha sido muy reservado sobre ti últimamente. No me gusta ser entrometido, pero si significa para mí hablar contigo, entonces encontraré algo de sus cosas que me lleve a ti.” I hope you don’t mind, but Nando has been very secretive about you lately. I don’t like being nosy but if it means for me to speak to you then I’ll find something from his things that’ll get me to you. 

Trish nearly laughed at this. Mrs. Alonso, whenever the couple were miles apart, would take it upon herself to talk in the background and join in at the conversation held between Fernando and Trish. She was rather dedicated to keeping her relationship alive with Trish and the younger woman appreciated that. 

“¿Te parece bien si cenamos esta noche? Solo tú y yo, Fernando no estará allí.” Is it okay if we have dinner tonight? It’s just me and you— Fernando will not be there. Mrs. Alonso’s voice sounded more like a plea than it was a suggestion. “Tell me everything that happened.” 

And who was Trish to say no? After all, she was the Alonso that Trish liked the most— not that she would ever tell Fernando that. There’s got to be at least something to lie to him about. Especially when he’d done it multiple times. 

Their dinner wasn’t tense at all. It was as if they’d forgotten about Fernando for a moment as they chatted away, exchanging their thoughts on the current events and laughing about whatever.

Beatrice wasn’t too keen on telling Mrs. Alonso about the silliest things, but the older woman was a woman of detail. She needed to know how their relationship came to an end so easily. And instead of fighting back on it, Beatrice’s shoulders dropped as she started to tell Mrs. Alonso about what had happened weeks ago. 

“We’ve been together for years,” Beatrice said, dropping her hands to avoid playing with her food. She offered a rueful smile to the older woman. “Me hizo sentir como si fuera una carga.” He made me feel like a burden. 

Mrs. Alonso sighed quietly, unable to speak on behalf of her son. Fernando should be the one who would own up to his bullshit, and the pride that he carried within him hindered almost every good thing ahead of him. One of them being Trish. Mrs. Alonso figured that her son bringing his girlfriend along on a trip to Spain for holidays was a sign of love he could offer. 

But hearing about how he exploded and called her an inconvenience? Fernando couldn’t be more wrong and stupid. Even Mrs. Alonso called him that. 

He wouldn’t take Beatrice back home in Spain if she was just another woman to string along. He wouldn’t have lasted for two years in their relationship if he thought that Beatrice wasn’t the woman he wanted to marry. He hadn’t sat her down for three hours while drinking a bottle of wine, teaching her how to speak in Spanish at an intermediate level, just to toss her aside once he got her body trembling. 

A non-committal person would do things like that. But Fernando was in love with Beatrice. He’d see the grid girls wink and even put their hands on him, but not once did he ever try to get a taste of infidelity. He wasn’t like that. 

It baffled Mrs. Alonso to no end, but at least she expressed her empathy for the younger woman while telling Trish that she’d have a word with her son. 

Fernando was an idiot, and Mrs. Alonso was going to remind him how idiotic he could get. 

It wasn’t Fernando’s weekend this weekend, but it was Lewis Hamilton’s. 

And Trish couldn’t be happier for the young British driver. She spoke to him before his race about keeping his pole position all throughout the race. Then she told him that he’s becoming her favourite driver in the grid (which was true). Lewis Hamilton merely grinned and told her that, “I’ll make you even prouder then, hm?” 

And proud, she was. The moment he got an opportunity to be away from the media people, Trish didn’t take her time to drag Amy and Jay to find the man of the night. The Canadian merely rattled off at how exciting the race was for them as they were rooting for Hamilton. Lewis exchanged words and said something like, “I was nervous! I honestly thought I was going to fuck up at some point but no. I didn’t want you to see me race for the first time and watch me be shit at it.” 

Their conversation was cut short when he was pulled away by his press officer. Lewis had to beg his press officer to pause for a moment before giving the three a heads up about a party to celebrate his win. Trish hadn’t even realized what she agreed on, waving him off and nodding as if to tell him that he needed to go. He took this as a yes to the invitation. So when she received a text from him (when he took her number) about the details of the party, she only turned to her friends and said, “I hope you’ve got some nice clothes.”

Being invited to a party wasn’t on their agenda. She thought of staying for two or more days in Montreal to visit the basilica and cathedral church— and maybe she’d check out a farmers market and see if they’ve got a stall of local distilleries. So to be a guest of this race weekend’s winner? She was more popular than some of them yet she was worried about how atrocious she looked. 

She really lucked out when she managed to pull a going out top from her suitcase. A halter neck handkerchief top was what her eyes had settled on. Blue sequins were shining as she continued to hold it under her room’s light. She didn’t waste any time and prepared to go out tonight with her friends— and her new one, Lewis. 

As soon as she arrived with the two, her eyes scanned the place. The dance floor wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either. She saw Lewis by the dance floor and had chatted with him for a moment before she waved at him, telling him to enjoy his night. She immediately went straight to the bar and ordered a martini. 

Her eyes couldn’t help but wander, watching as bodies sucked in the air of freedom and happiness on the dance floor. She could see nothing but enjoyment, one that she craved the most after all those weeks of crying over some man. 

Her gaze shifted to a rather expensive space inside the club. She could see a VIP booth full of familiar faces— those that she saw while she walked around the paddock. If everyone were here, as Lewis had told her, then that meant…

“My, my,” she turned away from the VIP table back to the direction of the entrance, finding herself face to face with Jenson Button. He leaned against the bar counter and offered her a smirk. “Aren’t you a beautiful sight to see.” 

Thanking the bartender, she sipped on her martini with a scoff and asked, “Did that ever work on the girls you wanted to bed?” 

He chuckled heartily, shaking his head as he sipped on his drink — rum and coke. “No,” he teased, “it didn’t work on you, clearly.” 

Her face flushed before she turned away for a moment, hearing him laugh at the embarrassment that she felt. 

Regaining her composure, Beatrice looked back at Jenson. 

She knew that he was joking, but she had heard a lot about the grid singles; they were all trying to gain her attention when she attended the Grand Prix two years ago. Even now, there were still some drivers that were attracted to her. Jenson Button had an underlying problem and it was that his joke was half serious. 

She cleared her throat and pointed at the glass in his hand, “Fifth drink?” 

Jenson shook his head, “First.” 

“I don’t blame you,” raising her martini, she responded with a nod before tipping the drink over her open mouth. The burning sensation down her throat left her hissing quietly, making her companion chuckle in amusement. “It’s nice to know you get off at the sight of a woman in pain.”

His chuckle turned into a snicker as his shoulders shook. He then continued to joke along with her, “Not your thing? We can always compromise.” 

She bursted out of laughter, the burning feeling long gone as she exchanged words with him at the bar. 

What she hadn’t seen, though, was a quiet Fernando. He was sat at the end of the booth, the dimly lit area hiding the deadly stare that he held while Beatrice and Jenson laughed at whatever the fuck they were talking about. 

And as if God was laughing at him, the speakers were playing a remix of Beyoncé’s Irreplaceable. The song mocked Fernando’s vulnerable state.

“I can have another you in a minute, matter of fact he’ll be here in a minute.” 

He didn’t know how long he kept his gaze on the same place, or how many drinks Trish had while he zoned out. He shook himself out of his thoughts when Nico Rosberg called him, asking if he’d heard what the German just said. He only nodded but somehow he ended up being roped into a short conversation. He lost sight of her.

“Baby I don’t give a damn, I know your man’s nowhere in sight.”

Kimi Raikkonen, who had downed four shots of tequila throughout the night, decided that it was the right time to speak. He wolf-whistled as he peered over Fernando’s shoulders, his eyes squinting as he watched the dance floor. “Look at that. Jenson lied about being shit at dancing.” 

“And your eyes don’t tell a lie.” 

Fernando’s head snapped at the direction where Kimi pointed and his eyes narrowed at the sight. It wasn’t a pleasant sight for him. 

Because she was his woman. Not anyone else’s. Not Jenson’s. 

But with their dire situation, Fernando couldn’t call her his woman. She was single. So he painfully watched Beatrice’s face inching towards Jenson’s. 

The BAR-Honda driver’s hands were touching her hips as if he was holding a steering wheel. She smiled at him as if she liked it; Fernando knew she loved how his bigger hands gently rested on her waist whenever he’d sneak up behind her as she made their cups of coffee. Trish didn’t like how Jenson held her. Fernando just knew. 

“I know you wanna come with me tonight.”

Right. That was it. 

Fernando cleared his throat and stood, wordlessly walking away from the booth as he marched his way towards the two. His hand dragged her away from the British man, his face seething while Trish protested. She could’ve just pulled away because of how little force he had on his hold. 

Instead she just followed along as they ended up in a quieter area of the club. A rarity for such a loud venue.

“I can’t believe you,” Beatrice, rather than causing a drama, merely whispered the first four words that she offered him since she walked out with a “happy fucking anniversary.” 

“Trisha—“ he tried to reason out, but he was quietened by her glare. 

“Everything’s falling apart,” she told him calmly, “everything’s falling apart but you refuse to take accountability for being a part of it.”

He remembered the controversy surrounding McLaren and Ferrari. And how he was somewhat a part of it. 

Earlier today, he hadn’t even offered Lewis a congratulations on his first win. He bitterly walked off, frustrated at Lewis’ win and his P9 result. P-fucking-9. He’s been a two time world champion. Now he landed in P9? He was upset. It was even worse when he saw some televised interviews of Lewis and Trish being a little bit friendly as she showered the younger driver with support. Fernando was her favourite driver. Now it’s Lewis. 

Then he remembered how he got into a huge argument with her, practically lying about being a distraction to him just to save face. He hated how his pride got in the way of the things he needed, blaming others seemed to be a better option than accepting defeat. 

Beatrice continued on, “I gave you two years. I gave you half a year, Fernando. Why haven’t you backed out at the beginning if you thought of me that way?”

“I,” he paused to regain his composure, making sure that he was sober enough to speak. “I didn’t mean that.” 

“You were quite passionate when you were screaming abuse at me,” Beatrice muttered sarcastically. 

“I don’t, I really don’t— you have to believe me, mi corazon,” as of this point, he no longer had the prideful attitude. He didn’t care if he didn’t. He wasn’t about to lose her for good. “Everything’s falling apart and I wasn’t sure how to get myself out of it.”

“I could’ve done something,” Trish told him, “I could’ve been there to comfort you, to provide input— and I know jackshit about whatever’s happening. You didn’t tell me anything. How am I supposed to believe you after all of that?

“I can’t be the only one responsible here,” she continued with the pain that felt permanent. “You— ugh.” 

She angrily wiped her tears away, a slight smudge of her mascara showing her exasperation as she asked, “These papers— those people… when they ask you about me— did you ever try giving them an answer?” 

“Did you even tell them how much I fucking meant to you? Or did you just let it all show in front of the cameras because I’m not worth a word to anyone? Did you even bother to look and wonder how the fuck I was doing? After all of that fiasco last year— you weren’t even there!” 

“And that was my mistake, Trisha!” He yelled in the same tone as her. Were they ever glad that nobody could hear them with all of the bass boosting inside the club.

Her lips trembled, unable to contain her sadness. She wasn’t even upset at the way he yelled. She was just sad it turned out like this. 

He sighed, slumping down against the wall as he leaned his head back for a moment. He couldn’t talk to her if he couldn’t contain his frustration. But then again, if he continued to focus more on himself and keeping his composure— she’d walk away again because of the lack of words he had given her. 

His hand reached on her wrist, squeezing it once, “Just stay. Don’t leave, mi corazon.” 

“I’m not leaving,” she spoke quietly, slightly tugging her wrist away from his hold. Did he really think she’d leave? She only left months ago because she knew damn well that he’d much rather be alone… and that he didn’t want her there. “Only did that to make things easier for the two of us. I want to talk- and so do you, so I’m not wasting my time on leaving.”

Fernando Alonso never felt the need to explain himself any further to anyone, he could admit. He didn’t give that much shit what anyone would think, thanks to his ego. But he had never felt the need to explain himself this desperately before. He knew too well that the moment he watches Beatrice Staedtlander slip away from him would be the moment when everything ends for him. 

“Ojalá pudiera volver atrás en el tiempo para poder contarte todo. Sé que he herido a mucha gente debido a mis acciones y he hecho tanto por ti, ojalá no dejara que mi orgullo sacara lo mejor de mí. Mamá tiene razón. Soy estúpido porque te he deje ir tan fácilmente en lugar de tratar de mejorar las cosas,” I wish I can turn back the time so I can tell you everything. I know I’ve wounded a lot of people because of my doings and I’ve done so much to you, I wish I didn’t let my pride get the best of me. Mom is right. I am stupid because I’ve let you go so easily instead of trying to make things better.

His mind was set on panic mode and clearly the rambling of Spanish words showed it. His eyes, ones that were often playful or stoic, softened as he kneeled in front of her, clasping both of her hands as he said, “Please. Let me back in your heart, Trisha. Let me learn.” 

And she couldn’t even fathom the thought of refusing him. Because those two years of relationship didn’t build up to nothing. She hadn’t learned intermediate Spanish in his childhood home for nothing. She hadn’t stayed up late to receive his call for nothing. She wouldn’t have done anything as remotely outrageous as putting his driver number in her tiny bikini for a magazine cover if it hadn’t been for the love and dedication she had for him. 

“You’ve always been in my heart, Nando,” she murmured, peering down at him as she held his face against her smaller hands. Pressing down a kiss on his lips, she then said, “But god if you fucked this up, then maybe we really aren’t meant for each other.”

Fernando stood from where he kneeled, his lips capturing hers in a heated yet gentle kiss as his hand sat on her hip. He couldn’t even seem to answer, but it wasn’t as if he'd ever refuse her. She was someone he’d never turn down; not when he knew that she was it for him.

But this wasn’t the first time they’ve broken up. And this definitely won’t be the last time Fernando Alonso would find himself making the biggest mistake of his life. Thank god, Beatrice Staedtlander was there to remind him that his pride would only hinder his chances of making things right. 

[polyamzeal]

I’m struggling hard with comparing myself and projecting.

My partner decided to start dating again after several years in what was a really rough place in my life. I was starting a new job that had all these plans to grow and expand our relationship pinned to it. She decided to start dating the week before I got paid the first time and could implement any of these plans. It also happened to be a week after my dog of 10 years was put down for on going cancer and seizures. After a couple of bad communication moments and some struggles to emotionally catch up I ask if she could slow down some. Not because she didn’t have the right or needed my permission, but because I was really struggling to catch up and she was moving quickly. From the first day of “I think I need to make more connection with people” to three days later being told she has four dates set up the next week. During which she forgot to lock in our long standing dates and had to rearrange so we could have that date. Then I’m told I have to leave early on my date because the guy she has seen twice in the week since this all started is coming over. I was feeling so cast aside and not considered at all. The entire time she is holding my hand and telling me it’s all okay.

I canceled the date and let her have her date with the new guy but asked to have a long talk about communication and being avoidant with information. She agreed to help me that she would slow down some and said she was sorry for being thoughtless when it came to scheduling. Since she wasn’t going to be able to see new guy for another week due to his schedule. So I decided to not come over and deal with the choice of “get okay real fast with new guy or bail out as fast as I can after work” I hated being backed into a corner like that without discussing it with me first. So, we agreed to help me along through my hard time she would slow down. Next night comes along. I’m already feeling hurt that we canceled the date for some guy she has known less than 2 weeks and he tried to cancel because of something with his dog. So she packs up her stuff goes over and has a topless make out session with him. Which we discussed after as definitely “not slowing down” and that this is her choice but she agreed to help me she would so I’m struggling to believe her when she says sweet or kind things to me because I think she is telling me what I want to hear.

I skip forward and I’m saying okay let’s meet this guy. Anytime I have been anxious about my wife dating when I have met the person I have been disarmed and more comfortable. So we meet. I wore a button up and some slacks. He wore sweatpants and no underwear which left nothing to the imagination. He is about 7 inches taller than me and built. He is literally everything social media and society tells me women want. I can’t be literally any of the things he can and it scares me to death that I’m just going to be set aside.

What is worse and makes it so hard is I struggled so much to make conversation or find him comfortable. This has ALWAYS happened with my other previous metas. It makes it so much scarier.

When this first started my partner and I did this sexual bucket list of thing we wanted from each other and now I can stop picturing her doing this with someone else and being left at home like my wants don’t matter. The hardest part is my partner and I have almost the exact same bucket lists and I was so blown away by someone who wanted these thing with me but now I’m scared I’ll never get those things and I’ll have to watch her have them with other people.

My partner is being kind and helpful but I’m having so much trouble not feeling hurt by her even when she hasn’t done anything wrong and it’s scaring me that I feel so guarded with her right now.

As you can see I’m overwhelmed by my insecurities right now.

It sounds like you are doing lots of things right. You are having lots of communication and clearly asking for what you need but not being pushy about it. Honestly it sounds like the biggest thing is just working on what is causing your insecurities. Fear can make us a bit crazy at times and blow everything out of proportions. I am always saying that PolySecure by Jessica Fern is an overrated book but I think this is the exact perfect situration to recommend the book.

Personally I think that while it is reasonable to ask her to slow down a bit for you the more important conversation should be about re-establishing what you mean to her. No good-looking guy should be able to shatter your self-confidence in yourself and your relationship if you are secure in knowing that what you bring to your relationship is unique and special. Focus on what is in your relationship instead of what isn't and what her other relationships might have.

[damagedintellect]

Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

💌 Would this be considered a social suicide? : Chapter 2 💌  

Summary: You knew it was dangerous to take walks at night but hearing the water rushing under the bridge was calming to your nerves. You didn’t imagine you’d ever fall into the river and somehow wake up in your favorite anime. The isekai that I’m sure will come back to haunt me. It’s kept me up all night but I might as well get the brainrot out.

Notes: Reader is Isekai’d into BSD, Slow to start, Chuuya is endgame but there’s a fair bit of reader & Dazai moments too 

💌 Word count: 2,929 💌 Available Chapters [1] [You are here] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

The next morning you were woken up to a phone call. It was weird since the ringtone was not the one you were used to and the phone wasn’t placed where you normally put it by your side. You tried to keep your eyes closed, you were still tired. Eventually your hand found a flip phone and you picked up the call. 

“Yeah.” you sounded dead tired but sure enough Dazai’s chipper voice filled your ear. “And good morning to you~”

You groaned only half heartedly mumbling “It’s too early for this. Call Atsushi to get you out of the oil drum or whatever you got yourself stuck in. I’m going back to sleep.” You ended up slurring some of the words but you were on the precipice of falling back asleep.

“Wow, that's rude to say to someone who saved your life last night. I called you in good faith that my darling (Y/N) would help me with this emergency. Although that does leave me wondering, does your ability make you psychic?” That’s when the events from the night prior stirred you from your sleepy haze. Oh shit. You felt like you were dunked in cold water. Too much, you fucked up. Fix it. Lie. Lie like your life depends on it. What would Atsushi do? He’d panic and apologize right?

“OH GOD IT WASN’T A DREAM! I thought I was still dreaming. It was just a guess, I’m sorry Dazai I’ll-” you were cut off. Perfect.

“Calm down, I was only teasing you but you should come out once you’ve changed. Atsushi’s already downstairs waiting for you.” He ended the call swiftly after. 

That could have gone better but at least it wasn’t the worst thing having him think you had an ability. Maybe it was a good thing but still you didn’t like the casualness of it all. Dazai was one of your favorite characters that you knew way too much about. Naturally you don’t want to get on his bad side but you wanted to be kept close. Even though you feel like you can anticipate where he’s coming from, the fact of the matter is he’s supposed to be unpredictable. The problem is you want to be important but the man is a walking redflag and boy do you love flags. You already know romance was not an option especially with the way he flirts with women. He clearly doesn't have much interest in such a thing anyways. His idea that everything he desires will be taken from him always gets in the way of developing any deep meaningful relationship anyhow. Or at least was your guess based on what you’ve read. You feel like that’s the reason why he’s always annoying everyone all the time so in the event something were to happen to either them or himself he could continue without much worry. Especially since he wants to die without being a burden to anyone. You shift your focus to the clothes provided for you, a white button up shirt, pants and boots similar to Atsushi’s but instead of suspenders and a tie you were given a lightweight sweater vest to complete your look. You thought it was cute as you looked in the mirror on your way out the door.

You didn’t say much on the way through town, still embarrassed about how you spoke on the phone. Dazai spoke primarily about the job he would help get you both. Sometimes he would glance back at you just to make sure you were still listening. He even winked at you when he was talking about how good of a fit the two of you would be. The man had no right to be this attractive. As Dazai finished talking himself up Kunikida stormed in to set the record straight. 

Atsushi looked over to you “I’m starting to have second thoughts about accepting his help. Maybe I should just look for a job on my own.” 

“Eh, Dazai might seem like a moron but I’d trust him on this one. Think about it, you don’t exactly have the greatest credentials to get a job anyhow.” You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. The reason you didn’t get much sleep last night is because you were dreading the next thing Kunikida was about to say. You're afraid you'll be absolutely useless.

“We have an emergency. A man has taken a hostage and threatened to blow up our office.”

Atsushi tried to protest but Dazai and Kunikida were not having it. You followed along without complaint, of course as was your plan from the beginning. If you’re being honest you forgot half of what Junichiro’s speech was about until you heard it right now. Like who was he talking to if not you guys hiding behind the decorative shrubbery. The office workers and hostage had been there for a while. Why wait till right now to say those things. Atsushi was still trying to whimper his way out of helping and Dazai was trying to coax him otherwise. You only nodded along.

“Then there’s only one option.” Dazai said taking a stance with Kunikida following suit. The game of rock, paper, scissors was short and the face Atsushi was making was priceless. Kunikida stood up and approached the “mad bomber” as calmly as he could. “Hey, easy does it kid.”

“Stay away, I only want to see the president! Don’t you try anything funny or I’ll blow this place to bits.”

Kunikida put his hands up slowly and backed away “Okay.”

“I know who you are. You’re Kunikida. You want me to lower my guard so that you can use that annoying ability of yours to stop me. Well that sure ain't happening. Lay on that desk on your hands and knees, and keep both feet above your head- ” as he continued on, you shook with laughter, suppressing the sound at the strange but clearly not well thought order. You saw Dazai side eye you and you whispered “Sorry I know this is bad but the request he was making, how would Kunikida, just never mind. This means you can’t go out there either, Dazai.”

“It would only make him more angry. Oh my whatever shall we do now?”

You both looked at Atsushi “Absolutely not.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“I already know what you’re gonna ask.” 

You sighed “Atsushi we are the only option.” Dazai nodded “You’re not a formal member and the bomber doesn’t know either of you at all.”

Before Dazai could move you were already rummaging through the boxes to grab newspapers. “Listen, you just need to distract him long enough for me to back you up. We got this alright?” you looked at Dazai for confirmation.

You took the words out of Dazai’s mouth but he just shrugged continuing the thought. “Yeah. How bout you put on an act. Make it depressing like you think you’re a real worthless human being. I know you can do it right?”

You handed Atsushi the newspapers but he still looked worried. Dazai dropped the smile whispering “Trust me, scuffles on this scale are child's play compared to what we normally deal with. You can handle this Atsushi.” He was quaking in his boots as he started his speech. Dazai looked at you and raised an eyebrow. You gave a pointed look at Kunikida “Since Atsushi looks around the same age as the guy it’s better for him to be the one to reason with him. Worst case scenario I’ll just run and throw myself on the bomb. I already don’t have any memories anyways” you don’t look at Dazai’s face you half expected him to make a double suicide offer. Atsushi got right in Junichiro’s face making the perfect opening for Kunikida. While everyone was distracted with relief you started to untie Naomi, ushering her to the other side of the room. By the time Dazai started messing with Kunikida you had already walked behind the desk ready to move the bomb to the far corner.

“Now you’ll pay. I swear anyone with supernatural powers is not totally right in the head.” Tanizaki declared pressing the detonator.

Once the bomb started ticking you were already in the corner. You turned crouching around the bomb “Thanks for last night, it was great we should do it again sometime!” You smiled fearlessly at Atsushi as he grabbed the bomb from your arms and pushed you away. Dazai caught you as you stumbled back. The bomb didn’t go off of course and you all stood around Atsushi. Dazai helped you to your feet asking if you were okay and you nodded.

“Geez you know I figured the kid was stupid but I didn’t expect them both to be suicidal.” Kunikida groaned while Dazai chimed “It seems I’m rubbing off on them. Wouldn’t you agree, Tanizaki?” The redhead peered around Kunikida’s side hesitantly “Sorry, are you okay?”

"Heee?"

You laughed at Atsushi’s confusion as it shifts to clear irritation. “I’m guessing that was the entrance exam?” you turned towards Dazai for confirmation as the president walked in.

“You’re exactly right.” Fukuzawa then explained the rest of the sentiment with Dazai’s plan to get you both into the agency. You leaned on the desk behind you waiting for Atsushi to come to terms with his decision. He was arguing with how violent the job is for him but you pointed out “Way too violent? I don’t think you can say that when you pried me off a bomb to protect everyone.”

He still needed more convincing but you stopped paying attention. Sitting in the closest chair you relaxed into the piece of furniture. Wasn’t your best but wasn’t your worst. Eventually you all went to the cafe downstairs. You got a hot chocolate not really being a fan of coffee and not feeling like tea. You were already tired but it was still only afternoon. You guys still had the whole day ahead of you. 

Junichiro was apologizing to you both but you told him not to sweat it. You made the claim that at some point you realized that he and Naomi were siblings. Naomi didn't even need to be prompted to start molesting her brother. As the siblings did their thing Kunikida came up to talk with you both about upholding the agency’s good name. Meanwhile Dazai was doing the exact opposite by flirting with the hostess. That’s when Atsushi asked what they did before working at the agency.

“Take a guess. It’s a game we play a lot here actually. Newcomer tries to guess his colleagues' former occupations. Think of it as part of training to be a private investigator.”

Atsushi looked at you before you added “I’ve been pretty good at guessing games so far. I'll take my guesses once you get stumped.” You folded your hands behind your head giving him the lead. He hummed “I want to say Junichiro and Naomi were students?” 

“Whoa you got it. Nice one.”

“How did you figure that one out?”

The siblings looked surprised but they really shouldn’t be. It was so obvious given their age and the fact that one of them was literally in a uniform. Why else would they only be part timers “Not half bad Atsushi. What about Mr. Kunikida?” The aforementioned blonde spat out his coffee. “Nobody cares about what I used to be alright!”

Atsushi tried to focus again “Hmm, an official? Did he have a government job?”

“Almost. What do you think (Y/N)?” Dazai gave you time to answer “It might be the glasses but “Mr. Kunikida” screams math teacher.” 

“I could totally picture that actually.” Atsushi responded flatly. Kunikida was grumbling “It was another life. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“What about me then?” Dazai perked up in his chair.

“What did you do?”

“Yup my job.” Dazai smiled knowing he would have no way of guessing. Atsushi went on a rampage trying to guess it. You just sipped your coco waiting. Debating if it was a good idea to frazzle the brunette by letting him know but you wanted to see his face. Kunikida huffed, betting he didn't actually have an occupation before this.

“Not true, I would never lie about something like this. You've given up right?”

Junichiro’s phone went off, drawing everyone’s attention to the call. It was work, Higuchi to be exact. Dazai tried to wrap it up "Let’s save the guessing game-"

"Actually I would like to take my shot in the dark if it's all the same to everyone else. I only need one guess to be right." You interjected immediately. You made up your mind. This was happening. It's about to go down.

Dazai perked up cheerily like he had been for the past few minutes as you leaned in between him and Kunikida. You cupped your hand around his ear whispering “The demon prodigy and ex- port mafia executive himself, Osamu Dazai.” When you pulled away he fiend ignorance and kept up his usual comical persona “Ding ding ding we have a winner! Now let's go meet with our client shall we.” He stood up and started ushering everyone upstairs shooing Kunikida when he tried to ask questions “Wait just like that! I wanna know.” Atsushi followed after. As you passed Dazai he put his hand on your shoulder. The weight was feather light to the touch but had a more threatening presence than a simple hand should have. Had you not thought about your answer the moment you woke here you might have been shaken but your resolve stayed firm. 

“What gave it away?” his voice was warm against your ear. You took a deep breath turning to stare at him and recited the line you practiced in your head. “Ability or not I can see it in your eyes.” you smiled before going after the others. That’s all you should say for now if you continue who knows what the consequences will be. You still had to come up with something to avoid being gunned down by Higuchi or worse killed by Akutagawa.

—

You decided that while Higuchi was leading you to the alley you would start idle chit chat. If you could convince her that you had an ability, maybe she'd feel threatened? That sounded stupid. You could just use Atsushi as a meat shield. You're not picky. "Ichiyo, do you perhaps have someone dear to you who has obscure coughing fits. I apologize if I'm being forward." You skipped alongside her fast pace. Her face shifted for a second. She never gave you her first name. "I do, it must be allergy season right?" You could almost feel the sweat drop at the possibility of the mission being compromised.

You shook your head "If their name is Ryunosuke I'm afraid it's a lung disease. My ability is random foresight but never wrong. It's not my place to say but you should make sure he gets it looked at." You smiled innocently as she was taken aback. Once you got to the threshold of the alley she announced your arrival ignoring your comment. You made sure to stand behind Atsushi knowing she wouldn't risk it. Until Akutagawa showed up, standing behind Atsushi was a good strategy.

As Akutagawa was about to attack you held up your hand and he paused, unsure if you were about to use an ability he didn’t know about. Since you were so new to the agency there wasn't any information about your level of skill. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, not unless you want to make Dazai very angry." He tensed at the mention of his former mentor. "Oh? And why is that?" He pointed a tendril to your neck drawing the slightest bit of blood.

"Because I'm the woman he's going to commit a double suicide with." You smirk knowing he wouldn't dare touch what "belongs" to Dazai. You wonder if he could hear that through the wire. Hopefully you were far enough away from Higuchi. "Very well. Don't get in the way and I'll spare your life." You backed away and watched the show. Junichiro struggled to look back at you making an attempt to glare. As subtle as you could you tried to give him a reassuring look that it was part of a plan and not you being scum. Technically you were being scum but he should cut you some slack. You weren't a fighter.

When Dazai was finished resolving the issue he bounced over to you. "So you're the woman who will commit suicide with me?" He marveled at you with a twinkle in his eyes and sarcasm on his tongue. "I mean you never actually asked but if I get to pick the cause of death, I don't see why not" You had planned for this too. On top of that you were surprised at how long it took for you to be in contention. You must look younger than you were or you could just not be his type. Who knows really when it comes to Dazai.

His eyes widened and you weren’t sure if he thought you were being serious or if he was just playing it up "Of course! What did you have in mind?"

You giggled "Old age." He didn't look amused. "Har Har. You're so proud of yourself aren't you?" He helped Naomi on to your back as he tried to figure out how to carry the boys. 

"Extremely."

<= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

[neonlights92]

Night Changes: PART ONE

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone.  Single.  Solo. 

And that’s just the way he likes it.  That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life.  Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

A/N: my attempt at a college kookie story? enjooooy

--

Perhaps it is the universe telling him to stop drinking. 

Jeon Jungkook really needs to start listening to the universe, and stop listening to - well to put it bluntly - his penis. 

When he wakes up in another stranger’s bed, with a splitting headache, and lipstick marks scattered across his chest, he reckons he should start making better life choices. 

The young woman sharing his bed - a girl from the party last night, with legs that go on for miles - rolls over and blinks her eyes open sleepily.  She smiles at him.

“Hi Jungkook.” 

He racks his brain for her name.  Jisoo… Jennie… Lisa… Rose? 

He feels bad - he really really does - but what can he do?  He was seven tequilas in, when Taehyung convinced him that taking her home would be a good idea. 

“Hi…. You.”  He finishes lamely, smiling sheepishly. 

She blinks again, this time a little more furious.  Her eyes narrow after a moment. 

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”  She purses her stained lips, and Jungkook really does feel awful.

Or maybe that’s just the hangover. 

“I uh - maybe.  It’s.. Last night’s a little bit grainy for me, to be honest.”

She seems unimpressed, arching a well-groomed brow, “You’re in most of my classes at college, Jeon Jungkook.”

And really that’s when he feels like a complete asshole. 

“Shit.  I’m sorry,” He tries to place her - he tries so fucking hard - but he knows he doesn’t recognise her, and a worm of guilt starts niggling in the pit of his stomach.

She rolls her eyes and sits up, pressing a hand against her forehead and clicking her tongue, “Whatever.  Just get out.  Jerk.” 

Jungkook feels bad.  Seriously, he does. 

But he can’t help but share her sentiment.  

He scrambles out of bed, fishing around her bedroom floor for the jeans he so carelessly threw off, and the white shirt he’s sure is stained with something he’ll never be able to get rid of.  He stumbles into the clothing and turns back towards the nameless woman glaring at him from underneath the covers.

“Do you hate me?”

She rolls her eyes, “Get out of my house, asshole.” He winces.  He knows he deserves that.

“See you soon?” She shakes her head, and tugs a hand through her unruly hair, “Hopefully not.” Jungkook bolts out of there like his life depends on it but just as he pulls the front door open, somebody else blocks his way.  And suddenly everything in the world shifts, and he feels as though his heart has just split open right down the middle. 

Because standing in front of him, holding two bags of groceries, is an absolute angel.  

Jungkook thinks - no he’s certain - she’s the most beautiful woman he’s seen in his entire life, and now he understands the songs, and the sonnets and the plays.  This is what love at first sight is.

It has to be.

“Oh.”  She laughs a little, “Hi.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen, “Hi.”

“You must be Y/N’s guest.” 

Y/N.  So that’s her name.

“Uh… Yeah.”

Her cheeks flush brightly, “I’m Soomi, Y/N’s roommate.” 

“Nice to meet you Y/N’s roommate.  I’m Jungkook.”

When she giggles, Jungkook feels like he’s ascended into another plane of existence.  

“Well it’s nice to meet you too.”  Her eyes lower to his haphazardly buttoned shirt, “Under the circumstances.” Jungkook feels stupid and wonderful all at the same time, and just as he’s about to do something crazy - like ask for her number, or ask her to marry him, even - somebody clears their throat from behind him.

In a moment, Jungkook remembers exactly where he is.  His heart drops.

Shit.

Y/N.

“I see you’ve met the asshole I slept with last night,” Y/N raises a brow and clicks her tongue, “You were just on your way out, Jungkook, weren’t you?”

“I… Uh…  Yeah.  On my way out.” Jungkook knows he has no right to feel dejected - after all he was the one who couldn’t remember Y/N’s name in the first place.  But he’s sure Soomi might very well be the love of his life, and he can’t possibly just walk out like this, can he? But when he turns to face Soomi he notices she’s already stepped out of the way for him… And there’s really nothing more he can do.  

“Well uh… It was nice to meet you Soomi,” He moves into the hallway and turns to give Y/N a half smile, “See you in class.”

“Like I said.”  Y/N pulls a face, “Hopefully not.”

Soomi giggles again and he feels like he’s been shot straight through the heart, “Bye Jungkook!”

The door slams shut in his face, and the moment Jungkook is alone he notices how quickly his heart is racing.  Oh god.

He’s in love. 

He has to be.

//

“Jungkook.  You’re being ridiculous.”  Jungkook’s roommate Namjoon rolls his dark eyes, “She is not the “love of your life.”  Stop being so dramatic, you sound like Jin.” Jungkook feels like his heart is about to burst.  It’s been less than three hours since he met Soomi and all he can think about is the curve of her smile.

“No.  I’m serious, Namjoon.  C’mon, when have you ever known me to feel this way about a girl?”

Namjoon sets his mug of coffee to one side and clicks his tongue, “Never.  I’ve never known you to feel this way about a girl.  Which only further proves my point - you’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re just made of ice,” He comments bitterly, “I’m serious Namjoon.  I’m in love.”

“Listen Jungkook you know I usually love to disagree with Namjoon,” This comes from Jungkook’s other roommate Taehyung who is slung across the couch lazily, “But I’ve got to say… This time he’s got a point.  You sound like a crazy person.”

“If you saw her you’d know exactly what I mean.” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes so hard Jungkook is surprised he doesn’t lose one to the back of his skull.

“It’s a girl Jungkook.  A girl you met for all of twenty seconds.” “She was an angel.”

Taehyung giggles, “You’ve really got it bad huh?” “My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I left her.”  Jungkook feels himself deflate slightly, “I need to see her again.” “And how are you going to do that?”  Taehyung raises a dark brow, “Surely you don’t have any classes with her, or you would’ve seen her by now.”

“No but… I have classes with Y/N.”  Jungkook knows it’s a dumb suggestion.  

But he can’t help it.  He needs to see Soomi again. 

“Y/N as in the girl who you slept with and who’s name you couldn’t remember?”  Namjoon scoffs, “Even you can’t be dumb enough to think she’d help you out of the goodness of her heart.”

“No… Maybe not out of the goodness of her heart.”  Jungkook agrees, carding a hand through his cherry red locks, “But I can figure out something she wants.  Y’know… Mutually beneficial.”

“I hope you’re not talking about your penis,” Taehyung pulls a face. 

“Have you not been listening for the past hour Taehyung?  I am in love with Soomi - I’m not about to sleep with her roommate...Again.  I’m a one woman man.”

Namjoon pushes himself to his feet, “Your only hope is that she’s in love with somebody else.  Somebody you could potentially help her seduce.”

Jungkook stands too, “That’s brilliant.” “What about Hoseok?” Taehyung cocks his head to the side, “Everybody’s in love with Hoseok.”

“Do not drag Hoseok into this Jungkook.”  Namjoon gives his friend a pointed look, “I’m serious.  He’s still heartbroken over Alexa.”

“Alexis,” Taehyung corrects, “Why can’t you ever bother to get the names of our girlfriends right?”

As Namjoon and Taehyung argue over Namjoon’s inability to remember names correctly, Jungkook starts thinking of all the ways he can convince Y/N to help him with Soomi.

It’ll be a piece of cake.

Or so he hopes.

//

Monday morning rolls around and Jungkook spends practically every minute from the moment he leaves his dorm scouring the campus for Y/N.  She isn’t in his first class of the day - or even the second.  By his third class of the day he starts to wonder if maybe she’d confused him with someone else.

Maybe there’s another Jeon Jungkook on campus who sleeps with attractive women and forgets their name in the morning.  Somebody else is stealing his game.

But then - like a vision from heaven - she walks into his political science class as if she isn’t the key to all his happiness. Her eyes flit across the lecture room and when they land on Jungkook she glares.  He wants to sink back against himself but he refuses - instead he smiles widely and gestures for her to sit in the empty seat beside him.

She shakes her head as if he’s crazy (and to be honest, he might be) and instead moves towards the very back, sliding into a seat all on her own. 

Jungkook grunts.  He can’t really blame her. 

Still.  Does she really have to make things so difficult?

He grabs his books and shuffles over to where Y/N is sat, engrossed by something on her phone.  When he looks closer he realises it's one of those pimple popping compilations on Youtube.

Gross.

Jungkook clears his throat and when she looks up her expression morphs from surprise into annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting beside my new friend,” He grins wider, “Y/N.”

Her eyes narrow into slits, “What do you want?”

“To make amends,” Jungkook answers immediately, “I kind of feel like an asshole.” “You should.”  She gives him another look of annoyance, “But I’m also not stupid.  You’ve got the hots for Soomi, haven’t you?”

Jungkook feels his stomach drop.  Is he that obvious?

“Everyone has the hots for Soomi,” Y/N waves her hand noncommittally and gives him a once over, “Though not everyone has slept with her roommate.”

Jungkook winces.  It’s clear Y/N despises him.

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

“For forgetting my name or for giving me the worst head of my life?” The insult sears him.  Jungkook may be a little bit of a lady’s man but he’s always been determined to please his lovers.  He wishes he could remember any part of their tryst (to prove her wrong, more than anything) but once again he draws a blank.

“I can make it up to you.” She raises a brow, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue with her - before Y/N’s attention is stolen by the figure that has just walked through the double doors of their lecture room.  Jungkook follows her gaze and smirks when he realises who she’s staring at.

“So you have the hots for Park Jimin then?”

Y/N’s eyes snap up to meet his and she seems flustered, “What?”

“You just looked at him like he rearranged the stars to spell your name,” Jungkook’s smirk widens, “You like him.”

Y/N looks ready to smack him across the face.  

“Shut up.”

“I’m not wrong though, am I?” When her eyebrows dip into a scowl, Jungkook knows he’s won this battle.  He leans towards her, conspiratorially. 

“I know Jimin well.”

That’s kind of a bold statement (and kind of a lie.)  Jungkook knows of Jimin.  He’s on the same dance team as Taehyung and Hoseok - two of Jungkook’s closest friends.  That’s enough of an in, isn’t it?

“No you don’t.”  She mutters with a roll of her eyes, “I can see where you’re going with this.”

“No seriously.  He’s best friends with Kim Taehyung,” Again a slight overstatement, but Jungkook doesn’t correct himself, “And Taehyung is like my brother.  We grew up together.”

“So what?  You help me out with Jimin and I have to do the same for Soomi?”  She scoffs, “Soomi and I are best friends.  I don’t want to lie to her.” “It wouldn’t be lying.”  Jungkook’s voice pinches a little, “It’s just helping fate along.” “Fate?”  Y/N’s expression morphs into one of disbelief, “Oh my god.  You really do have the hots for her.” “If cupid himself descended to earth and shot me in the ass with an arrow, I’d feel exactly the same for her.  Seriously.”

Y/N seems to contemplate the suggestion.  Her eyes move to meet the back of Jimin’s head - where he’s sat in the front row - and she sighs heavily.  Jungkook tries to read her face. 

Is she softening up to the idea?

“Let’s say I agreed to help you.”  Her voice is flat, “How can I be sure Soomi won’t just be another notch on your bedpost?”

Jungkook feels his chest constrict, “I resent that.  Just because I have more experience than others doesn’t mean I’m an asshole.  I don’t pursue women with the intentions of fucking them over.”

He won’t admit it but that assumption kind of pisses him off.  

When Y/N is quiet a moment longer, Jungkook sighs and tugs a hand through his hair. 

“If I do fuck her over…. Which I won’t.  I give you full permission to start a rumour that my penis is the size of a cocktail sausage.  I won’t even deny it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and Jungkook notices (but doesn’t comment on) a red flush to her neck.

“Alright.  Fine.  I’ll help you out with Soomi, if you help me out with Jimin.”

Jungkook has to force himself not to punch the air in triumph.  Instead he grins - nice and wide - and nudges Y/N playfully, “I think this is the start of a very beautiful friendship.”

She groans.

“I’m already regretting this.”

//

Jungkook sends Y/N a text message the next morning, bright and early.  He doesn’t expect a response from her - he assumes she’s more of a night owl than an early bird - but then his phone pings in response and he has to say he’s a little surprised.

Jungkook: good mornin’ y/n… this is cupid calling 

Y/N: y’know..  I knew giving you my number was a bad idea 

Jungkook: oh c’mon don’t be like that, now that we’re friends you should definitely start warming up to me

Her reply takes a little longer but Jungkook isn’t worried.  Despite what she feels towards him, Y/N thinks her only way to Jimin’s heart is through Jungkook.  So she’ll just have to put up with it.

Y/N: I just puked in my mouth at the thought of warming up anywhere close to you.  Gross

Jungkook smiles at her response.

Jungkook: I think you like me more than you're willing to admit.  Anyway we need to get on with our…. Agreement.  Want to come round this evening to discuss arrangements?  I’ll even throw in some pizza and beer.

Y/N: I only like hawaiian.

Jungkook: Disgusting.  You and Namjoon will get on fantastically then.  Alright hawaiian it is. 

He sends her his address and when she replies with the puking emoji he laughs despite himself.

Maybe she’s not all that bad.

//

“Pineapple on pizza is a cardinal sin.” Y/N glares at Jungkook as she tucks into her third slice, “Why are you hating?”

“I just - I don’t get it.”

Y/N had arrived at his apartment earlier that evening with a six pack of beer in what Jungkook had assumed was a begrudging olive branch.  The two of them had spent the last hour discussing the delicate intricacies of mario kart, and Jungkook had found himself enjoying her company more and more.

He hated to admit it but she was kind of cool.

Only kind of, though.

“You don’t get it because your taste buds are subpar,” She moves her mouth into a small smile and Jungkook almost gasps at the gesture, “Hawaiian is the only acceptable way to eat pizza.  Period.”

“Y’know you look much cuter when you smile,” He quips, watching as she chokes on the last piece of crust, “You should do it more often.” Her eyes narrow into a glare, “I smile at people who bother to remember my name.”

“I thought you’d forgiven me for that.  I’m helping you out with Jimin aren’t I?”

Y/N laughs - and Jungkook is surprised at the warmth in her tone, “At a price.  Or are you forgetting I’m setting you up with Soomi?”

“Which reminds me,” He scoots closer towards her, pushing the pizza box out of the way, “What’s our plan of action?” Y/N seems to pause for a moment, her eyes flicking nervously across his face as she tucks some of her hair behind her ear.  Jungkook doesn’t comment on her sudden shift in behaviour, but he notices it. 

Man.  Girls are weird.

“I thought maybe… You could come over one night, to watch a movie or whatever.  And you could ask Taehyung and Jimin to join, too.”

Jungkook nods emphatically, “That’s a good plan.  Something intimate to really plant those seeds of love.”

Y/N laughs again and he notices the crinkles at the sides of her eyes when she does so.  Weird.  Why hasn’t he seen those before?  Admittedly… It’s kind of adorable.

“Plant those seeds of love,” She pulls a face, “You really are a wordsmith, Jeon Jungkook.” 

“Is it any wonder when my major is English lit?”

“Me too,” She cocks her head to one side, hair falling out from behind her ears, “Makes sense why you’re in most of my classes.”

Jungkook feels kind of (very) guilty as memories of their morning together are brought back.

“I really do feel like shit for not remembering you.”  He rubs the back of his neck in that universal boy sign for awkwardness, and clicks his tongue, “I wish I had.”

She shrugs, her eyes darkening a moment as she looks away, “It’s alright.  I’m kind of used to it to be honest.  Always been more of a... Background kind of person.” 

Jungkook clucks, like a mother hen disappointed at her chicks, “Hey don’t say that about yourself.”

When Y/N moves her eyes to meet with his own again, Jungkook notices she doesn’t seem angry or bitter.   Just resigned.

“But it’s true,” She licks her bottom lip and smiles almost sadly, “Soomi’s always been the centre of attention everywhere we go.  And I’ve known her… Forever, really.  So it makes sense.  Someone always has to take the back seat.  I don’t mind it.  Suits me just fine.”

Now Jungkook really feels like an asshole.  When she was prickly, it was easy to shove everything under the carpet, and pretend that not knowing her name wasn’t sort of horrible.

But now she was being nice, it made everything a hundred times worse.

“I’m sorry Y/N.  Really.”  

She meets his gaze again and smiles - this time a little lighter, “Don’t worry about it.  Now you know who I am… And you’ll never forget it.  Not least because I’m the love of your life’s best friend.”

Jungkook feels kind of awful right now, but he knows that apologising again will probably only annoy her.  He tucks his guilt somewhere into the back of his mind and smiles widely, trying to ease the mood.

“Right.  And I’m the person who is going to help you snag the man of your dreams!” 

She laughs at that, taking a final chug of her beer before setting the empty bottle to one side.

“Park Jimin here I come!”

“You’ve got a one way ticket to Bonetown and Jimin is flying first class!”

She laughs louder, this time snorting, “That makes no sense, but I’ll take it.”

They spend the rest of the evening hanging out in a way that feels strangely familiar, and it’s only when Y/N’s head begins to lull to one side that Jungkook realises it’s past three am.  And as he orders her an uber home, and insists she takes the final slice of pizza for the journey home, Jungkook realises that Y/N is more than just kind of cute.

She’s kind of great.

//

Later on that week, as Jungkook fills Namjoon and Taehyung in on his progress with Y/N, the former seems less than impressed.

“This is only going to end badly.”  Namjoon shakes his head, “Haven’t you ever seen a romantic comedy?  Shit like this only ends in tears.”

Jungkook takes a swig from his beer and rolls his eyes, “Have you ever tried to be positive a single day in your life Namjoon?  Y/N agreed to help me.  It’s progress.”

“But you dragged me into it,” Taehyung seems unimpressed, “And I told you me and Jimin aren’t even that close.”

“Okay so I might have embellished slightly….”

“Slightly?  You called us the best of friends,” Taehyung groans at his friend’s stupidity, “I’m not sure Jimin even knows what major I’m taking.”

“This is the most Jungkook problem of all time,” Namjoon guffaws at the situation, “How the hell are you going to sort this out.” “Tae - I just need you to convince Jimin to come on one date.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “I don’t know him that well, Kook.  What exactly am I supposed to say?” 

“I don’t know but you once convinced your mom those nudes of you that got leaked senior year of high school were actually for an art project,” Jungkook pleads with his friend, “I know  you can do this.” Taehyung laughs at the memory and pulls a face, “If he says no though, there’s not much else I can do.” “Fine.  But at least try.”

Jungkook knows that the universe is working in his favour.  It has to be.  The moment he laid eyes on Soomi he knew he’d never be happy again without her.

“Alright Kook I’ll try.  But I’m not making any promises.” Jungkook grins, “You’re the best.”

“I know I am,” He leans further back into the couch and grabs a slice of the pizza Namjoon ordered, surreptitiously picking off the pineapple, “Now what are you going to do about Y/N?” Jungkook raises a brow, “What do you mean?” “Well you described her as a she-demon,” Namjoon snorts, choking on some of his beer, “How exactly is that going to seduce Jimin?” “Remember everyone loves him,” Taehyung tacks on - less than helpfully - his smirk growing, “She’s going to have to get in line.” “Everyone does not love Jimin.”

Taehyung scoffs, “You’re kidding right?  I once watched him turn down three girls in one night.”

“Yeah.  This girl from my psych class says he’s still heart broken from his ex,” Namjoon seems to be enjoying Jungkook’s predicament a little too much, “Says he won’t even give anyone a chance.”

Jungkook refuses to let his friends’ pessimism get in the way of his elation.  He’s one step closer to Soomi, and if Jimin thinks he can be the one to stand in his way he’s got another thing coming.

“I’ll make it work.”  He answers with more confidence than he necessarily feels, “Besides, Y/N’s not that bad.  In certain lights she might even be considered kind of… Cute.  She’s just a little...brash.”

“Could her brashness towards you be due to the fact you forgot her name after an evening of vigorous love making?”  Taehyung gives his friend a knowing look, “I mean that would probably even hurt you Jungkook.  And you’re the master of not giving a fuck.”

“I apologised.”  He says it like that should fix everything, but in the depths of his heart Jungkook knows forgetting her name was kind of (really) shitty, “Besides.  If I really do set her up with Jimin and this all works out perfectly she’ll have a lot to thank me for.  Might even forgive me.”

Taehyung laughs and Namjoon pulls a face.

“We live in hope.” “That we do Joon.” Jungkook grins, “That we do.”

//

[kiribaku-queen]

Hiii congratulation for 1000 followers! U deserve it! So i was thinking of bakugou!prohero a reader where he's always busy and always hv this photoshoot with these hot models or hot pro hero that made reader feel left out. And the last straw was when a newly magazine publish of him kissing other girls cheek (or mouth) (u do u;)) and thats when they had a bad fight that caused reader to run away. I would like it to be heavy angst with a happy ending. I love angst but after a heavy angst i like a happy ending to soothe my heart 😂 if u do choose this, gudluck!

Blinded by the Fame

Angst

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: Thank you so so much for this request! I was actually so excited to do this piece because I already had an idea I wanted to use and this scenario was PERFECTO~! So painful yet so good!

Thank you for the congratulations and I hope this request met your needs! Please let me know your thoughts!

Who said dating an upcoming hero was going to be easy? It certainly wasn’t easy, not in the slightest. You definitely had hard days. There were times when it got so difficult that you wanted to quit. But was loving the hero worth it and fulfilling? Absolutely.

Bakugou Katsuki was the love of your life. Relationships were never easy. Couples always have obstacles and challenges they have to overcome. Even when you were in tears, screaming at each other at the top of your lungs, even if you gave each other the cold shoulder the entire week, nothing could replace the warmth that was Bakugou’s arms. You would never much refuse his touch every tine, but that wouldn’t stop Bakugou from having you in his arms every night, whispering sweet nothings in your ears despite all the things he said prior. And you would forgive him. Of course you would. How could you not?

But being with a rising hero came with bearing a lot of burden that you had to keep to yourself. You didn’t like how he was working all the time. You didn’t like how he came home bruised up, sometimes not even going to the hospital if it means not being able to see you for the night. You couldn’t bare seeing him like that. But that was part of his job and that was never going to change. So no matter how much you absolutely hated the sight, you let him do his hero work because that was what he loved to do. You couldn’t interfere with his dreams of becoming the number one hero.

But the thing that itched you the most was when Bakugou was forced to promotional shoots to get his name out there. The memory of when he first started made you laugh. Being the Bakugou that he was, he flat-out refused to do it. He didn’t like getting his picture taken. He’ll dress up once in a while, and when he does it’s real clean, but he wasn’t a fan of constantly dressing up. But when he finally let go and tried it once, he saw how much fan votes and popularity he was getting and eventually, would do more here and there.

And you didn’t mind if the shoots were by himself, but most of the time, they were with other pro-heroes or very attractive models. And that you feel insecure. How could it not? Your boyfriend getting close to other women while you looked nothing like these women? You didn’t have the body, the face, the money, or the fame these women brought to the table. You would never admit it, but you hated when other women were in the picture. And you hated when one of the women would be touching him. It left a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach. You were so sure that he was going to leave you for one of them. But he proved his love by dropping down on one knee with the most gorgeous ring.

“Come with me to the shoot,” Bakugou proposed but you hesitated.

“I can just meet you at the restaurant,” you decided. The mention of being on set for one of his photoshoots seemed like a bad idea.

“I want to go together. It won’t even take long. One hour tops,” he swore and brought you by the waist, your body flushed against him. He takes your face in his hands and gently puts your foreheads together.

“I know you’ve been wanting to go to this restaurant forever. Let’s go together,” he whispers and you couldn’t help but fall for that voice over and over again.

“Okay,” you whispered back. He smiles at you, places a small kiss to your forehead, then your lips, before taking your hand to lead you to the car.

The set of the shoot was intimidating. People were running around everywhere, cameras were set in all positions, lights were blinding and hot, the space just looked so busy. And you felt like you didn’t belong. But Bakugou was so used to this kind of scene. He leads you to where the photographer and the director were talking.

“Ah, Pro-Hero Dynamite, you made it!” the director greeted your boyfriend. “Your stylist is in the next room. Go ahead and get changed and we’ll get started.” Bakugou nodded and turned to you.

“I’ll be right back,” Bakugou said and kissed you on the forehead. You watched as your boyfriend disappeared in the sea of people and then you were left all alone.

This was fine. You would just wait in the back patiently for him to be done. And then you two could enjoy a nice evening out at that fancy restaurant you’ve always been wanting to try. Just relax. You closed your eyes and took deep, but slow breaths. There was nothing to get worked up over. Afterall, it looked like Bakugou was doing this shoot by himself.

But you spoke too soon. Bakugou had appeared from the dressing room, looking all dashing and handsome. You felt your heart skip again. He was wearing a red shirt that was unbuttoned to the third button, exposing his broad and muscular chest. Over, he wore a black jacket with leather gloves and pants. His hair was styled slightly back, forehead showing. He was mesmerizing to look at. But shortly after his appearance, two women walked out behind him. Two gorgeous, fit, and slim women who wore skin tight, elegant dresses were doing the shoot with him. And for some reason, your heart began to hurt. The pang in your heart was constant that you had to beat at your chest to calm yourself down.

They were beautiful. And you had recognized one of the women: Pro-hero Miruko. You knew their history together. Bakugou had worked under Miruko during his school days and eventually worked along side with her after he graduated. You knew she was a flirt. She flirted with everybody. And that was fine, until she got alittle too touchy with your boyfriend. And that bothered you. But Bakugou was so used to her behavior that he didn’t even notice.

You couldn’t say anything. They are old time friends and co-workers. What? Are you supposed to say that he can’t be friends with her anymore just because you didn’t like it? And then you would look like the possessive girlfriend? You were fine with him being friends with other women, but they did make you nervous. Nervous because all the women he’s surrounded by are so unbelievably good looking, it put you to shame. Why would he want to be with you when he could have all these women to choose from?

But you tried to shake these negative thoughts away and playfully tugged at the ring on your ringer. There was a reason why he chose you. There was a reason why he gave you this ring. You shouldn’t think this way. But you couldn’t help it. You tried not to let it bother you, but in the end, it did. It really did. It bothered you so much that you couldn’t stop fidgeting.

You watched at Bakugou sat on the couch with both women on each side of him. His arms were lounging on the back of the couch while one girl sat next to him and Miruko stood behind him. Looking at his facial expressions, he didn’t seem interested in any of the girls. Which is a good sign?

And so the shoot started. Nothing else could be heard besides music playing in the background and the loud click of the camera. Everyone else was watching the shoot take place. Everything looked okay so far. Their outfits were scandalous but nothing scandalous was happening. The only directions the models were given was to look sexily at the camera. Bakugou delivered that perfectly with his go-to signature look. But now the photographer wanted more.

“Can the two women get a little closer, please?” the photographer asked and put his camera up to his face once more. The girls did what they were told and Bakugou didn’t even flinch. But you were growing nervous. There was more skin happening, more touching and it was making you uncomfortable. You gasped when you saw Miruko grab Bakugou by his chin to lift to towards her direction. Then she leans in, her lips ghosting over his ever so slightly, like they were about to kiss. Tears were spilling out and your cheeks heated up in anger until you finally exploded.

“Stop!” you yelled, stopping all production. Heads from all around turned to you. Mirko looked at you shocked and Bakugou was wide eyed with curiosity and concern. You gripped the handle of the purse that was slung around your shoulder, feeling anxious now that everyone was looking at you.

“Sorry, give me one moment,” Bakugou apologized to the staff. He got up, rushing towards you. He takes your hand and brings you in the dressing room. The door slammed shut and Bakugou turns to you in a huff.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed. With tears streaming down your face, you were shocked by his reaction. But you were going to stand your ground.

“I don’t like how she was touching you,” you say.

“It’s my job,” he sighs in exasperation.

“Well she should learn her boundaries, whether it’s a job or not. And if you respected me at all, you would tell her no,” you stated firmly. But all Bakugou did was roll his eyes.

“You’re overreacting.” You scoff and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m overreacting? Is it wrong that I don’t like when other women are touching you?” you started to raise your voice and talk back.

“Do I have to say it again? It’s my job. If I’m going to make it big, I have to do it. What? You think I like her? You think I was going to let her kiss me? It’s just for the pictures. Geez, how sensitive can you get?” he stabbed you right in a sensitive topic. You stayed silent because you weren’t expecting him to say that. The moment you think he’s going to stop there, he keeps going.

“I might need to save lots of women who are in danger. What? You don’t want me touching them? You’re going to get jealous because I’ll have some stranger in my arms? You’re afraid that she’s going to cling to me for dear life because I’m saving her? You don’t like that?!” he was practically screaming now.

“No! I don’t like that!” you screamed right back, giving back the same amount of energy. The tension in the air was so thick, anyone could feel it. Hell, they were all listening from outside and they felt uncomfortable with the ambiance of the situation. Both parties’ chests were heaving up and down from the labored breathing. And you just glared at each other. Bakugou turns away from you, breaking the ice.

“Fine. If you’re going to be this jealous, then maybe… maybe we shouldn’t be together,” he said. That was it. That was when your heart broke into a million pieces. You felt like if you stood there any longer, you would have suffocated.

“Fine,” you whisper. He doesn’t even spare you a glance. With teary eyes and a heavy heart, you tighten your jaw as you take off your engagement ring, wiggling it off your finger and then setting it down on the counter beside you. The sound of the metal hitting the hard desk was loud enough for Bakugou to hear, but he still chose not to turn to you. You thought that maybe, just maybe, if he turned around and said he didn’t mean it, then you would have been okay. You would have forgave him for those mean things he said. And then you would have apologized to him. But he looked set on his decision.

Without another word, you turned around and sped out of that building, tears never stopping. Everyone saw you go. Miruko laid her sad eyes on you and her broke for you. Shortly after, Bakugou walks back to the couch, plopping down with a huff.

“Let’s continue,” he says begrudgingly. But nobody moves, still shell-shocked about yousr argument. But this causes Bakugou to explode.

“Are you not going to start? Let’s get on with it!!” he hollers and everyone rushes like mice to get back to production. Bakugou lets out a long sigh, face in a permanent frown.

Miruko sits on the back of the couch and looks down at her old friend. She could tell that he was hurting just as much as you, if not more.

“Idiot~” Miruko sang.

“Ha?” Bakugou glared up at his past mentor. Mirko looked at her nails, not paying mind to the hot head who was on the verge of exploding.

“You need to go apologize,” she told him, more like ordered him to.

“Like it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t take her feelings into consideration,” Miruko pointed out, silencing Bakugou on the spot. “If she was feeling a little jealous, then her feelings are totally valid. You need to do something about it and make her feel like she doesn’t need to worry about anything.” Bakugou was only getting more annoyed.

“Whatever. It’s just business. If she can’t understand that, then we don’t need to be together,” he tried to convince himself. But that only hurt himself more.

“Whatever my ass. Then if you can’t be a good boyfriend and comfort her instead of making her feel insecure, then she doesn’t need you. She can find a better man who treats her good.”

“I do treat her good,” Right?

“Oh yes, I can tell,” Miruko said sarcastically. But in all seriousness, she knew he was hurting and she was trying to give advice from a woman’s perspective, but he is so stubborn and hard-headed that he doesn’t want to admit that he was in the wrong.

“Look, you let her go home like that right now, you’re not going to get her back. Go after her,” she advices on a serious note. Bakugou takes a moment to think but it’s all too much. He ruffles his hair and shoots up from the couch.

“Fuck this shit. I’m not doing this anymore,” he announces and storms out of the building. But not before shoving the metal jewelry in his pant pocket.

You didn’t know where you were going. You just walked and walked until you wind up somewhere. And god, you were so hungry. But you couldn’t go to that fancy restaurant that Bakugou had already made reservations for. God forbid he walks in while you were eating. And with another woman? How embarrassing. You couldn’t use his name or his fame anymore. You didn’t want to go back home. What if he shows up at your place? It probably wasn’t likely. He said he was done with you. You left the ring back with him. You guys were over. He wouldn’t show up uninvited. He has no reason to. You didn’t have money on you. You didn’t have any mode of transportation. The only think you had was your phone but the battery can only last so long. So you continued on walking until you hit a park and sat down on one of the benches. You were left alone to bathe in your thoughts until the set sun.

“Where the fuck did she go?” Bakugou mumbled to himself. He checked all the alleyways, in between streets, high and low, but he couldn’t spot you. No matter how he was frustrated he was feeling, he started to get nervous. He wondered if you were okay and safe right now. You hadn’t eaten all day. Wait. There’s no way…

“Hi. Reservation for 2. Under Bakugou,” Bakugou told the hostess. He arrived at the restaurant, in hopes that you came in. But when the hostess said that you hadn’t shown up, his shoulders deflated. Back to square one. So if you weren’t here, then where were you? Had you eaten yet?

Trying his luck, he went to your apartment, but after many attempts, you didn’t open the door. You could either by ignoring him or you weren’t home yet. Knowing you, you probably weren’t home. Then he was going to wait until you came home. Taking a seat next to your door, Bakugou waited. And he was going to wait until he could see your face.

You watched as happy couples and families walked by you, having the time of their lives. You smiled sadly seeing all their smiles and laughter. How you wish you could be like that. But now you don’t even know if or when that was going to be possible. That was all you wanted. Was to be happy. You didn’t want to be in this rabbit hole of sadness. You didn’t want anybody to pity you just because you were crying. But you did long for somebody to listen to you. For somebody to tell you that it was going to be okay and that you are loved. Love… You wanted someone to love you. He just wasn’t the one for you. Then who is? Will you ever find it? Was this your only chance and you ruined it all just because you couldn’t help but feel jealous?

Stupid.

Stupid (y/n).

You always ruin everything in your life. The one time you got something good, it’s gone in an instant. You knew it was too good to be true. But there’s no going back now. It already happened and now you have to move on.

By the time you noticed, the sun had already set and darkness fell upon you. You wanted to stay longer. You debated whether or not you were going to sleep on the park bench. But after recalling new articles of kidnappings happening around the country recently, you decided to go home.

It took you a while to go home. You walked as slow as you could, taking your sweet time returning back to your apartment. All you want to do is snuggle up in bed and go to sleep. You were so exhausted. Mentally, physically and emotionally. You just needed some rest and then you can worry more in the morning. You were coming up to your apartment and saw a person sitting on the floor what looked like in front of your apartment door. No. But there’s no way.

Blonde hair.

That was all it took for you to turn back, go down those stairs and back to the park. You couldn’t face him right now. You were already broken up so why was he there? He said all he needed to say so why was he there?

You thought you were being sneaky but Bakugou caught you. He saw you going back down those stairs and he immediately got up and chased after you.

“(y/n)!” he called out to you but you ignored him. The sound of his voice made your heart clench.

“(y/n)!” he called again, but louder. Again, you continued to ignore him.

“(y/n)!” he called for the last time, this time grabbing your arm. But you shook him as fast as he grabbed you.

“No, leave me alone,” you managed to say. Just keep on walking. Maybe if you walk long and far enough, he’ll give up. But he wasn’t giving up.

“(y/n), stop!” he grabbed you again, yet this time tighter so you couldn’t escape. Then he traps you in between him and the wall, forcing you to face him.

“Stop! Let me go! Leave me alone!” you cry. Your tear stained face and puffy eyes broke Bakugou’s heart. He did this to you. Fuck. He was the worst. You thrashed around, forcing him to let go, hitting him to push him away. Anything so he could get away from you.

Bakugou let you hit him. He deserved it. Every hit that you take at him, he deserved. Slowly but surely, he pulled you in for a hug. You were so drained that you let him. And as soon as you were in his embrace and your cheek hit his chest, you cried. You let it all out and didn’t stop. Bakugou didn’t say anything. He just held you, patting your head until you calmed down.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He kissed the top of your head and rested his head there. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He continued to say. Your cries were muffled by being buried in his chest.

You held onto him tight, continuing to cry your heart out. You thought you were never going to see him again. You thought you were never going to hold him again. Or smell him. You world was crashing down on you but was slowly being put together again.

“Do you want to go inside?” he asks you softly. Your voice was too hoarse and sore from all the crying, so you nodded your head, not letting go of him. Bakugou got the hint and picked you up princess style and led you into the house. There was going to be a lot of talking happening soon in that tiny apartment. It was going to be a long night.

[widow-maximov]

i don’t know if anyone requested this but i can’t find a fanfiction where it’s the aftermath of what happened to natasha and wanda being happy her girlfriend is back, but sad that she and the reader lost their other girlfriend. i hope that made sense… an angsty wandanat basically lol.

I will be more than happy to do the aftermath of Natasha death and their way of processing. You also didn't specify whether it should be sad ending or happy so I gave a happy ending?

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

I'm sorry...

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha x Reader

Warning: Language, some fluff and a lot of angst.  enjoy :3

Summary: Y/n is finally happy with her 2 girlfriends; Natasha and Wanda but it seems as if the universe has different plans for Y/n.

Word count: 3.7k

⸻⸻⋙☸🗲⋘⸻⸻

Present

"How is that my fault?" You asked, taking a few steps away from Wanda.

She stared at you with anger "It's all your fault Y/n.. and you know it"

You didn't recognise the woman in front of you, the woman who you loved with every piece of you, the pain in your heart was worse than any injury you ever had experience and that says a lot..

6 years ago

Everything seems to be in place, you are cuddled into Natasha whilst Wanda is cuddled into you, you would've never thought that these two women would be even partly interested in you but you was wrong and now you are more than happy to be here with them.

It hasn't been long since the three of you have gotten together but it has been enough time to get really attached. It didn't take long for the three of you to sleep in one bed, to be fair it started right after you made it official. You didn't mind at all, you felt safe and that's all you really wanted.

You was trained by Natasha every morning which you hated as you always wanted to sleep in but at the same time you loved it... because like who doesn't want to be pinned down by the Black Widow?

Then eventually Wanda would join, you would be one step ahead of her and nearly being able to beat her when Natasha joined and again you ended up being on the floor with now two of them pinning you.

You definitely didn't mind, especially since they would shower you with kisses, they would tease you at how they still ended up beating you, you would roll your eyes but still enjoy these little moments, it made your mornings a lot more better.

A thought struck you as your innocent smile turned into a smirk, currently it was team movie night, the three of you under one blanket, your hand that was resting on Natasha's chest, slowly slid down her stomach, causing her breath to hitch. The movie was boring and you wanted to mess with Natasha like she always messes with you and Wanda.

You faced Wanda and she saw your smirk, she already knew what you were doing as she read your mind and just smirked back, she put her hand under the blanket and used her powers to restrain Natasha from making sudden moves.

You turned to face Natasha again, your hand going underneath her shirt, she tried to move but she noticed the restrains and her face turned towards Wanda so quickly no one would even notice it was a movement, she gave Wanda a glare as she narrowed her eyes which just caused Wanda to smirk again.

Your gaze was on Natasha this whole time to watch her reaction, your hand lingered around her breasts but then progressively it moved down and closer towards her legs.

"What are you doing?" She whispered just enough so you and Wanda could hear.

"I want to go to our room" You ignored her question and looked into her eyes, you could see some sense of lust slowly consuming them.

She let out a shaky breath when your hand stopped so close where she wanted you to be "Wanda let me go" It was a demand which only fuel the two of you.

"Are we going to leave? Or you want us to fuck you right here next to them" That's all Natasha needed to hear, Wanda knew how to push Natasha's buttons.

"I think I'm going to head to bed" Natasha spoke a little to loudly, which attracted everyone's attention.

You smirked but innocently said "Oh really? Well we will join you then"

Just like that, Wanda let go of Natasha and you moved your hand, getting up together whilst Natasha almost jumped up and rushed out of the room.

You looked over at Wanda and then back at speeding off Nat "What's the rush babe? We were thinking about a snack before bed"

Nat stopped and turned around to face you as she walked over and grabbed your hand and Wanda's "No you're not"

She looked at the team "Goodnight!" and rushed away from them whilst you and Wanda laughed.

5 years ago

"Okay, here is the plan, we need to prevent Thanos from snapping his fingers, and take that stupid gauntlet" Tony instructed and everyone agreed.

Just before you was about to shoot off to help evacuate people, Wanda with Nat pulled you into a hug "Be safe Моя любовь (My love)"

You pulled away and looked at them with a soft expression "Of course, you two as well, Wands please protect Vision and Nat be by Wanda's side, I will be back as soon as I can"

They nodded and you gave them a kiss as they let you go, you ran towards the people who didn't know what to do, and they ran towards their place.

------

You ran towards Natasha, she was on the floor, she wasn't injured but she was on the floor, she looked at you with some relief in her eyes "Go find Wanda"

You nodded but before you ran, you quickly gave her a peck on the lips and ran to find her, as you saw her, on the floor by Vision you knew this is bad. You dropped on your knees and stared at her as she muttered "I failed"

You cupped her face "Wands baby, you didn't fail, its okay"

You pulled her into a hug and that's when you saw, some of your team turn into dust, you pulled away and looked at Wanda, that's when she slowly started to dust away.

You could feel your heart crack at the sight of relief in the witches eyes "NATASHA!"

You screamed to get the redheads attention, which did work, she ran in and at the sight of Wanda disappearing, she dropped to her knees as tears were threatening to spill.

"Wanda.. Please don't leave us.." You begged as if she could just stop dusting, and just like she was gone and you let out a heart wrecking sob, Natasha crawled towards you and pulled you into her.

3 months before

Everything has changed since the blip, the way Natasha would constantly just throw herself into work to somehow find a way to bring back half of the population and Wanda.

You tried your best to help her but it was exhausting, each time she would push you away and that only hurt you more, at the start there was hugging till you couldn't breath because she was afraid that you would disappear as well.

But that changed when something in her switched, you have been trying to find a solution for 5 years even if that was on the floor of your shared room, alone because Natasha has pushed you away so far, you didn't even know if there was a way back to her.

She walked inside the room and barely even looked at you, she just gathered her stuff which made you question her "What are you doing Natasha?"

She didn't answer, making you jump up from where you were and block the way out which forced her to say something "Move out of my way Y/n"

You nearly melted on the spot from hearing her voice again but you had to put a brave face up "Not until you tell me what you are doing?"

She sighed as she didn't let up "I said move"

"I'm not going to repeat myself again, you can do this the easy way or I will force you to move" She spoke with so much anger in her tone.

"Where are you going Natasha?" You asked again but this one you had a soft expression which you knew worked on Natasha.

"I'm not staying here, now move out of my way" She simply answered as if that was a normal thing to do.

She had dark bags under her eyes, from what you can assume was no sleep "So you're leaving me?"

She rolled her eyes "The world doesn't revolve around you Y/n. I need to find a solution to bring back these people, that's what we promised to do, we promised to protect them and we failed so now move"

And just like she pushed you and started to walk towards the door "You also promised to be by our side Natasha but I guess that doesn't matter to you anymore"

She stopped in her tracks as she turned to face you once more "You knew that promise was never going to work with this job, it wasn't real"

Tears streaming down your face as you looked away from her "It was real to me and definitely to Wanda. Shame you don't think that"

"You don't know what she would've said, because she isn't here!" She snapped causing you to flinch a little, she never raised her voice at you.

Her grip on the things she was holding tighten as she saw you flinch "Just don't get in my way again or you'll regret it"

Your eyes snapped to her face "Fuck you for treating me like shit. Fuck you for doing this to us. Fuck you for threatening me, just get out of this room!" You couldn't keep all these emotions inside you, you spent the last 5 years supporting her and that's what you get in return.

She rolled her eyes and walked out, not even trying to argue with you or pull you into her embrace and apologise for acting like a jerk, she just left, leaving you to cry.

1 month before

A broken heart isn't easy to deal with, but you thought you managed just well yet to the remaining team thought differently. You would mainly throw yourself into training, doing everything to keep your mind of the whole argument, it did work but not for long.

Natasha avoided you as well, that was until the opportunity for the solution finally knocked on the door, you all were somewhat relief at the thought of everyone being back.

You walked in as Tony with some guy explained how its possible to bring everyone back, turns out its the ant man who was stuck in the Quantum Realm and he explained how it's possible to time travel. You was a little concerned but you was pulled out of it as Natasha stood next to you, you swallowed down the bubbling tears as your senses were invaded by Natasha so you naturally just moved away.

It did cause some stares to be thrown your way but you didn't care, you knew if you stood there, you would break down and it wasn't that easy to keep it inside you.

"Okay.. Okay, I will build the machine but only for the stones, nothing else. Until then everyone just prepare yourself" Tony agreed eventually and dismissed everyone.

------

"Okay, Y/n and Natasha will go to Vormir and take the soul stone-"

"Can I not just go into the field or something?" You interrupted him, caused Natasha to sigh in disbelief.

"Are you serious right now?" She spoke up from behind you.

You looked over your shoulder not really caring "Yeah, now can she go with Clint or something?"

Tony rolled his eyes and just agreed with you this way the two of you wouldn't fight "Okay, fine Natasha and Clint will go, and you, Y/n will come with me"

You nodded and when Tony dismissed everyone, you walked towards the kitchen to finally eat something before going to suit up and go with Tony, but you was followed.

You knew you was followed but you simply didn't care, only when you didn't except it to be Natasha behind you "Y/n can we talk?"

You froze in place as she moved a little closed to you, you faced her and it seems as if your brain had malfunctioned at the sight of Natasha.

"I'm sorry Y/n, for being such a jackass to you. For treating you like you didn't matter. I love you and I'm really sorry" She took your silence as the opportunity to talk before you could.

"Are you kidding?" Now you spoke with disbelief.

She looked at you a little taken back which caused a "what?" to come out of her mouth.

"What do you mean what? It took you 5 years to understand how you treated me? Having time travel introduced suddenly makes it okay for you to think I will open my arms and say 'Aww baby! I have been waiting for you!'"

She shook her head "Of course it isn't okay.. I just wanted you to hear me actually say sorry, you at least deserve that. I'm really sorry Y/n and I love you so much" Her voice cracked at the end with tears in her eyes.

Looking at her so broken, it hurts you more than her leaving you. Tears in your eyes, you rush to her and embrace her in a tight warm hug, as the both of you cried quietly "I love you too Tasha"

Her heart melted at the nickname she haven't heard in so long, she pulled away and placed her forehead against yours, her eyes closed as another set of tears roll down her face, she tilted her head and kissed you, tasting your tears and her own but she didn't care.

She pulled away and whispered "I'll see you in a minute" with a small sad smile.

You smiled and let her go as you nodded, she walked off and you went to Tony after eating and suiting up.

--------

Everything seemed to work out, you had the stones and that's when you saw Clint with the last stone, you ran to him to take it and the only question you could ask is "Where is Natasha?"

He was about to answer when Tony called out to you and you had to ran to him but not before your eyes scanned around you to locate the redhead, when you failed you frowned but tried not to think so much about it, so you ran towards Tony and gave him the stones, Thanos tried his best to take it back and snap again but it didn't work because you guys were one step ahead of him, the gauntlet ended up with Bruce and he snapped his fingers even if he was in so much pain.

You turned around to see multiple portals open up and half of the population appearing again, your eyes scanned for Wanda and you caught glimpse of red, you knew it was her, you ran towards her and threw yourself at her.

"Oh my god, it's you.." You said with a shaky breath, not believing your eyes.

She hugged you back with the same affection and a kiss that was so passionate it made her head spin but soon parted to continue the fight but after watching Thanos turn to dust, you were in her arms again with more happiness than you felt during the 5 years.

Clint approached the two of you and with a sad smile and tears in his eyes "I'm so sorry"

You pulled away from the hug a little as you looked at him confused but it clicked in the instant "Where is she?!"

"What are you talking about?" Wanda asked confusion in her tone.

"The way to get the stone.. One of us had to sacrifice ourselves, it was suppose to be me but she was stubborn and she jumped"

You felt as if your heart stopped, your eyes widen at his words, Wanda's grip tighten around you as you felt anger build up in you "What do you mean she jumped?!"

Before he could even say anything, you repeated yourself "What do you mean she FUCKING JUMPED?!"

You ran your hands through your hair as you let out a shaky breath and Wanda pulled you into her, doing her thing that always calm you down, no words left her as she was shocked as well, so you stood there in her embrace, letting out a sob, similar to the one 5 years ago.

Present

There you are standing in front of Wanda as her words are laced with venom, the history repeating itself but this time with Wanda "Wands I know you don't mean what you're saying.. Don't do the same thing Natasha did to me-"

She interrupted you "She at least did the right thing, gosh it was such a mistake, all of this."

Your vision started to get clouded with tears at her words "That's not my fault that she jumped, I didn't force her-"

"YOU COULD'VE STOPPED HER Y/n!" She snapped at you, she was the calmest person you could've met but yet she changed so much in a course of a month.

"Like I could've stopped you from being dusted? I lost both of you! Not at the same time but yet it feels like it, she left me and now you're doing the same, there was nothing I could've done, you know how stubborn she is-" You tried to get your point across but she was just too angry to even listen.

"You was the last to see her and I never did so imagine how that feels... Just leave Y/n" She looked away with tears in her eyes but she held herself a little bit better than you.

You chuckled dryly as you wiped your face "You know, you are right, I could've stopped her, by being in her place instead, I'm sorry that it wasn't me but her"

She turned around to face you but you already walked out, the witch leaned on the wall as she covered her mouth to muffle a sob.

6 months later

You moved out of the compound after finding out that Tony had a spare cabin in the woods, he was more than happy to give it to you after finding out what have happened, you thanked him and gotten out of that compound, away from Wanda and everything that reminded you how much you have failed to keep the two people you loved the most.

You heard from Bucky that Wanda gotten engaged to Vision, you'll never understand how that walking air fryer has any capability to have any feelings, but if it took Wanda so fast to move on, why couldn't you?

You moved into a cabin that's only surrounded by trees so no one could hear you screaming at night with anger. You asked Tony to not tell anyone where you were, not that anyone actually cared to ask but he agreed.

You do visit Natasha's grave, place some flowers from time to time, and each time light a candle to let her know that you are always there even if she wasn't most of the time.

Right now you are sitting on the sofa as night falls, there was some noises outside which pulled your attention from the tv, you grabbed your gun and slowly walked towards the door, you opened it and pointed it ahead of you.

The person on the end of the gun wasn't someone you would expect "What are you doing here?" You lowered your gun.

The witch stood there with her hands up and a small smile "I'm here to talk"

You sighed and crossed your arms, you did your crying for the past 6 months till no tears came out, so you just stood there "What is there to talk about?"

"Can I?" She asked as she pointed to the inside of the cabin, it was warm inside but the outside was freezing so you agreed and let her in.

"How did you find me?" You asked still with your arms crossed.

"I might or might not have threatened Tony... because this is important" She confessed.

"If you are here to argue again then leave, I don't need this again-" You tried to sound with no emotions but the way you dropped your arms and just sighed gave it away you were still very hurt.

"I'm not here to argue, I'm here to apologise for what I have said, it wasn't okay, and I'm so sorry. I know you couldn't have done anything and I never blamed you Y/n, no one deserved to die the way she did, I was just angry with how I never saw her and you did and jealously is very ugly"

You shook your head "Wanda this won't fix anything, I lost the two of you, I saw you disappear in front of my eyes, she left me after that to try to bring you back along with the rest of the population, and then she died so you could be here and when I needed you the most, you did the exact thing"

"I know Y/n/n I know, I'm so sorry and I will do everything to try to be better for you, I want to be here for you because honestly I need you as well. I never stopped loving you" She was nervously playing with her rings on her fingers as tears filled her eyes.

"Wanda you are with Vision, you are practically married. Please stop I can't handle anymore pain" You admitted to her because frankly you couldn't, no matter how many times you tried to get over Wanda you couldn't. You learned how to accept that Natasha will never be back but It was still hard to be with someone apart the two of them.

"I left him, I can't be with him if its you I think about before falling asleep Y/n. So please let me make it up to you, if that's what you want or look me in the eyes and tell me that this is the end" Her breathing was unsteady by the end as she let her tears flow down her face.

You looked at her and into her eyes, you could tell her breath hitched just at you looking at her, your walls crumbled apart as you let your tears out and shake your head slowly "Okay but you best believe this wont be easy"

For the first time in so long, you saw a genuine smile on her face as she walked up to you and took you into her arms as she softly stated "I know... And I'm prepared for everything. I promise to never leave you again or hurt you.. I love you"

You sighed as you cried in her arms "I love you too дорогой (Sweetheart)"

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ok prompt! Sy is teaching you how to cook and maybe things get frisky ? 😁

Oooo I like this. Its not 100% on the nose but this is where the muse took me.

Did you want a novel? Because, I hope you like novels.

Warnings: chili with beans, sweet cornbread, swearing, smut

"Listen hear, you chicken fried fuck. If you don't like my cooking, you are welcome to eat something else at the damn pot luck!" I snap at a grumpy retired soldier who was talking trash about my chili recipe. Like always. Whenever we have a party, he has to say something about how I'm dressed, what I brought, or the beer I was drinking.

"All I'm saying here, California, is that where I'm from we don't put beans in our chili. And don't get me started on this abomination you call cornbread. Why is it sweet, why are there vegetables in my bread?" He says in his drawl.

"Because honey and roasted jalapenos taste good together!"

"I guess. You don't need to fuss so much Princess, I'll gladly show you how to make real Texan food. Make some wife material out of you." He smirked. I think he knew he was getting under my skin.

"Come on, Sy, give her a break. Take a bite of her cornbread with the chili, they are delicious together." One of our mutual friends told him when he could see that I was not having any more of his attitude.

I walked away from the conversation, feeling incredibly salty. The man was Syverson, we had been in the same group of friends for the past couple years and honestly he was usually at least cordial with me, but the sheer audacity of his tone today. The rest of the party was really fun, at least. Occasionally, I would catch eyes the color of the ocean after a storm staring me down. He kept looking like he wanted to say something to me but I would find reasons to leave the room. Fortunately there was always a way to get out and around.

Towards the end of the evening, I go outside to enjoy the cooling air and watch the stars, listen to a couple of the guys from inside sit on the tailgate of a truck and talk about football or something. The breeze would kick up occasionally and I could smell an orange tree blooming in the distance.

"Hey, oh shit, I didn't mean to startle you." I jumped damn near out of my skin when the grump showed up out of nowhere. "I actually really wanted to say that I'm sorry, I can be a real asshole sometimes. You are usually more aware of it than others. I'm used to giving people a hard time. Your food was delicious. I just don't know how to talk to you sometimes."

I looked at the large man skeptically. I'm not used to people going from snarky to nice to me. "Thank you for apologizing. Glad you liked it, Chicken Fried. You can just talk to me like anyone else, I don't mind some teasing, but you just know how to push my buttons."

Sy looked at his feet for a moment. "I will be nicer to you, I promise."

"I'm sure." I had heard that before.

"I still think mines better," back to sounding arrogant already, "I am willing to bet that it would blow your mind."

"Do you really want to bet?"

"Yeah... sure. I'll bet you. If my chili it better than yours.... you have to go on a date with me."

"Is that how you get most of your dates these days? Tinder just isn't cutting it anymore?" I tease. He is actually kind of good looking. Sort of. If you are into that hand crafted by the gods kind of look. I'm not saying I am, but I could get the appeal.

"You'd be surprised. Most of the women I meet want to figure out what's wrong with me. Almost 40, never married, I have a job I like. They keep waiting for my skeletons to come out of the closet. Like shit, girl, I just don't like olives or sweet relish. I think I'm pretty cool otherwise." He said talking with his hands out stretched. I think he might have been being earnest with me, but his tone is almost always sarcastic.

"You were in the military, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's what's wrong with you." The big man started laughing harder than I thought he would.

"Well, California. You up for it?"

"I don't know Chicken Fried, I don't like dating, I would really just like something casual, low maintenance. What happens when I win?"

"When?" He chuckles. "If you are looking for something casual and low maintenance, baby, there is a reason when I was still in the Army they called me Captain Cunnilingus."

"It sounds like either way you win." I smirk, "I would need a real incentive to try to beat you."

"How about bragging rights?"

"If I win... you shave your beard. Then I get to use your face as a chair." He looked shocked.

"Fine, when I win, you have to wear a dress on our date, and heels. Maybe even some of that shit you all put on your lips with the glitter and fruity flavors."

"Ok, now that's unreasonable. I don't even own heels."

"I'll buy you some." Well color me impressed. We decide on the terms of the bet. We would invite a couple of friends over to his place next Sunday and they would pick a winner with a blind taste test. We would also have one canned chili and one restaurant chili to make it a little more interesting.

Sunday came, and we all gathered in his house. This was the best batch of chili I have ever made. Fresh peppers, bacon, beer and some good quality beef all swam together in a symphony of flavors. When I walked into his house, the smell was... pungent. I could smell cooking vinegar. It wasn't bad but there was something just a little off putting.

"Glad you showed up, Princess." He looked me up and down. to surprise him just a little, I did show up in a dress. I figured a special occasion needed a special outfit.

I looked over at the big man as he took my slow cooker from my hands and plugged it in for me. To be fair to both of us, we had enough time to set up sides and toppings. I even baked more cornbread. Sy made his own savory cornbread that he pulled out of the oven in a cast iron skillet.

"It was my mama's." He told me when I asked about it.

"You bake also?"

"Sometimes, if the mood hits me. I like making peach cobbler too. If you are lucky, I'll make you some. Maybe after our date."

"So sure of yourself, Chicken Fried. I hope you got some good shaving cream and a new razor, you'll need it." In his kitchen, I lifted the hem of my sundress clear up to my naked hip showing him that I was ready to win this bet of ours. His pupils blew out with lust as he stepped up to me.

"Princess, you are a hell of a tease. I have wanted you so badly ever since the first time we met." He breathed, lusty and hot. He pinned me to the counter, radiating his desire. He bit his lip, looking me up and down, he looked like he wanted to kiss me or maybe consume me whole. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "We will have company soon. I need to walk this off, but I really do want to continue this conversation when we don't have to risk being interrupted."

Before anyone could walk in on us, Syverson rushed up to me and kissed me more passionately. My knees buckle for a second and its like I've been set on fire.

When our friends came into his house, he set up bowls, spoons, Fritos and cheese. He set up blind tastings for the guests, only he and I knew what everyone was eating.

The canned chili was a flop. The restaurant chili was a better batch but it wasn't as good. When our friends tasted my chili, they all keep saying how wonderful it was.

Then we tried Sy's. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the group started to try to figure out what it was about the chili that we didn't like. It was too sweet as far as I was concerned and there was a weird aftertaste. It was an overwhelming agreement that Sy's chili was terrible. After we cleaned up his kitchen, Sy was pouting about having lost.

"So, when would you like for me to shave my beard?"

"Maybe later tonight. I think we have to finish that conversation we started earlier."

"Oh yeah, California?" He said, standing close to me. He grabbed me by my hips and lifted me to the counter top. I lace my fingers through his beard hair and pull him closer so I can finally kiss him again. He broke away from the kiss and then started nibbling on my neck. His hand found the seem of my dress and he slid his hand up my thigh. When my skirt was pushed up to my hips exposing my sex to him, he leaned me back. I watched him look at my core and lick his lips like a man starved.

"Wait a second. Before you start, what was going on with your chili? Did you throw the bet?"

"No, not at all." He looked at me confused. "I don't know what happened, I've made this a bunch of times and its always been good. This was terrible."

"Did you do anything different?"

"Well. I was out of tomato paste, so I used ketchup. A buddy of mine suggested it."

"Oh my god, Sy. No wonder! Thank god you are pretty, my guy." I tease.

"Your guy? I like the way that sounds. Now lean back, Princess. I'm going to try to convince you to let me not shave."

[lovee-infected]

Hello! ♥ Can I request headcanons or oneshot (whichever is easier) about how the twst boys react when they discover that MC is a girl, because they thought MC was a pretty boy, someone like Epel, when an unexpected rain happens during flying class and they can see the silhouette of the breasts or the vibrantly colored bra under the wet T-shirt 👀

At some point they all go : “My expectations for you were low , but holy f ”

Riddle Rosehearts

Class 2 E had to take Riddle who crashed the ground from the 20 meter height to the nurse office afterwards

His pe grades were already horrifying and with those two tips of something he saw under your wet clothes , it isn't really strange to end up in bed

Thankfully he doesn't end up with a broken leg , but that seemed way better than having this broken sanity now : (y/n) is a girl...?

He gets red but not of any anger , instead embarrassment . He has been treating you too casually good lord , he is never the same with girls

Riddle doesn't talk to you for a few days because he now realizes how lame your relationship may seem ; many things he should have done , many things he shouldn't have done

Would things still be the same ? Well it has to be he , thought . After all you didn't ever hide anything or lie about your gender , it was his misunderstanding

Well now , maybe he wants to treat you a bit... softer ?

Trey Clover

He isn't terrified by the gender , he is terrified by the way he saw it : Wet clothes , squishy big things under your shirt with a visible color...

He sweats at even saying it by word he wasn't ; he wasn't expecting that at all

He tries to hide his blush but that doesn't really work ; everyone knows that Trey isn't one to blush easily

He decides that it's better to skip the class now ( His eyes need some fresh air) . Just a few hours away , and he seems to be already used to it

He has to admit that it's somehow creepy to see the guy who you always liked having around is actually a girl , but he decides to pretend that he already knew it

Male or female , you're the same to him . The lovely and adorable (y/n) you always were

But still , this got him thinking...does he need to treat you like a girl sometimes ? Stuff that just girls do , say or like ?

Cater Diamond

He... notices the big deal when he's taking a rainy day selfie with you . He is making sure that you both look good but suddenly his eyes lay at the sight of your chest through his phone...

His eyes grow wider and he doesn't notice when he presses the button : The sound of his phone's flash almost made him drop it

You ask if he's alright but Cater just gives you a nervous laugh and say that the phone just slipped for a second . He neither shows you the pic you just took nor agrees on taking a second one when you ask him to

He leaves in pretext of picking his umbrella up but instead , runs to a corner where you couldn't see him : He brings that selfie from his gallery and zooms on your chest . He wants to make sure of what he just saw

Which one's worse ? The neon pink bra under your T-shirt or the... clearly visible tip of your nipple under it ? Damn you are laying your breasts on his hand in the pic...

He quickly saves it though his private albums . On the second thought , he sends all pictures he had from you to that folder as well

Well , he'll get used to it right? Perhaps he can now flirt more comfortably with you knowing that you're actually a girl . The only important thing for him is too make sure that no one ever finds out about photos he has on that private folder ; the one he keeps specifically for you

Deuce Spade

"E-eh??" Remember what happened with Eliza ? This is the second version of it . Even during his rage days ( Wild yellow hair and random fights with others) he lacked the ability to even say hi to a girl . And here he is now spending all those days together without knowing that you were a girl !??

His whole personality almost cracks for a second . All those dirty stuff other first years had shared about girls flashes before his eyes . He wasn't damn prepared -

He couldn't be any more thankful that you couldn't see the horrifying scenes and sounds through his mind at the moment- He just leaves before you could even see him blush

Ace doesn't stop teasing him though , late at the night inside Heartslabyul's , Ace is walking on his nerves asking him to tell what's wrong . Ace isn't the only curious one ; soon all his classmates too keep asking Deuce to say what is bothering him

Deuce has decided to keep his mouth shut until he comes over this fact on his own , and he's strong on it . There's no way that he'd let anyone recognize his anxiety with women

He knows his friends better than this and doesn't want to be dared to steal your underwear or poke your breasts in another round of truth or dare

Let's just...hope that things will soon get better for him or , perhaps you can be his chance to overcome his lack of skills with women ?

Ace Trappola

"Holy sh-" He then gets fired from the pe class for his impolite usage of words- ( School rules , right ?) Not that he cares though

Comparing to Deuce , he's a lot better and more experienced especially because he has been in a relationship before... which is both good and bad

The last time he got this close to any girls before you was with his ex-girlfriend ; and to be honest even that relationship didn't brought them as close as you two are now . The thought of going through similar things with a new one even though he no longer thinks about his ex ... that kinda hurts

Maybe he would've died to tell Deuce what he found out if old memories didn't haunt him . He isn't an awkward realizing your gender like Deuce is , but he can tell that it's kinda hard for him to deal with it . Mostly because of how close and dear you are to him now...

He finally realizes that he doesn't deserve carrying the shame and anxiety on his own and tells Deuce ; well at least calming Deuce down will make him pay least attention to his own problems

Leona Kingscholar

He almost chokes- He was standing in the corner without a single drop of water on his hair while you got too wet as if you took a shower with your clothes on

He is teasing you likr always again until he realizes a second color under your white clothes ... no . please don't be

He prefers to imagine that you're a guy having the kink of wearing feminine underwear . He isn't ready to accept that you're a girl and he still denies it after seeing the vibrantly visible bra with his own two eyes

God...he teased you , kicked you , laughted you off and literally stepped on you ; that's what he usually likes to treat others so..? But not a lady , never . He is raised better this to end up neglecting a lady's great level and worth

Now considering how he's been teasing you so far , what did you think of him..? Do you consider him an asshole who has no respect for women due to how he treated you ??

He is really stressed out and doesn't know what to do , he just takes off his own jacket and quickly comes to you , wrapping it around your wet body and hair and taking you to a warmer place . He keeps asking if you're alright ? Didn't you catch a cold ? Do you need a doctor ?

Leona doesn't know if your fascinated gaze means a yes or no , and it isn't going to help

He isn't going to explain himself right now , maybe give it some time ?

The only reason he treated you this casually was because he was comfortable with you and it was all...a way of showing admiration ?

Maybe it gets better when he explains himself

Ruggie Bucchi

His mouth drops open when he realizes the bra as you two were drying yourselves after the rain . (y/n) is a she...!?

He doubts , he would doubt it again if he even takes a closer look . Suddenly his body feels warmer and his cheeks get red . No way...

Ruggie barely talked to any girls other than his own family and even skipped conversations when girls were brought up , he isn't mentally prepared for it !

But now he is changing with you at the same room ?? Wait wait wait- He might act like a brat but he isn't a jerk

He leaves because he's sure that you need some privacy ; all though he still refuses to believe that you're a girl...

You never ever mentioned your gender in front of him and he never asked , but did anyone else know it except him ? He just wouldn't dare to ask

Well girl or not , he doesn't stop teasing you in general ; but also learns not to go too far since it's still hard for you to be wrapped in an all boy school...you need more support

Jack Howl

He doesn't mind going blind after seeing those nipples under your wet T-shirt . He first thought that they were a bit too big for a boy but...he soon realized that they weren't even for a boy-

He had to take a small look between your legs because he couldn't resist- he had to make sure . And NO ! He didn't see what he wished to see there

He still can't make sure ?? Those things usually proved someone being a girl but still , there is no way to make sure unless he asks you ; but how can he ? No way , he'll just melt down

He doesn't mention anything in front of you but tries indirectly bringing the issue of your gender up with Ace and Deuce : Didn't (y/n) tell you two about her schedule today?

" Her...?"

Well great , now Ace and Deuce have joined him on the ‘terrified of your gender’ army . The only way to make sure is either asking you or... stealing something that could prove it . Someone has to get inside your room but which one of them now...?

Azul Ashengrotto

He is vibing with the pleasant rain as it made today's pe sessions a bit better for him . He asks you to join him

He just takes his glasses off for a second to dry them and- BANG

The color of your bra was too visible that he could even see it without his glasses on

He immediately puts them on and takes a better look , well great now he can clearly see your breasts closely . How bad he wished that he went blind for a second...

You don't get why Azul seems to be studying your chest so you ask if something's wrong?

Azul is pulled out of his thoughts and embarrassment takes him over because you realized what he was staring at : Pathetic

Azul excuses himself telling you that he has to take his pills before he returns to his Octopus form and disappears

How dumb he could be not to realize it till now... Beside that - Why the hell didn't those two tall sticks ( a.k.a Floyd and Jade) realize it either !?

God God God...he keeps swallowing his eyes at the thought...

How can he get over the fact that he was being with a girl all this time...?

Floyd Leech

Well of course he is shocked , Shrimpy was supposed to be a guy but he actually is a little girl ? Meh , what a disappointment

Well , body is body to him so he isn't really shocked or freaked out to see , well , those things under your shirt

He might not be that fascinated , but still has doubts . While you two are taking a walk back to Ramshackle dorm , he just doesn't stop staring at your chest and doesn't mind you noticing him either

To be honest , he now seems to be liking it . You were just a kiddo he always enjoyed teasing but now that you're a girl...? How different would things be ? And would the way he treated you make you possibly... have those girlish feelings for him ? Sounds fun

While saying goodbye at your door he stops for a second to say something . You don't quite get what he asked but he knows better himself : " Random question but- are those seriously soft to squeeze ?"

Jade Leech

Just as Floyd , he doesn't mind you being a girl . He actually appreciates you even more now. Night Raven College isn't a place for weak people and still , to think that a small human girl like you could last this long here... Farewell , human beings can be really interesting he can tell

He gently offers you his coat and escorts you to a warmer place , telling you to change into something dry before you catch a cold

Well the first day is nothing different or weird , but the upcoming days prove how creepy he can be...

He doesn't mind popping up out of nowhere to tell you to choose underwears with a less noticable color at school and it just makes you melt ; not just because it's embarrassing to be told so but also because it proved that Jade is watching you

He does do some research on surface females to get to know the differences between what he expected you to be and what you really are better ; not that he has a complaint though

Jamil Viper

He exactly knows what he just saw there and - He can't help but to feel ashamed . For once he leaves without taking Kalim with him , he just forgot him a the moment

He now feels... angry . You never ever shared your gender but it's not like he ever expected you to be a girl . He feels lied to ; you didn't ever tell the truth but didn't lie either ; that bugs him even more because he doesn't know if he's mad at you or not

Well he now knows when someone you thought you know ends up being something totally different ; like the way Kalim saw who he really is...well that's really annoying to think of

Jamil ignores you for a few days until you come to ask why he's avoiding you . He insists that it's nothing all though it's obvious that it is-

Alright , a few days until he cools down . He wants to keep the distance till then

Knowing your gender often makes him feel ashamed of how casually he's been treating you . Well a lot of things are different when it's an all boy school , right ?

He doesn't know if he should act cooler with you from now or pretend that he never saw anything , he needs time to make up his mind

Kalim al Asim

He was giving you a towel to dry yourself when he recognized your clothes . He was actually thinking of bringing you some dry ones when he saw what he wished he didn't saw- Aaah why would you wear such a recognizable bra : " (y/n)..??"

He quickly pulls back and apologizes ; not that you know what he is apologizing for

He returns to Jamil and tells him to leave , he just can't face you right now

There at Scarabia , Kalim tells Jamil everything since he really needs to share some feelings . He asks Jamil if he knew about this and he certainly didn't

Kalim now keeps wondering... how hard might it be for you ? A girl sorrounded by all guys out there , do you feel safe ?

He now has decided to look after you more than he already did , he just doesn't want you feeling any sad or lonely because of your current situation

He always hated loneliness and that's why he needed Jamil around , now it's your turn to have Kalim around so you'll never be alone

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is well familiar with all beauty materials - including feminine underwear - so he quickly realizes both the unusual size of your chest and the vibrantly colored bra under your clothes . He wishes he hadn't

Bearing the fact that he was having a girl beside him all this time is already hard enough , but what makes it worse is what a terrible female he thinks you are now

You seriously do need a start over ! You are no girl if you're this ignorant toward your appearance even as it makes you look like a guy

He spends all night thinking of what he now should do with you . He does know how to manage guys but girls ? That won't be called something he had much experience on

He isn't feeling as comfortable as before with you yet , he decides to give you some lessons to at least pull you out of your non feminine self

He doesn't mind telling you that you have to do a lot more for yourself as you are a girl ; and he says it as if he knew it all this time

He isn't going to turn you into a princess , it's safer for you to remain something between male and female as you are stuck between all these untrustworthy guys , but it doesn't hold him back from giving you some chance to see your female self. He brings you wigs and puts on your makeup , telling you that you sometimes need to show up like this

He still needs some time to feel as comfortable as he used to with you , but spending time with you trying to have a start over is actually helping him to like you even more than he used to

Rook Hunt

Well congrats , for so long no one had ever succeeded to shock Rook like you did ! That's an improvement . He always makes sure not miss a single detail about those he has his eyes on ; yet he failed to even recognize your gender correctly until now

A bit of fascination won't hurt , right ? After all having a boy like Epel beside him makes it really confusing to specify male and female sometimes

To be honest , he now finds you pretty fragile and helpless : Bunny between the beasts

If a hunter like him didn't know it so far , then probably no one else knew it either . So that's his little secret now

This place's a considerably dangerous zone for a lady to step on , and Rook isn't planning on exposing you like this . He isn't a monster after all...

But having Rook of all people knowing your secret is already enough of torture , isn't it ?

Epel Felmier

I-I thought we were the same...???

This can't be true , this shouldn't be ! Please don't be , please , please , please

Epel looked up to you bot only as a reliable and strong friend but also as someone who goes through similar appearance problems as Epel himself did

You made him feel better that he wasn't the only one having problems with looking too similar to girls ; seems like he was wrong

Epel wasn't ever comfortable with getting close to girls , along becoming a friend of them . He even kept you closer than his other friends since the too of you could relate a lot he thought ; now what should he do ?

He is too embarrassed to even look into your eyes now , he even skips classes you two share and in summary , does anything to avoid you for a while

That is said that girls and boys can never be just friends and... that's frustrating

Now , could the two of you ever be as close as you used to be again?

Idia Shroud

Which is worse , realizing that he's been spending all his time with a girl over the past few months or seeing her wet breasts during the class ?Man , that looked just like those anime hentais one would find online...

Beside that , having your gender exposed makes him feel a bit unsafe about his relationship with you ; if even a simple thing such as gender could be different from what he was expecting you , then what greater differences would your reality have from the (y/n) you were into his eyes ?

Idia hardly ever gets to fully trust anyone and now he isn't sure if he could trust you anymore . Well yes gender might be no big deal compared to the fearful thoughts he is having at mind ; but it's enough to send him into his safe zone and stay away from you

His face turns red and hot whenever he thinks of that scene even when he's all alone in his bedroom , God he wasn't prepared-

Ortho finally forces him to tell what's bothering him and when he confesses , Ortho gets really excited . He keeps telling Idia that as a friend , he has to stay by your side specially because you may feel lonely being a girl all on your own . He reminds Idia of the fact that this is what friends do

He now feels sorry for abandoning you like a coward , but he has to admit that it's a bit hard for him to return the old friendship you two had . Well maybe just texting you instead of face to face interaction would be better ?

Malleus Draconia

uh..? A girl...? Child of man caught in an unknown world and... That's a female . You keep fascinating him over and over ever since he met you , it's just another surprise he can tell

He kinda loses all his focus during the pe class after he accidentally notices the unusual knobs popping under your T-shirt ; are you wearing something wrapped around your...chest ?

He first thinks that it may just be somewhat of a brand new clothing trend to wear feminine-like stuff ; but remembering how you never clearly stated your gender , he now understands how wrong he was

He thought that he had you under his watch pretty well , but he even failed to realize your gender correctly ; perhaps he should learn to do it better

Malleus isn't about to treat you any differently just because you ended up being a girl , all though he has to agree that it was a bit shocking . But in general , nothing about your relationship really seems to be gender related

You don't know his name and he didn't know your gender until now ; is this how karma works ? Well that'd be a bit unfair , gender was rather worthless compared to the fear his real identity might bring you

The only thing that may change now is him being more protective over you ; not that he underestimates you but rather because there's no way for you to be totally comfortable in a school filled with rebellious guys . He wants to make sure that his currently favorite human being won't get in much trouble because of that...

Lilia Vanrouge

Eh ? Through out his hundred-year life this would be the most shameful thing he got to face . You might think that he found it to be a disgrace to his long lasting life which is filled with honor and pride ; but in that case you may like to get to know the old man better

He doesn't like being thought of as a pervert ; but it doesn't mean that he didn't enjoy himself either. Naked figures or seductive girls aren't something he gets overly excited about , same goes for you . Well accidents like this can happen everyday , right ? But this one had something rather fun along with it :

From the direct yet neutral gaze he gave your chest , you immediately realized what he was looking at and you pulled back . Lilia didn't expect you to notice it so quickly , but the embarrassed face you gave him afterwards , that was priceless

He giggles softly at the thought , a shy and cute little girl . He isn't really a fan of boys that are overly cute or childish , but when it comes to little girls , that's another story

You had already caught his eyes by being the only human being caught in this school on your own . Well , to see how feeble and shy you sometimes could be , that reminded him of Silver

Now now , what should he do ? Playing the role of a small girl's parents or something ? Doesn't sound that bad

Sebek Zigvolt

Gasp

He's about to lose his mind - he feels like he has saw you totally naked or lurked into your privacy , he feels awful

He runs to another corner to cool down from what he saw - Damn- That scene doesn't get away from his eyes for a second

Well then , take deep breathes , it's cool , it's fine - it's gonna be fine

Sebek wouldn't dare talking to you for sometime after that . His cheeks get warmer whenever he sees you around , making him change his direction to avoid you

When you finally get him to talk to you , he breaks off- He starts apologizing . He swears not to ever peek on your body again and that he won't say a word from what he saw

You probably don't know what he is talking about , but you say okay to calm him down

Sebek isn't used to having girls around but now that he does , he should be really careful . He doesn't want you to think of him as a antisocial chick when it comes to women and he tries his best to be a gentleman in front of you . Man...he really does take it seriously

Silver

A... girl?... Silver's first reaction would be nothing different from blushing and turning back ; what else would you expect him to do ?

He's a simple guy , he doesn't overreact but doesn't feel totally comfortable either

He didn't ever even think of the possibility of you being a girl , he just isn't used to having anyone else than boys in NRC around . You did always look too cute for a guy but still , he didn't see this coming...

(y/n) is a girl...A girl , this thought gets looped inside his brain . He can't stop freaking out over it . It feels like he's been building a sand castle on water all this time and now he's watching it sink . His whole expectations of you seems to be ruined

It gets even worse when the figure of you dressed in a long beautiful dress , holding a brilliant crown of your flowers on your long silky hair haunts him on his dreams - Why on earth do you have to be so beautiful (y/n)..!?

Silver refuses to accept , but he's pretty soft when it comes to girls . He's pretty shy but to have a girl he has been liking for sometime close...his inner self is getting teased - in a pleasant way

He doesn't show up in front of you for a while , but he just can't get the thought of you out of his mind . From reality to dreams , seems like you're always in front of him . As if you really walked with him once upon a dream

[endobiologist]

Trans Guy Tips #5; Dressing Good

Today, we're going to talk about basic fashion, and some things trans guys specifically need to know when buying a new wardrobe.

Some of these rules can always be broken, it's your body and your choice what to put on it!

However, this is a guide for passing better, so feminine and androgynous looks will not be covered here, only the traditional masculine. I will most likely make a guide out on dressing that way later.

1. Match colors, but don't be afraid to throw in some accent detail colors! Usually when you think of fashion, you think of making everything match, however some things will go better with some contrast rather than plainly matching!

As long as it still has some similarity, it doesn't have to be the same.

The most basic rule you need to learn dressing as a man, is that you wear your belt to your shoes.

If your belt is brown, so should your shoes be.

If your belt is black, they should be black.

Usually most fashion rules can be broken, but this one seems to be very important, as it can throw off the whole appearance of an outfit to have mismatching shoes and belt.

2. Use what I call the finger trick.

When selecting a shirt, specifically a dress shirt, put your fingers in the collar between your neck and the collar.

If you can comfortably fit two or even maybe barely three fingers in there, then that's a perfect fit shirt around your neck.

If you can fit four or more fingers, it's loose and will make you look baggy and overweight.

If you can fit only one, or feel any pressure on your throat, you need a looser shirt because it's too tight.

3. Somewhat similar, but when buying pants, this may be the most important thing of all.

If you get the right set of pants, it can disguise even the biggest of curves.

You want to get what's known as a straight-leg jean pant, you can make it a cargo pant if you wish, either one looks very masculine and good.

I would usually recommend bootcut pants if you wear longer shoes, like boots, or combat boots, or anything you need to tuck the jeans into.

Always get pants that don't feel constricting, and always get them where they fit comfortably with a belt, but don't need a belt due to fitting good already.

But straight-leg type is so important to go for, it's one of the things that makes a boxy figure like a cis man's.

4. I'm not sure if this is obvious or may come as a surprise to some people, but even if you like dressing femininely, if you wish to pass, I would suggest always shopping in the men's section.

They have shirts and pants and everything else under the sun that shaped specifically for men's bodies, making yours look even more like a cis man's, which is very gender affirming. Also women's jeans are made to support the butt and make you look feminine and curvy, while men's are designed to be straight, boxy, and comfortable, usually with deep pockets too!

5. Similar to the matching rule before, you can match a busy pattern shirt with a plain pair of pants, or busy pattern and pants with a plain shirt. However if you put too many busy patterns, or too much plainness, either way makes you look not as good.

Try to balance the detail with the simplicity.

6. Overall the most masculine thing you can wear especially pre-t, is either a formal or casual suit.

You can even wear just a dress shirt with a tie or bow tie, with some dress shoes and pants, and you're good!

This just generally makes you look super masculine and it's hard to mistake.

7. if you're like me, where you like to dress flamboyantly, but you're also super dysphoric about it, wait until you get testosterone therapy.

If you end up having it and you start seeing positive effects before dressing femininely, it's great!

I did this and now I feel totally comfortable with it, as no one ever misunderstands me even if I wear the most feminine things ever.

So if you're going on t, feel free to dress more extravagantly during because you will pass even so!

8. Another way to check shirts that are long sleeved, particularly dress shirts, is to tuck it in like usual, and then lift up your arms really high like you're reaching for something.

If it untucks or lifts the fabric in an unflattering way where your armpits look huge, it's cut wrong and is not something you should buy.

9. This may be surprising to some, but yes, cis men will wear feminine designs on masculine outfits.

I can't count the number of times I've seen men wearing bright pink suits. Other times there's been crop tops, painted nails, hair done, everything.

So if you really like that button up with the flowers on it, but are feeling hesitant due to the feeling that people might judge you, don't worry!

Maybe some will, but a lot of people wear unique clothing, and no one will be as bad as what your thoughts say to you.

10. I have somewhat of a warning, as good and fun they are, t-shirts can be very revealing when it comes to showing your chest, even through your binder! Something about them isn't cut quite right, even if they come from the manliest man's site or store.

If you still wish to wear t-shirts like I do, I would recommend getting a short-sleeved or long-sleeved Dickies button up jacket/shirt that you wear open over it. Or any jacket thing, really. This covers your chest completely and negates that effect.

11. This is sort of more hygiene base but still has to do with getting dressed. Always use men's soap, and men's cologne, and men's essential oils, and men's lotion, if you have them.

Also use some aftershave, it's helpful if it has lotion mixed in and moisturizes as well.

You can even shave even if you're pre-t, due to it making a clean feeling due to there being no feminine peach fuzz on it. This can help support dysphoria relief, as well because it feels like you're shaving a beard, at least until it comes in.

When your moustache and beard do come in from testosterone, if you take it, make sure to oil it lightly with natural oils like argan oil or coconut oil, the stimulates hair growth and follicle health.

And I would recommend shaving just once as it starts developing, so it develops thicker, stronger, and more handsome.

12. If you're planning on going on t, buy at least some of your clothing a size or a few sizes up, or getting a duplicate that's larger.

You will grow, so if you buy all your clothing in a smaller size, you'll probably end up unable to use any of it.

13. Always position your belt buckle in the center of your stomach, the way you can tell if it's positioned right is if it lines up with the buttons of your button up perfectly.

14. When wearing a suit try to always keep the bottomless button unbuttoned. That button isn't actually there to be used, it's meant to be unbuttoned and it makes it look so much better.

The reason it looks so much better is because it makes it flattering and thinning. If you button all the buttons, it will make you look heavy due to it tightening around your waist and stomach.

15. You should always have at least two pairs of dress shoes. one pair that's black, and one pair that's brown. Same with belts. It's also recommended for summer that you keep one pair of masculine flip flops or sandals or sneakers around.

16. This is more of a suggestion than anything, however it's manly as fuck, and people love it.

If you carry a work knife, a pocket watch, a small portable multitool, and a handkerchief.

Possibly even a pen and small notepad with you at all times.

This may seem odd at first, but it's what men used to do constantly in the older days.

These items can come in very useful. A work knife can open packages, open letters, be used in place of scissors occasionally, and even used to defend yourself and others.

A pocket watch is just fancy and shows you're always trying to be on time.

A multi-tool shows you're ready for any task, and it can be a lifesaver in many situations!

Meanwhile a handkerchief is important, because if you ever come across someone crying, or someone wounded, you can lend them or give them your handkerchief, which is a very gentlemanly thing to do, and it can help you pass better, as well as it just being a kind thing to do for someone.

The pen and small notepad is always good to carry on you regardless of any gender, due to you needing to write things down often.

17. Ironically, although socks with sandals seems to be a fashion 'no-no' to most people, I quite like them, and it seems like I pass better with them.

Men tend to wear those slip-on flip flop things, and when you wear socks with it it makes you look very masculine, even if it may look silly to some.

Personally I like it a lot.

18. If you do wish to do makeup & nails, I would suggest doing it as black and gothic as possible, as that's the most common style guys do it as, and if you do it in a certain way, it can come out looking way masculine.

And that concludes my fifth part of this Trans Guy Tips series!

Thank you for reading, and I hope anything I said helped!

[one-rosy-sock]

Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)

Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt. 

Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.

It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.

As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.

And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.

You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.

His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.

You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.

Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.

“Mr. Krill?”

He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.

Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.

“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.

He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.

Hastily, he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”

He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.

After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.

You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.

Your patient stares in visible confusion.

“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”

“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.

You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.

“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.

Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.

“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”

This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”

He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.

“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.

You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.

“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”

“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”

You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”

Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”

“We mostly spoke about my mother.”

“Oh?”

“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.

“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.

Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”

“You did?”

“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”

You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”

Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”

“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”

Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”

He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.

“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”

The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.

“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”

Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”

“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”

His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.

The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."

“No."

He flinches.

"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”

Abner nods.

“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”

He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”

“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”

“But I am?”

“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”

Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.

“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”

“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”

“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”

The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.

You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.

“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”

The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”

“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”

“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”

With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”

He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.

“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”

“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”

"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."

His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."

“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”

Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.

“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”

“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”

He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.

You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.

You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.

It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.

[deluluass]

all yours; all mine

71 and 58 with Atsumu pleaseeese. I just love this man and I would appreciate it if you wrote something with him. Youre so talented!💕 — anon

sidenote: anon, i hope u know that u have a very special place in my heart for being the first ask ive ever received. i hope u are well & having a gr8 day ;U;

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; daddy kink; mild angst; implied post-breakup depression; toxic relationship/s

Breakups are a messy business. A lot of crying, begging, screaming (if it's that type of a breakup). Whatever it is, breakups generally inspire intense— so-intense-it-could-get-you-kicked-out-if-you're-in-a-public-place, high-strung, and the most unpleasant kind of emotions. 

It’s understandable, considering you’re losing the person you love. 

But he doesn't even look upset.

"Aah," Atsumu sing-songed, twirling the plastic stirrer between his fingers. "Ya wanna call it off?"

The heat from the mug bit your skin as you gripped it. 

"What?" you choked, shaking your head. "I didn't say that, Atsumu. I only-"

He scoffed. "Fuckin'- ya just did."

You finally looked up at him, porcelain clinking as you placed your drink back on the saucer. Ball cap on,  muscles filling up and straining his hoodie and jeans; even in an outfit that almost concealed him he never fails to take your breath away. 

Only, it's for a different reason this time.

"I said that I-" you cleared your throat. "I want- I want you to-"

"I get it, I get it." Atsumu sighed, waving his hand nonchalantly. "Let's break up, then."

He was already standing up and he didn't even deign to meet your eyes. You didn't expect much when you'd travelled all the way to Tokyo just to have a talk with him. After all, the last conversation you had was over the phone. (And that, too, did not go well). 

Though, is it too much to expect he'd at least listen to what you have to say?

"Tsumu-kun! Wait!" 

Some customers were already staring, urging you to hide, hop on the next train, and run back home; away from the cold scrutiny of strangers. 

But not now. Not when what you have with him is hanging on a balance.

"Please, sit down and- and let's talk," you huffed, voice and hand trembling as you held onto his.

Breakups are a messy business, you heard.

A lot of crying. A lot of begging. A lot of screaming. Whichever kind it is, don't breakups usually inspire only the most intense emotions?

But he doesn't even look upset, doesn't even look like he feels anything other than a passing irritation, as if you were a fly buzzing in his ear, when he told you, "I know this is ya first rodeo, but yer gonna find someone new eventually, hm?"

It's been a long time coming, Atsumu thinks. He'd known for quite a while now that his relationship with you would end, actually, ever since you'd wanted to include "feelings" and "trust" and "opening up" into the mix. 

"Why?" he'd laughed at your face once. "What? Ya ain't happy? That it? We got somethin' good goin' on don't we?"

He didn't get it, at first. You'd always been your cheerful, bubbly self; never failing to be that one sunny spot when his day gets too pesky and such a pain in the ass. You were happy.

Until you weren't. 

"You don't.. tell me things," you muttered, fiddling with your hands on the kitchen table. "Which is fine! I'm not- go at your pace, but- but know that I'd listen to you. Always. I'm here, 'Tsumu."

And it wasn't as if he didn't try. It's just that Atsumu realized, a few months later, that he wasn't any good at it. 

Every time he'd lay it all out in front of you⁠— every tiny and pathetic and gritty part of him, you would eventually take him in your arms. So much smaller, weaker than his and yet Atsumu did not mind if it could be his entire world. 

Then, a thought would creep in, like a thief that'd stab him in his sleep. In the safety of those tender arms, with those guileless eyes peering at him, Atsumu would think that he'd rather stay there forever, cling onto you until he bites the dust.  

It disgusted him. 

Atsumu couldn't stand it. Because if he could be anything in this short life, he'd choose to be perfect. And that- that wasn't it. 

So he avoided it when the occasion arose. Diverting the subject to mundane stuff was easy, at first. The weather, the new show you're binging, your slacker of a boss, what happened back in the game. When that didn't work⁠— well, there were other ways. 

(His favorite was sticking his tongue in your wet cunt, to prod at the soft walls with the tip, and to lap and suck at the clit until you're begging for the stretch of his fat cock.)

The break up was understandable. When you'd greeted him in the café as if you'd spent the entire time you were apart crying, Atsumu knew it was over. 

You just repeated what you'd always said. It's okay to be vulnerable. If he needs some time to work out the right words then you'd always wait because I love you, 'Tsumu. 

(But there was that feeling again. Like he could die on the spot if you would so much as leave his sight.)

(Ending it was the only way out. When poison seeps itself into the bloodstream, you're left with no choice but to cut off a part of you.)

Unlike others, he can say that it was a clean parting. You wanted something and he was bad at it. And because he hated fucking up, Atsumu decided to leave. Easy. 

Really, the only people who didn't understand were his teammates.

"That's strange," Hinata spat, rice bursting to his chin when he suddenly faced Atsumu. "I don't think I've seen her for weeks now."

He could hear barely suppressed groans  behind him, no doubt from Bokuto and the others, before their spiker blurted out a confused, "What?"

Because, of course, Hinata could only mean one "her.” (There had only ever been one that Atsumu Miya allowed inside the team's gymnasium; inside his circle of friends; inside his life.)

Apparently, except for Hinata Shoyo, everyone had caught on that the both of you had thrown in the towel, so to speak. (And here they thought the guy's finally in it for real.)

"Nah, it's fine," Atsumu smirked, addressing it to everyone gathered around Samu's onigiri stand.  

"We broke up." 

He clicked his tongue. "It's not like there ain't no other fish in the sea."

The remark, casually said in between sips of cold coffee, was met with a gaping silence. 

That turned out to be right, like everything else that he'd predicted. 

A hole is a hole is a hole is a hole. No disrespect meant to you. But before you there had been many others who'd helped warm his bed. It just so happened that you got to stay for far longer. 

(Because waking up next to you meant waking up to that dreamy look, as if whoever's in charge up there has finally given you everything you've ever wanted.)

(And when he greets you with a hoarse good morning you say it back with eyes that tell him he's worth it, simply for being there.)

Anyway, going back to that old routine hadn't been difficult. 

(Except when he finally does it with someone new, for some reason he keeps searching for a different touch, expecting that endearing combination of inexperience and enthusiasm.)

(And when they cum he can't help but put a hand on their mouth, around their throat, because he's hearing the wrong voice, seeing the wrong face.) 

It's obvious, looking at him. Everyone can see that life's going pretty well for Atsumu. He can only hope that the same goes for you.

"You're miserable."

Peeling your attention away from the mother braiding her young daughter's hair, you hurriedly brought it back to the two women sitting in front of you.

"See?" Aya swung her hand in your direction. "Not even listening."

"No, no," you giggled sheepishly. Kaori was already pursing her lips.

"No, seriously. I am."

You sat upright, setting the chopsticks on your bento box. 

"Then what was it she said?" Kaori pressed. She folded her arms and you knew you were in trouble. 

"Uh..huh." You nodded. "Right. So. Um...."

"You didn't catch it," said Kaori.

"I didn't catch it," you winced.

Both girls sighed. 

The first three buttons of their blouses were open, the heat of the afternoon getting to them. And as they leaned back against the wooden bench, you had a feeling that they were about to give you the Conversation that's been waiting to happen for two long months.

That's why you'd decided to start it before they could. Just so it won't linger anymore painfully so.

“I know what you're going to say."

They only raised their brows, a mere "okay, go on" than an actual expression of surprise. 

"I've been sad. I haven't been..fine. That is true," you inhaled, preparing yourself for the agonizing part. Then, you released your breath.

"Ever since..'Tsu-" you gulped. "Ever since breaking up with Atsumu I haven't been feeling like myself but nowadays I'm getting back on my feet and I'm still working see so really there's no need to worry okay? Okay."

Aya grinned, but it didn't hold her usual devil-may-care humor to it. 

"You say that," she started, "but we’ll probably always be if you keep at that- at that⁠—"

"You're rarely in the moment," Kaori supplied, to which Aya replied with a harsh thank you. "You're distracted. And we know you're trying your best to be okay on your own. We've given you space, but remember that you have us."

Something was lodged in your chest and you found it hard to breathe. You'd missed them. You hadn't realized it, but you missed your friends. 

So much.

"Thank you," you whispered, forcing back  tears. "I- I wouldn't know what to do if it not for you two-"

"Hold it." Aya raised a palm. "Before you get corny again. Can I just say, I know he's your first dick-"

"Aya," Kaori murmured.

"And we all know it was good-"

"Aya," you hissed.

Your face burned as you searched from left to right, making sure no innocent being heard her.

"But can I just say," she slapped a palm on the surface of the table. "I don't care what you or the TV or his fans say about him! But the man's a walking red flag since day one!"

Kaori rolled her eyes. And despite yourself you couldn't keep a chuckle from bubbling. 

"Here we go again."

Aya almost rose from her seat. "When he sent that poor dude from accounting to the ER for just, I don't know, breathing your way, I knew something was up!"

You felt your smile die. 

That had been the first time it happened. You'd asked him what's wrong, after you'd rushed to the hospital, and all he gave you was silence. A whole day of it. He hadn't spoken a word about it, only that he'd warned you not to talk to that bastard again, or else.

(You'd learned, much, much later, that he doesn't do well with people that annoy him. That's what he said. You wanted to know more, but he suddenly decided that he had to make it up to you between the sheets.)

Kaori touched your hand. "Talk to us," she whispered.

You hummed as you shook your head. "I just remembered him," you said, only half of the truth.

If they knew it, they didn't let on. But Aya did say, "Tell you what. Company outing's upon us. So you know what that means?"

"Oh, I don't know," you mumbled apologetically. "I might sit this one out."

"No," Kaori gritted. 

Aya held your face with both hands as she  stared you down.

"You will buy yourself a new swimsuit. You will enjoy that cheap beach resort." 

The heaviness was lifting, bit by bit, as you felt your stomach ache with laughter. And with each silly word uttered by your friends, you could almost see the gray clouds overhead disappearing. Even for a little while.

"And you, you beautiful person you," Aya beamed. "Will finally, finally get laid."

Having best friends who are dead set on helping you get over an ex is a fearsome thing to behold, indeed. 

You couldn't even get a word in edgewise as they took you in a whirlwind of spas, salons, mani-pedis, and shopping bags. 

"Calm down. You rarely spend for yourself," Kaori told you when she'd caught you peeking forlornly at the frightening bill you'd amassed. 

But, try as you might to miss owning a fat wallet, you couldn't deny that you have no regrets wasting your money away. Not even for a single cent. Because you did feel amazing.

And when the day arrived, you couldn't help at the giddiness of having compliment after compliment thrown your way. 

"Is that really you?" said a co-worker when you'd boarded the bus. "You're glowing!"

During the games, as well, you'd often hear "Love the new look!" and "Have I ever told you before that you're so pretty? Because you are." And you'd preen with a soft-spoken thank you, having been taught by Kaori that denying a compliment makes one look stupid.  

It was so silly, honestly. Though not the part where, after a lovely comment, you'd be emboldened to strike an actual conversation. Learning that a coworker has a new baby now, or that so and so has recently moved up the corporate ladder; learning that, during your period of grief and self-pity (and even during the blissful time you’d spent with Atsumu), there were so many things you hadn't noticed.

You basked in it: the shower of pleasantries and anecdotes that had you feeling soft and fuzzy inside. The same way you lazed on the sandbar, clutching tiny conch shells in your hand, as you watched the sun tinge the sparkling waves with warm light.   

"Hey."

You jolted, turning towards the person who'd called your name. It was him. "Poor dude from accounting" as Aya dubbed him.

"Sano-san," you gasped, reaching for the towel beside you to cover up. "How- how are you?" 

Of all the people in your office, he was the last one you wanted to see. Solely for the reason that things have been awkward between you ever since that incident. A working relationship characterized by the literal turning of the other cheek whenever you two bumped into each other.

"Oh, pardon me," he scratched the back of his head. "Do you..want me to go?"

Yes. 

"No..!" you blurted out. "I think-"

The sun was almost setting. You wrapped the towel around you as you took in the balmy sea breeze. 

"I think I'm done hiding," you whispered, meeting his gaze for the first time in a long while, head on and baring the tiniest hint of shame, like how you did with your friends and other coworkers.

He didn't say anything, allowing you to continue. "I- It's nice. Talking to people again," you giggled. "Look, Sano-san. About before, I'm really sor-"

"Actually," he smiled. "That's why I'm here. Well, my partner pushed me but-"

You grinned at the blush that rose to his cheeks. 

"But I wanted to tell you: No hard feelings."

Sano-san extended a hand. You stared at it for a few seconds. His hand, then his face. Back to his hand, then his face again. And when you'd finally accepted it, it felt like witnessing the cage that’s imprisoned you for centuries finally open.

"By the way," he added, walking back towards an obviously amused fianceé. "It's a good look on you, being happy."

Atsumu entertained the possibility that maybe— just maybe, not everything was  fine the night the Jackals went home after an overseas tournament.

As soon as the plane landed on Japanese soil, the hunger he felt throughout the journey morphed into some kind of  anticipation, palpable through the thrill that electrified him into wakefulness. He might have left in a hurry, only half of his mind present when the Coach ordered for a short meeting. 

His foot tapped endlessly on the way⁠— while in the car; during the tedious elevator ride⁠— and when he'd finally entered his pad, slamming the door open with much eagerness than usual, Atsumu felt his heart plummet down his stomach when he was welcomed by a dark and empty hallway. 

You're not here. Not anymore.

Hasn't it been almost half a year now? Why did he expect you, face brightened by a grin that went from ear to ear, to materialize in front of him, with the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen? As if a magician with a hat trick.   

("Welcome back!" he was aching to hear.)

(You always insisted on eating with him when he got home; sometimes opting to just stay by his side⁠— munching on a midnight snack while you babbled on, if he arrived later than usual and you'd already had dinner.)

("It's lonely having a meal on your own," you explained. "Don't you think food tastes better if you have someone with you?")

Perhaps it was the jet lag. Or, it could be that the abrupt change in time zones was starting to mess with his head. Either way, Atsumu was sure that sleep would eventually cure him of the momentary delirium. 

But then he woke up the next day feeling like someone had pissed in his morning drink. The day after that, too. Even the next had been the same, persisting onto the following weeks. 

Until one game, after a winning streak that had the crowd chanting their names and with blood still roaring in his veins, he condescended to survey the numerous people occupying the bleachers. 

And when he couldn't find one⁠— one person that had always stood out to him despite being constantly drowned in an ocean of spectators— it was only then that Atsumu Miya decided that enough was enough. 

You hadn't really agreed with Aya when she told you that you'd be getting "laid" during this short vacation. 

Reason number one: it's a company outing. And you're sure you'd be breaking some protocols by fooling around with any of your coworkers. Reason Two: as you'd sagely imparted to a miffed Aya, "I don't think it's nice to cure a broken heart with sex; strings attached or no."

That being said, the lingerie she'd chosen for you did flatter your figure. It didn't matter that "no one would see it," as Aya grumbled. It was enough for you that you yourself saw it, you thought as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. 

The way it was tailored made it seem like it was made just for your body. The details of lace also made it look so pretty that you felt kind of sad that you'd have to cover it up with a summer dress soon. 

Nevertheless, you allowed yourself to strike a few poses in front of the mirror; feeling like a teenager on their first date as you admired how you looked in it. 

You smiled to yourself, humming a tune, before you opened your makeup kit and prepared the necessities you'd be bringing for the bonfire dinner. 

"Wipes: check," you murmured, rummaging through your bag. "Hygiene stuff. Where are you hygiene stuff, hygiene stu⁠—"

You froze.

Something rustled. Outside. As if something had moved. 

Putting a robe back on, your heart thundered against your chest as you stepped out of the bathroom and into the dimly lit sleeping area, illuminated only by a small reading lamp.

"Be careful there, girlie," the old caretaker warned as she guided you to this room. "Lots of mean spirits lurking about."

You didn't believe in ghosts. For some reason, however, your coworkers did. So you'd taken it to yourself to move here after a room assignment mishap, leaving Aya and Kaori behind. 

It didn't seem like the cursed chamber that she purported to be. Sure, it was isolated at the furthest wing of the beach house, away from the other rooms and separated by a too dark hallway. But that had been the creepiest thing about it. Besides, you heard from logistics that renting the house didn't cost much, despite its size, so maybe it's just that they lacked the resources to renovate. 

The floorboards creaked beneath you. "Aya? Aya, I know it's you," you called out as you squinted, catching a faint silhouette reclined at the corner of the bed. 

It was too large to be Aya, but you chalked that up to the shadows playing with your eyes. You puffed out a chortle, resting a hand on your hips when she finally stood.   

"Very funny, Aya," you snorted when she sauntered towards you. "Just you wait until Kaori hears about.…" you trailed off.

"......this."

You drew in a breath as she moved closer, revealing a build that was much taller, towering almost in the small room, shoulders that are way broader than the ones your friend has, and a face that clearly wasn't Aya's.

"Evenin'," Atsumu yawned. 

Your legs refused to listen to you.

"Been a minute, hadn't it, darlin'?"

You don't know why he's here. 

And even if you wanted to ask, you find that no sound could escape from your mouth when you tried to open it.

You do know this, as he gave you a lopsided grin that used to have you eating at the palm of his hand, along with a lazy gaze that was belied by a bird-like focus:

That although he told you that all he wants is a little chat, you knew that he didn't come here just for that.

You ran.

Atsumu had been the worst boyfriend.

He's aware of it now, realized it fully when he knocked on Samu's door, shit-faced, and it only took a single look and a consoling arm from his brother to break Atsumu into tears and snot, as well as Samu's voice telling him, "Yer a big baby. Ya need her, dontcha?"

That's why he followed you here, figuring that you'd love a thoughtful surprise. Because you always have. He didn't expect you'd take to it kindly, of course, not right away. But he also didn't expect that you would be doing the surprising.

You were talking to that man when he arrived. 

Didn't he tell you not to?

His intentions still haven't changed. He's here to bring you back, but before anything else Atsumu's sure it's only normal that you guys clear things up first. 

And if you're going to do that, he can't have you running away now, can't he?

Grabbing you by the waist, Atsumu's palm tingled at the feel of your body, pulling you closer to him as he pinned you to the wall and stifled your shrieks with his hand.

"Everybody's gone, angel," he whispered, losing himself in your skin, though covered in silk; lips and fingers roaming every which way because finally, finally, fuckin' finally you're here and you're real.

"Just wanna talk." He stroked the curve of your ass, middle finger tracing the lining of the crack. "Ain't this what'ya always wanted? S'let's talk," he murmured against your collarbone.

You were already crying, shaky hands weakly grasping his back and tears wetting even his cheeks. Atsumu couldn't help but smile. You'd always been a crier. It's one of the many things he loves about you. Always so honest with your emotions.

"I missed ya," Atsumu groaned as he grinded his cock against your pussy, feeling it harden when he mouthed your tits.

There was something peeking out of your robe, he noticed as it became more rumpled. 

"D-don't," you breathed, your attempt to swat his hands away thwarted when he seized your wrist.

It was lace. The color pulling the eye to your body like a siren's song. And when he stripped the robe off of you, silk swishing down your elbows, Atsumu saw that it was a piece of lingerie. One that he hasn't seen before.

Because he didn't buy this one. It wasn't from him. You weren't the type to get one yourself. 

Until now.

"This for him?" he murmured, pressing a kiss against your pulse, beating like a drum against his lips. 

"Wh-who?" you whimpered.

"The ugly piece of shit. Saw you guys gettin' chummy earlier."

He was close, too close to you, back at the beach. You smiled at him, laughed and showed him what he isn't supposed to see. And when he touched you— when the fucker touched you, Atsumu wanted blood on his hands.

"Yer gonna fuck the guy whose face I busted?" 

You squeaked as he dug his blunt nails against your wrist. Atsumu licked the red impressions they made.

"And what- what about it?" Your voice was so brittle and small. God, he just wanted to hold you. "It's none of your business, who I spend my time with. And don't- don't tell me you're jealous because-"

He chuckled, the sound of it making you shrink back into the wall. "Jealous? Doll, ya wouldn't wanna know what I'm feelin right now. But, sure." Atsumu lightly nipped at the tips of your fingers. 

"'Course I'm jealous," he rasped. "You're mine."

Then, Atsumu looked at you. And what he saw in your eyes made him stumble that when you shoved him away, all he could do was stand and stare.

"I'm not your thing, Atsumu," you cried. A light-year difference from the girl who'd always stare at him so tenderly. "I never was and I never will be. I'm not yours."

You didn't run this time. You should've. 

Atsumu clenched his jaw. "Like hell ya ain't," he snarled.

People say that breakups are a messy business. Atsumu was so sure he wouldn't have to endure that, before he met you.  Now that he's had the experience, though, Atsumu can say with confidence that breakups are, in fact, a goddamn mess.

But you're over that now. It's time to turn over a new leaf and return to one another. And Atsumu's finding out, in the process, that making up can be astonishingly reminiscent of the breakup.

You started crying when you woke up, screaming for help as you tried to budge the rope that was tying your hands to your knees. You got louder when you found out that you were naked and not in the rickety confines of the beach house. 

"Welcome home, baby," he beamed, eying you from between your legs. 

The begging started when you realized how drenched your little pussy was, his tongue lapping and slathering the cum dripping from your twitching hole, against  your swollen folds; his calloused thumb massaging deep circles on your clit. 

And when he stuck another inside your puckered asshole, you writhed out of your binds and squealed, "T-tsumu-kun…!"

Fuck. 

"Babydoll," he growled. "Daddy's gotcha, daddy's gonna treat ya so fuckin' good."

He slapped your damp cunt with his long fingers, thrusting them inside to rub and feel at your walls, at the bump that never failed to make you screech. "Daddy's been mean hasn't he? Hm? Been a bad daddy to ya, baby?"

You could only gasp out wordlessly as he slurped the juices off your clit, not stopping until you were gushing, sloppy cum drizzling on the bedsheet, every muscle in spasms, incapable of even stretching out your legs although Atsumu knew you wanted to, you really wanted to so fuckin' bad, resorting to curling your toes instead. 

"E-enough, please, please, stop!"

How adorable, Atsumu thought. "My little slut," he cooed, tapping the tip of his hard cock on your pussy. "My good 'lil fucktoy."

He relished it, wanting to draw this on forever, so he slides it against your folds, pussy lips wrapping the meat of his cock, gyrating his hips back and forth, as if he were fucking you, and grabbing your tits to play with your nipples. 

"Atta girl," he laughed, licking his teeth when he finally sunk inside your tight cunt, pushing you so far down into the mattress until his chest was rubbing against your tits, your feet dangling against his shoulders.

"I don't-I don't want this, 'Tsumu," you sobbed. "Don't want this!"

Oh, of course you don't. Atsumu knows you don't. He'd fucked you against your will, after all. 

But you were taking him so well, darlin'. Your walls were hugging his cock so fuckin' nicely that he couldn't help but shove deeper inside you, craving for the way your pussy twitched rapidly around him. 

If you weren't bound, he's also sure that you'd be pushing his hips away. But that's not what's getting to him. Because as he pistoned his cock into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass, you instantly turned your face away.

Did you know that you were breaking his heart? Shattering it to pieces, when you close your eyes like doors, locking them to prevent him from ever reaching you again. 

So he gripped your chin. Forced you to meet his eyes as you wept and shook your head. 

"Am gonna be better, baby," he groaned.  "No more keeping things from ya. None of that bullshit, now."

Atsumu shivered as you came around him, convulsing under him and strained voice still begging him to stop. Because he wasn't. He would never stop. Not when it comes to you. 

"Am all yours, angel. All yours." He pounded your fucked out cunt, chasing his own high as he kneaded your tits. 

A tear fell from your eyelids. And when he kissed you, it felt like everything in his life shifted back in its rightful place. "You can have it all," he sighed, cupping your cheek.

"So give me all of you now," Atsumu pleaded. "Come back to me."

[perzawa]

→ defender of justice

saeyoung choi x fem! reader

desc: you weren’t the best at relationships. man after man, woman after woman, but you could not find the right one. after getting stood up on a date, a mysterious man with red hair comes to the rescue. 

genre: smut

warnings: praise kink, unprotected sex, sex with a stranger, pet names

word count: 3.1K

Not again.

Not like this.

Hot tears pricked your eyes, the salty liquid rolling slowly down your flaming cheeks. How long had it been since you were sitting in that exact spot, waiting and waiting and waiting. You looked around like a lost puppy, mouth agape and eyes wide. Where the hell was he? You scammed the restaurant, your eyes glossing over multiple bodies of men and women. Everyone looked so happy with their spouses or potential mates, smiling in the faces of each other as they shared meals. 

That was supposed to be you laughing. That was meant to be you sharing spaghetti with your boyfriend. How could you be so foolish to believe he’d show up this time? 

“Ma’am, are you ready to pay for your meal?” The woman asked kindly, eyes shut with a large smile plastered on her features. You frowned, wiping away at the tears forming in your eyes. 

“Just a moment, ma’am.” 

“Okay! I’ll be back!” She left soon after. Sweat trickled down your eyebrows and your breathing hitched, stomach churning painfully. You were surrounded by couples. Everywhere you looked, there was a couple. Man, women, women, men. You’d given up. He won. Getting ready to pay and leave, you stood up, wiping at the new tears forming in your eyes. 

You took one last look around. Multiple people had been paying attention to you now, apologetic looks dancing across their faces. You simply smiled in their directions. You didn’t need pity from anyone. You’ve been stood up before, you’ll be fine. Yeah, you’ll be fine after you eat six tubs of ice cream and cry your eyes out for a week. Maybe you and Akira weren’t meant to be. You had given up now, sighing as you reached for your wallet, standing to your aching feet.

Just then, a pair of shoes stepped into your vision and you looked up, instantly in awe. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. You can sit down now.” 

You stared up at him, lips agape as you tried to process his request. This wasn’t Akira. I mean, he was no doubt more attractive than Akira was in every way, but he definitely wasn’t Akira. The last time you’d seen him, Akira had black hair, not red. 

“W-Who are you?” 

“I’m Seven. Just go with it, okay?” He whispered to you, sitting in the seat across the table from yours. Shocked, you didn’t say anything, only blinking at the man. 

“I was standing there,” he looked over and pointed to the small line of people waiting to be seated. “I was there for a bit and I noticed that you’d been stood up.” You winced hearing the words, eyes darting down in embarrassment. You knew he wasn’t coming, but it still ached to hear him put it so matter-of-factly. 

“He’s a dick. Or she.” 

“A-Are you here with someone?” You tripped over your words, rubbing your exposed arm with your hand. Suddenly the air was cooler, tighter. 

“Nah, I came alone. I originally came for pickup, but seeing a pretty little lady all by herself made me change my mind.” 

“O-Oh…” you tilted your head up at him. “Please, I don't wish to burden you or anything. You’re incredibly sweet, but you can get your food.” 

The mysterious man chuckled, running his hand through his shaggy hair as his eyes looked you up and down. “You’re precious.” 

“I’m serious. I don’t want you to pity me. I saw this coming.” You mumbled those last words, pushing your plate of food to the middle of the table, hoping a waitress would swing by soon so that you could leave quickly. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. My conscience won’t allow me to leave you alone here.” You frowned, crossing your legs under the table. Your eyes met his and you’d noticed how pretty his were, suddenly melting. This man was adorable. Sure, he was kinda underdressed to be eating there, but you overlooked his apparel. He was hot. 

A few minutes passed by of an odd silence before a waitress came by, taking your old food and asking who she assumed to be your date, if he was ready to order. 

So he did. 

“Seven…” you muttered, hoping he would’ve been gone by now. “You’re too nice. I-I’ll pay for this as a thank you.” 

“Pay for it? Oh, hush, I got it. I’ve got enough. Don’t thank me for anything, okay?” 

And that was it. He ordered food and even shared a bit with you, even after you explained that you’d already eaten. You didn’t even know how you could both find so much to talk about, being complete strangers and all. But you still found a way. You incorporated jobs, home life, and he even allowed you to talk about your relationship with Akira a bit. 

“I was right. He sounds like an ass.” 

You giggled, reaching over the table to fork some of his salad before shoving it in your mouth. Seven gazed at you in awe, his focus completely set on you whenever you decided to share something, anything. 

“He wasn’t always like that, I promise. We got along really well for a while and it was perfect,” you looked down at the table you were sitting at before a dry chuckle found its way out of you. “We’re a bit off and on, you could say. That’s why this was so important to me. I guess he didn’t care as much.”

Seven frowned, noticing your change in demeanor. 

“Don’t let that get you down, okay? Look, you may not know me, but I’m here now. And as far as I’m concerned, I’m having so much fun right now. I’m glad he didn’t show up.” 

“Really? Y-You’re having fun?” Your eyes widened and you felt blood rush to your cheeks, self consciously rubbing your arm, which had now produced an insane amount of goosebumps. 

“Course I am, sweetie. What? You thought I stayed for my health? You’re cool. He’s missing out.” 

And with that, you both changed the subject to forget about Akira. He was irrelevant. 

You didn’t end up paying for your bill in the end, Seven did. Of course he did it, throwing in a ‘you really thought I’d let you pay for this alone?’ While he was at it. He escorted you out, hands stuffed in his pocket. You felt the cool air embrace your skin, the new area calming you now, the wind sweeping away every negative thought you experienced that evening. You almost forgot you’d even been stood up in the first place, really. But that’s how fun the ginger was. He was sweet and loud, always making jokes. His humor was a little bit odd. Well, it was extremely odd, but it made him more attractive to you. From his striped glasses to his plain sneakers, he was so down to earth. You wanted to talk to him again. You needed to say thank you. 

“I had a great time. Hey, actually, you never told me your name.” He turned to you, both of you still standing in front of the building. 

“Oh! You’re right! It’s Y/N.” 

“Well, Y/N, I had a good time. I’ll get going now, you take care for me.” The tall man turned away, pressing the button on his keys. Your ears perked up after hearing the car beep, indicating that the car was his. 

He was leaving. 

C’mon, Y/N. Ask him. It won’t be hard, right? The worst he could say is that he’s probably busy or he’s got work in the morning. Just do it. Do it. 

You yelped and that seemed to snatch his attention, the man whipping around to see if you were alright. 

“You good?” 

“Y-Yeah! Um, I’ve got no idea if you’re like busy tomorrow or something,” you trailed off, staring at your heels as you rocked back and forth on them. “I wanted to know if you wanted to come over! J-Just to like, watch Netflix. Unless you’re busy! Then that’s okay! I’m so sorry for burdening you!” You rambled on, your face entirely flushed, your body swinging sporadically from putting yourself on the spot like that. 

“Hey, hey, stop that,” he pushed your chin up, your eyes drifting to his hair, rather than his eyes. “I’d love to come over, okay? Hell, where’s your car? Let’s go right now.” 

Your eyes shot down to his, your face lighting up at his kind words. 

“Oh! Um, I took a cab here!” 

“That’s fine. Just gimme the directions, I’ll take you.” 

You could feel your heart swell in your chest. He was so damn cute. His smile stretched across his entire face, eyes closed from his cheeks pushing them upward. He guided you to his vehicle and let's just say you were more than impressed with his ride, eyes widening. Damn, now you really had to know where this man worked to afford such an expensive car. That was a question for another day. You pulled up a GPS and from there, the ride was mostly silent. You aimlessly scrolled through your twitter feed until he pulled up outside your home, first asking if he was at the right place. 

“Yeah, this is it!” Seven nodded and parked in your driveway, stepping out of his car awkwardly waiting for you to unlock the door before he did anything else. He locked his car, following after you. You giggled and unlocked your home, your cat rushing to the opening door to greet you. 

Seven laughed, pushing his way in as well. “Hey! I love cats!” 

You beamed, bending down to pet your feline. “Mmm, that’s a funny coincidence! Her name’s Elle.” 

Seven’s goofy demeanor dropped into a much more serious one. “You’re lying! There’s no way! M-My friend, his cat’s name is Elizabeth!” 

You threw your hands up, bursting into a fit of laughter. You looked up at the flickering lights, wishing you’d remembered to turn them off before you left the house. That was your worst bad habit. Seven noticed the flickering as well, but ignored it, just standing awkwardly as he awaited your next steps. You turned the main light off and led him to your living room, sitting on your sofa. He plopped down on the furniture and spotted the remote on the coffee table, passing it to you. You thanked him and turned the television on, the bright light illuminating the living space. 

“Whatcha wanna watch?” You asked, turning to Netflix. 

“Uh, scary movie? Or Anime? I could care less.” You nodded and searched for a horror film that you could both agree on, settling the remote on the coffee table. Not too long had passed before you were both cuddled up together, reclining the sofa so that neither of you would roll off by accident. You didn’t think you’d get so comfortable with a stranger, but there you were watching a horror movie with him while his arms were wrapped around your hips, pulling you into his touch. You’d be a fibber if you said you didn’t like it. 

“I hope you know I meant what I said. You’re cool as hell.” 

“Could say the same for you, Mr. Seven.” 

“Oh,” he teased, his lips close to your ear. “Am I Mister now?” 

“Depends. Do you wanna be called that?” 

Seven snickered, rubbing circles into your waist. A low groan escaped your lips, a small laugh following. Neither of you even cared about the movie anymore. 

“I guess that depends on what type of Mister you’re thinking of.” 

Chills ran down your spine and you smiled, slowly grinding yourself onto him. Seven’s breath hitched in his throat, a small chuckle following after. 

“That’s how we’re playing?” You didn’t respond, simply moaning while you continued grinding yourself against him. Seven gripped your hips tighter, rocking his hips against your ass. He pushed your hair out of the way, pressing his lips to the back of your neck. You let out a yelp, melting into his touch while his hips continued to move against your ass. You could feel him hardening, his tongue flicking against your skin. 

Seven groaned, sucking marks onto your innocent neck while you felt yourself getting lost in his touch. 

“Can I fuck you?” He whispered, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips again. You nodded, and before you knew it, he’d instantly had you on your back. 

“You know,” he started, grinning down at your defenseless body. “I did not think this was how tonight would play out. But I’m so glad it did.” He unbuckled his pants, pulling his cock free from his underwear. His cock sprung free, precum already bubbling at the tip. You licked your lips at the sight, feeling a surge of wetness rush through your pussy, wetting your white underwear. You shut your eyes tightly, your fingers finding their way to your underwear as something in your forced you to circle your clit through your panties. 

Seven spat on his hand, the mixture of saliva and precum slicking his cock enough. “That’s hot. Keep going.” He whispered, stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You whimpered, finger rubbing circles into your clothed clit while he jerked his hard cock, groaning at the your vulnerability. 

“Yeah, that’s good. So good. C’mon, take those pretty little panties off.” You weren’t hesitant at all, quickly sliding the panties down your ass. You’d never been fucked on your sofa before, oddly enough. You’d been fucked almost everywhere in your house but the time to do it on your sofa never really came up. You were glad, though, it was so hard to get comfortable on the black leather furniture. 

“Let me see that pretty pussy,” he muttered, pulling your dress up to your neck, the pink bra exposed under the fabric. Seven gripped your clothed tit before kneeling between your legs, leaning forward. 

“You’re so pretty. Your body’s so damn pretty. Everything about it. I don’t even remember his name, but he’s fuckin’ missing out.” 

He circled his wet tip against your clit, gathering some of your slick on his cock. You cried out. 

“Please, Seven, hurry.” 

“Are you rushing me? Bad girl.” He kissed the side of your lip before pushing against your entrance, sliding into the tight heat. You gasped, tears forming in your eyes from the painful stretch. It was probably helpful to mention how big Seven was. You almost couldn’t see from the constantly fading light of the television, but he was a good size. One you didn’t expect from someone so thin and lanky. Not that you weren’t appreciative or anything. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist as he bottomed out inside of you, waiting for a moment to move. 

“Tight.” He choked out, pulling out halfway before slamming back into you, grunting with each thrust. His thrusts were sloppy and uncoordinated, but you could care less, clenching around his constantly moving length. You cried out his name, tears falling from your eyes. 

Seven found a good pace to fuck you at, rocking his hips inside of you slowly while you adjusted to his large cock, pussy fluttering over him.

“Fuck yeah, baby. So good. So, so good. I could cum on the spot feeling you grip me like this.” 

You looked into his eyes, slamming your lips against his waiting ones without any thinking. Seven moaned into the exchange, pounding you as hard as he could while his tongue pushed past your opened lips, both of your tongues intertwined. Your velvet walls gripped his cock harder, causing the man to begin moaning, hips stuttering while he fucked into you. You felt like you were already on edge, rocking your hips against his. Your ears perked up and you yelped hearing your phone ring. 

Seven’s eyes darted over to the contact name, sweat dripping down his glistening forehead. 

‘Akira 💕…’ 

“Answer it,” he snarled, his pace never haulting. He was quicker, harder, as he fucked his cock into you, head constantly hitting against your special spot. You couldn’t help but moan, tears drying on your cheeks while fire spread inside of you, the overwhelming need to cum urging you on. You didn’t question him, simply reaching over to the coffee table to grab the device, answering it. 

“Yeah?” You put him on speaker. 

Seven’s eyes were cut, focusing on the conversation while pounding you. He gripped your waist tightly, stifling a moan. 

“Sorry I couldn’t make it. I don’t know, I don’t think we should be seeing each other anymore.” 

Your heart dropped at his words and your stomach churned. 

“Fuck yeah,” Seven moaned loudly, throwing his head back. His hands travelled lower, gripping your ass while his cock hit the hilt of your pussy over and over again. You were so close, almost there. 

“Who’s that?” Akira squeaked. 

“No one,” you moaned out, forgetting to even hold back by now. 

“Tell him. Tell him how good you feel. Go ahead, naughty girl. Tell him.” 

You felt more tears well in your eyes, fresh liquid dripping to your damp cheeks. 

“I feel so good, Seven. Please fuck me. Harder, please. So close. I’m gonna cum. Please,” you managed to get out, fucking yourself on his cock while holding the phone in your hand. Ever thrust felt like energy being launched into your body, electricity shocking you each time your pussy clenched on his cock, walls constantly being jabbed at. It felt so good. You were almost there. One more thrust. 

“I want you to feel good. Want you to feel so fucking good. Do you feel good? You feel good with my cock inside you? Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Gonna cum, Seven. Close.” 

“Okay. That’s okay. Go ahead, I’m close too, pretty girl.” By now, Akira had hung up, his own heart dropping to his feet as well. As long as he understood how you felt, it was okay. You were fine. You’d be fine like this. 

He sped up, sporadically whimpering sweet nothings as he pounded you through your orgasm, pussy fluttering around his length while you came, cum coating his dick. Seven screamed out, burying himself to the hilt inside of you while he came, shooting his load into your gaping heat. He collapsed on top of you, both of your breathing uneven. 

“Good. That was good,” you found a way to croak out, releasing your grip on his waist. He didn’t respond, only kissing your sweaty neck. 

“Good girl.” He said, cock still buried inside of you. You flushed at the nickname, whimpering. He waited again to speak when you’d both caught your breath, bodies still, simply enjoying the presence of the other. The television was still on, the movie was over now. It had probably been over for a while. 

“Maybe it's not the right time for this, but can I take you out next week?

[queenshelby]

The Singer – Part Four

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,483

Warning: Smut, Semi Public Sex

 ***The Interview***

It’s been three weeks since Kurt’s stunt and things between you and Cillian couldn’t have been better. Whilst you struggled with comments from the press and the public initially, calling you a home wrecker and making an issue out of the age gap between you, it brought you and Cillian closer together and he even defended your relationship in a recent interview.

Whilst you still hadn’t talked about what you were and where you were at, it was clear to you that you were officially dating. But no one really took you seriously. You were seen as Cillian’s midlife crisis.

Cillian cared very little about the press, ignoring the bad rumours and assuring you that none of this mattered.

He was right. It didn’t matter. People were still buying your new album which, under contract, was unfortunately being produced by Kurt. Under the same contract, you were also obliged to engage in interviews and promotional events.

Whilst you were very eager to simply break your contract, Cillian reasoned with you. He was sensible and you were impulsive.

He assured you that breaking the contract would simply mean more bad press and you engaged Cillian’s agent to help you with media engagements. He seemed to take a sensible approach and asked interviewers to not ask you any personal questions.

But this didn’t always work out, especially when you had an interview scheduled with a London based program whose interviewer just loved to get under your skin.  

This interviewer managed to ask you about your alleged affair by referring to some lyrics of one of your songs.

‘Look, my private life is private and I will not discuss my relationship on this show. But what I can assure you is that there was no affair. We both had separated from our partners when we got involved with each other. The song you are referring to was written over a year ago and doesn’t reflect any of my personal experiences. It was written for a movie and just like the movie, it’s fictional’ you explained in response of the interviewer’s intrusive question.

‘There are many other songs you’ve written which come to mind indicating that you do in fact prefer to be with men who are older than you. These songs were all well received but your relationship is not. How do you feel about this?’ the interviewer than asked, not giving up.

‘Again, the songs are fictional, but my private life is not. That might be the issue. It’s all good if it’s fictional but as soon as it’s not, people get curious. Perhaps there is a lack of understanding surrounding relationships that aren’t the norm. Maybe people’s perceptions will change over time. I certainly hope so. After all, there are so many relationships in the history of the world where people have large age gaps and I believe that every adult has the right to date whoever they want without being criticised about it’ you explained before taking a short pause. ‘Anyway, I would prefer if we could chat about my music now rather than my private life. That’s why I am here’ you said bluntly.

The interviewer finally backed off after your request and your agent had already called in, putting the producers of the show into their place.

Cillian had also listened to the interview and texted you, making sure that you were alright and telling you that he thought that your response was well placed.

Kurt, on the other hand, was once again annoyed with you and sent you a rude text message shortly after the interview and he couldn’t help but try to get under your and Cillian’s skin.

***The Function***

Later that day, the studio was hosting a release party to celebrate your new album which Kurt had organised at the theatre complex function rooms.

It was a beautiful venue but you knew that Kurt would be attending which could end up being a complete nightmare.

This was also the first official event which you were attending together with Cillian and you raised the question whether this meant that you are his girlfriend now.

‘I suppose….I don’t know…do you want me to be your boyfriend?’ Cillian chuckled as he buttoned up his shirt.

‘I would love you to be my boyfriend’ you giggled before giving him a kiss and asking him to zip up your dress.

‘Well, I suppose I am officially off the market again then’ Cillian chuckled before returning the kiss, which was also when you heard the taxi pull up in front of his house.

Your agent has taken the liberty to invite several producers to the party, much to the dislike of Kurt. Kurt was even more irritated when you finally arrived, together with Cillian who was holding your hand.

‘Y/N…Cillian’ Kurt said greeting you both, wanting to shake Cillian’s hand but all he got in return was Cillian raising his eyebrow.

‘Kurt’ you responded with an almost evil grin on your face and just before Kurt leaned in and kissed you on the cheek.

You didn’t stay to talk to him and it wasn’t long until you were inundated by other producers, wanting to talk to you.

‘I told you, she can be a real slut’ Kurt said to Cillian as Cillian gave you some space to mingle, unbothered by the attention you were receiving by several of the producers your agent had invited.

‘And you wonder why she left you?’ Cillian chuckled, thinking that Kurt is an absolute douche.

‘You know she sucked my cock just before I signed her’ Kurt said with a smug face and it was obvious to Cillian that he had been taking some coke again.

‘Nice talk’ Cillian laughed before walking away, getting himself a drink and talking to some of the other artists.

After about thirty minutes you sought out Cillian who was standing next to the buffet talking to two female artists and you decided to give him the same space he had given you. Jealousy wasn’t your thing and you knew there was no need for it.

Eventually, however, you received a text message from him which said nothing but ‘HELP’, making you giggle. He obviously didn’t enjoy himself talking to these women and was being polite, hanging out with them and engaging into some small talk.

Just as you were going to get Cillian away, Kurt approached you.

‘Found a new producer yet?’ he asked and you responded with a quick ‘maybe’.

‘You won’t get the same sweet deal you had with me Love…’ Kurt went on to say, causing you to laugh.

‘You remember that night in the record studio together?’ he asked sheepishly.

‘Yes, I do. You lasted a total of ten minutes which was quite something Kurt’ you chuckled.

‘And I bet these were the best ten minutes of your life’ Kurt said just as Cillian approached you, listening into the conversation and taking in a deep breath.

‘Would you please give us a minute’ Cillian asked somewhat angrily.

‘I will…because my date is here’ Kurt said sheepishly.

‘What, did you hire an escort?’ Cillian asked, looking over to the woman Kurt pointed at.

‘She’s a model’ Kurt explained, not realising that Cillian was being sarcastic.

‘Of course she is’ Cillian chuckled before saying bye to him and this is when you broke out laughing.

‘He’s got the IQ of an ape’ Cillian huffed as Kurt walked away, shaking his head in disbelieve.

‘You are being so polite sweetheart’ you giggled.

‘I am sorry, but he just makes me fucking angry. You know what he said earlier?’ Cillian said but, before he could tell you, you crashed his lips onto yours.

‘Are you angry?’ you asked as your lips drifted apart.

‘At Kurt? Yes’ Cillian said.

‘Good. Come with me’ you winked as you pulled him away from the function.

Without questions, Cillian followed you upstairs where the offices of the producers were located.

‘I saw you talking to these women earlier…tell me about them’ you said as you led Cillian towards the back of the office area.

‘Sorry Y/N, I don’t know much about them, they just…’ Cillian said but, before he could finish his sentence, you interrupted him with a passionate kiss in front of the door leading to Kurt’s office.

‘Don’t apologise, just tell me. I think there is nothing more sexy than seeing other women want what I have’ you smirked, your hand moving to his crotch.

‘Seriously?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod and bite your lips suggestively.

‘Well, unlike you, I don’t like seeing other men want what is mine now, especially not this smug bastard’ Cillian said before pressing his lips back onto yours for an urgent kiss.

‘Please tell me this makes you angry’ you giggled as you pulled a white card out of your handbag.

‘Of course it makes me angry and, if I wouldn’t be so fucking complacent, I would punch him’ Cillian chuckled just as he watched you swipe the card through the black machine on Kurt’s office door before putting in the PIN on the security keyboard.

‘I’ve got a better idea’ you smirked as you pulled Cillian into Kurt’s office.

‘What are you doing?’ Cillian asked and all you did in response was looking over to Kurt’s study desk.

Cillian’s eyes lid up and, before you knew it, you felt your lower back pushed against the desk while Cillian lifted up your dress and pushed aside your panties.

‘You are so wet’ Cillian growled with excitement as, without warning, he pushed two of his fingers deep inside you, causing you to moan loudly. He was so aroused and rock hard, ready to take you, but he wanted to play with you first.

‘You do this to me Cillian’ you moaned, throwing your head back and taking in the sensation of his fingers deep inside your tight entrance.

Cillian continued to slide his fingers back and forth within your wet folds, hearing you moan and gasp at the sensation. He then slipped his middle finger inside you. You cried in pleasure. He loved pleasing you like this and started to thrust his fingers inside you faster and faster, watching your body pulsate with his movements.

He hit your g-spot over and over again and you knew what this meant. He was doing this on purpose, making sure to mark what is his and, in the process of it, possibly also mark the carpet in Kurt’s office if he kept going like this.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you cried, your eyes closed as he was manoeuvring his fingers tilted up to get the pleasure spot over and over again until your legs began to shake.

‘You like that?’ Cillian asked softly as he continued thrusting his finger into you and you barely managed to nod.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked at him as he confidently smiled at you. His unabashed confidence was turning you on even more. He knew that no one else ever made you cum like this.

As he continued to finger you, sending waves of pleasure over your body, you could feel yourself getting close to your orgasm and just as you were about to scream in pleasure, Cillian pushed his other hand over your mouth firmly as you came over his fingers, a wet puddle immediately forming on the office floor.

While your head was still spinning and without allowing you to come down from your high, Cillian spun you around and pushed you down against the cold oak table.

He certainly was angry and you loved every moment of it.

With one swift movement, he lifted up your dress again and pushed down your panties.

‘Spread your legs’ he instructed and you obliged, hearing his belt unbuckle and the zipper of his jeans opening.

‘That’s good’ he said as he was positioning his cock directly at your entrance, ready to push in.

Your heart started pounding with excitement and with one hard and powerful thrust and one loud groan Cillian buried himself deep inside you.

You shrieked at the sensation as he immediately and forcefully bottomed out inside of you. It took your breath away and he gave you no chance to adjust as he began to thrust in and out of you.

‘You are all mine’ Cillian moaned as he hit your cervix with the tip of his cock for what felt like the hundred’s time.

‘I am yours Cillian, oh god yes, fuck me hard’ you moaned.

Cillian grunted with each thrust, getting more aroused by the second as he was taking you over Kurt’s desk.

Each thrust was igniting a fire in you. It felt so good and you cried at the inexplicable pleasure consuming you, calling Cillian’s name multiple times.

Cillian was grabbing your thighs, prying them apart, and opening you up to him even more. He thrusted deeper and harder into you in this position.

You cried, your nails digging into the wood of Kurt’s desk while your pussy clapped against Cillian with each thrust.

‘I am coming Cillian, fuck’ you moaned and just, like that, another loud moan escaped you and your orgasm washed over you, your legs quivering and shaking as a result.

Cillian exhaled and groaned loudly, leaning in and filling you with his warm cum at the same time. You felt yourself fill up with his seed, exhaling at the sensation. He stayed inside you for a minute, then slowly pulled out. He watched his cum flow out of your opening ecstatically, running down your thighs.

You then turned around and grabbed one of the tissues from Kurt’s desk, wiping your legs clean before throwing the tissue into the bin.

His desk was covered with some of your sweat and juiced and Cillian looked at your flushed, glistening, beautiful face as you were still panting and kissed you softly on the lips.

‘Should we clean this up?’ Cillian chuckled as he closed up his belt.

‘Oh god no’ you smirked before collecting a good amount of Cillian’s cum that had pooled inside you and then licking your finger suggestively before pulling your panties back up.

‘Let’s get back to the party and say goodbye, shall we?’ you giggled.

Cillian followed you and the first person you chose to say goodbye to was Kurt, which surprised Cillian.

Giving Kurt a big kiss on his cheek, you wished him a pleasant evening and Cillian’s chin dropped immediately.

He couldn’t help it but laugh, shake Kurt’s hand, with the same hand that had pleasured you just minutes earlier, and wish him a pleasant night also.

‘You are so fucking bad, you know that?’ Cillian laughed later in the taxi on your way home.

‘He deserved it’ you giggled.

   Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee​@cloudofdisney​ @missymurphy1985​​ @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey janelongxox  @uchihacumdump

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby   @chocolatehalo

[sserpente]

A/N: Surprise! Here’s the thing—I don’t normally write sub!Loki at all. However, since Christmas is a time of gifting and making wishes come true and it has been requested quite a few times in the past, I decided to take on an anon request. I can’t write fully-fledged sub!Loki, I just can’t… so I hope this will do! There’s another anon request in there too. I hope you all enjoy it!

Words: 2357 Warnings: sub!Loki-ish, fluff, smut

Additional NSFW warnings: light bondage, oral, usage of anal sex toy

-

You cursed when you stubbed your toe on the door, shutting it aggressively all the while flinging your bag into the corner like it was the reason for all of your problems. You were trembling, anger and exhaustion gnawing at your guts.

When you let out a desperate sigh as you kicked off your winter boots, Loki tilted his head. He had appeared in the threshold leading to the living room on your floor—an entire floor on Stark Tower, all to yourself. Today, however, this very circumstance did not cheer you up in the slightest.

“A good evening to you too, pet.” He said, eyeing you with curiosity.

“I bloody hate working in retail!” You spat in response. “Why are people being so idiotic, can you tell me that? Oh, I want a refund on this obviously used item which I don’t even have the receipt for, oh, can’t you hurry up I need to catch a train—I had hours to spend on browsing but I want to pay for this immediately or I’m just gonna leave, oh, can you recommend a gift for my niece, I barely know her or her interests but surely you’ll find a gift for her because I am too lazy to use my own brain?” You were fuming. Loki chuckled.

“My dear… breathe.” He was never this gentle with any of the other Avengers but then again, you were the only one he had taken a romantic and sexual interest in. You sighed when he approached you to pull you into a tight embrace, forcing you to calm down for him. Your hands wrapped around his middle almost automatically, allowing him to lift you off the ground and carry you into your bedroom.

Loki spent most of his time in your flat here in Stark Tower. Here, he wasn’t always under suspicion of plotting world domination again—and in fact, all he did was reading, stealing your sweets and learning more about Midgardian culture, first and foremost Christmas. Last week, you had forced him through all Santa Clause films and he had actually ended up enjoying them in the end.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you pressed your face against his chest, letting his hand stroke over your head. Perhaps you should finally let the cat out of the bag and tell the others about your relationship. Loki could be so sweet… and he loved being pampered by you, even if you made sure to take your time teasing him thoroughly first.

“Is there a particular reason you left me a gift this morning?” He changed the topic. Oh yes. You had almost forgotten about this. You had shoved part of Loki’s Christmas gift into his green and gold socket above your bed before you had left this morning. It was Christmas Eve and since you would be spending the 25th with the other Avengers, you had decided that him receiving part of his gift in private would be more appropriate.

“Me?” You asked, playing innocent. “That must have been Santa, Lokes.”

“Are you going to tell me what exactly it is?” He probed. You giggled, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“I was hoping you’d ask. Where did you put it?” Loki conjured it up seemingly out of thin air—you’d never grow tired of seeing him use his seidr—and handed you a black plastic packaging which contained an equally black butt plug with a prostate massager for men. Loki and you had recently had a conversation about toys for men as opposed to women only and much to your surprise, he had shown quite the interest in the topic. The faces of the Avengers would have been priceless, had you put it under the Christmas tree for him along with his main present.

You grinned. “Lie down on the bed for me—and magic your clothes off, will you?” Loki smiled at your request. He did not often let you command him around like that—but when he did he knew you needed it, to have some fun with his arousal for you to distract yourself from work and other sorrows, much like today. You shouldn’t be in such a bad mood on Christmas Eve, after all.

Still smiling gently, he did as he was told and then slightly raised his eyebrows for you to make the next move. You winked at him after admiring his semi-hard cock for a bit, disappearing in the bathroom. Once you had returned, hands washed, clothes changed and sex toy sanitised properly, you got to work. Loki’s eyebrows shot up all the way when you produced the bondage rope you kept in the drawer right next to the bed and then climbed on the bed as well, straddling his strong thighs.

“Please? Let me play.” You pouted. Loki sighed—allowing you to tie his hands together and then to the bedpost. Both of you were very well aware that he could rip himself free at any time—it was more a matter of it looking pretty and downright hot to have the God of Mischief tied up and at your mercy, at least hypothetically.

He shifted on the mattress just a little when you reached for the toy again which you had already coated in a thick layer of strawberry lube and brought it to his anus. It was designed to directly stimulate his prostate and you positively couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

“What are you doing?” His question was a warning; reminding you it was a privilege he was playing submissive for you and that the… situation could change at any moment. You swallowed, your own arousal pooling in your knickers like a waterfall.

“Trust me? It will feel good, I promise.”

Loki sighed once more—and gasped when you slowly and carefully worked the butt plug inside of his rear. His cock twitched, joyful anticipation mixing with impatience. By the time it was snugly in place, he was as hard as rock and moaned upon you wrapping your hand around him, giving him a few strokes with your hands partially still covered in the strawberry lube you had used.

Loki bucked his hips almost immediately, growling when you drew your hand away again. You chuckled. “You look pretty adorable like that, you know… desperate for pleasure…”

He growled in response. “You will be the one desperate for pleasure and begging me for my touch if you keep this up for long.” He threatened. Your giggle intensified. You felt so much better already.

“Just you wait.” You said, pressing the button of the small bullet vibrator inserted into the butt plug. Loki tensed up when it hummed to life, sending continuous vibrations through his anus and stimulating his prostate.

Then, taking mercy on him, your hand returned to his impressive length, jerking and pleading for attention. A few drops of precum had already formed on his red tip—it was too tempting to ignore. Unceremoniously, you bent down and closed your lips around him, licking over his slit and lapping up all he had to give for now.

Loki tugged at his restraints. A little more strength and he’d tear them apart altogether and he was barely just containing himself anymore already. Knowing he could stop this anytime and pin you down underneath him to just take what he desired for some reason only fuelled his arousal. He bucked his hips in an attempt to plunge himself deeper into your mouth but you were being particularly relentless today. He growled once more, watching how a grin formed on your lips. With a smacking sound, you released him again, continuing to stroke him all the while the prostate massager kept vibrating inside of his rear.

“Does that feel good?” You asked, almost timidly. Loki was an experienced lover, you knew this much. How many Asgardian women had had the pleasure to learn what had earned him the nickname silver tongue you did not want to know and yet, even though his confidence in bed and knowledge of pleasing a woman was exciting, at the very same time it intimidated you.

Loki nodded, blue eyes locked with yours. “Yes. Keep going, my dear.” It almost sounded like an order—one you’d do better not to defy. You took it as an invitation and pressed the button of the vibrator again.

The setting was on high now—but not high enough to tip him over the edge just yet. You needed to hear him whimper first. You had managed once, a few weeks back when Loki had allowed you to tie him up and tease him for a while for the very first time. In the end, it had resulted in him flipping you around and fucking you roughly from behind so hard you had been unable to walk the next day. Your cunt clenched upon remembering how deliciously sore you had felt. It was a risk you were willing to take again.

Loki bucked his hips once more, thrusting up in a steadier rhythm now and desperate for more friction… which gave you another idea. Biting your lower lip, you stood from the bed and peeled off the comfy trousers you had changed into, right along with your underwear. If only Loki could see the wet spot on them as you stepped out of them, he would be grinning like a cat who got the cream but fortunately for you, you were in charge tonight—or at least, for now.

He eyed you like a hungry wolf, growling in an animalistic manner as soon as your slick pussy lips rubbed against his tip and you massaged your clit with it for a while before slowly, painfully slow, sinking down on him and sheathing his cock deep inside of you. You moaned, throwing your head back. Riding him always felt so much deeper than when he was on top… unless he hauled your legs over his shoulders that was.

“More…” He choked out, his blue gaze getting almost feverish, about to turn him into a mindless beast. You stilled, not moving an inch and just kept him inside of you all the while the vibrator in his rear kept stimulating him. He gritted his teeth when you failed to move, bucking up his hips in a desperate attempt to get you to ride him but you decided to take your time. Leaning forward, you began covering his chest and neck in light kisses, tongue darting out every now and then to taste him. Loki was already sweating, his limbs shaking and you knew then just how badly he needed his release. The restraints keeping his hands above his head on the bedpost gave a suspicious tearing sound as he thrust up into you once more.

He was close. He was so close. Smiling, you kissed him and moved back up and into a sitting position. Your fingers found the switch of the vibrator, turning the setting even higher. There was no need for you to move and ride him anymore. Loki came by himself and finally, gave you the whimper you had so desired to hear from him. Your lips parted when he starting twitching inside of you, spilling himself with a groan. His warm seed coated your walls, his cock jerking until he was all but spent. Once he had caught his breath, you turned off the vibrator… for now.

“Get that lovely quim of yours up here.” He ordered with a hoarse voice, once more raising the question whether you had ever truly been in charge of his pleasure. But who were you to defy him? Biting your lower lip, you let him slide out of you, whimpering at the loss of feeling so deliciously full, inched forward until your most private parts were only inches from his mouth and then carefully sat again, your thighs to either side of his head.

Loki wasted no time. Humming contently, he licked over your slit and clit, suckling on your outer lips and circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue pressing against it, massaging it, until you dug your fingers into his raven hair, urging him on. You were so incredibly wet for him it wouldn’t take you long to gush all over him either and so you did. Loki ate you out like you were his last meal, pampering your clit until your body couldn’t take it anymore and you fell, seeing stars as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in pure pleasure. You only realised once you lifted yourself off his face because he would not stop that he had wrapped his fingers around the bars of the top of the bed. The bondage rope was torn apart beyond repair.

You smiled, allowing him you wrap you in his arms as he flipped you both around so you came to lie on the bed more comfortably.

“Feeling more relaxed now, my dear?” He asked with a sly smile.

“Much better. Thank you.” Loki hummed in response. “I’m pretty hungry… how about an early Christmas dinner? Just the two of us, without the others.”

“That sounds promising. But first I will need you to get that thing out of me.” He said, eliciting a devilish grin from you.

“I think I’m gonna leave that thing where it is for now. You’ll get a taste of your own medicine. Remember that golden butt plug you made me wear on Christmas last year? Revenge is sweet. So…” You paused. “Are you going to help me cook?”

Loki’s expression darkened, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. “You are going to remove that right now.”

“Nope,” you announced smugly, freeing yourself from his embrace and climbing off the mattress. “I’ll be in the kitchen, whenever you’re ready.”

Truth be told, you never made it to the kitchen. Loki was after you in a matter of seconds, dragged you back into bed and made sure you came to regret teasing him like that. Oh, and you most definitely lost count after at least five more orgasms.

-

A/N: There’s a hint in there for another smutty Loki Christmas Imagine soon to come. Can you find it? ;-)

If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥ 

[garetthawke]

I'll never forget my first pride.

I can't remember my actual age, but it was in the range of 10 to 13 I think. my parents had dragged me to a Pride festival, and walked across the street from the main event, across where the lines were drawn, to where a sea of people in red shirts that read "god has a better way" tried to drown out the celebration with speakers blasting christian music, and shouting and loud praying.

the leaders pulled all us kids to the side and gave us the spiel. they told us how the rainbow had been stolen from us, and that these people were tricked by the devil and just needed prayer, but that if we didn't save them, they were going to hell.

I rolled my eyes because I already didn't believe in god, and although I barely knew what being gay was, I knew my parents were usually on the Wrong side of things, and I shouldn't be siding with them.

"We aren't allowed over there if we're wearing the red shirts," the leaders told us, "so we're sending people over in secret without them so you can pass out tracts and pray for people. they won't talk to us, but they'll talk to the kids. does anyone want to volunteer?"

the people in red shirts disgusted me. the people on the other side of the line were cheering and having fun. I raised my hand.

we were supposed to go in groups with young adults, to make sure we were doing what we were supposed to be. I wandered off the minute I could and stood nervously at the edge of a crowd, watching on as people went by, happy and unbothered by the protests across the street. I felt a little pride myself in tricking the protestors into giving up a witness spot to me, when I was going to smile on and think profanities at god instead.

there was an older woman standing outside the crowd too. she asked if I was here with anyone, a girlfriend maybe? I said no, my parents were across the street. she nodded, and said she was here with her kid. a daughter, that she came to support, but couldn't keep up with in the crowd.

I almost cried. I told her how amazing that was, because I couldn't imagine my mother showing support like that to me over anything, much less something as serious as Being Gay. I imagined if I was gay, and at a pride event just like now, but this time because I Belong.

I knew automatically that my mother, without a doubt, would still be in the same place, across the street.

I got hungry after a bit, and tried to find a good food truck. I had a little money and I was unused to being on my own like this, but I didn't want to go back to the Other Side. I knew now without a shadow of a doubt, this was the Good side and that was the Bad side.

as I was eating the gyro I got, there was a stream of red shirted protestors trickling through; I had reached the end of the boundaries, and the protestors were allowed in here. I backed up a little, spotting my dad among them. I didn't want him to tell me to go back.

there was a line of women closing ranks around the Pride attendees, separating them from the protesters as they walked through. they spread their arms out and told every person the protesters spoke to that they were not obligated to respond, they could walk away and not engage.

my dad spotted me back, and made a beeline over. he couldn't cross over because a butch lesbian stood between us. I didn't know what those words meant, but I never forgot the buttons she was wearing.

he tried to tell me that it was time to go. "you're not obligated to speak to him," the butch said, cutting him off and edging further between us. I smiled at her, a little in wonderment. no one had ever told me that I didn't have to speak to my parents, or do anything other than blindly obey them. I watched my dad get held behind a line by a woman half his height, with no intention on letting him get to me, and I smiled and walked away.

I didn't have a clue who I was then, and I wouldn't for a good few years to come. but I never forgot the supportive mother, who symbolized to me everything a mother should be, that mine, for all her religious self righteousness, would never hold a candle to. I never forgot that she was the person I wanted to be, and my mother was the person I did not want to be.

I never forgot the butch who stood between me and my dad, and for the first time ever, put the idea in my head that I was ALLOWED to make my own choices in my beliefs, and made me feel protected in a way I hadn't known I needed.

the image of her standing between me and my dad, being a physical barrier to protect me against any potential threat, that inspired the image of who I admired and wanted to become. it inspired the version of me who could stand up to my dad - to the point that I could hold my ground and educate him enough that over a decade later, he walked side by side with me at a pride festival, with no intent of witnessing to or condemning anybody.

pride month may be over, but the impact this month and these events can have is so damn important. I became who I am because of two people I met at a pride festival. I'll never forget.