#I've brought home worse things
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Your magic item is a mirror. For some reason, the person holding this mirror can never see themselves. The family member who brought it into the family claims it was pulled out of a lake on a fishing trip.
... you know, actually... I might just have something like this in my tackle box...
#You'd never know it was a mirror at first#just something odd and shiny that you found in the water#I've brought home worse things#I'm sure it's fine
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If only I had a healthy relationship with sports and felt comfortable in my body! Alas, I was a lonely and weird kid for most of my school years.
#and by that i mean that school sport class is only fun if you have friends to spend it with#otherwise it's an exercise in showing you how much you don't fit in#the locker rooms. the fact you had to pair up or find groups for every single thing.#and i know it's all about friends because in my last year/last two years of highschool and sports classes i HAD friends!#and immediately it felt less bad#in ping pong when i kept missing the ball and having to pick it up across the room:#with a random girl it was humiliating with my friend i didn't even notice after the first few times#when we were - the closest american equivalent is runing the mile#when we did that in middle school i was with someone else who didn't have friends. it was perfunctory and lonely.#in highschool we spent our breaks chatting and my friends cheered on me loudly from the sidelines when they'd already finished#it made a world of difference but it was TOO LATE.#because by then by relationship with my body was already irremediably fucked up :)#and i've never been fat! and i'm white! and i'm abled!#but every time i failed every time i was awkward or clumsy it felt worse and worse#every opportunity i had of changing at home or in the toilet i took it#i'd rather stay in sports clothes than change with everyone else#1) because i don't like wearing bras dammit 2) because i am SLOW at changing#and it's fine! but in a school context where the teacher is waiting for you to lock the room it's not#also if you don't have class afterwards people leave without you if you're not friends :(#ANYWAY. brought to you by me trying to unfuck my back by doing core strength exercises and Suffering#thankfully it is late at night in my room and there could not be less pressure#wow i have a ramble tag now
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bark, bark, bark
hybrid!john "soap" mactavish
cw: hybrid!au, smut/pwp, heat/rut, breeding, pregnancy, enemies-to-lovers, dog!reader, dog!john, owner!simon, doggy style filth
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? request your own!
"well, aren't ya just a dream." john said as he sat at the kitchen table. his tail swayed from side to side as he looked at you.
you were standing close to your new owner, simon riley. you had a pretty pink collar on and your ears were flat against your head. your arms were crossed and you looked annoyed.
john or 'soap' as simon called him, was a dog. as were you. while your breed was defined and regal. you were certain that simon found john behind a dumpster of a fish n' chips place. but you'd have to get along with your fellow hybrid if you didn't want to end up being re-homed.
john just thought you were perfect, but in as sneering kind of way. almost mocking as he pulled at your floppy ears and your hair. he even got you by the collar once and brought you to the tiled floor of the farmhouse the three of you lived in.
you'd often yip and growl at one another in the living room as you fought over the remote. which often left you both scolded by your owner. if you were on your knees one last time in front of simon while the larger man wagged a finger at you, you were going to put the mutt's throat between your teeth and clamp down.
but then it happened. something you had dreaded, you thought at least simon would've gotten you some birth control shots before you heat took over. you felt some embarrassed, like a fucking idiot because you were leaking all over the bed you slept in.
hybrids slept in beds like any other human, but while simon kept his minimal. yours was covered in all manners of pillows and stuffed animals. which gave you ample room to find something to put between your legs. you covered your mouth with your head as you got on your knees with the pillow between your legs.
you rutted against it, hoping that the fabric would catch your clit through your shorts. you whimpered a little but tightened your hand across your mouth. you hoped that john didn't catch the smell of your heat. the last thing you wanted was for that stupid dog to be smelling your pussy like the animal he was.
"fuck." you muttered to yourself as you found you couldn't get enough friction from the pillow. you peeled of your shorts with the crotch of your panties soaked, and put your legs on either side of the pillow once more and rutted against the edge.
you squeaked a little and panted around your hand as you rolled your hips. heat raced through your body and electricity was shot through your clit from the sensation of the pillow against it. you could only imagine the stain that would be left on the pillow by the time you were done.
your toes curled as you continued to move, you were getting lost in your head as you moved across the fabric. you let out the smalles tnoises and couldn't even stop to hear if you could hear anyone outside your door.
it was why you didn't hear the stealthy john come into your room, or creep towards you in the dark. his nose was in the air as the alluring scent of fertile hybrid filled his brain. you didn't even know he was so close until he pounced onto the bed and shoved you into the mountain of soft objects.
you yelped and tried to kick your legs out in defense, but he kept you pinned rather tightly to the bed. his nose was in your neck as he took a healthy inhale. he groaned and you felt his cock twitch against your bare ass.
you knew your pussy was getting the front of his shorts soaked.
"what do we have here?" he asked, already a little drunk from the scent, "is my girl fuckin' her pillows? bein' bad." he growled against your neck as he pushed you further into the bed, causing your hips to raise higher.
"john!" you yelped.
"that's it, doll. my precious girl. i know i tease ya, but this is worse than anything i've ever done." he said with a dark edge to his tone, "ruttin' in your bed all alone. with your mate."
you melted at the word, you hated him but the lust was clotting your brain from coherent thought. all you could feel about was the heat against you. the larger hybrid up against you.
"please, john." you whimpered, "you can't breed me. get simon."
he kissed at your neck, his fangs nipped against the back of it, he continued to rub up against you, "i don't think so, doll. i think you need me more than you need simon." his voice was low, "you need some cock." he chuckled, "my cock."
you whimpered, "please."
"don't worry, i promise i was a easy pup to rear." he chuckled lowly, "you, me and baby, quite the trio. maybe if we're lucky, we'll have two boys."
you whimpered, in your state the thought sounded alluring. you couldn't imagine alife without john in that moment. even though he bullied you, you couldn't imagine him NOT fucking you in that moment.
"ya like that don't ya, girlie. you like the idea of you being all pregnant with my pups. you'd be a lovely girl like that." he chuckled as he pulled down his shorts under his cock, freeing it.
his cock was impressive, it was large with heavy balls that showed that he'd be a good breeder. he was impressed with it and hoped it would fit in your tight virgin hole.
"here it comes, love." he said, "now be good for me, i want to feel every inch in ya." he chuckled as he guided his cock into your sweet hole, effectively ruining your virginity. he sank into it slowly and felt the air leave his chest.
"ah!" you whimpered as you buried your head further into the stuffed animals on your bed. you exhaled deeply to keep yourself relaxed so you didn't hurt yourself. but his cock was already deep in you.
"holy shit. i wished you went into heat sooner." he growled, "you feel amazin', doll. i could fuck ya forever, give ya a whole bunch of litters to take care of." he chuckled as he puffed his chest out with pride. his cock was a tight fit in you, but it felt so good. you were so wet that he slid in easily, there was no struggle to fuck his little wife.
wife, that was a term he would ever think that he'd call you. but what else would you be? a slut? his fuck hole?" the thought made him chuckle as he started to thrust in and out of you.
your eyes rolled back, his cock soothed the fire in your belly. it was what the primal part of your brain needed. you needed cock, specically HIS cock. it was the only thing that you'd allow in you. you didn't NEED simon, you just needed john to fuck the discomfort away!
easy as that, and john was happily able to do that for you. he would make you feel nice and good. he held you down by your head and you felt hot all over as he thrusted up into you. he growled and tried not to make too much noise to alert his owned.
your breathing was shaky as you clutched onto a pillow under your head. you panted heavily as you felt hot all over. this heat was almost painful and it ran like a current in your body. you felt skittish but drowning in the depths of pleasure.
"ah! please! ah!" you panted, "john, please."
"i got ya, lass." he chuckled, "don't worry. i'll make it all better. don't worry about anything." he continued to thrust in and out of you. he felt hot all over too. his head was clouded with the scent of your want for him.
his heart raced as he felt his t-shirt cling to his chest as he continued to move. you tried to meet his pace but your brain was so empty that you could barely keep up. you had never felt this full before. you whimpered so pathetically, john just knew that he would have to take care of you. after all that was what a husband did.
your lover, your husband, the father to your many, many pups. that was a title he could be proud of. it only fueled him to bury his cock deeper inside of you. the bed squeaked and john breathed heavily through his nose as his hips slapped against your ass.
"pretty thing." he purred, "bein' such a bitch all this time. but i knew better, i knew you wanted me." he chuckled a little, proud of himself that he got to bed the little birdie that has been in his home the past couple of months.
"john." you said lazily, "it feels so good." you panted wildly. you felt like there was a flat line in your head, everything kind of rolled off your tongue without thinking much of it. ypur cutn was soaked, you could feel the wetness all the way down to the back fo your thighs.
"so good." he said, "simon is gonna know how good you were for me. once you're all swollen with my puppies. keep ya nice and fat with litter after litter. i'll make sure nothin' happens to them, our little family." he panted wildly like the dog he was. he threw his head back as his hips bounced against you. his cock pushed in and out of your aching hole.
he would douse the fire in your soul, he'll simmer you down. but in exchange you'll get morning sickness and in nine months squirming hybrids in your arms. you moaned at the thought, you knew you were close to your climax.
"mine. got it?" he said, less like a question and more like a statement as he pulled your head away from the pillows. you gasped for air after being in the heat of the pillows.
you moaned loudly as you felt yourself climax around his cock. further making a mess. he growled in happiness as he gave one last thrust of his hips and he finished inside of you.
the noise must've woken up simon. because when he went into your room, he found you going at it once more. he sighed and made a note to get you some plan b in the morning. he didn't need more puppies roaming the halls of the farmhouse.
he also reminded himself to get you some birth control shots to make sure this didn't happen again.
-
simon's plan failed. it failed pretty badly. because by the time he got the birth control. it was too late, you were pregnant with john's baby. simon was thankful that it was just ONE.
at least you two got along...
"goodamnit, soap!" you shrieked.
there was a commotion in the kitchen. simon sighed and got up from his seat. he saw one very pregnant hybrid and the one who got her pregnant in the kitchen. you two were snapping jaws at one another.
"i wish you'd go back to fuckin'." he grumbled.
#bunny babbles#call of duty smut#soap call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#cod hybrid au#hybrid au#cod modern warfare#soap cod#cod#cod smut#soap smut#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish smut#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x you#john soap x reader#soap mactavish#soap x reader#reader insert#puppy au#call of duty soap#soap
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Hi I sent in a request for prompts 43 and 25 for angst but forgot to and that I wanted it to be Eddie Munson x reader and I’m so sorry
"I’m not coming home, don’t look for me.”
“don’t make me choose” ��why? Because you’d pick her?”
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
⚠️angst ( since I've been told my angst needs warnings ;)
Pick me, choose me, love me
Eddie and Y/N had been best friends since first grade. They grew up together and did everything together. Everyone in their life thought by the time they graduated they would have figured out they were in love with each other.
But that didn't happen. They were still best friends, oblivious to how they felt for one another. They lived in a small apartment, both needing a life outside the trailer park.
Y/N went to school, and worked at a bar for extra cash. Eddie worked with Wayne and spent his extra cash at said bar. He always kept her company while she worked, and kept an eye on how men were around her. He wouldn't dare let anyone touch her.
She was a little more aware than he was. She couldn't deny that Eddie grew into a very handsome man, with a sexy charm. His smile and sly winks could win over any girl, including her. She never believed Eddie saw her as anything more than a friend, so she kept her feelings to herself. No way was she going to lose Eddie.
But that meant she had to suffer when he flirted with girls during her shift. Ignore the pain in her heart when they snuck off to the bathrooms. Or the night he brought a girl home, as she turned up the living room TV when his door slammed.
He seemed to be good in bed, from the countless girls she was forced to listen to. She tried to ignore how jealous she was, hating the way girls left in the morning satisfied and bruised.
She thought the random hookups were bad, but it was so much worse when he got a girlfriend. Her name was Kathy, and she was a bitch. Not that Eddie noticed, he worshipped the ground she walked on. Kathy and Y/N never got along, but girls knowing they both wanted the same thing from Eddie. Kathy was smug since she was the winner.
Tensions got high when Y/N told Eddie she saw Kathy going into the bathroom with a guy during her shift. A huge fight broke out and Eddie left for a few days. Kathy said Y/N made it all up and Eddie fell for it. Even though Y/N wanted to kick him out, she called a truce. Both agree to leave it in the past.
Trouble didn't stop there, it seemed Kathy brought in new drama weekly. But Y/N tried her best to keep her friendship with Eddie alive. Even when he made it so damn hard.
~~~
"Alright, everything is set up. Don't you forget to show up!" Steve said, pointing a stern finger at Eddie.
Eddie rolled his eyes, "you think I'm going to skip out on my best friend's birthday?"
"I'm just saying." Steve said as he held his arms up.
Y/N was turning twenty two and Steve planned a huge surprise party for her. All their friends would be there, her family, and most importantly Eddie.
Steve was a good friend of Y/N's. And he could easily tell she was in love with the metal head. He knew Kathy was bad news but Eddie was never one to listen.
~
Y/N jumped as she opened the door, Steve sent her an address to meet him at for a birthday dinner. She wore her best dress, a little short and a perfect amount of tightness. Her hair was styled and she wore her best make-up. She was in awe as she took in the huge crowd of people.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" Steve screamed, along with everyone. But he was front and center, arms open as she raced into them. She crushed him in a bear hug and he spun her around.
He had to stop himself from sticking his nose in her neck. While Y/N pinned after Eddie, Steve pinned after her. But he knew her heart was with Eddie and he respected that. Still, his heart raced in the dress she wore.
"You look gorgeous," he whispered in her ear. She tried to push back tears, feeling so loved.
"Thank you for this!" She squealed. She took her time walking around the party, hugging everyone. She made sure to talk to every person for a good amount of time before moving on.
But as more time passed, she couldn't ignore that Eddie was nowhere to be found.
She hadn't seen him all day, and it broke her heart. She spent every birthday with him since she met him, and he was nowhere to be seen the whole day. But she tried to focus on the people who did show up.
After a few drinks, she let Eddie go, fully enjoying her party.
~
It was 11pm and Eddie still wasn't home. Her party ended about two hours ago, she played with her empty beer bottle at the counter as she waited for Eddie to walk in.
She perked up when she heard the door unlock and Eddie walked in.
"Hey," he said
"Hi," she said, her sadness was clear in her voice. Eddie sighed as he heard it.
"Look, sweetheart, I'm sorry." He whispered as he walked towards the table. His puppy eyes looked at her nervously.
"Just answer one question," she sighed. Eddie gulped when she looked up at him, her tear-stained face and red eyes told him she had been crying for a while. "Were you with Kathy?"
"Yes," Eddie said honestly
Y/N scoffed and stood up. She shook her head as she pushed in her stool.
"Y/N-"
"Eddie, don't," she snapped, Eddie stepped back. He never heard her sound so angry towards him. "Just stop"
Eddie watched as more tears fell down her face.
"Don't shut me out. Talk to me." Eddie pleaded. She sniffled as she looked up at his sorry face. His puppy eyes and the pout on his lips. But she couldn't push aside how she felt just because he looked like he got kicked.
"I don't want to talk to you," she said. She glared at him as she went to walk past him. But his arm shot out and stopped her.
"Well too bad because I want to talk to you," Eddie snapped. His temper was always short. "Look, I know I fucked up but let me apologize so we can move on."
Y/N yanked her arm away from him. Angirly standing face to face with him. Her fired eyes burned into his, challenging him.
"My best friend ditched me on my fucking birthday for some girl, and you think a shitty apology is going to fix that?"
"Girlfriend" Eddie corrected
Y/N let out a laugh, with no humor behind it. "I don't care what she is. You ditched me, you ignored me, and my heart shattered when I realized you weren't there and you wouldn't show up."
"I planned to be there, and I wanted to be. But Kathy needed-"
"I NEEDED YOU!" Y/N screamed. Eddie backed up as he clenched his jaw. "I bet she made up some fake lie to keep you occupied. She plays a game and you keep allowing yourself to be the pawn."
Eddie growled as she spoke. "I'm not a pawn and It's not a game. You don't know what she is going through."
"NOTHING!" she screamed again. "NOTHING IS WRONG WITH HER. SHE JUST WANTED TO KEEP YOU AWAY FROM ME"
This time Eddie laughed, scoffing as he angrily rubbed his chin.
"Get over yourself," he muttered
"Excuse me?" Y/N replied
"I said get over yourself. You're not a threat to her. She already told me about this little more than friend love you have for me. For your sake, I'll continue to act like I don't know. But you need to start respecting my fucking relationship." He demanded, his voice low and deep. He was pissed.
Y/N felt the color drain from her face. She gulped as she stared at him. He knew?
"How long?" Y/N whispered, her head down as she clenched her eyes in embarrassment. He knew and he never said a thing. He didn't like her back.
"What?" Eddie asked
"How long did you know?" she said through clenched teeth, looking up at him in the eye.
"Three months" Eddie whispered, feeling a twig of guilt as Y/N looked betrayed. He wasn't sure what heartbreak looked like but he swore he saw it on her face.
"What if I don't?" Y/N challenged, and she crossed her arms. Her eyes back to being heated as she stiffened out her jaw. "What if I don't want to respect your fucking relationship?"
This caused Eddie to back down
"You have to," He pleaded, "I want both of you in my life."
She ignored how the hurt puppy look came back. She was done allowing him to hurt her. He knew how she felt and never said a thing. He betrayed her and threw it at her in her weakest moment.
"I don't think that's possible" Y/N admitted
"No no," Eddie panicked, "It is. You've always been here, you have to be here." His voice cracked as he started drowning in his fear.
"You're right, I've always been here. But have you?" Her eyes watered as she felt more tears building. Eddie tried to close his eyes to avoid those eyes but it was all he could see. "I'm sorry, Eddie but I can't put myself through that. The decision is yours."
"Please don't make me have to choose." Eddie cried, his bottom lip trembling. He reached forward, desperately holding her face as he cried. "Please"
"Why? Because you'll pick her?" Y/N whimpered, she could see the answer in his eyes. He picked her a thousand times before, of course, he'd pick her now.
"I-I---I" Eddie stuttered. Almost like he didn't want to say it out loud. He didn't want to admit it.
Y/N bit her lip to try to hold back another sob. She grabbed his hands, pulled them off of her face, and dropped them at his sides. Eddie began to mumble no over and over, knowing what it meant. But she ignored his pleas and cries, just like he did hers.
She quietly moved passed him and walked out.
~
She made it to Steve's doorstep in seconds. Crashing into his arms as she sobbed. As Steve always did, he picked up her broken pieces.
After she calmed down, Steve moved her to his bedroom. He was downstairs, lying on the couch. The room was dark and silent, leaving Y/N stuck in her head.
"Darling?"
She jumped as Steve's voice came from behind her. She turned around and silently asked what he needed.
He didn't say anything as he passed the phone over.
Y/N sighed and took the phone. She already knew who it was. Without waiting for him to speak, she said "I’m not coming home, don’t wait for me.” And ended the call.
Steve reached forward and softly rubbed her shoulder for comfort. He pressed a small kiss to her forehead and pulled away. He started to walk out of the room, but right before he was gone she called out to him.
"Can I ask for a favor?" she asked, her voice dry and cracked from all the crying she did.
"Anything for you," Steve said, his voice so soft and silky. She could see so much emotion in his eyes. And she knew he meant his words.
"Can you hold me?"
Steve didn't waste a single breath as he walked over to the bed. He got in bed without another word, and Y/N turned around. Her back to his chest as he scooped her in his arms. He was cautious at first, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
But she backed further into him, no space left as their skin touched. He tightened his arms and she sighed in pleasure.
"Thank you" she whispered, feeling the need to sleep taking over her body. The touch of Steve instantly calmed her.
He smiled and placed his chin on her head. He closed his eyes and prayed he'd remember this feeling for the rest of his life.
Y/N silently cried as she stared ahead.
Where was she supposed to go when Eddie was the only home she ever had?
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#ashwhowrites
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I have a thing for.. | Furin First Year Six
Featuring: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Mitsuki Kiryu, Akihiko Nirei, Kyotaro Sugishita, and Taiga Tsugeura
Warnings: Sakura's being Sakura, Reader for Suo's part is heavily implied to be a female/fem-bodied ( they're on their period ), nicknames are thrown around in majority of these ( ex. love, pretty, babe, etc. ), author has only seen the anime as of right now so characters may be a bit ( or very ) ooc! That said, read at your own volition!
A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!! 🎃 I've been obsessed with Windbreaker these past few days and I finally got the inspo to write about it! >.< Thank you @maruflix! Because of them and their amazing fics, I was able to motivate myself enough to get this done. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little scenario thing I put together! 🙈
The Oblivious Type - Sakura Haruka
A sigh slips from your lips, briefly breaking the tranquil silence that was brought upon you and your boyfriend shortly after your walk home began.
Your half-in-half haired love of your life paid you no mind as it seems that he was in his own world and looking straight ahead without so much as a glance your way. And to that, you found yourself pouting.
You sigh again, this time much louder and much more exasperated, like a bad actor in a play. Alas, it seems the ears attached to that pretty little head of his was all for show.
Guess you have to be more direct.
"I'm kinda hungry," You commented, your head—which was comfortably resting on his shoulder as you walked—tilting upwards some more so that you can better gaze at him. Sakura, at last, looks you way, and as usual, he locks eyes with you only to immediately look away, his face suddenly flushed crimson. You found the corner of your lips beginning to lift at the sight..only for them to fall moments later when Sakura fixes his lips to say, "So what? Why are you tellin' me?"
You could feel a wave of fire building in your chest at his response, yet part of you still had hope for him. And so, you huffed out a small, "Nevermind," waited a bit, and tried again. This time saying, "It's kinda chilly out here, don't you think?"
From this angle, you were able to catch a clear sight of his mismatched-colored brows knit into a split line. His eyes avoid yours and you felt his arm began to move to sling off his jacket.
..Or at least, you thought he was going to give you his jacket. Instead, he moved his arm to scratch the back of his head as he grumbled in that growly voice of his, "If you're cold, you should've brought a jacket or something. It's not my problem."
And that officially set you ablaze beyond recovery. As swiftly as a snap of a finger, your entire demeanor flipped and a deep frown embedded itself on your supple skin.
"Agh! Forget this!" You snatched your arm away roughly, nearly yanking Sakura into you in the process, and began to stomp off while grumbling under your breath about the whole ordeal you created.
"What's your problem?" Sakura shouted after you, his pace speeding up to catch up to you.
"You! You dense dummy!" You yelled back to which the dense dummy in question responded, "Hey! Who you callin' a dummy?!"
A loud groan booms throughout the street, "Just shut up and go away! I'm walking myself home!"
And to this day, Sakura has no idea what happened that evening or why his friends laughed ( or gave him pitying looks ) the next day when he told them about it.
The Prince Charming Type - Suo Hayato
A drawled whine slips from the damsel in their bed as a wave of pain struck their gut. It was that time of the month yet again, and like always, the first day was kicking their ass—quite literally at times.
After waking up to a crime scene this morning and being forced to strip their bed of it's many sheets along with their pajamas, they had been just about immobilized by abdominal pains. You could imagine how much of a pain it was to force themselves into the shower and make their bed.
And to make a bad situation worse is that they're cravings were through the roof! They wanted everything, soba, chips, chocolate, omurice rice, dorayaki—everything!
Needless to say that you've spent the entire morning curled up in bed trying not to throw up from the sheer pain while dreading your entire existence..and that's when he appeared.
With that suave smile of his, the beauty you had the honor to call your boyfriend—and savior—waltzed in your room with a large bag in hand.
"Morning, love," He cooed in that ever so serene voice of his, "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit," You grumbled to which you earned the wonderful melody of his chuckle.
"I figured. I checked the calendar," He said, his implications becoming further clear as he sets the large bag at the edge of your bed and took out—
"My heating pad!" You cried out as your upper half shot up—an action you instantly regretted as your shout vibrated throughout your entire being, further enraging your body along with the sharp movement you just performed and ultimately causing you to keel over on your bed.
"You left it at my house," Suo replied—answering the silent question that started floating in the air after you let out a whiny groan—as he swiftly unraveled it and handed it to you to place on your stomach before plugging it up.
"I also noticed that you ran out of pain medicine so I got you some," He mentioned, before following up with, "Would you like to take some now or after you eat?"
"After I eat?" You parroted, confusion dripping off your words. And, with that gorgeous smile of his serving as your only hint, his hand disappeared into the bag. Returning to the surface shortly after with another smaller bag in tow.
"Is that—?" "Your favorite takeout? Yes, it is," He neared you once again, his free arm coming down to gently help you into a sitting position before swapping hands to place the takeout on your lap and adding, "No need to wonder what's inside, I got your usual."
Gods, what did you do to bag such a man? The thought popped into your head at the same time a smile popped onto your face and your hand began eagerly digging in the bag like a starved man.
"Where would I be without you..?" You mumbled before popping the first bite of your food in your mouth, your rough movements causing a bit of sauce to splatter across the corner of your mouth, making you look rather..unladylike. Not that you've been exactly the classiest person today.
Regardless of your appearance, Suo looked at you as if you were the one who created the word beautiful, gazing at you oh so lovingly as he took a napkin from your bag and used it to gently swipe the stain away. And, despite your rather rhetorical utterance, Suo answers your earlier question with a teasing, "Probably still curled up in pain and whining like some hurt little kitten."
You hum in agreement, mouth having already been stuffed with another large bite of food as relief began to surface at the heat that finally enveloped your stomach.
"I'll go and throw your bloody sheets and clothes in the washing machine," He said, leaving a chaste kiss atop your head before spinning on his heel.
"How did you know—" "Just had a feeling," He shushed, smoothly putting the topic to rest as he disappeared into your hallway..only to immediately poke his head back in the doorway.
"Oh, and when I get back, I'll be all yours," He said, "We can watch your favorite cartoons if you'd like."
And like a little kid, you beam, "Yes please!" Gods do you wish you could give a thank you kiss to whoever raised this glorious man!
The Romantic Type - Mitsuki Kiryu
As soon as you got home, Kiryu wrapped up the game he was playing rather quickly—despite having been so invested in it moments prior—and went to your side on you guys' favorite beanbag chair.
Like the cat he was, he curled up to you—who had immediately leaned against him upon him sitting down—and caged you with his arms, which was practically a blanket from how baggy the cloth that surrounded them were..
"How was your day, beautiful..?" He hummed lightly in your ear, his chin resting against your shoulder—which he noticed was quite stiff, but didn't comment on it.
A raspy sigh leaves your lips, one filled with nothing but frustration, "Rough," Was all you told him and his hand was already trailing over to rub at your side, the other entangling itself in the hand closest to it.
"Wanna talk about? Or, do you want to just skip to the part where I make you feel better?" He asks, his question coming off as a silent invitation as he started placing kisses along your shoulder blade, saying in between pecks, "Doing both is also an option. I'm really good at multi-tasking."
And in a matter of a minute, he already had you giggling like a some lovestruck schoolgirl. The burning irritation and headache from the earlier events that occurred was still there nonetheless.
"Whichever you want to do.. I don't really care I just..want to stay like this for as long as possible," You told him, and with a hum of confirmation from him, he begins to shift.
He moves you to one leg, his hand leaving yours and trailing up your arm, your shoulder, until it reaches your jawline where he stops to gently push it in his direction. Your head softly rolled, and the moment the two of you locked eyes, his lips were on your skin.
He started up high; his lips connecting with your temple where he could feel the vein angrily pulsating. He then kisses down your face..
"Sorry you had such a bad day, pretty.." He said in a hushed tone, his lashes tickling your skin as his lips took the time to cover the entirety of your cheek in little pecks before moving to plant a kiss to your nose.
"If I could, I'd take all this irritation and pain from your cute little head," He moves to your other cheek, leaving kisses as best he can from the angle he's at before moving over to your jaw, his hands rubbing firm circles into your lower back, firmly palming and messaging at the tensing muscle, "Since I can't though, I'll just make you feel better some other way."
"We could play a game," He suggests, his assault on your flustered face pausing so he can look you in the eye, "I can cook you a meal..or would you prefer it if I ordered aomething instead? That way, we can snuggle like this and you can take your anger out on something."
You hum. Truth be told, you had stopped processing his words as soon as he left the first kiss on your skin. That said, at the cool call of your name, you dumbly responded with a dreamy-sorta-sounding sigh..which went straight to his heart.
Honestly, if he was able to bring himself to move his hands away from you, he'd take out his phone, snap a picture, and add it to his collection of other saved pictures of you.
"Nevermind," He chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your lips at last, his lips trembling against yours from his attempt at trying to conceal his laughter, "Let's just make out, yeah? We can think later.."
The Idiot In Love Type - Akihiko Nirei
Joyous giggles burst from cherry-colored lips, it's buoyancy and airiness serving as a stark contrast to the dull, loud chatter that fills the background. It was like music to his ears. Like an angel singing or a siren's call.
Regardless of what it reminded him of, he'd be put under the same spell over and over nevertheless.
It was, at last, the end of the week which meant that it was finally time for you and Nirei's biweekly date night. This time around, you wanted to treat Nirei to something extra special..and what better way to treat your man than to take him out to a fancy restuarant?
It took a minute to walk all the way here in the outfit you were wearing, but it was worth every blister and every dime! The staff has given the two of you nothing but ten star quality service and the food is to die for!
..Alas, you couldn't help but think this was a mistake. Quickly into the night, your adorable boyfriend had been struck silent for reasons unknown and had simply been staring at you. To avoid awkward tension from arising, you've been rambling on about your week only to get a couple of hums and nods from him.
You knew a scene like this one wasn't exactly Nirei's cup of tea, but you didn't think he'd be this turned off by the atmosphere..
And so, after having your fork between your teeth for so long that you're sure you left a permenant dent in the shape of your teeth in it, you set it atop your plate and called Nirei's name. He hums as he's been doing for the past hour now and it makes your lips quirk down along with your brows.
"Hey, Nirei. Are you..enjoying yourself?" You asked, and as if he was snapped out of a spell by the sweet symphony of your voice, he blinks and his mouth falls open to let out a stammering, "H- Huh?"
"You don't have to lie," You reassure, but your tone sounds more and more defeated with every word you utter. And your face..it reminds Nirei of a sad kitten and it's causing his heart to ache, "I can call a waiter over and we can leave."
"What are you saying?" He asks, his face giving away the genuine bewilderment he feels towards your sudden exclamation, "Why would we leave? We only just got our food.. I- Is something wrong?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" And that furthers his growing panic as he stutters out, "Wh- What do you mean?" And thankfully, you notice his sudden distress to which you reach your hand across the table cloth—being careful to avoid his glass—as you offer your open palm to him.
And without hesitation, he latches his hand onto yours, allowing you to curl your fingers around the edge of his hand while your thumb strokes the supple skin.
"It's nothing you did, hun'," You reassured, "I just noticed that you seemed a little..distant this evening. You haven't talked much at all and you've just been staring and—" You sigh softly, pausing for a moment to collect yourself. Nirei waits, not saying a word the entire time.
"..I just.. I just assumed that you don't like it here..and that's completely okay by the way! There's always the next date, right?"
"What are you talking about?" He says, his brows frowning impossibly deeper into his freckled skin, "I love this, really! I'm having a great time!"
And this time, you're the one giving him confusing glances and making sounds, asking, "I'm serious Nirei, you don't have to lie to me It's okay if you're uncomfortable! I could tell.. You were really quiet and staring like you were.."
And without hesitation, Nirei blurts out, "Well that's because I think you're really pretty." And a curtain of silence as cast over your table.
Well, it did for a moment. Once Nirei actually processed what he said, he let out a small squeak and slapped his hand over his mouth, looking absolutely mortified at the face of your gentle, awestruck expression.
"I- I'm sorry I probably shouldn't have said that I mean it's true that you're really pretty but now probably wasn't the best time to say that and I'm so so sorry if I creeped you out or—" "Is that why you were acting like that?"
"Huh? ..Well, yeah..I- I guess you could say that.." He bumbles like an idiot as his eyes drink in your every micro expression. The slight twitch of the inner corners of your brows, your trembling lips, the growing stain of red beginning at the tip of your ears which is only noticeable after you pushed some strands of your hair back and scratched at your cheek..
You should be apart of a painting in a museum. It'd be an honor to be the painter of such a piece..though, he doesn't believe he'd be able to capture your radiance like other, far more skilled people probably could.
And before he knew it, he was mumbling nonsense, "I find you appealing in every way. From your smile to your laugh to your marks and blemishes.. Everything about you is so alluring that I just..get lost in thought about it, y'know?"
And you were struck silent once again. Before his regret causes him to shoot out a bazillion apologies per minute, however, you recover and slowly bring his hand up to your face. Nirei watches with flushed cheeks as you place a bashful kiss to his knuckles.
"My sweet prince..'had me worried for a second.." You mumbled against his skin, letting his hand go as you let out a breathy chuckle and your own hands come up to cover part of your face, "Now I feel silly.."
And just like that, he was under your spell once again, never to break out of it until your eyes reluctantly released him later that evening..
He's not complaining.
The Quiet Chivalric Type - Kyotaro Sugishita
A stuttering breath slips through your chattering teeth as a rather strong, chilling wind nicks at your skin and blows through your hair.
This was the last time you were ever going to listen to your tv.
You see, that morning you had a bit of a dilemma; you had no idea what you wanted to wear today. Usually you'd just throw something on, but since your boyfriend decided he wanted to spend the entire day out with you, you wanted to dress up for him.
It wasn't the best decision you've made, but you decided to consult in someone you thought would never lie to you; the weatherman. He said, and you quote, "It'll be warm throughout the day with low chances of showers!"
Turns out he was full of shit. As the day went on, the sky began to gray and cloud little by little, until, guess what, it. freaking. rained! Not a few droplets either, it was literally pouring buckets for, like, an hour!
And now, you walk alongside your boyfriend, your cute summer-theme outfit thoroughly drenched, your arms caged around your chest, and you shivering and shaking like a leaf.
If you get sick you swear to the gods above you'll—!
Dampened warmth suddenly spreads around your being. It was like the sun had given you a hug or more like you had been enveloped in blankets after a nice, long shower; complete heaven on earth. What's more is that this warmth has a scent to it. A rather pleasant aroma that reminds you of..
Your eyes drift, widening at the sight of Sugishita now stripped down to his gray tee, his Bofurin jacket—the symbol that stood for all that he idolizes—now draped over your shoulder.
"'What are you doing? You got soaked too. At this rate, you'll get sick.." Despite your protests, your grip on his jacket only tightened, your finger fiddling with one of the buttons. And like your body, it seemed that your boyfriend was just as unwilling to accept the jacket back, a semi-loud, gruff huff slipping through the thin opening his lips parted to create.
And at the face of such stubborn kindness, who are you to refuse?
With a smile beginning to form on your face, you lower your arms from your chest, one hand quickly coming up to cover your exposed body with the jacket while the other reached for his hand..
"You're a lifesaver, 'Taro. Thanks for this," You told him, stopping the two of you momentarily so that you can plant a quick kiss to his cheek before continuing your journey home once again.
..And as you predicted, your poor boyfriend had caught a real bad cold overnight and was bedridden with a fever by morning. You felt absolutely horrible as you tended to him with his freshly washed jacket hanging off your arms..
The Athletic Golden Retriever Type - Taiga Tsugeura
"Ninety six... Ninety seven..." Loud shouts resonate throughout the cozy little living room, it's volume shaking the liquid of all drinks in the vicinity. One is sure that if it wasn't for the furniture being as sturdy as it was, the boom of his voice would rattle them to the point of collapsing.
All that's to say that you didn't mind the noise. As you sat comfortably crisscross on your favorite seat—which so happened to be your boyfriend's back side—your eyes were trained on your phone, eyes following every movement the dancers on the tiny screen made as their voices were blasted along with a catchy tune throughout your bulky headphones.
Even with such deafening noise surrounding your earlobes, you still gave a part of your attention to the man, who was currently pushing you up and down as if you were a mere dumbbell, below you. That said, through the music, you were still able to hear the gruff yell of Tsugeura as he yells, "Ninety nine... One hundred!"
As he eased himself to the ground for the nth time that day, you released him of your weight by sliding off his back and onto your furry rug. You then immediately reached to flick your headphones off your ears—ignoring the fact that your music was so loud that you could still hear the music as clear as day despite the headphones no longer being on your ears—before your hand closest to him came up to ruffle his hair.
"Good job, baby," You praised, "Want your protein shake now?" And to that your boyfriend nods his head up and down like some excitable pup to which you gingerly awarded him with the banana-flavored protein shake.
As he sat up and began gulping down his already half-drunken drink, you watch in silence. Patiently waiting for him to finish his treat before speaking again.
"Is that all for your afternoon workout?" You asked him to which your boyfriend loudly responded, "Yeah! Thanks for the help, babe! The extra weight really did the trick!"
"Am I really that heavy?" You questioned, beginning to frown at the thought. You were never one to exactly care about your weight, but to be so heavy that your buff ass partner likes to use you as a giant weight is a little..
Tsugeura blinks, looking rather bemused as he replies, "Not at all! You're practically a feather!" And despite the sheer amount of confidence in his words, you found yourself skeptical.
"Then if I'm so light, why make me do all of this? I mean, you make me sit on you while you do push ups and I sit on your shoulders when you do your squats," You mentioned and without missing a beat, he says with a big grin plastering itself on his face, "Well, it gives me the excuse to spend time with you!"
You freeze, and as his words process in your head, you feel your face grow warmer and warmer. It seems your boyfriend noticed it, but didn't understand why you were suddenly so abash. That said, he tilts his head to the side as he stares at you.
You're sure that if he had ears, they'd be flopping to the side along with his head. It'd truly be an adorable sight.
"Hey, what's wrong? Why'd you suddenly go silent? You're turning all red too."
"It's nothing. I was just..thinking about some stuff."
Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx
#wind breaker#wind breaker nii satoru#wind breaker x reader#windbreaker fluff#sakura haruka x reader#sakura haruka#suo hayato x reader#suo hayato#kiryu mitsuki x reader#kiryu mitsuki#akihiko nirei x reader#nirei akihiko#sugishita kyotaro x reader#kyotaro sugishita#taiga tsugeura x reader#taiga tsugeura
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Never in my life did I think that re-tweeting resources for SA, and supporting victims would be considered problematic or performative.
I should not have to bare this, but I'm going to tell just one of my stories, because I need you to understand where I'm coming from. TW // Sexual Harassment
--
When I was 15, I had my wisdom teeth removed. I wanted to avoid using the pain medication they prescribed. I struggle a lot with sensory issues, medications and substances made it worse.
However, my surgery was for impacted teeth, and only two days in one of my stitches fell out. I was in so much pain, and couldn't eat solids w/ out pain for up to three weeks.
So, a week into my recovery, one of my friends invites me to their house. They were having our friend group over, it was just a little bonfire get together kinda thing. I took my pain meds a few hours prior, and only half a dose, but I was out of it to some degree, and somehow still in pain.
I was sitting on a lawn chair outside, when one of my close friends came over and asked to sit on my lap. Honestly, I said yes at first, because this was my childhood friend, someone I trusted, and I thought our relationship was incredibly platonic. Then he started to shift/grind about in my lap, and I started to feel things of theirs I did not want to. They made a noise that deeply unsettled me, and I told him to get off, they didn't. It was only when I told them that he accidently triggered the emergency call shortcut on my phone (it was in the pocket of the lawn chair, yes they were moving that much and I was moving trying to push him off) that he finally got up.
I was bewildered, and a bit confused, and also embarrassed that my phone nearly called 911. I claimed I wasn't feeling well, and went home early.
That was the first time someone touched me in a remotely sexual way, but I didn't dare to label it until I talked to my therapist. It made me dwell on a lot of experiences with this person as well. How obsessed they were with being taller than me, how often they'd grab me and force me to see if they were stronger than me. At the time, I was in a friend group of predominately non-men, and they were all friends with this person.
However, when I told them about this, when I expressed the discomfort it brought me. I was brushed off. "He's just like that!" oh "He probably didn't mean it" etc.
I didn't feel comfortable in the same room as this person. My friends would continue to invite them to hang outs. One of my other friends told everyone about what happened without my permission. I started having breakdowns in my classes with him. I had panic attacks all the time. I felt as if I had to continue this façade of being nice to him, or else I would lose my friends of years and years.
I was happy when covid started, because for the first time I had breathing room, but by then so much of my trust was dismantled.
Due to my friends association with this person, and the fact that not being their friend excluded me. I eventually got over it, and told myself I'd grown past it.
Three months ago, this same person admitted to me they hold extreme grudges against me, that they projected their "mommy issues" on to me, and quite literally said the words, "Yeah yeah, you're a woman who's outspoken and challenged me and that bothers me yeah yeah." in regards to that. They said it with sarcasm, like it was something they knew, and their mother was reminding them for the 12th time.
--
I bring this all up, not to make you feel guilty, but to discuss the harm of not supporting victims, not listening to them. It puts them in a position of isolation, and in a position to potentially be hurt again.
So yeah, I'm gonna be a little upset when people say I'm being "performative" about supporting victims of sexual harassment and SA. I'm not doing this because it benefits me, in fact it's caused a lot of backlash, horrible dms, and very triggering memories.
I'm doing it because I was once not heard, and i've sat with Caiti behind the scenes for months watching her lose passion for something she loved (content creation).
I didn't do this because I'm secretly sniveling behind the scenes tapping my fingers praying on peoples downfall. I'm not a Disney villain dude lmfao.
Honestly, this narrative that is being pushed, that people are doing it "because it benefits them" is quite ironic, considering most of the people talked about within the last 72 hours were under Wilbur's weird ass apology doing just that.
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate how people are okay with this narrative, the misogynist undertones of it. I've seen people admit that they didn't like me or my friends the entire time, while simultaneously "calling us out" about this, so I ask you,
Are you calling us? Because it benefits your motives? Your feelings?
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lens of ice | yjh | one
pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓
part one | part two (final)
The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.
Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.
"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"
Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice.
Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.
"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"
The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.
"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists"
"When can I have the surgery?"
You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.
"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"
Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.
"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"
That was enough to get your attention.
"Why?"
Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.
The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.
"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"
It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.
"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"
Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.
"Well, good luck to you"
"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"
You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.
"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"
"Nothing will change"
A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.
"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"
Jihoon simply shook his head at you.
"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"
With a salute Jihoon left.
"Fuck"
You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock.
"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.
Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.
"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"
Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.
"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"
Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.
"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"
Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.
"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.
A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium.
And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan?
"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed"
Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.
"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"
Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him.
"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.
With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you.
"Will you need to film my family?"
"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life"
Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.
"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"
You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so.
Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.
Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second.
In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you��d somehow believe him.
And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.
“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.
“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.
“Fine”
“Just fine?”
You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.
“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”
Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.
Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.
Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.
“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.
You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.
“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.
You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.
“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”
“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”
Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.
“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”
“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.
You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.
“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”
The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.
You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.
You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.
The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.
And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.
Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.
"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.
You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.
You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.
"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"
Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.
Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.
Option b was actually the only possible choice.
“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”
Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.
“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.
“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.
You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.
“What if I say something and regret it later?”
It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.
“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.
“Can we throw it all away and start again?”
Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.
“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"
Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.
“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”
With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.
Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.
“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”
“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”
He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.
“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”
“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”
He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.
“No, the ultimate goal is to win”
As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.
You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.
“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”
“Hi”
The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.
His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.
“Can we film it?” You asked.
Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.
For Jeonghan, that was never the case.
Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.
Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.
As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.
“You said you would film anything and everything.”
You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.
In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.
“Do you think it’s important?”
You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.
“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”
“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it
You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.
Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary.
You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either.
While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten.
It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that.
However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?
You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him.
It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain.
Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes.
"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?" someone asked.
You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you.
"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed.
"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?"
"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?"
"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?"
The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.
Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him.
You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head.
“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried
“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad.
That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you.
“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse.
“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”
By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot.
The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake.
As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.
The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.
Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.
Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.
What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.
You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.
In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.
You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.
Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.
You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.
It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.
"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”
You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.
Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?
There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.
It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.
That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?
Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.
Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling.
It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua.
It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments.
His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little.
“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.
Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels.
“I think she will,” Jeonghan said.
Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit.
“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”
Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough.
“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”
“Am I not a real person?”
The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.
“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”
Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment
“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”
Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.
“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”
Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.
“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”
After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.
Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours.
The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much.
It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics.
And he only had one change left.
So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted.
He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to.
“Are you nervous?” you asked him.
Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because.
However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring.
He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.
“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”
You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.
“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”
He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore.
Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.
“Do you think I can still do it?”
There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see.
Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment.
“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”
You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way.
Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.
"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan.
He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it.
Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.
"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.
Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile.
"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"
Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin.
"Come on, humor me"
You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.
"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”
Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.
Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.
Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.
It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.
“Where did you see those pictures?”
“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”
One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.
He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.
“I thought we were getting to know each other”.
Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.
There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.
And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.
Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.
“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.
You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.
“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”
Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.
“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”
You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.
In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.
The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.
For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.
You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.
It was become just you and your job.
Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.
“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”
You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.
He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?
Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.
He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.
Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.
He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.
Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.
“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.
He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.
"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.
Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.
Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.
"I realized I don't know anything about you"
You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.
"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"
He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.
"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"
You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.
At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.
"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.
"Whatever you want to share"
The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.
"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"
You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"
For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.
You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."
You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.
Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.
"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"
You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.
"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"
You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed.
Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.
So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.
Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.
"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.
Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.
Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.
"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"
Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.
"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"
The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.
You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.
"You have to rest"
You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.
“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”
Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.
Finally, you were alone.
“You have to rest,” you said again.
You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.
“I need to get it right”
"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"
A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.
"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”
You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else.
“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”
Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours.
“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”
You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around.
So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land.
Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him.
“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”
Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing.
“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.
You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.
Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.
But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.
“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.
You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.
“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”
You saw it and shook your head again.
“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.
As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.
Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.
“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”
“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”
You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.
From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.
With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.
He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.
“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”
Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.
With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,
“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.
Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.
“I won’t let you fall”
The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you.
You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.
When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink.
“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”
Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course.
His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.
“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”
The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.
“I think we should stop here”
You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.
You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.
"I thought that…"
“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.
You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.
But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.
Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.
"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”
You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.
“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”
Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.
You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.
“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”
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Dominant Billie Eilish? 🙏 pretty please
The Games We Play; Billie Eilish/Fem!Reader
Content: 2nd POV. Established relationship, semi-toxic relationship, brief mentions of gaslight, implied infidelity, D/s elements, name calling ('slut'), degradation, teasing, strap-on sex, mentions of ass play, use of sex toys (vibrator).
"I've had enough of the games now, Y/n. You're starting to annoy me."
It was ironic to watch Billie sit at the table and sulk to herself as if she didn't get herself into this situation. These games that she claims to hate oh so much where the ones that she started and wanted to finish once she wasn't getting her way. You have just been with her for way too long not to be able to see her through and through. Billie hated the bitter taste of her own medicine, but she should've thought about that before she brushed you off when you asked about who that was on that instagram post.
You made her watch you flirt with a past fling all night. You could barely remember the lady's name when you two first bumped into her, but quickly she became valuable to you. All you had asked for was honesty about a post that was posted to tens of millions of people, but instead you were shut out. Billie brought this on herself, and it felt good to see her sitting there feeling sorry for you.
"Ooh, tell me more about your trip to Greece! I've been waiting to go, but sometimes it's hard when others won't cooperate with their schedules."
Billie was within earshot of the entire conversation and you didn't spare her one bit. You left her emotionally beaten and bruised every time you laid a hand on the body of someone you came close to being with years ago. Your attraction had faded greatly as you only had eyes for your girlfriend now, but Billie doesn't know that and at this moment anyone would think that the relationship was on its last legs. But just like you know Billie, she knows you too well for her own good. You were trying to make her feel the same way you did over an instagram post. Well, you had one the battle as your attempts to make Billie jealous was working, but Billie was well intentioned on winning the war.
Now as she confronts you about the only thing you can do is play dumb. You weren't going to give her the upper hand by outright admitting what you were doing. The way she dismissed you about posting photos of another girl damn near straddling her kept you up for days. Those 3 to 4 hours of sleep left you irritable and willing to do anything to get your point across. So in your eyes, you're not doing anything worse your girlfriend hasn't done.
"What are you talking about?" You asked her, cocking your head to the side and feigning innocence.
Normally your pout was endearing but right now Billie wanted to fuck it off your face. Still surrounded by strangers who could possibly hear your conversation, Billie gives a deep sigh and she hangs her head down. It was a sign of utter defeat to you.
"Y/n," she sighs before leaning in and whispering, "You really want to do this right now?"
Those simple words were a warning shot. Billie didn't have to say much else. She didn't have to explain that she knows you after being together for two years. She didn't have to explain that they've done this song and dance before and that it's getting stale. Both are committed and faithful to this relationship, but sometimes things get hazy and the relationship is tested. Billie knows she's in the wrong, but getting those words to come out of her mouth is like pulling teeth. You two should be passed this stage, especially as you get older together, but clearly both of you are wrong. When one of you acts up, the other feels like they have no choice but to retaliate and somehow you're always the one always having to retaliate.
You don't want to hear it from her. You don't want to sit in the car on the way home and hear her give you some holier-than-thou speech as if she's the mature one in the relationship. It was easier to talk to you like that when you were side by side and she didn't have to look you in the eyes and act like she didn't do what she did. Did it feel good to flirt with someone you're no longer interested in? No, that part didn't feel good, but being able to glance over and see Billie sulking while surrounded by happy, partying people, it was better than any high or shot of alcohol here tonight.
"What am I doing? I'm at a party that you're ruining the vibe because you want to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Get up, go talk to your friends." You didn't have much else to say to her and she kept her mouth shut too. Billie had nothing to say. Have you succeeded?
Billie was never afraid to drag out an argument, even in a setting like this. There was the great texting fiasco of Summer 2023 that ended with you staying at your friend's place for the weekend. So she was uncharacteristically quiet now. And in a surprising move, she just smiled at you. Your faces were so close together you thought she was going to kiss, but instead she leaned back. She grabbed her glass filled with whatever she had and brought it to her lips. Never did she pull her eyes away from you and you felt your grip on the situation loosening. You don't know what it means for you, for tonight and for the future, but you stepped away from her. You turned your back to her and joined a group of mutual friends. The former fling you were flirting with was nowhere to be found, but it didn't matter anymore.
You felt Billie's eyes burning a hole right through you for the rest of the night. Despite the room being so loud, there was a ringing in your ears that dulled the sound of everything around you. You don't know how you were able to make it through the rest of the night acting like you usual self. The end of the night and car ride home were unbearable and equally silent. Billie's steady breathing was the only sound to fill your ears; so calm yet just as loud as the club's bass in your ears. The little battle you had earlier? It meant nothing now. Whatever victory you felt was replaced by the dread of worrying what was to come next. You expected a screaming match to take place as soon as the two of you crossed past that threshold into Billie's house. Instead Billie decided to do something she hasn't tried before. She was going to fuck the problem away.
Billie was pissed. The way she grabbed you, you don't think you've seen her so mad before. The two of you are no strangers to things getting a little rough, but there was so much more raw and animalistic about the way she touched you, the way she kissed you. Billie was gunning to win the war and she was going to disarm you in the best way she knew how. You don't understand how pissed she was seeing your flirt with an old fling like that, and what annoyed her the most is that you looked to actually be having a good time. She saw how you looked at this woman who has no name to her. You looked at her as if she meant something. Billie thought the photo she uploaded was to be expected from her and her friends. She thought you knew that sometimes one of them gets a little handsy but there was never any ill-intention behind it. Hell, you've seen it happen in front of your very eyes before and you didn't react. To her the difference between the post and what you did was that you intended to make the situation worse. You looked so into this woman, looking at her the same way you've looked at Billie before. Those eyes are only for her.
Billie wasn't nice or sweet tonight. She didn't tease you or suck on your tits for almost an hour like she usually loves to do. You were pushed onto the bed, face down ass up. You weren't able to see anything with your face in the covers. You had to guess what was happening based on the sounds around you. Billie was stealthy and quick, not giving you a second to adjust to what was going on. You felt something cool and wet hitting between your cheeks. You cursed yourself for not wearing underwear tonight, giving Billie easy access to both of your holes to do whatever she wanted with you. You felt something poke at your entrance and soon you were filled with 8 inches of thickness. The air was plucked right out of you as Billie pushed her strap all the way inside. She watched in awe how your arousal bursted through the seams. She pulled out and your juices had already completely covered her strap.
Billie pushes back into you after a few seconds. She started at a slow pace before gradually picking up speed, fucking you harder and faster. The residual anger from your little stunt tonight was fuleing her. When a girl acts up, sometimes she needs to be put in her place.
"You wanna tell me who that was tonight? Who was that girl, Y/n!"
You feel her grab a handful of your hair and she pulls your face out the bed. Her grip was tight enough to feel a prickly sensation on the edge of your scalp. You pulled your head back further to alleviate the pain. The question she asked you had completely slipped your mind as she filled your poor pussy with every inch of her strap. Billie didn't take so kindly to being ignored, so she asked you again. You could barely speak, but you tried your best.
"W-What girl?" You stutter through each thrust.
"Still playing dumb, huh?"
There was a tinge of playfulness in Billie's voice that could've you if you weren't getting fucked so hard. You were still trying to play the game she was built to beat you at. However, that girl doesn't matter to you and certainly she's irrelevant now. Your skin was flushed and sweaty. The sound of Billie's thighs meeting your ass reverberates in the room. How could you be thinking about some other woman when you're getting fucked within an inch of your life.
"If you wanted to be fucked like this baby all you had to do was laugh. You don't have to fight for my attention when you have it 24/7 sweetheart," Billie teased you with such a clear voice that amazed you she was able to concentrate on making you feel so small and fucking you skillfully. "You knew exactly what you were doing tonight, but you won't want to try that again after I'm done fucking this little pussy of yours."
Her words began to sound fuzzy as the tip of her strap kept agitating your sweet spot. You could barely keep yourself up, your arms giving away. The only thing keeping you up right now was Billie's tight grip on your hair. You were about to cum; dangerously close. All the tell-tale signs of your orgasm began firing off and that just happen to be the moment when Billie decided to pull out of you. You could whine and cry all you want, but Billie still pushed you off her strap. Your orgasm, the one you so desperately wanted, shuttered away as you sobbed into the sheets. You were surely a sight to take in. The strap rests against your ass, smearing your juices into your skin.
"Did you really think I was going to let you cum so fast? You really think you deserve that princess?"
Leave it to Billie to not give in so easily -- you should've seen this coming. You push yourself up on your palms until you're pushed back down onto the bed. Billie didn't have to use much force either which made her laugh at you. You were so weak and you hadn't even cum yet.
"Pick a number, baby."
You thought you were hearing her wrong. Did she just ask you to pick a fucking number?
"Pick a number. 1-3."
It was stupid to indulge in whatever game she was playing, but you lifted your head and opened your mouth to utter, "2." You don't know why you even answered.
"Hmm," Billie hums. It's hard to read such a small reaction.
The sound of the drawer opening happens again. You don't have to see to know she's grabbing from the bottom "special" drawer, where she got the strap-on from. There were a few other toys in there and you suspect that's where the game comes in at.
"It's too bad you didn't pick 1, but I guess you spared your little ass tonight."
You were just spread out so perfectly for the buttplug she hasn't used on you yet. Billie would've been able to see her reflection in the shiny metal as it slipped into your tightest hole. Stretching your ass out while fucking you would've ruined you, you haven't tried that out yet. She imagines that you would've been begging her for forgiveness and permission to cum. Even seeing it in her active imagination makes her heart skip a beat. But, fate has decided for her and she's going to make the most of it.
The wand you unintentionally picked had only been used about two or three times. It's vibrations were so strong, something you felt like you had to get use to. Only on it's lowest setting were you able to handle it. Something powered only by batteries yet it was so powerful you were seeing stars the first time you used it.
"Get up."
Billie gave you the command but then she was moving your body herself. She laid on the bed and signaled for you to get on top of her. You go to straddle her before she stops you.
"Uh-uh. Turn the other way."
She made you turn away from and in the direction of a mirror. For the first time since going out tonight, you got a glimpse of yourself. Your hair looked a mess and your makeup had smudged a lot. Spit was drying in the corner of your mouth. You should've been ashamed about how you look and how Billie was slutting you out, but it made your pussy drip on Billie's skin. One, two, three she felt the drops of your arousal on her bare skin. She groaned, showing a moment of weakness for a second. Right then she knew she had to get you on her strap. She lowered you down with one hand. Somehow her strap felt so much bigger when you were sinking down on it this way. The way the girth stretched out just felt different when you were any other position. Billie doesn't fuck you in reverse cowgirl often so you were willing to underestimate her ability to fuck you as hard as you need like this, but quickly you were proven wrong.
Your skin slapped together harder and your tits bounce with every thrust up into your swollen twat. You thought it was a lot to handle until you felt the vibrations from the wand against your pussy. The slew of moans that fell from your lips were louder than before.
"Good girl! Keep moaning for me baby, show me just how much you love being fucked like this. Only I can fuck you like this."
Words like this were meant to only affect you, to drive home the point that you were a slut for Billie and Billie only, but somehow she fueled her own desire. She was fucking up into you with reckless abandon. You were so close to losing your mind from being fucked like that from below while the vibrator was placed firmly against your swollen clit. You had no choice but to endure it as your eyes rolled in the back of your head.
"Whose pussy's this? Who does this pussy belong to, girl," the way she addressed you and the stinging grip on your hip made you spiral. Billie has flirted with degrading you more and more in bed, but tonight she spoke as if this came natural to her. She questioned as if something would happen if you didn't answer her. The worst thing she, or anyone else, could do to you at this moment is deny you of another sweet release. It's a miracle you're not squirting all over her strap that bullying its way into you. The head of her strap hits your cervix so deliciously. She questions you as if you're capable of speaking right now when the vibrator is sending you into orbit. You've officially been rendered stupid and unable to form words.
It takes a solid minute and everything inside of you to be able to muster up the energy to be able to answer you.
"Yours! Oh god it's yours!" You force out with a desperate cry. Your body is beginning to hunch over in weakness as she continues to pound you. You've never felt so pathetic in your life, unable to stand your ground, but never did failure feel so good. The stretch and the buzz was addicting and you were ready to let go of everything that's been pent up inside of your body.
The way you answer satisfies Billie, finally. The sobs of your pure devotion made relief wash over her. She's happy.
She doesn't stop her pounding until you're cumming and crying out loudly for her. Your toes curl as you come the hardest you have in a long, long time. Billie's grip on you was still harsh, painful even, causing the pain to mix with your everlasting pleasure. This is what might be the longest orgasm of your life and it comes after another stalemate in your relationship.
It was almost impossible to be able to come back to reality. You didn't even notice the vibrator had been turned off and discarded onto the bed until Billie stopped pumping into you completely. Satisfaction stirred deep in your hips as you sat there with her strap situated inside of you. Billie was holding you up with both hands now as if you would fall apart into a million pieces if she let go. And let go she never did.
Your heavy limbs find relief when you're laid against the bed. It feels like you're floating on a cloud compared to how it felt before. You were in a state of disbelief, asking yourself, 'did that shit really happen?'
You weren't going to regain your composure after that, and you weren't going to even try. Billie is already up and moving around, disappearing for a few minutes before she comes back with a wet towel waiting to clean you up. She pushes your legs apart and gently rubs the warm towel against your sensitive skin.
"I think you left a present over there."
She nods her head in the direction of the wet spot on the bed. Did you squirt? You don't even have a fucking clue if you did or not but you hide your face in your hands anyway.
"Oh god," you groan.
"We can always sleep in the other room."
"I don't think I can move, Bil."
You had a million and one questions, but you were utterly worn out and Billie's face was flushed pink from all the work she put in. You two have more to answer for in the morning, and a need to explain why you both acted up so much. Seeing you so vulnerable made the words 'I'm sorry, I was wrong' want to bubble up in Billie's throat. Instead she kisses the two sweet thighs she loves so much. The nonverbal apology will always come before remorseful words out of Billie's lips. Holding you until you fall asleep will stand in just for the night.
#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish/reader#billie eilish smut#f/f#f/f smut#f/f fanfic#smut#blurb#lesbian fanfic#lesbian smut#celeb smut
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Hey could I please get #8 and #12 with coriolanus snow please? (even better if he's a little bit insane as long as he ends up happy with Y/N at the end)- thanks so much :))
-E
‘’If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?’’ + ‘’I did this for you! Everything I’ve done has been for you!’’
I've been getting requests for Peeta, but I'm not - and will not be -writing for him. I never fell for him in the movies 🫣
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
You couldn’t remember how the situation got so heated, but one moment you were laughing and having a good time inside the Hob bar and the next you and Coriolanus were yelling at each other. To add drama and theatrics to the scene, it was pouring rain.
‘’I did this for you! Everything I’ve done has been for you!’’ he shouted, his pretty eyes filled with anger.
You halted in the wet street and looked back at him, your wet hair clinging on your body. ‘’But I never asked anything from you!’’ you shot back, sick of hearing the same speech. ‘’I never asked you to come to my district and find me after the games.’’
‘’So you’d rather I did not?’’ he retorted with an arrogant edge.
You shook your head. ‘’That’s not what I said.’’
You had never smiled wider than the night you saw Coriolanus in the street with Sejanus. His blond hair was no longer, all buzzed like the other peacekeepers. His decision to bribe the commander to serve as a peacekeeper in your district was a high risk, but the happiness it brought you outweighed the danger.
His jaw tensed, raindrops rolling down his face like unshed tears. ‘’I risked everything for you! For us. Is it not enough?’’
Your frustration echoed in the relentless rain, wishing he would get why you were upset without you having to explain it to him. But he was a man. Men never understand why these small things matter, why they can be hurtful.
‘’We were having a drink with friends and you…you dropped my fucking hand! It’s like you don’t want to be seen with me. We’re not at the Capitol anymore, Coryo. We’re allowed to be together.’’
‘’Peacekeepers are not allowed to have a woman while serving. I could get in trouble if someone told about us to my commander.’’
A bitter laugh escaped you at his cowardly answer, lost in the drumming of rain on pavement. Where was the man you met in the Capitol who crossed rules left and right to get his ways?
‘’Since when are you following the laws?’’
Coriolanus stayed quiet, your question left unanswered.
You took a few steps toward him, trying to ignore how hot he looked drenched in rainwater by lowering your eyes on the buttons of his blue button-up shirt. All night inside the Hob, you had been thinking about the time you’ll go home and get to have him to yourself.
And now here you were, fighting in the street…
‘’You think these men stay celibate for their twenty years of serving?’’ you asked, pointing back to the bar. ‘’Don’t be a fool.’’
‘’It’s different for us. I was your mentor. If it gets to the Capitol’s ears that you and I found our way to each other, I will be dispatched to another district or worse, we’ll both get hu—’’
You interrupted him with a scoff. ‘’You think anyone in there is gonna snitch on us? These people have no idea who you are, besides that you are a peacekeeper. And even if they did, they don’t care. You could have a hand under my skirt under one of the tables and they wouldn’t even notice. They’re just here to listen to music and have a drink and dance.’’
Your words were a stretch, but you needed to prove your point with something that would get a reaction out of him.
Something shifted in Coriolanus’s eyes. He reached for you, grabbing your arm in a rough grip and pulling you close to him. ‘’I’d never share you with these men,’’ he growled between you, his jaw tight.
‘’If I’m yours, then show them,’’ you challenged, daring as you looked into his eyes. ‘’If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?’’ you asked, raindrops clinging to your lashes. ‘’I’m not asking for much, Coryo,’’ you continued, your voice a mix of frustration and longing. ‘’I just want you to be with me. If you can’t give me that, then you made a mistake coming here.’’
The world seemed to pause, the only sound being the raindrops hitting the ground and turning it into mud.
Coriolanus opened his mouth to speak, igniting a small glint of hope in your eyes.
A part of him will always be scared that you’ll be separated again, but he wasn’t going to lose the love of his life because he was scared of losing you.
—
Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow imagine#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes
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Series: In Her Shadow, pt.2 (ft. main trio)
Part 1 | Part 2
Slowly but surely she replaced you in his heart.
Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)
Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, breakup
A/N: I recieved a lot of comments and request asking me to continue, so here we are! I've tried my best. Ty everyone, I appreciate every message, even if it would be hard to mention every single one of them in this post. Also, if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!
-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-
Rafayel
You began to notice that Rafayel was spending less and less time with you, choosing his bodyguard over you.
It wasn't obvious at first, yeah, but as time went on, everything became so noticeable that you couldn't ignore it anymore. Especially when he forgot about your plans with him and didn't even consider apologizing for it.
The smell of someone else's perfume in his studio, the way Rafayel would leave you at home and take her to all the important events because "you probably don't like spending time among journalists and annoying guests." It seems that he didn't even notice the moment when you were completely estranged from each other.
And all your attempts to talk to him about it ended with nothing.
"She's my bodyguard," he'd say. "No wonder I take her everywhere I go. Is there anything wrong with that?"
Yes, a lot of things were wrong.
But he was completely unwilling to notice it, and you were tired of collecting the shards of your broken heart from the floor day after day. Those warm feelings that brought a sense of lightness and happiness in your heart suddenly turned into pure torture.
You had to end it all, even if it'll hurt so much.
When you arrived at his studio this morning, you came face to face with "Ms. Bodyguard" herself. She was just about to leave, and didn't even hesitate to embrace your beloved. Right in front of you.
Maybe you would've exploded from all these negative emotions, if you had any strength left to be mad or to cry. But there was only emptiness in your heart.
You became strangers to each other.
"I'm breaking up with you," you said without any regret and pushed him away as he tried to hug you. "I don't want to be a second choice after your precious bodyguard."
"W-wait, why? What... But I didn't do anything!" he replied confused, apparently not realizing how much he's been hurting you all this time.
"Maybe that's the point. That you'd do anything for her, but not for me."
He looked at you with the same confusion in his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a joke, but you continued before leaving this place forever.
"You were everything to me, Rafayel. But for you, I was just a small episode of your life. I'm tired. You've been spending all your free time with her, like I didn't exist. It'll be better this way. Goodbye."
No matter how long he was calling your name, asking you to stop, to come back and talk with him, you didn't.
Zayne
Loving a cardiac surgeon with his busy schedule is hard.
But it's even harder when he no longer cares about your existence and spends a significant amount of time with his childhood friend.
After Zayne forgot about your reservation at the restaurant, making you feel like you were the last fool in this world, some more time has passed.
Yeah, he apologized. No, he didn't start spending less time with his "friend".
It's hard to count how many evenings you spent alone when he stayed late at work for her or was invited to a "friendly" dinner with her. But it happened often enough so finally your love turned into suffering.
At first you tried to convince yourself that you're too jealous and he's just happy to finally reunite with someone close to him from his youth. You care about your friends too, don't you?
But it only got worse.
All your plans were constantly adjusted to his friend's wishes. She wants to take him to a cafe at the same time you were planning to go to the cinema? "Sorry, love, let's reschedule our date for another day". You've made him his favorite dinner? Too bad, his friend already brought him dinner at work and he's not hungry.
Eventually you started feeling like he stopped enjoying your time together and just continued to exist in the same apartment with you out of habit.
Talking didn't get you anywhere, because Zayne didn't notice how much he was hurting you (or he simply didn't want to notice it) with his actions and only distanced himself from you even more.
At some point you felt like he put an ice wall around himself again.
He stayed late again this evening, completely forgetting his promise to spend time with you. You packed your things with tears in your eyes, ready to say goodbye to life with Zayne once and for all.
And he showed up at the doorstep of his apartment just as you were ready to leave.
"What's going on?" his voice didn't betray a shred of emotion. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to leave you and your lovely friend together so I don't have to be an unwanted addition to your life."
Zayne was taken aback at this statement and was about to say something, but you interrupted him.
"You were the one who brought happiness and comfort into my life. You were the one who made me feel loved and wanted. But now I realize that I wasn't good enough for you. Goodbye."
You walked away and closed the door behind you, leaving him all alone.
Xavier
Before, you without a doubt would've said that your relationship with Xavier was the ultimate dream.
But now it wasn't actually true.
Yes, your beloved still showed care and attention every spare minute he had. Just not to you. It seemed as if his colleague started to occupy his every thought.
During dinner, on a walk, after missions. He was always talking about her, how strong she is, and how lucky he is that she chose him as her partner. His eyes were shining with delight you had never seen before.
You were happy for him, but only until it crossed the line. Only until you started to feel like he was in love with her, not with you.
One day you found yourself completely miserable. Xavier texted you that he would be late because they had "decided to celebrate another successful mission". Except that you were usually the one he shared his joy with. But things have changed.
Even though you were the brightest star in his world, you were inevitably lost behind the glow of the Moon.
You were trying to be better, to be more interesting. Trying to reach an unattainable ideal. But you couldn't. After all, maybe you were never meant to be together if it turned out like this. Maybe you weren't enough for him.
You couldn't remember the last day you didn't cry. Sometimes alone, sometimes locking yourself in the bathroom after another conversation about this "super-strong collegue". But Xavier didn't seem to notice it at all.
"I thought maybe you'd be interested to know what happens during missions," he said when you brought up this painful topic.
And, yes, you were interested. But all you heard was, "She took down that Wanderer so easily, I couldn't take my eyes off her." Or, "she's so good with her weapon, it's amazing."
He distanced himself from you so much that you hardly spent any time together.
He wasn't even home the day you left.
Xavier sent you a message saying he'd be late again. As usual, with her. Even though he promised to have a movie night and you had already prepared everything you needed for it.
Maybe it's even better if you don't see the look in his eyes the moment you tell him you're breaking up with him. You packed your things and left a note on the table, next to the snacks you bought.
"Maybe in another universe I would be worthy of you so you could look at me with the same adoration. I can see that you enjoy spending time with her much more. And we should break up so you don't torment my heart anymore. Goodbye."
You glanced around his apartment one last time before leaving it forever.
♡ tags: @skyowlz @prettytemis @aishasreality @randompersonwhoexist @kreishin @reni502 @moonyzstarz @chin-chii
#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader
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Dude I'm so confused
Why are the redditors refugees here-
Whats up with the tag 196
AND WHY IS EVERYONE BEING SO NICE WITH THE TWITTER REFUGEES CAME WE GAVE THEM HELL (almost)
The Reddit refugees are here because several subreddits have gone private in protest of reddit's new policy of charging third party developers for access to its API.
Hence the term reddit blackout.
196 specifically was a very queer friendly subreddit that had one rule: that you post before you leave. 196 is trending because those Redditors have come here and they're basically sharing their memery here instead as they protest reddit's greed.
As for why we're welcoming them when Twitter refugees were seen with a little more irritation, well.
Think of the culture similarities.
Tumblr and reddit have far more in common than Tumblr and Twitter.
Twitter is about clout and manipulating algorithms and discourse in 280 characters or less. It's about bad takes that reach the right people and it forces you to see things you don't want to see and it's crawling with the worst people imaginable and you're forced to see them, all the time. They also brought bad tagging and 2016 Tumblr discourse with them, because Twitter culture really involves starting fights for clout and braindead opinions that no one really wants to come back to Tumblr culture.
There was a time when Tumblr did the same thing, but worse, with more words...but nowadays, it's really calmed down.
The worst people...went to Twitter after the porn ban. Ironically, it made the site less toxic and hostile.
But then they came back.
And it was like...hm. no thanks. Stay back where you came from.
But Tumblr and Reddit have much more in common.
Both have a more streamlined way of customizing your online feed. You can choose what subreddits you see on your home screen, just like Tumblr only shows you the content of your followers, on your dashboard, and in chronological order rather than what's trending. You can join a very specific weird niche group of freaks with a shared obsession, and not care about the rest of the site at all. You also don't have a character limit on either site, which lets you ramble more and share weird detailed stories.
Reddit might have karma, but like Tumblr, the majority of people are lurkers and not posters. It also allows you to downvote bad opinions, and moderators who have to adhere to certain guidelines of behavior, which means a lot of banning disruptive people.
Granted, sometimes their mods are power hungry, but. You know.
It does more to control its users than Tumblr do, and that's a good thing in terms of keeping toxicity and illegal shit off its subs.
Reddit also has a way more leftwing attitude than you would think.
It has a reputation for being full of incels but I honestly think that's outdated.
It's cleaned up its act quite a bit since the old days.
I see way more vile shit from Twitter and TikTok. Like seriously.
Twitter is crawling with conservative bots and propaganda machines and just outright inflammatory lies. TikTok literally has the worst comment sections I've ever seen, like edgy teenagers cracking racist and misogynistic humor and acting like it makes them different and special. Its algorithm also spoon feeds you garbage and is designed to be as addicting as possible.
At least reddit's culture, while chauvinistic and regressive in certain subcultures, is mostly on the tech positive, atheist libertarian side.
It can be a little pretentious and caustic about certain subjects, and a little full of itself. Some reddits are also very male leaning and disregard female concerns in favor of moaning about how men have it worse than anyone else on earth.
But for the most part?
...well.
I welcome them here, because if they left reddit in protest, then we always support protests. But 196 specifically is also a queer subreddit, and we support that even more.
Plus they're funny as fuck.
What's not to like, really?
You should welcome them with open arms too.
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"AITA for pushing my best friend away?"
masterlist
warnings: english is not my first language!! use of (y/n), teenagers in love lol
This it my first time posting here and I really don't know how to use Reddit but...
I (17M) have been friends with this girl (17F) since my first year of high school. I've never been really sociable and I can only say that, until then, I had one friend but ever since I met her, I have considered her a really close friend.
We go to the same class and I’ve been getting this weird feeling whenever I see her or when we talk. It has been happening for a while now, but ever since we came back from break, it has affected me mentally. I can't concentrate on tasks and I need to prepare for my final exams and university entrance exams so I have decided to just, ignore her, I guess?
The thing is that the feeling has not gone away and it has grown and I don't know what to do. Maybe she's not the problem and I just have anxiety for the future? idk.
Am I the asshole for pushing her away without an explanation? I'm the worst with social interactions.
It was the middle of Tsukishima's third year, a time that should have been filled with the usual grind of studying, volleyball practice, and casual banter with friends. But lately, something had shifted. And it had everything to do with his best friend (Y/N).
She had been friends with Tsukishima for more than three years. Tsukishima could not remember what brought him closer to her, but he remembered clearly that he first noticed her his second day at Karasuno. (Y/N) was not afraid of challening him and his sharp tongue, and somehow, even when he didn't mean to, he let his cold demeanor down whenever she was with him. If he was being honest, being friends with her was easy and everybody knew it.
It was easy until he spent a week away visiting Akiteru. Then, he started to feel it - a weird and unfamiliar tightness in his chest whenever he saw her texts on his screen and the heat on his cheeks whenever he opened her Instagram story. He dismissed it as home sickness. Truth be told, he had not been away from home for more than a few days and even when they had no school, (Y/N) and Yamaguchi were always trying to hang out with him but, why would his heart skip a beat whenever his phone pinged with a notification?
Then, it became worse. Back at school, his heart quickened whenever he heard her laugh or when her hand would softly brush his trying to reach a pencil. It made no sense to him and the uncertainty gnawed at him, annoyed as well. He needed to concentrate on getting a good grade for his university entrance exam and needed no distractions.
So, he began to isolate himself and push her away.
It started small—avoiding eye contact, muttering curt answers when she asked how his day was. Soon, he stopped texting her back, stopped waiting for her after classes, and made excuses when (Y/N) asked to hang out. She didn’t seem to notice at first, still bright and hopeful, assuming that Tsukki was just being his usual, antisocial self. But then she started frowning more, voice dropping when asking him if there was something worng and sighing whenever her texts weren't answered.
Tsukishima opened his laptop to see that his Reddit post had comments on it and opened it quickly.
"Hey! YTA bruh."
"you have feelings for her lol i can feel it from this side of the screen... weird feeling and can't concentrate on tasks!! bro, you are in love with this girl but yeh, YTA for pushing her away without saying a damn thing so you need to fix this if you want her to be your friend or girlfriend lmao good luck"
"you're just a teenager in love, talk to her"
Like her? Not even like her, LOVE her? Tsukishima shook his head, blushing sightly at the sight of those words on his screen. He didn't like her like that, right?
Tsukishima turned his computer off, laying his head on the desk, closing his eyes. The closer he got to (Y/N), the harder it became to ignore those feelings happening inside him. He hated it. He hated the vulnerability that came with trying to find out his true feelings for her, because, even if he wanted to avoid them, they were completely true.
Since the beginning of their friendship, he always found her pretty and as time passed as he got to know her, he knew he was completely fucked.
Why did he let it get so hard? He could never tell her. What would she say? She would probably reject him and ruin their whole friendship and that what something he did not want at all. Not now that they were going to the same universitry but he was not like Kuroo, who told him stories about his university flings or Bokuto, who had no problem telling anyone what he felt.
(Y/N) deserved someone better than him, someone that could communicate their problems and love her unconditionally. Tsukishima sighed deeply, moving from his desk to his bed, looking at his phone, trying to find her last messages that he had not responded. If he told her how he felt, she’d probably laugh it off or, worse, feel sorry for him.
And so, he kept her at arm’s length, until one afternoon.
"Tsukki, wait!" (Y/N)'s voice rang out and Tsukishima froze. He had just finished volleyball practice and was walking back to the volleyball club room when he heard rapid footsteps walking up the stairs.
He turned slowly, adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat, looking at the shorter girl, still in her uniform, up and down.
"What?'" His tone was flat but she didn't back down, instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him angrily.
She stepped closer. "You've been avoiding me." Her eyes searched his face for an answer. "For like... two weeks now. Care to explain why?"
Tsukishima clenched his jaw, hands tigheting into fists at his side. She was completely right and the truth was sitting like a weight on his chest. He had no escape now and had to make a decision: tell you the truth and suffer the consequences of her rejection or lie and hope she believes his lie.
He was about to open his mouth but the sight of (Y/N)'s face stopped him. There was no sight of anger but of concern and hurt that broke his heart. He was a complete asshole.
"Did I do something to upset you? I-"
"No." Tsukishima replied, heart pounding. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Then?" She stepped even closer to him, little space between them. "I don't understand why you've been pushing me away and not answering my texts or even looking at me."
He couldn't tell her. He couldn't but her saddened eyes bore into him, desperate for an answer and he crumbled under her gaze, like always.
"You need to talk to me, Tsukki." She whispered. "Please."
"I..." He took a deep breath, eyes darting away from her face. "I like you."
The silence that followed felt deafening and she blinked, stunned at the soft words spoken by the boy. He turned away, heat rising to his cheeks.
"I don't expect you to like me back." he said "But I... I suppose I needed to tell you even though that may have totally ruined our friendship."
(Y/N) stepped closer to him and, trembling, hugged him from behind, his, still, sweaty body, jumping from the sudden closeness of her body to his.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was gentle and low, as if she was hiding her face too and her touch sent a shiver down Tsukishima's spine.
"It's stupid, right?"
She giggled, shaking her had. "You're an idiot, Tsukishima Kei." She stopped hugging her for a second and he turned, eyes widening at her rosy cheeks and big smile. "I've liked you for a year now."
"What?"
She blushed again, looking into his golden eyes. "I thought you'd never notice or that you didn't want to hurt my feelings."
Tsukishima stared at the girl in front of him, trying to process her words. He didn't know what to say to her. He had never had a girlfriend or even had a girl approach him like this. He had his first kiss with a girl on Kageyama's birhtday party last year but that was it.
"I... I don't know how to proceed." He admitted. "The... Boyfriend-girlfriend thing? I'll screw things up."
She laughed softly and nodded. "You want me to be your girlfriend?"
"Duh."
She smiled and nodded again. "That's okay. I don't know either but... We'll figure it out?"
For a moment, Tsukishima stood there, watching (Y/N) as she played with the sleeve of his jacket. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain some control at the thought of (Y/N) being his girlfriend but he took a step closer, reaching for one of her hands, interwining his fingers with hers while his other hand went to her face, caressing her cheek softly.
His heart thudded heavily in his chest as (Y/N) stood on her tiptoes, tilting her head slighty and eyes closing as her lips brushed against his, tentative, as if she were asking for permission and he froze once again, but, without a second thought, he leaned into the kiss, his hand slipping from her cheek to her waist, pulling her just a bit closer.
Just as he was about to pull away, a loud, familiar voice echoed down the hall.
"WOAHHHH! WHAT IS THIS?!"
Tsukishima froze, his lips still hovering close to (Y/N)'s as his eyes snapped open in horror. Both of them quickly turned to see Hinata standing a few feet away, mouth agape, eyes wide in shock and delight.
Before either could react, Yamaguchi came jogging up behind Hinata, looking confused.
"Hinata, why are you yelling—" His words died in his throat as he took in the sight of (Y/N) and Tsukishima, still standing too close, cheeks flushed from the kiss.
"Oh," Yamaguchi said, a grin spreading across his face. "Ohhhh."
"Tsukishima!" Hinata’s voice was full of glee, as if he had just stumbled upon the best gossip of his life. "You were kissing (Y/N)!" His tone was incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just seen.
"I knew something was up!" Hinata continued, practically bouncing in place with excitement. " I never thought I'd see the day!"
Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the heat rise to his face. "Shut up, Hinata."
But Hinata was on a roll. "Kissing in the hallway, huh? That’s so unlike you, Tsukki!" He paused dramatically, eyes widening even further. "Wait—are you dating?!" Hinata gasped, then leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "So, how long has this been going on, huh? How many secret kisses? How many dates? Tell me everything!"
Tsukishima, already at his limit, glared at Hinata with a deadly expression, his lips pressed into a tight line. "If you don’t shut up in the next three seconds, I’m going to kill you."
But Hinata, fearless as ever, just grinned wider. "You’re in love, Tsukishima! Admit it! You’re all soft now!"
Yamaguchi snickered, clearly enjoying the sight of his usually stoic best friend looking so flustered. Hinata, sensing he had pushed enough buttons for one day, held up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! I’ll stop! But seriously, this is amazing! I can’t wait to tell Kageyama!"
"Don’t you dare," Tsukishima growled, his voice dangerous low, glaring at the orange-haired ball of energy. But as much as he wanted to snap, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips when he looked down at (Y/N).
He rolled his eyes, squeezing (Y/N)'s arm as he walked past her, heading towards the club room. "Wait here, I'll walk you home."
Hinata, ever the observant one when it came to emotions, pointed dramatically at Tsukishima. "See! He’s smiling! He likes this! He’s totally in love!
"Hinata, shut the hell up."
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update: hey reddit, I looked at all your comments and decided to talk things with her which was great. Made her my girlfriend and had our first date yesterday, it was great and I think she enjoyed it a lot. Thanks for all your advice.
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Bring Me To Life
Pairing: Arkham Knight!Jason Todd x Female! Reader
Summary: Destroy the Batman and get his companion back? Jason almost didn't believe Slade until... Warnings: Usage of female pronouns, Nudity (NO smut), Swearing, Character Death, Angst, Resurrection, Infantization ( I didn't know how to better describe this), Unhealthy relationship dynamics, Kinda Dark/Obsessive! Jason, Mentions Electroshock therapy, Implied Brainwashing, Slade being a creep, Mentions of Drug Abuse, Mentions of Child Neglect, Mentions of Child Homelessness and unsafe situations, SPOILERS for Death in the Family (Comic 1988) and Arkham Knight.
Author's Note: Hiya Everyone, This is the first fanfic I've written in a while and the christianing fic for this account. I may start a casual little series with this, but I don't know yet. Also any comic and game inaccuracies are either because I forgot or I adjusted it to fit the story.
Also while this post is mostly safe for work, MINORS DNF AND PLEASE READ WARNINGS. I DO NOT AUTHORIZE ANYONE TO STEAL MY WORK OR REPOST IT ON OTHER SITES.
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It was supposed to be him...
Those dark nights he had spent alone on the streets as a child didn't seem so bad looking back on it. Jason understood struggle even when he had lived with his parents who spent grocery money on alcohol and drugs. Living on the streets didn't feel so much worse, especially since he had... "Jason, Mr. Accetta gave me some scraps from dinner rush today! There's even a whole pizza in here!"
Her. His one friend had since he was thrown into this harsh world. She was the only person he knew at the time to never stop smiling or finding a positive outlook on things. He couldn't even remember when they met, but he could hardly remember them being apart.
Whether he was stealing or fighting, she was there as a faithful lookout or a willing accomplice. She taught him how to take tires off of cars like her granddad taught her and he taught her how to throw a punch like his dad used to throw. An unstoppable duo who ran the alley as well as two 11-year-olds could.
The harsh winter nights they spent crowding together were his favorite memories from that time. Even with the bite of Gotham's winds at their toes, his partner would never falter to talk about anything and everything as he listened. She would talk about her dead grandparents a lot and all the stories she had with them before they passed away, but his mind couldn't recall them at all. He just remembers the constant dream that she told him every night.
"One day, Jay, I'm gonna have enough money and get an apartment in Old Gotham..." Jason's nose turns up as he listens to his friend as he bites on his food. "Why Old Gotham? Isn't it just falling apart?"
She giggles as she pulls the oversized coat closer to her shivering body. The jacket was from a relative but the fabric lost those memories as its fibers were now bones. She still had it even after she left the streets...
"Because it's the most beautiful place in the world...I will get an apartment someday and you and I will live there. We can even get like a cat or something."
The familiar burn on Jason's face blooms as he asks, "Why would you want me there?"
"Because it wouldn't be my dream home unless you're there with me."
He wouldn't find out until a few years later that her grandparents used to live in Old Gotham until her grandfather died and her grandmother had to move as she would unknowingly follow her husband not even a year later...
Those nights in the streets melted into nights spent in the warmth of Wayne manor. As the two thieves became kings after a faithful night with the Batmobile, Jason was brought into the world of crime fighting along with his closest friend. As they trained and donned their capes, She would show a new side of herself to Jason. The overly happy young girl from the streets became an anxious teenager as he became angerier.
"Jason..." Her voice woke him up in the darkest of nights. His body ached from the nightly fights from the previous day as he turned to see a familiar sight.
A now 14-year-old Y/N standing in the crack of the door. Her fidgeting figure indicated all he needed to know before he raised his blanket as she scurried to get in the bed. This was a ritual that started when they moved in. Both would grow anxious at night as they went from the open streets to a large, confining manor. Alfred almost had given up on trying to scold the teens as they were found sharing a bed more times than being separated.
As she curled into his side as much as she could without hurting him, he could practically hear her mind tinkering as her E/C eyes stared into his chest.
There wasn't the need to discuss what was on her mind. At least not right now. She was concerned about the growing tension between Bruce and Jason. He was becoming reckless and Bruce was having none of it with her often getting dragged into the middle of the fights.
He hated that he never tried more...
It shouldn't have surprised him when all the conflict had finally caused a break in the family. Especially when Jason began looking for his birth mother. Y/N tried to be supportive of him as he investigated his leads. Those leads eventually led to Jason reuniting with Bruce as he investigated a possible arms trade in Lebanon. The reconciliation and the prospect of finding his mother left him blind to any form of common sense, but what kind of common sense could a fifteen-year-old make in the life they lived?
He should have listened to her concerns when they finally found Sheila Haywood, his real mother. Y/N had a bad feeling from the start but he dismissed her worries. Jason had no clue that the night he was supposed to meet with Sheila was gonna end up being one of the worst nights of his life....
"Jason, maybe you should wait for Bruce to be here so he can come with you." She suggested softly.
His eyes roll as he adjusts his costume. "Because it's none of his business. I'm just meeting with my mom and talking out some stuff..."
He didn't tell her about the blackmailing he witnessed earlier that day between his mother and the Joker. But, he would find out later that she already knew about it through Bruce.
Her hand reaches for his shoulder and pulls him around to face her. "I'm serious. You shouldn't meet with a woman you barely know in some fucking warehouse in the middle of nowhere!"
Jason can remember the hurt he felt when he heard her snap at him, Oh, how angry he got with her when all she wanted was to protect him. He remembers yelling at her the worst thing he thought he could say to her.
Why the fuck did he ever say that to her?
"I'm sorry your parents didn't want anything to fucking do with you, but I'm not gonna let your bitter ass ruin my shot to be with mine."
He remembers the hurt that filled her eyes and the string of regret pooling in his gut. With a fake smile on her face and tears pooling in her eyes, Y/N says softly,
"Okay...I'm sorry," The sharp sting in his neck as she pressed the vial of sedatives Bruce gave her into his veins. "I'm sorry to do this, Jason, but Bruce said you wouldn't go down that easily."
Jason couldn't remember what he said after the spark of betrayal hit him, but he hated himself that the last time he saw those eyes they were clouded with the tears he caused....
"Y/N! Please talk to me!" Jason begs into the coms as he rod on the back of the motorbike with Bruce.
He should have known. Her instincts are never wrong and he doubted her.
When Bruce found him unconscious and told him about how Joker was involved in all of this, Jason should have known that it was all a trap. His mother wasn't a poor blackmailed soul, she was a conniving bitch who profitted.
He also should have known that Y/N was gonna go meet with Sheila instead of him. Where the Joker was waiting for her.
"Y/N, please. Please be okay...." He begged to the coms as he can only think about what he said to her the last time they spoke.
"J...Jason...."
"Y/N!" Relief washed over him like a wave as he heard her voice. Her broken pained moaned of his voice made him sick as he tried to at least rationalized that at least she was alive. "Don't worry, honey. We know where you are and we're coming to help you."
He didn't know that she was laying battered and broken against the locked door as she stared at the bomb that was ticking away on the wall. Her labored breaths blocked out the ticking on the comms as she whispers out.
00:12
"Do you remember the apartment?..."
"What apartment? The one you talked about in the alley? Why are you-?"
She interupts him, he can hear the familiar curl of her smile in her pained voice as she whispered,
"I wanted it to have a window facing the east end...the stars always looked pretty over there..."
00:10
"Y/N, what are you-"
"I wanted one of those Tabby-looking cats like the ones we saw in the alleyway outside of Mr. Accetta's restaurant...Name it Frank after that old Italian fucker...I was hoping we could go back and actually buy dinner in that restaurant someday..."
00:08
"Are you okay? Why are you talking like this? We are almost there. I can see the building! We are almost here. I'M COMING TO SAVE YOU."
Jason's desperation was palpable as he heard his beloved talk like she was on her deathbed. His panic causes Bruce to drive faster as the Batcycle inches closer to the warehouse. "Jason"
00:04
"Jason, I love you...I have since I was 13..." She admits as her voice trembles. "I used to dream we would become the family we always wanted with each other...Thank you for being in my life and I'm sorry I let you down..."
00:03
"Y/N, I -"
00:02
"Wait!"
00:01
"Goodbye, Jason..."
.
.
.
It should have been him who died that night... It was supposed to be him. NOT HER.
Jason blamed himself for her death as soon as he helped pull her broken corpse out of the rubble. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't her. This wasn't his Batgirl. Not his best friend who would run around the manor with him or help him pickpocket pedo freaks on the street. This broken little girl that was in his adoptive father's arms wasn't his first love. She was a bright, kind light who protected her loved ones, not this broken shell who wore her skin...
But, it was her...
He blamed Bruce for it too. He was the one gave her the orders to keep Jason away from the warehouse. He had to have known that she was gonna go instead. Bruce should have known she was because she wanted to be wrong about Sheila so Jason could be happy...
He also blamed the Joker. He wanted that Clown dead... His opportunity presents itself after he tracks Joker down to an abandoned wing of Arkham trying to flee from blowing up a children's hospital.
Blinded by his rage and bloodlust, Jason went in alone and without any communication. Y/N would scold him in her grave as he fell for the trap, sealing him in a cycle of hell for a year.
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"What if I could?"
"Do what?"
"Bring her back. Would you be willing to work for Crane if I could bring back the little Batgirl?"
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He knew it was bullshit.
Bringing back someone from the dead was impossible.
Jason would have been satisfied if his pseudo-partner/ prisoner, Deathstroke, just told him that he would be able to kill the Batman and wipe the hell hole that is Gotham off the face of the earth. He already dedicated a full year after his escape from Arkham to building his army.
His only regret during this time was not killing Joker himself. Even after all the torture and pain that clown did to him, he regretted not bashing the Joker's skull in after their last encounter as Slade helped him escape. It wouldn't have mattered to him at the time that Slade would have killed him because it wouldn't have been revenge for his own torture.
it would have been for Y/N. For the hell she faced that night. After a few months in Arkham, Jason almost accepted his torture as punishment for not dying that day for her because he experienced everything she felt. Every day he experienced everything she had to feel those short agonizing hours for an entire year. She must have been so scared and Jason couldn't save her.
The only thing that kept him from giving up was the memories he had of her and the burning hatred for those who caused her light to be snuffed out too soon.
He just wanted to feel that warmth again...
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"If you can do that, then I'll burn the whole world to the ground for that fucking lunatic."
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"Please Jason. Let us help you!" Barbara Gordan begged from her cell as Jason snaps at her.
"THERE IS NO HELPING! I CAN FIX IT!"
Jason was manic. His men were being tugged around like dog toys by Batman and Slade had left him hours ago to attend some matter he didn't care to ask about. His time was running thin and he knows he needs to end this soon. It didn't help that those he didn't want involved are here as well like Barbara.
"Sir..." A militia soldier says as he nervously walks into the room. HIs men were already aware how stupid it was to come near him when he's in a crazed anger. Jason's head whipped at him like a feral man as he grits out.
"What is it?"
"Deathstroke is here...and he uh..."
Impatience reaches a boiling point as Jason raises his gun and shoots the militia solider in the head as Barbara shrieks. The red puddle of death fills the sterile room with lead as Deathstroke walts in. Jason turns his back towards him as places his helmet back into place.
"My, what a mess you made." Deathstroke mockingly scolds. The hidden smirk almost causes Jason to snap again.
"Where have you been? Batman is out there taking down my tanks faster than my men can repair them. You told m-!"
The Arkham Knight's monologue was intruppted as he turns to scold Slade by his heart dropping to his stomach at the sight before him. He swore that if he didn't hear Barbara's gasp and the whisper of fate's name, he would have woken up back in that dreaded wing of Arkham Asylum.
Slade chuckles as he rattles the chain in his hand as he says coyly, "What? Am I not allowed to go fetch your payment?"
Standing behind Deathstroke was a naked woman. Her tangled up (H/C) hair ran down her shoulders as her wide innocent eyes shined through the now white tendrils framing her face. Her body seemed more mature but all muscle mass she had was faded. Her face seemed aged but he recognized the curve of her nose and those lips he imagined smiling at him through his darkest moments.
"Y/N?" He helplessly calls out to her as he feels himself pulled towards her like a magnet.
If it wasn't for the stark white streak and gnarly, painful-looking scars on her body, Jason would have thought this was Scarecrow's fear toxin. It couldn't be possible, right? She was dead. He knew she was because he held her body. He felt how cold she was and watched how her lifeless eyes looked up to the ash ridden sky.
Those eyes now looked at him with no familiarity, but a childlike wonder as she naively smiles at him.
"How?" Was all the Arkham Knight could muster as he reaches to grab her. To pull her into his arms and never let her leave.
Deathstroke grabs the collar that was wrapped around her neck and yanks her back behind him as she chokes on her breath. He chuckles as he looks back into Jason's voiceless mask.
"The Lazarus Pit brought back her body." He explains as he hauntingly twirls the chain in his hand. "Of course, after you agreed to work with Crane, I brought her back immediately. Unfortunately, the poor thing suffered from Pit Madness."
A cruel smirk appears on Deathstrokes lips as he pushes the girl's hair back to reveal circular scars on her temples. Jason felt rage bubbling up in his throat as he recognized what those scars were.
Prolonged Electroshock Therapy
"You sick!" Before Jason could throw a punch, Slade places his gun on Y/N's forehead as he chuckles. The woman didn't even sense the danger as she continued to observe everyone with a curious eye. Jason immediately backs off as Slade continues.
"Of course. Her treatment did cause her to be cured of the madness but at the cost of her memories. She barely remembers how to take care of herself so you make it like that. Especially when you want to fuck her."
Jason was thankful for his mask as he would have killed him from his glare. To imply that she was just a potential fucktoy made him itch to bury this man in the deepest bowels of hell. As he quietly glares at him, Slade finally offers him the chain. The Arkham Knight accepts the chain as the assassin warns him,
"Now since you got your payment. You better keep your end of the deal..." His voice becomes threatening as he says.
"Because I can easily kill her just as I brought her back.'"
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AN: I was gonna write more, but I got exhausted so this is all I got. Let me know if it's a vibe or not.
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@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT AUTHORIZE THE COPYING, STEALING, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT CREDIT.
#jason todd x reader#arkham knight#arkhamverse#arkham asylum#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight jason todd#jason todd#red hood#batfam#batman fanfiction#batman arkham series#arkham knight x you
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Bunny!! Could i do a whisky and a banana and chocolate muffin with toto?
bakery menu
want to suggest your own order? hit up the menu! there's ton to choose from and i hope you'll find something you love! thank you for submitting this order, i've been meaning to write more toto, there's something about him that just draws me in!
banana and chocolate muffins ("i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them.") + whisky (degrading language) served by toto wolff (formula one)!
cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk/degrading language, mean!toto, age gap (20s/50s), doggy style, jealousy, possessive!toto, spaking/punishment
he had been looking for you in the paddock. it was after the belgian grand prix, the celebrations were underway but mister wolff's precious girl was nowhere to be found.
"schatzi! schatzi!" he called out as he walked through the area. the worst he expected was to find you curled up in a mercedes driver's room fast asleep. all the recent traveling had taken a lot out of you.
what he didn't expect was you giggling at the jokes of none other than max verstappen.
maybe it was a jealousy thing, you and max were closer in age. he was currently a superstar, there was a pull to him that no one else on the grid could deny. the flying dutchman, mad max, whatever else they wanted to call him.
so maybe it was a little overboard with what toto did after the race in your hotel room. he watched your legs kick out as his large hand laid another slap across your ass cheeks.
he kept you pinned to his lap by resting his other forearm on the center of your shoulders. he groped your ass a little rougher than normal and said, "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them. i don't need you running off with some pretty boy, schatzi. you're mine, remember?"
you whimpered a little bit, "i wasn't going to run off with him. i'd never, honey. i love you too much."
he palmed your bruised cheek, he sighed, "drivers nowadays only think about one thing, my love. they'd eat you up and spit you out." he landed another smack across your cheek, "you're safer with me. someone who actually knows how to be with a woman. you need a man, not a boy."
you whimpered, "i know, toto. i know that, that's why i only want to be with you. max was just telling me a funny story and i lost track of time! i'm sorry!" then yelped when he brought his hand down once more.
toto really couldn't be mad at you for too long, even with envy nipping at his heels. it wasn't like you were naked on top of his car and letting him fuck you. or worse, wearing the red bull logo across those pretty tits.
but verstappen would never see you naked, not while toto still haunts the earth. no, no, that was for his eyes only as he admired your backside across his lap. your poor cheeks were going to be purple come the plane ride back home.
he dragged a finger across your slit, and said, "you'd never let another man touch you, right? you're not going to whore yourself out to the paddock, right? i need to hear it say it." he said as he sank two fingers into you.
you squirmed, but didn't get far. toto was bigger and stronger than you, you nodded and toto sank a third finger in which made your breath get caught in your throat.
"what was that, schatzi?" he asked, "i need you to use your words. can you use your words for me, or if your little brain not working?" it was so patronizing. but it made you hot all over.
his words melted in your brain and spread along the neurons that connected your head together. it was like spreading warm honey. you panted, "no one else, i promise. i promise no one else. i don't want leclerc or verstappen or norris." you were almost in tears. the stimulation left your core shaken.
toto made a pleased noise, his erection in his slacks pressed hard against you. he gave his fingers a few more pumps before he took them out and said, "then i never want you alone with any other driver that isn't on my team. alright? i know russell and hamilton, i don't trust the likes of verstappen. horner doesn't keep his boys in check." maybe it was because max had declined any and all offers to come to mercedes.
you nodded, "i'll be good."
toto chuckled and pushed hair out of your face. there was a bit more affection in his tone as he said, "good girl. that's what i like to hear. you're so good for me."
you squirmed a little, but were soon moved with ease as toto got you on your hands and knees with your bruised ass in the air. you looked divine, like the apple of temptation right before his eyes.
he took off his shirt, and you wiggled your behind at him. he leaned over and grabbed one of your cheeks which made you arch your back further. when he pulled away, he took his belt off. eventually he was naked and on the bed behind you.
he rubbed your hip with his nimble fingers as he loomed over you like a comforting shadow. he loved feeling this close to you, "you're beautiful." he said, "the most beautiful thing on the paddock. more beautiful than the girls that those boys bring around. more than the cars and the champagne, all of it." he kissed the back of your shoulder, such a tender moment considering only moments earlier he was bruising your ass.
"please, toto." you moaned as you felt his blunt cock head up against your slick pussy. you held onto the pillow under your head tightly.
he chuckled and rubbed his cock up against your entrance, "so pretty." he said, "but, you know that. you know how beautiful i think you are." he sank his cock into you and you moaned deep into the covers.
you felt the heat thump in your chest as you took his entire length. quite an impressive feat for someone of your size. but, you were beyond all else, toto's good girl.
he placed both of his hands on your hips and really moved against you. he watched how your body moved with every hard thrust. oh, you were beautiful. angelic, you were beyond amazing and you made toto's body feel flushed.
you whimpered, "i love you, toto. i don't want anyone else. none of them can compare to you." you bent your back to looked up at him. the sight made him shudder as he continued to move against you. fucking you into the hotel room bed.
the bed wasn't like the one back home, but it was a soft surface for him to thrust up into you. toto loved fucking you, he loved the feeling of your wet cunt around his painfully hard cock.
he'd joke and tell you that your pussy was the fountain of youth. it kept him young as he bullied the blunt tip up against your gummy soft cervix.
you rubbed your face up against the pillows and shuddered, "please, honey. ah! shit, you feel so good." you whimpered.
toto tensed up for a moment at your sweet words. he might be a jealous, possessive old bastard, but he loved you. he loved you so deeply, you were his pulse that kept him going everyday.
he kissed at your back as he continued to move against you. you felt like a dream. he continued to go as deep as he could go, his hands held onto your hips as he bullied his cock into you.
the entire thing left your core dripping,
he knew you from every angle, every inch of your being. he knew exactly how to make you scream. so it wasn't hard that you were so close to finishing.
and he didn't let up. he continued to press against you, his cock buried inside of you. his heart was in his throat, even if there was a twinge of pain in his hip. (maybe he wasn't as much of a young stallion as he thought he was).
"so beautiful." he purred, "do you like that, schatzi, when i fuck you the way you deserve?"
you let out a small moan in response and it made toto feel hot all over. god, you were perfect.
"please!" you came loudly, clinging onto the bed under you. you panted heavily into the pillows. orgasm claws through you and made you feel heated all over. only he could make you feel that good. he was right, those little boys on the grid could never do what he did.
how he could pull every orgasm out of you, how he had you wrapped around his fingers like a cute garden snake. he loved you so, which was why he had to make sure those idiot drivers didn't hurt you. only toto knew that he could take such good care of you.
"toto." you whimpered.
he gave it a few more hard thrusts before he leaned over you and finished inside of you. he had you pressed into the bed with your hips angled with his cock.
you whimpered and felt the after waves of the intense orgasm. your body was achy but in a great way. even though your cheeks were to be bruised come morning. you knew that toto would kiss away any and all pain. just as he always did.
he laid out beside you on the bed and got those long arms around you. he made you feel so small when he spooned you from behind. you could feel his cum up against your inner thigh.
between soft pants you said, "no one can take you from me, honey." you pressed your face against his chest. your fingers grazed across his chest hair.
he chuckled, "good. that's what i like to hear." he curled around you and placed kisses on your face. he said, "a woman like you needs a man. not a boy."
you giggled and looked at him, "and you're more than man enough for me. plus, i don't think that any of them could compete in the downstairs department." you covered your face at your words.
he pulled your hands away from your face then held them while he kissed you. it was true, a woman like you needed a man. and the man you needed was him (sorry, verstappen!). <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#torger toto wolff#toto wolff smut#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff fanfic#toto wolff#formula one imagine#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#f1 smut#f1 rpf#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#reader insert#f1 reader insert
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4. heat of the kitchen (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)
(part 1 here) | (part 2 here) | (part 3 here)
summary: the day of the gala, but something unexpected happens, leaving you a responsibility that could either make or break your career.
words: 5k
warnings: fluff, a hint of angst.
You had just started falling into a restless sleep when your phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, making you jump awake in surprise. Squinting your blurry eyes at the bright screen, you felt a prickle of worry when you saw the time - 4:17am. This couldn't be good news at this hour.
Sure enough, it was Harry's number flashing on the caller ID. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you swiped to answer and brought the phone to your ear. "Hello?"
"[Y/N], hey..." Even through the tinny distortion of the phone line, you could hear the grimness and exhaustion in Harry's voice. "Look, I...there's been an emergency with my family back home. My mom is really sick and not doing well."
You sat up straight in bed now, any remaining grogginess from sleep instantly swept away by a crushing wave of dismay. You listened in silence as he explained in brief phrases about needing to get on the next available flight to go back to New York right away. He said he wasn't sure when he'd be able to return to Chicago.
"I just didn't have a chance to let you know about this earlier," Harry's low, raspy voice crackled with regret. "I've already spoken with Thomason to take over running things at the event today, but...I'm so sorry, [Y/N]. The timing of this could not possibly be worse."
"No no, please don't even worry about that right now," you interjected quickly, your mind already whirling with the huge implications of what he was saying. Today was the extremely important Martin gala event - without Harry there to oversee the execution of his highly complicated, avant-garde centrepiece dish, the whole thing could spectacularly fall apart in front of all the big-name food critics and chefs of Chicago.
And yet...none of that professional stuff mattered at all compared to the intensely personal crisis your mentor was going through right now. "Is everything...I mean, is your mom going to be okay?" you asked hesitantly, not wanting to pry too much but deeply concerned.
Harry let out a shaky sigh that made your chest clench with empathy for what he must be feeling. "I don't know yet. They're running some medical tests on her this morning to get more answers, but...it doesn't look good so far based on what they've told me."
There was a heavy pause before he added in a rough, strained voice, "Looks like I've got another big battle ahead of me here."
Despite the gravity of the situation, you felt a pang of fondness at those terse words that sounded so quintessentially like Harry - tackling this heart-wrenching personal turmoil with the same determination and head-on approach he always brought to challenges in the kitchen.
"I'll be okay," Harry stated in a tone that made it clear he didn't want or expect any sympathy or reassurance from you about it. "Right now, all I need is for you to promise me that the gala event today is going to be a complete success no matter what else is happening. Can you handle being fully in charge of running the whole operation and making sure my vision for the centerpiece dish comes out perfectly?"
He didn't need to go into more detail - you knew full well the enormity of the responsibility he was asking you to take on here. Tremors of nerves joined the waves of sympathy and concern roiling through you at the weight of this task. But you didn't hesitate at all before answering.
"You have my word, Chef," you vowed solemnly. "I'll treat this dish and event with the same intense, laser-focused commitment you've been drilling into me from day one - and I absolutely won't let you down."
This time, Harry's answering exhale held the faintest trace of pride and...something more you couldn't quite put your finger on. "I know you won't let me down. I'm gonna have to go take care of things now, but I'll call again later to check in on how preparations are going over there. In the meantime, just stay calm, stay focused, and execute everything exactly like we've practiced over and over again these past weeks."
"I will. And Harry--" you hesitated momentarily before plunging ahead. "I really hope...well, just please take care of yourself too, okay? Sending you all my best wishes for your mom to get through this."
There was a beat of surprised silence before he responded in a gruff but sincere voice, "Yeah...thanks, [Y/N]. I appreciate that."
With that, the call clicked off abruptly, leaving you alone amid the predawn stillness with nothing but the immense weight of the trust and responsibility Harry had placed on your shoulders.
This was by far the biggest professional challenge you'd ever faced in your culinary career. Not just having to pull off executing Harry's avant-garde, innovative, wildly complex dish to absolute perfection under the intense scrutiny of the biggest names and players in Chicago's food world - but doing so while your mentor battled a hugely serious personal crisis unfolding all the way across the country in New York. Just the thought of it made your stomach churn with anxious adrenaline and nerves.
Still...despite the daunting nature of this task, you couldn't help but feel a sense of opportunity arising as well. This was an unexpected and unprecedented chance for you to truly prove yourself at the highest possible level, to rise up and show you had the skills and mental toughness to handle the most intense culinary pressure situations. You'd worked too damn hard, invested too many long hours of sweat and failures in kitchens everywhere to let this monumental opportunity slip through your fingers.
A feeling of steely resolve settled over you as you climbed out of bed and began methodically getting ready to start your day. No matter what curveball life had thrown at Harry derailing his own ability to participate, your role and mission remained unchanged - you made a solemn vow to him, and you utterly refused to let him down when he was counting on you most in this dire moment. This gala would go off flawlessly, the vision and game plan he'd meticulously drilled into you executed with precise mastery down to every last detail. Abject failure was simply not an option today.
***
By the time the first pale streaks of dawn began filtering through your windows, you were fully dressed and shoving a high-protein bar into your mouth as fuel while heading out the door to the event venue. Despite the early hour, there was already a palpable buzz and energy of activity when you arrived, crews of staffers and organizers darting around in a highly choreographed frenzy as they put the very final touches and preparations in place.
You spotted Thomason's towering, intimidating form immediately - the harsh sous chef resembled a military general marshaling the troops, barking out orders and keeping everything flowing in an orderly yet intense manner. Straightening your spine, you crossed over purposefully to greet him directly. Thomason's eyes flicked over you appraisingly before giving a short, sharp nod of acknowledgment. "Good, you're here. Let's get you situated and start running through all your station assignments."
Without any further preamble or wasted words, he turned sharply on his heel and strode off at a brisk pace, clearly expecting you to fall into step directly behind him with no delays. Suppressing a resigned sigh, you did just that, matching his stride as Thomason immediately launched into a rapid-fire rundown and delegation of every single responsibility that would fall under your purview for the entire day.
It was...honestly, a staggering amount of crucial tasks and oversight duties to absorb all at once this early in the morning, especially given the giant extenuating circumstance and crisis situation hanging overhead with Harry's absence. But Thomason pressed on in his typical brusque, no-nonsense manner.
Apparently Harry had already briefed the imposing, burly sous chef on the pertinent details of the personal situation he was dealing with, as evidenced by Thomason's uncharacteristic patience whenever you had to pause to fully digest certain instructions or ask for any clarification on assignments. But the gruff kitchen veteran otherwise made no comforting allowances, simply conveying the huge pile of duties you'd need to stay on top of from morning prep straight through to the evening's high-stakes dinner service.
By the time he finally finished laying out the overwhelming laundry list of tasks you were accountable for, a tenuous sense of control had settled over your earlier panic and worries. You could do this. Logistically speaking, it would be the most daunting and high-pressure culinary challenge you'd ever faced by far - but thanks to all the intense training and preparation Harry had put you through, you genuinely felt as ready as you could possibly be. All that remained now was keeping your head down and executing flawlessly with the same pinpoint focus and work ethic he'd instilled in you through those grueling practice runs.
With a grim nod of determination, you turned and started overseeing your assigned kitchen crew in setting up the intricate series of mise en place stations that would be required for pulling off Harry's avant-garde, wildly complex centerpiece dish. All around you, the buzz of frantic activity swelled as area after area of the massive venue was brought online in final preparation for the rapidly approaching arrival times of guests and participants.
Though you kept waiting for the spike of nerves and adrenaline to hit, surprisingly, a strange sense of calm numbness had instead descended over you - the kind that often surfaced in the middle of an intense, all-hands-on-deck dinner rush back at the restaurant. In these do-or-die, make-it-or-break-it kinds of situations, there simply was no spare mental bandwidth available for anything beyond the critical task directly in front of you in that very moment. Distracting thoughts and nerves got shunted aside as survival instincts took over.
And just like that, you lost yourself in the soothing, almost meditative rhythm of prep work, falling into that laser-focused state of dicing, slicing, arranging each individual ingredient component with painstaking, meticulous care according to the detailed specifications Harry had drilled into you over and over. At one point, you absently accepted a bottled water from one of your line cooks with a murmured thanks, but otherwise operated on auto-pilot.
You weren't entirely sure how much time had elapsed before Thomason's gruff bark of "Ten minutes!" roused you from your intense, trance-like focus. All around, your crew instantly kicked into an even higher gear, ferrying the completed mise en place components to the designated plating stations in an efficient flurry of motion. You barely registered Thomason sidling up next to you with an evaluating look on his imposing features.
"You did decent prep work so far, kid," he acknowledged in a tone of voice that was only marginally less dismissive than his usual demeanor. "Now let's see if you can actually plate this bastard of a complicated dish without totally screwing the pooch."
With that uniquely Thomason-style pep talk, he gave your shoulder a clap and then strode off to take his place at the all-important expediting position for the evening's service, leaving you warmed by the backhanded compliment. Coming from the notoriously harsh and miserly-with-praise Thomason, those words were basically the equivalent of an ecstatic rave.
Any boost of confidence was welcome at this point, as the first wave of elite guests began trickling into the dining area right on schedule. You could feel the atmosphere in the room shifting, charging with buzzing energy and anticipation as these influential culinary figures saw the artfully designed space, flipped through the rundown of tonight's prix fixe menu, and speculated about what boundary-pushing creation Harry had surely concocted for his centrepiece auction dish.
Your own adrenaline kicked into high gear as you took your place at the head plating station, flanked by your hand-picked crew who would assist in the extremely intricate assemble of all the individual components coming together. A hush fell over the kitchen as you exchanged looks with your team, giving a final nod of readiness.
"First courses..." came the terse callout from the expo line. And with that, you immediately snapped into focus, hands moving with the precision drilled into them through countless practice runs as you began plating the initial courses.
From there, the entire high-stakes evening blurred into a cyclone of intense concentration and rapid-fire execution, broken only by the occasional smattering of polite applause from the dining room as each new course made its debut to apparent delight. But you remained steadfastly disengaged from all of that, shutting it out entirely as you moved with economical grace from one fastidiously assembled plate to the next in a state of total flow.
You were aware on some level of Thomason periodically prowling the line, sharp eyes scrutinizing every last component with the intensity of a decorated drill sergeant. But his presence was almost soothing in a way, a low-key affirmation that you and your crew were hitting every lofty mark thus far.
Finally, after what felt like both a grueling endurance marathon and the naturally seamless completion of a singular, continuous motion...it was time. All the other courses had been executed flawlessly, clearing the way for the pièce de résistance - Harry's avant-garde centerpiece dish that would cap off the evening. You took a deep, steadying breath as the first calls came in from the expo line.
"Fire one centerpiece!"
Your hands moved with the precision of a surgeon, each practiced motion flowing seamlessly into the next as you began assembling the first plate of the showstopper course. Around you, your crew worked in the same laser-focused unison, handling each individual component with utmost care and attention to detail.
Despite the mounting pressure with every new order fire, that strange sense of calm numbness persisted. There was no mental bandwidth to spare on anything extraneous - your entire world had contracted to these series of sequential tasks laid out before you, each one flowing naturally into the next like a continuous stream.
Plating tweezers arranged the final delicate pour of herb-infused olive oil spheres with the same singular focus as you squeezed the pipette to apply the perfectly calibrated dot of acidic reduction. Not a single movement was wasted, not a component out of place as you slid the finished avant-garde masterpiece across to the expo line for final approval before heading out to the dining room.
"Looked good from here, kid," Thomason's gruff voice sounded in your ear amidst the orchestrated chaos, startling you slightly. You blinked, barely registering the stocky sous chef's towering presence overseeing your shoulder before turning your attention immediately back to the next set of hands firing.
On and on it went in that same relentless yet steady cadence, each nouveau plate a pristine reflection of the focus, intensity, and cumulative skill that had been honed into you over months of Harry's rigorous training. Sweat beaded along your hairline, apron dampening as you moved with increasing speed and efficiency under the mounting pressure of continuous fires.
You were only vaguely aware of the soft crashing waves of polite applause rolling in from the nearby dining room each time a new creation hit the tables. Your ears were trained to more important sounds - the sharp callouts from expo, the curt exchanges between yourself and your crew attempting to maintain the incredible pace.
At one point, you registered Thomason's heavy tread beside you once more, his grizzled voice pitched low to be heard over the controlled pandemonium. "Pretty damn flawless so far, I'll give you that. But don't let your foot off the gas now, we still got a ways to go yet."
A simple grunt of acknowledgment was all you could spare in response as you plated two more centerpiece dishes in rapid succession, sliding them across for inspection. Thomason made a noise of begrudging approval before turning away, freeing you to tunnel-vision once more.
Swaying slightly on your feet from the physical toll and intense focus, you blinked away the spotties at the edge of your vision. There was simply no other choice - failure was not an option, not after everything you and Harry had invested into this critical moment.
How much time had elapsed, you couldn't say. All you knew was the continuous cycle of order fires, the increasingly efficient rhythm of your movements and those of your crew. The end goal of seeing this groundbreaking creation delivered to the last diner with the same polish as the first lone plate.
It was only when the final callout came over the line that reality slowly bled back in around the edges. "Last one, centerpiece! Fire for the panel..."
The clatter of your toolkit was shockingly loud in the relative stillness as you began assembling that climactic plate with even more painstaking care than before. Every component was a masterstroke, each paso doble between you and your crew unfolding in step.
You barely registered Thomason's presence hovering nearby, posture radiating tension and scrutiny, as you slid the final centerpiece across for his inspection. A short eternity seemed to pass as the steely-eyed veteran examined the plate with unsparing intensity from all angles.
At last, he gave a single deferential nod before calling out the fire to the dining room. "Chef's centerpiece...walking!"
A rousing swell of applause rolled back from beyond the partition as you straightened up, only now allowing the descending sense of accomplishment to wash over you fully. It was done - Harry's groundbreaking, avant-garde vision had been executed to utter perfection.
The surrounding kitchen area seemed to slowly reanimate as the rest of the corps d'équipe emerged from their own hypnotrance–states, exchanging tired grins and backslaps of congratulations. For his part, Thomason wore an expression that bordered on...approving?You could never tell.
"You pulled it off, kid," he rumbled in that trademark gravelly baritone. The stocky chef's clap on your shoulder managed to convey impressed respect more clearly than any flowery praise. "Flawless service from top to bottom. I'll be sure to pass that along to Chef Patino when I touch base."
Your face must have reflected the gratified shock you felt at the gruff compliment, as Thomason's mouth twisted wryly before adding, "Don't look so damn stunned. You did good work holding it all together out there tonight. Real good work."
With that, he gave your shoulder one final squeeze before turning to address the rest of the crew and applauds rippled through the kitchen area. But you barely heard any of it over the dull roar in your ears - the mixture of bone-deep exhaustion and sheer disbelief at what you'd all just managed to pull off against seemingly insurmountable odds.
Gradually, the bustle of post-service breakdown routines fired up around you. But you remained still in the eye of that storm for several long moments, simply allowing the profound weight of your accomplishment tonight to sink in fully.
Despite the challenges, the unexpected crises that had threatened to derail everything...your tenacity and the depth of your training had ultimately prevailed. Harry's faith in you had been rewarded with an unmitigated triumph.
The realization brought a surge of fierce pride, tempered only by the hope that your mentor had managed to find some shred of comfort amidst his own turmoil tonight. You knew Harry well enough to be certain he would be dissecting every component, evaluating each nuance of the dish's execution with his trademark intensity even from afar.
And suddenly, you very much needed to hear his voice - to fill him in on all the details, reassure him that you'd kept your word right down to crossing every final T. To...well, to simply share in this significant victory with the man whose driving ambition and belief had made it all possible.
As if summoned by sheer force of will, your phone began buzzing from your back pocket with a familiar caller ID flashing. Stepping aside from the lingering chaos, you swiped to accept the call with your heart lodged squarely in your throat.
"Harry? It's me..."
The voice on the other end sounded tinny and wrung-out, yet still utterly suffused with that unmistakable gravel-rough timbre. "How'd it go, kiddo?"
Despite the bone-weary fatigue dragging at your every muscle, you felt a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you took in the sight of your crew unabashedly celebrating their collective win. "See for yourself."
With a few quick taps, you switched the call over to FaceTime, angling the camera to capture the wild scene surrounding you. Raucous cheers and whoops of victory filled the feed as Harry got an eyeful of his triumphant kitchen corps living it up.
For a long moment, he was silent on the other end, drinking in the rowdy scene. Then, his low chuckle finally filtered through, slightly watery but brimming with unmistakable pride.
"That's my crew," Harry rasped in a voice gone thick. "Well done, team. Well done."
You grinned fiercely at the screen, willing him to feel every ounce of your conviction as you responded. "We did you proud, Chef. Start to finish."
And just like that, the shaky exhale he released said everything his gruff words couldn't. For all his outward bravado and grit, your mentor's steadfast belief had been vindicated tonight - and his faith in you rewarded beyond even his own expectations.
For the first time in weeks, that shaky tension seemed to finally loosen its grip on both of you. Though the road ahead might still be fraught, this evening's triumph had forged an unbreakable bond of shared understanding and trust.
The entire grueling process of preparing for and executing the ambitious centerpiece dish had pushed both your skills, stamina and mental toughness to their limits. But instead of fracturing under such tremendous shared pressure, your mentor-mentee dynamic had been distilled down to its essential core - that of two committed culinary artists striving relentlessly towards the same creative vision, and ultimately emerging unified in the wake of that lofty achievement.
In that moment, any unresolved tensions or lingering frissons of attraction between you were rendered almost quaint, overwhelmed by the profound sense of creative synergy and hard-won victory. Those undercurrents would inevitably resurface later once the high had faded. But for now, you could simply bask in the warm glow of knowing you'd risen to every challenge thrown your way and come out on top.
Harry must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, the way your posture had relaxed slightly without sacrificing any of that fierce determination. His gruff chuckle sounded again through the phone's speaker, drawing your attention back to his careworn but glowing expression.
"Listen, pet..." he began in that trademark rasp, once again hitting you with the nickname that made your heart skip a beat,. "I gotta go take care of some stuff on this end. But we're gonna crack open a couple bottles when I'm back, you and me. We've earned it after pulling off a goddamn miracle like this one."
The very thought of the two of you sharing drinks and cutting loose for once, without the weight of impending culinary obligations hanging overhead, struck you as incredibly appealing after tonight's intensity. A warm smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you gave an emphatic nod.
"You know I'm gonna hold you to that, Chef. I'm thinking top-shelf stuff too, none of that bottom-rung swill."
Harry threw back his head with another peal of laughter. "You got it, you earned it. Gimme a couple days to get things sorted and I'll take you somewhere swanky to celebrate, on me. My way of saying thanks for proving me right about you, Y/n."
Before you could respond, Harry's gaze grew pensive, amusement fading slightly as he searched your expression with uncharacteristic earnestness. "And I mean it, you know. Not just about the drinks, but...well, you really came through in the clutch tonight. I knew you had the skills to pull it off, but seeing you actually do it against those crazy odds? You exceeded every expectation. I couldn't be prouder if you were my own flesh and blood."
You felt your cheeks warming at the uncommon depth of sincerity in his gravelly voice. Though Harry had never been one for emotional vulnerability, in this moment you could see the profound gratitude shining through loud and clear.
"That really means a lot coming from you, Harry," you managed in a slightly hushed tone, momentarily rendered speechless by the unexpected warmth radiating from him. "You know I'd never want to let you down, especially when you were counting on me most."
The tender moment stretched out in weighted silence, intimate currents flowing back and forth even through the crackle of the video feed. Until eventually, Harry seemed to resurface from that unguarded well of sincerity, giving a slightly blustery clearing of his throat.
"Well anyway, you did the heavy lifting tonight," he rallied in his typical all-business timbre, the hoarse bravado back in full force. "I'll leave you and the crew to enjoy your big victory bash. Just try not to get too out of hand with the partying."
He started to shift away from the camera, clearly preparing to disengage, when his hazel-eyed gaze flicked back to pin you with an unreadable look. A ghost of a smirk played around the edges of his mouth as he seemed to drink you in through the video feed.
"Oh, and one more thing, darlin'..."
You felt your breath catch at the rich, velvety timbre Harry imbued that endearment with - a departure from the casual, teasing way he usually deployed such pet names. This particular iteration seemed to caress something deeper, more weighted between you.
"I'm real proud of how you rose above and killed it tonight," he murmured in that same honeyed rasp that raised goosebumps along your skin. His gaze raked over you with unmistakable heat and intent. "Showed me that laser-focused mental strength and fortitude I always suspected was in there."
Harry shook his tousled head slowly, lips still curved in that secretive half-smile. "Gotta admit, I clearly underestimated you in the past, darlin'. Won't be making that mistake again."
The suggestive timbre in which he issued that statement was utterly at odds with the mentor-protegee context you'd been operating in mere moments ago. You felt your breath hitch as a warmth bloomed across your cheeks, suddenly hyper-aware that you were still surrounded by your raucous crew celebrating nearby.
Surely you were reading far too much into Harry's words and tone...except his eyes were gleaming with a combination of heat and challenge as they roamed over your features in a way that made you feel stripped bare. As if he knew full well the dizzying, electrifying effect he could have on you - even through a mere video call - and was shamelessly exercising that power.
You opened your mouth to respond, though what you could possibly say to that molten statement you had no idea. Thankfully, Harry seemed to recognize he was quickly veering into the old inappropriate territory and reigned himself in with a rough throat-clearing.
"Anyway, go have fun with the crew and I'll holler at you in a couple days once I get things sorted out on this end," he concluded, all traces of that heated bravado tucked away once more behind his typical gruff exterior. "You've more than earned it, darlin'."
Another searing look accompanied the purring emphasis he gave that endearment before Harry flashed you a stunningly lopsided grin - then the video feed clicked off, leaving you slightly dazed and flustered in its wake.
A long moment passed where you simply stared at the blank screen, cheeks still burning as your mind raced over the cadence of that parting exchange. From the heartfelt gratitude and rare showering of praise...to that inexplicably molten aside loaded with suggestion, it had all left you feeling deliciously unmoored and off-kilter.
You remained in that uncertain headspace for a while longer, the buzz of your crew's raucous celebration providing a soundtrack as the hours ticked by. Though you made a concerted effort to remain present, to revel in this hard-won moment of glory alongside your teammates, part of your consciousness couldn't help but keep circling back to that searing parting remark from Harry.
You kept thinking about the way he spoke, wondering if there was a hidden meaning behind his words. Suddenly, your long-suppressed feelings for the charismatic chef surged with volcanic intensity, consuming every rational thought until only one truth remained.
You decided you were done hiding your desire for Harry– done keeping that ravenous wanting locked away in the name of professionalism.The next time you saw your mentor, you promised yourself you would be completely honest. No more beating around the bush. Only complete, blazing honesty.
You would openly admit the burning attraction you'd felt since first meeting his intense gaze months ago. You would confront the growing tension from all his suggestive comments.
No more hiding behind being professional. You would put everything out in the open, once and for all. Either Harry felt the same fiery passion...or he didn't, and you could finally move on.
Once and for all.
But the need to finally uncover the truth burned within you, even if it meant risking everything and leaving your heart in ashes - because the constant wondering and uncertainty had become a suffocating torment you could no longer endure. Making that decision lifted a weight off your shoulders momentarily, but you steeled yourself knowing the real challenge still lay ahead, a daunting path that could either lead you to euphoric fulfilment or utter devastation.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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Insatiable Madness Intermission!
(Intermissions contain percentages for a certain point in the story! This Intermission is only accurate after View 10 and before View 11.)
Please keep in mind that these will change for better, or worse, as the story develops.
And remember, someone with a percentage of 50% could have the same feelings as someone with a percentage of 100%! Each character expresses, feels and thinks differently from eachother due to their different personalities.
It is important for you, the viewer, to decide whether a harbinger has turned yandere or not. I will not reveal much, for I mustn't disturb your own thoughts.
However, I can reveal that there are currently 2 Yanderes detected, and more will soon follow... In fact, I feel it might be sooner than you realise.
~ PIERRO AND PULCINELLA ARE PLATONIC ~
Pierro - 19%
He truly does see Y/N's value as a pawn to the Tsaritsa's plans back in Teyvat, but finds their behaviour appalling. Sometimes, The Jester questions whether the Tsaritsa would appreciate them dead rather than alive in her palace once they return home.
They're an eyesore. Not only that, but they constantly complain of his presence in their house. It's not his fault, the incompetent doctor didn't think of his machine only working one way. It's because of these very reasons he decided to take refuge in your father's office. Of course, you complained the following afternoon when you realised that's where he's settling. Unfortunately for you, he's indifferent to your complaining and just pushes you out the room if you distract him from his work. Don't you have better things to do? Go bother someone else, he's sure some of the other Harbinger's have been dying to ask you more questions.
'Always yapping in my ear. When are they going to repent their useless actions, be quiet, and stop resisting the fact I've taken the calmest room in the house? It's not my fault I brought my work with me unlike some of the others.'
Pierro doesn't care for this world. Although, the technology and freedom the people seem to have reminds him of Khaenri'ah, that thought alone helps him relax when he's alone in the evening. Perhaps when Dottore sorts out his defective machine, he'll return alone to reminisce of what could have been?
Capitano - 12%
He believes Y/N is weak, and unexpectedly powerless considering their intelligence within the fate of Teyvat. Before walking through Dottore's portal, The Captain was prepared for a noble battle. However, finding you shivering in fear was not what he was expecting.
They're pathetic. They make him feel useless in this world. He's a trained soldier, an army general, a legendary and respected tale among not only the Fatui but elsewhere in Teyvat. Without a battle or a conflict, there is physically nothing he can do here. Sure, he could always fight with Childe and give him the satisfaction he's been waiting for, but Capitano doesn't feel Tartaglia is worthy of such a spar yet. Not to mention the fact you've already professed your dislike of violence, Capitano believes people in this world are wimps.
'Once again I have been refused and turned away from the front door, how else should I spend my time today...? I'll ask Lohefalter for some advice.'
Capitano feels as if this world is stationary. It seems too safe for his liking, no monsters, no powers, nothing. But is it as it actually seems? Or is this world far more dangerous than he could ever imagine due to the disguise it covers itself in?
Dottore - 39%
He believes The Decider has untouched potential. Yet, The Doctor can’t help but feel as if experimenting on them would be fruitless. He feels conflicted, and often chooses to observe their behaviour from afar with a notepad he stole from their office and a pen he brought with him.
They’re quite interesting. Dottore can’t remember the last time he was forced to observe the behaviour of someone before cutting them open. This whole experience has been a massive realisation for him, and perhaps a sadistic awakening. From now on, he’s decided that when he gets a new lab rat he’ll torment them first to get inspiration for his experiments. After all, his younger clones aren’t the most… imaginative logic wise in terms of ideas. But, you refuse to answer his questions! How is he supposed to get results if you avoid him all the time? He doesn't understand, you don't seem to be avoiding anyone else, why are you excluding him solely? ...It seems as if he'll have to rely on the 'television' for now.
‘Their lips seem to be shaking at a faster pace. They must be feeling a rapidly increasing fear in our presence. How… strange. This is common behaviour among regular people, why would The Decider of all biological beings display the same patterns?’
Dottore is keen to discover more secrets about this world, and has no doubt in his mind that there is an important link between it and Teyvat. All he needs is more evidence to make his argument... that, and with the portal working in the first place of course. How is he supposed to record his results when his portal can't take him home?
Columbina - ???
She believes The Decider is special. Very, very, special. The Damselette doesn't recognise and cannot pinpoint why she feels the way she does, but what she does know is it feels exhilarating.
They're amusing, the way they struggle and how it's clear they want to protest the Harbinger's actions. Watching their realisation that fighting back is hopeless brings her great satisfaction, it feeds her sadism in a delightful way and is a good temporary source to get that kind of pleasure considering the fact that she can't tease any of her soldiers at the moment. Often, she'll find herself stood outside of your bedroom, unable to prevent her curiosity from leading her there. She hasn't decided to go in yet, respecting your privacy for the time being. But, if you keep leading her on she'll have no choice but to disrespect that privacy and do some investigating.
'Hmm, this room is awfully stuffy but it'll have to do. Does the Decider really spend their time in here? Oooh, what's that smaller television doing there? The Jester seems to have placed his papers all over this desk, how insulting for them. Pfuhuhu...~'
Columbina doesn't mind this world. In fact, she prefers it. Here, unlike in Teyvat, she has the freedom to do whatever she wants and has an interesting mortal to keep her company. What? She's not that stupid, unlike the other Harbingers she's fully aware just how powerless Y/N actually is. She wonders how long it will take for the others to notice, and looks forward to the chaos that will follow soon after.
Arlecchino - 25%
She knows her true feelings. The Knave simply doesn't care for The Decider, she's too busy fretting over the House of Hearth functioning appropriately whilst she's away in another world.
They annoy her a lot, however unlike some Harbingers, she covers it with disinterest as her annoyance could instill more fear into them. She's used to the look of fear, and has no intention of making them feel it due to her unable to control her temper. She's controlled her behaviour in front of others before, you shouldn't be any different. So why is it, whenever you look into her eyes, is it harder for her to remain uninterested with you? Before, it was noticeable and minor, therefore she could push it away. But now? It's getting harder to manage, she tries to stay away from you any time she can. She often warns you not to look into her eyes, just as she does for anyone else. And yet, you have made no effort to correct your mistakes. Arlecchino often wonders if you're just a very forgetful person, that, or you're just an idiot.
'I mustn't let the children stay in my mind for too long. For now, I have to focus on The Decider and returning them to The Tsaritsa for the mission.'
Arlecchino pays no attention to this world. She has seen The Jester feel emotional towards its progression but can not see it in the same light. All she wants is to finish the mission so she can return to the House of Hearth and focus on the Hydro Archon's Gnosis.
Pulcinella - 40%
He finds their behaviour appalling. Y/N in The Rooster's mind is incredibly childish, he finds their 'coping methods' blatantly rude and unforgiving.
They're impossible to deal with at times. Maybe, if they had a clear idea of their own predicament and the Harbingers predicament, they would understand that none of the harbingers want to be there in the first place! The very idea of you being in the same area as him riles him up... However, he has grown to appreciate your behaviour considering it reminds him of home. Yes, you can often act worse than a 7 year old, but he does understand that you're not in a good place right now. And you shouldn't be faulted for that. Would he ever explain that to you? No, definitely not. These feelings he harbours causes him to feel protective over you at times. Pulcinella can't explain it, there's something about you that makes him so angry yet so forgiving. If you ever make it out alive under the Tsaritsa's guise, he might consider making you a high ranking attendant under him. Perhaps you'll even rise to his right-hand? No, he mustn't get his hopes up. You're bound to die the second you enter Snezhnaya.
'Did they just prohibit us from entering in the garden? I have to interject, prohibiting us from entering their bedroom is completely expected, but the garden? Absolutely not.'
Pulcinella doesn't care about this world. As a mayor, he's more focused on the heap of work he'll have to do when he returns. The very thought sends uncomfortable shivers down his spine, considering the fact that he always completes his work on time in his schedule.
Scaramouche - 47%
He sees The Decider's existence as worthless. The Balladeer can't tell whether you're dim in the head or playing your cards weakly. You have clearly shown him you're powerless and unwilling to even try and escape your situation. Must he do everything for you?
They're too nice to the Harbingers in his opinion. Why, despite them murdering your family, do you show them kindness? Show him kindness? Not even a day later of being kidnapped and held hostage in your own home, you share your food with them. They didn't command you to do that - the majority of them don't even need to eat! You chose to give them your homecooked meal, and for that, you've somehow earned Scaramouche's respect. For the first time in almost 500 years, you caused him to hold his tongue and not point out the blatant truth, your cooking was disgusting. After following you to make sure you wouldn't run out of the house crying, he promised himself that you would never have to eat that food again. Why? Because he'll cook for you. It would be wise on The Decider's part not to question him about this though, he himself has no clue why he suddenly feels care for you despite only knowing you for a couple days. The thought disgusts him, has he not learnt his lesson?
'All of their struggling so far has done nothing for them, are they waiting for the right moment? Hm, maybe I should do something to... push them in the right direction.'
At first, Scaramouche despised this world. The people are useless here, the air he breathes in feels blotched, and the surplus of technology used is downright uncomfortable for him. Everywhere he goes, there's some kind of light staring back at him. Is there even a way to turn them off? How can you sleep when there's still light outside? He doesn't understand you. Now though, Scaramouche secretly can't bear the fact that he'll eventually have to leave you. Maybe this world isn't so bad after all...
Sandrone - 40%
She thinks that The Decider is lacking something important. The Marionette can't decide whether she likes them or not. On one hand, they're knowledgeable about this world and its beautiful technology, but on the other... they look so... plain.
They're too impractical, and display irrational behaviour. It seems to her you don't think before you speak, she despises that kind of person. Sandrone believes that the truest enemy of perfection is emotion, you support her beliefs by simply being yourself. Although, you have shown resilience, which did take her off guard at first. Despite throwing a tantrum and causing an emotional escapade, you seemed to shape up after. Perhaps you got everything out of your system? To her, this is marvellous progress. Now she can continue to ask you her own questions about this world and its discoveries.
'Ugh, that's not right either. I knew I should have drawn a diagram of the machine before taking each part away to inspect. What to do, The Decider seems too busy with the others to help me out here. Perhaps I should... deal with their problems so they can deal with mine.'
In the beginning, Sandrone despised this world. It felt weird, not to mention the possible danger of unexpected attacks. After awhile, she came to regret her outbursts at Dottore, and now enjoys every single day she gets to be here. Everyday, she has a new gadget to tinker with. The list never ends, it feels like being in her workshop! Despite wishing she could return to Teyvat as soon as possible, she definitely won't become bored anytime soon. From this unique experience, she's learnt to assess the situation more before giving a vocal opinion.
Signora - 20%
She knows something is wrong with The Decider, but she just can't put her finger on it. The Fair Lady doesn't really care either way, allowing her arrogance to control her interest.
Their immaturity got them in this mess; Signora really doesn't care what happens to them in the end. Sure, you gave them a roof to stay under during their stay in this world. But, she knows that if it were completely your choice, you'd kick all the Harbingers out the second you could. Other than that, she doesn't really have anything to say to you, and has no intention of choosing to talk to you. If she was ever forced to make conversation with you, she supposes she could give you some pointers for clothes.
'What are they wearing this time!? I can't do this anymore. If it weren't for me being stuck here, I could care less. But every single hour I have to see The Decider is pure torture! Seriously, what are they wearing?'
Signora doesn't really like this world, although, she's not that bothered either. All she wants is to get The Decider to the Tsaritsa and continue her mission in collecting the Gnoses. In fact, if Dottore fixed the machine, she would be in Inazuma right now with the Raiden Shogun's Gnosis in her very hands! ...Or so she estimates anyway.
Pantalone - 20%
He has nothing to say to The Decider. The Regrator honestly cannot be bothered to talk to them, considering the fact that he would have nothing to say. It could just be him, but he doesn't see anything special in you at all. Is Dottore sure he as the right person?
They truly are boring. If you were interested in banking, or had problems with money he could advise in some way. He's so bored just fiddling with his coins in the house. Give him something to do, anything. He would beg, but he feels that's beneath him. Do you seriously have nothing to do in your house? It's not too small, so he doesn't think you're poor, but the only thing he can do is watch the 'television'. Even then, he can't do that because Dottore's hogging it all day with a pen in hand! For the love of the Tsaritsa, get him out of this world before he dies of old age. That, or give him some work. He's itching to get back into his paperwork for the Northland Bank he put off before coming here.
'And that is the 20th time I've struck heads. Has Dottore left to bother The Decider yet? Ah, it seems he has not.'
Because of you, Pantalone is shivering in anticipation to leave this world and get back to Teyvat. However, from his conversations with the mad doctor, it seems like that won't be happening any time soon. He is this close to snapping, if Dottore won't find a solution to get them out of this world, Pantalone will have to turn to you instead. If you don't have the answers he wants, you'll have hell to pay.
Tartaglia - 42%
He enjoys Y/N's company. The Young Lord* likes spending time with you whenever he can, even if he can tell it annoys you sometimes... That doesn't matter though, because what's important is you haven't pushed him away yet!
They're funny, their behaviour to him is very amusing. He's spent hours by your side and somehow doesn't get bored! In the beginning, he only spent his time around you because he wanted to know about his future, to this day he curses his selfish behaviour. Now, he spends time with you because he wants to. Besides Capitano and Pulcinella, he hates all the Harbingers and physically can't be in the same room as them for more than an hour before feeling his Foul Legacy grow within him. But you? You nullify that feeling completely. In fact, Childe hasn't felt the abyss within him grow the entire time he's been in this world which is a miracle! Occasionally, he does feel bloodthirsty and asks you for a fight. But, after seeing you shrivel away in the mention of violence, he stops himself and goes to The Captain again. He'd rather be denied by the legendary captain compared to you. Childe can still feel electro jolt through his body when he sits down for a much needed rest, The Balladeer is too harsh on him sometimes.
'Where on earth are they? They're not in their bedroom, not in the garden, not in the kitchen, and not in their office! Did they... no, they can't have escaped. Perhaps they-- Oh, there they are! That's unusual, they never go to the bathroom at this time.'
Despite enjoying his time here with you, Childe knows that after awhile he'll begin to feel homesick and wish to see his family again. He also knows that when the time comes to return to Teyvat, he'll have to let you go and give you to the Tsaritsa. This is what is stopping him from getting to know you on a personal level, the thought makes his heart feel tight in worry for you.
*Note, I am using the meaning of 'Childe' as his official title because I cannot take 'Childe' seriously I'm sorry- I see it as a nickname since that is what Tartaglia seems to use himself.
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