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theonottsbxtch · 28 days ago

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99 PROBLEMS PT2| MV1

an: after many requests, i've changed up our beloved max. this has not been proof read so pls don't judge i am tired and have had the shittiest week of my life i swear but im slaying i promise!

wc: 5.5k

part one

The morning after was a slow burn of pain.

Noah woke up with a headache that felt like someone was hammering on his skull, each pulse a reminder of his poor life choices. His mouth was dry, and the room seemed to spin even though he was lying still. The sunlight creeping through the curtains made his head throb even harder.

He groaned and pulled the blankets over his head, trying to bury himself in the comfort of the pillow, but it was no use. The light was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, he threw the covers off and staggered to the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror was enough to make him want to crawl back into bed—hair a tangled mess, his face pale, and his eyes bloodshot. He splashed water on his face, feeling the coolness settle his nerves slightly, but he still wasn’t ready to face the world.

A thought occurred to him—he hadn’t eaten last night, and he needed food if he was going to survive this hangover. He stumbled toward the kitchen, squinting against the light.

The kitchen felt like a foreign land. The open windows made it bright, the kind of brightness that seemed determined to make him suffer. Noah squinted, trying to locate anything he could eat without being blinded.

Lights off, he thought, grumbling. He reached up, turned off the overheads, and then fumbled his way around the counters until he found the stove. The dim light coming from the street lamps outside was barely enough, but it was better than the harsh sunlight.

He opened the fridge and pulled out eggs, butter, and a bottle of orange juice, setting them on the counter. He moved with the deliberate slowness of someone trying not to trigger the next wave of nausea, and as he grabbed a frying pan, something on the counter caught his eye.

A small bag. A lipstick. A pair of earrings.

Noah froze.

He had no idea whose stuff it was at first, but the instant he saw the ID half-hidden under a paper towel, he couldn’t look away.

He reached for it cautiously, flipping it over to see the name on the card: Rosa, 21 years old.

He stared at it, blinking in disbelief.

Twenty-one.

His brain took a second to process the shock. He’d seen a lot of women come and go last night, but this was different.

His dad—Max—had slept with someone only four years older than him.

He shook his head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered, making the room feel hotter and his stomach churn.

He bent down, rubbing his temples to stave off the headache, and that’s when he saw them—clothes strewn across the floor. A dress in a heap near the kitchen table. A pair of high heels kicked to the side like someone was in a rush to get out.

Eugh, Noah thought, feeling his stomach twist in disgust.

Thank god he’d come home early with Charles. He’d heard the stories—heard about what Max was like when he had a good time—but seeing it for himself, well, it was a whole different level of uncomfortable. He would’ve had to witness this, the aftermath, the leftovers of his dad’s typical antics.

Noah closed his eyes, leaning back against the counter as if he could shut out the entire night. He’d had enough of his dad’s antics for the next year—or lifetime.

Sighing deeply, he pulled the pan from the stove and cracked the eggs into it, the sizzling sound a small distraction from his thoughts. The smell of cooking eggs filled the room, but it didn’t do much to calm his nerves. It was just another reminder that life went on, even when things felt messed up.

As he scrambled the eggs, he couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d seen—the lipstick, the earrings, the stupid ID. Four years older than me?

He made himself a plate of scrambled eggs, avoiding the now-infamous counter, and took a seat at the table. He sat there quietly for a while, the silence pressing in around him.

Noah was just finishing his eggs when he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, and to his surprise, Rosa—Max’s most recent conquest—emerged from the hallway wearing nothing but one of Max’s oversized t-shirts. She looked a little uncomfortable, and her eyes flickered nervously toward him as she stepped into the kitchen.

Noah immediately pointed toward the hallway. “The dress is right there,” he said flatly, trying not to look at her.

She hesitated, clearly flustered, and then lowered her gaze. “I—sorry, I just—uh…” She trailed off, clearly not sure how to act around Max’s son.

Noah watched her, already knowing the answer but still asking. “Why did you do that?”

Rosa bit her lip. “He’s... he’s Max Verstappen,” she said quietly, as if that somehow explained everything.

Noah felt a pit grow in his stomach. He leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “He’s at least fifteen years your senior,” he replied, his voice laced with disbelief.

She seemed taken aback by the bluntness, but nodded sheepishly. “I... know. I don’t usually—well, I guess I’m not exactly thinking straight when it’s him, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Noah said dryly, then added for her benefit, “It’s Max Verstapen, right?”

She bit her lip, then grabbed her dress from the hallway and quickly went to change. Noah couldn’t help but feel relieved—he had no idea what to say to her, and honestly, he didn’t need to.

The sound of footsteps coming from the hallway brought him back to the moment. A few seconds later, Max appeared, stretching lazily as he entered the kitchen. His hair was still a mess from the night, but his grin was as wide as ever.

“Morning mate,” Max said, ruffling Noah’s hair as he walked by.

Noah just stared at him, unimpressed. “Twenty-one, really?” he asked, shocked.

Both of them ignored her as she walked out, Noah still in disbelief.

Max chuckled, clearly not fazed, and started rummaging through the fridge. He opened a carton of eggs, cracked a couple into a pan, and began cooking.

It wasn’t long before Max’s phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen and swore under his breath, muttering, “Fuck.”

“What?” Noah asked, curious, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Max looked up, his face briefly reflecting an uncharacteristic moment of stress. “My personal assistant,” he muttered. “She’s off annual leave today.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “What’s so bad about that?”

Max sighed dramatically. “She keeps my life together, kid. Without her, I’d be completely lost.”

As if on cue, they heard the front door creak open. The sound of heels clicking against the floor echoed in the hallway.

Max’s face fell. “Oh, double hell,” he muttered.

Noah looked at him, confused. “Who’s that?”

The door to the kitchen swung open, and a woman walked in, looking both exasperated and amused at the same time. She was in her early thirties, with sharp features and a no-nonsense attitude that immediately made her stand out.

She didn’t waste any time. “Blocking me during my annual leave doesn’t work, Max Emilian,” she said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Max stood up straight, putting on his most charming grin, which, unsurprisingly, didn’t seem to work on her. “Hey, sweetheart, how was the holiday?”

She didn’t even look at him before turning her gaze to Noah, who was watching this whole scene unfold with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

She raised an eyebrow. “Who’s this?”

Max froze for a split second before clearing his throat. “Uh, this is my son... Noah,” he said, sounding almost awkward.

The second she heard “son,” her eyes widened in shock. “MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN,” she snapped, her voice sharp as a whip. “What on earth have you gotten yourself into now?!”

Noah couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the way she was laying into his dad. Watching Max get his ass handed to him by someone who clearly had authority in his life was, honestly, one of the funniest things Noah had seen in a long time.

He leaned back in his chair, his mouth twisting into a grin. “This is... amazing,” Noah muttered under his breath, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Max, on the other hand, looked like he was regretting every decision he’d ever made. “Sweetheart, come on,” he said weakly. “It’s not that bad.”

“No, Max,” she said, crossing her arms, unimpressed. “It’s exactly as bad as it looks. I leave you alone for three weeks, and you end up with a what? a 16 year old who clearly looks hungover!” She turned to Noah, her expression softening just a little. “Nice to meet you, by the way. But please—please tell me you’re smarter than your dad.”

Max groaned and rubbed his temples, clearly still nursing the hangover. “Ugh, I’m hungover,” he muttered, dragging himself to the kitchen table and sitting down.

She didn’t even glance up from the folder she was pulling out of her bag. “Don’t care,” she said with a roll of her eyes, clearly unimpressed by his state.

Noah snorted with laughter, the sound escaping before he could stop it. He couldn’t help it—there was something undeniably hilarious about watching Max get shot down so effortlessly. Watching the great Max Verstappen, the Formula 1 champion, get treated like an everyday guy was something he hadn’t seen before.

She caught the laugh from across the room and shot Noah a playful smirk. “You think this is funny, huh?” she asked, but her tone was light, not harsh.

Noah raised both hands in surrender, still grinning. “You have no idea,” he said, shaking his head. “This is gold.”

Max shot him a sideways glance but didn’t say anything—probably because he was too busy trying to drag himself through the worst hangover of his life. He ate his food silently, still looking miserable, while she—who, honestly, looked like she had her life together more than anyone else in the room—slid a thick folder across the kitchen table in front of him.

“Here’s the menu,” she said, flipping it open. “You’ve got a race in two weeks. Act like it.” Her voice was firm, almost maternal, but there was a certain softness to it that suggested she genuinely cared about Max’s well-being. And maybe Noah’s, too.

Max groaned again. “Really? The race is two weeks away. Can’t you just let me suffer in peace for one more day?” he asked, looking up at her with a feigned pout.

She didn’t even blink. “I don’t care,” she said again, flipping through the folder with surgical precision. “You’ve got media events, sponsorship meetings, and training sessions that you will attend. You can wallow later, when you’re not about to crash a car into a wall. So do me a favour and get it together, darling.”

Noah watched the exchange with a growing sense of admiration for her. She had a way of keeping Max in line that Noah hadn’t even thought possible. The pet names, the obvious affection she had for him, it was like a love language they both spoke—but she could flip into business mode faster than anyone he’d ever seen.

Max’s face softened, and he finally gave in, wiping his face and nodding. “Fine. Fine,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You’re right. Just... can I get through one cup of coffee before I start pretending I’m an athlete again?”

She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. “You’re not pretending, you are an athlete,” she said, her tone turning teasing, but still with that edge of authority that made her impossible to ignore. “But I’ll let you have your coffee.” She shot a glance at Noah. “Don’t get any ideas. You’re not allowed to slack off like him.”

Max snorted. “What ideas? He’s seventeen,” he shot back, clearly exhausted but trying to rally for the sake of their ongoing back-and-forth. “You think he’s gonna let me off the hook?”

Noah grinned. “If you can get away with it, I might give it a shot,” he said with a wink, feeling a rare moment of camaraderie with his dad—well, his dad when he wasn’t being an idiot.

She just shook her head. “I don’t get paid enough for this.” She pushed the folder over to Max again. “I’m serious, Max. The team’s not gonna wait for you to nurse a hangover. You’ve got a busy week, and you need to start acting like it.”

Max finally straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck, but then something like a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He looked at her with that familiar cocky glint in his eyes, a look Noah had seen a hundred times before. But this time, it wasn’t as obnoxious—it was affectionate.

“Alright, alright, you got it, princess,” Max said, using one of his usual pet names. She didn’t flinch, but Noah swore he saw the faintest trace of a smile tug at her lips.

Noah felt like an outsider looking in on this little dynamic, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously, princess? Can’t you do any better?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Don’t get me started on the pet names,” she warned. “You’ll regret it.”

Noah chuckled, obviously enjoying the banter. He turned back to her. “If I call you princess, will you cut me some slack?”

“Not in a million years,” she replied with a smirk, her voice as calm as ever.

Max sighed dramatically, clearly not used to being outside of a joke, but he dropped the act, finally flipping through the folder in front of him. “Alright, alright. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Noah leaned back in his chair, watching the two of them with a mix of awe and amusement. It was clear—she wasn’t just a personal assistant. She was the one who kept Max’s world from falling apart, and soon maybe Noah’s, too. He’d never seen his dad so... well, manageable before. She’d probably seen it all—his dad’s hangovers, his cocky attitude, his late-night escapades—and yet she still kept things running smoothly.

Maybe that’s what he’d needed all along—someone who could manage the chaos, someone who could actually keep him grounded.

“Well, I guess I can’t slack off anymore either,” Noah muttered, pushing away from the table and grabbing his plate. “Guess I’m in this with you, huh?”

Max looked up at him and gave him a playful nudge. “You know it, kid,” he said, grinning. “The real work starts now.”

She stood at the counter, her movements fluid as she made a cup of coffee for Max. She placed it gently in front of him, then gave him a look that made it clear she wasn’t done yet.

“Your room,” she said firmly, raising an eyebrow. “Strip your sheets, air it out. It smells like sex in there.”

Max groaned, but his tone was playful. “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he muttered, picking up the coffee and winking at her as if it was no big deal.

Noah watched the exchange, silently chuckling to himself. It was actually kind of adorable how well Max and she worked together. They didn’t seem like just a typical boss-assistant duo—they had a rhythm, a comfort with each other that made it hard to believe they weren’t more than that.

She raised her eyebrows at Max, clearly not impressed by his teasing. “Go,” she commanded, making a shooing motion toward the hallway.

Max rolled his eyes but shuffled off to his room, his back already to them.

She then glanced over at Noah, her expression softening now that it was just the two of them. “Alright, kid,” she said, her voice changing slightly. “Now, how did you end up here?”

Noah hesitated, unsure how much to share. He wasn’t used to talking about his family—about his mum. But she had a way of making him feel safe. She didn’t press, didn’t rush him, but her eyes were kind, giving him the space to speak if he wanted to.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, trying to find the words. “I was an accident,” he finally muttered, looking down at the table. “My mum... she was one of the many girls in and out of his life. She never really stuck around, I spent more time with my grandma.”

She nodded, encouraging him with a soft, understanding smile. She was so good at making him feel like his feelings mattered, like he wasn’t just a burden. “And after that?” she asked, her tone gentle but full of curiosity.

Noah paused, swallowing hard. “She just had enough, I guess. She couldn’t wait until I turned 18, so she shipped me off here to my dad.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, a little embarrassed by how honest he was being. “I don’t know if she ever really wanted to be a mum. But when it came down to it, she couldn’t even handle me for a few more months.”

Her expression softened even more, and she leaned forward slightly, her voice low and comforting. “That must’ve been really tough on you.”

Noah gave a half-shrug, but there was a weight to it. “It was. But, I mean... what can you do? She made her decision, and now I’m here. With him,” he said, glancing toward the hallway where Max had disappeared, an almost nostalgic look on his face. He wasn’t sure whether it was disappointment or something else—maybe just the surrealism of the situation.

She watched him closely, like she was trying to read him. “Do you want to stay after your eighteenth birthday?” she asked carefully. “Or do you think you’ll go back to the States, I’m assuming that is where you’re from?”

Noah felt a tight knot in his chest at the thought. He hadn’t really thought about it—hadn’t been asked. His whole life had been in limbo for the past three weeks, ever since he’d arrived in Monaco. “I don’t really know,” he said, exhaling deeply. “I’ve only been here for a few weeks. I turn 18 in a couple of weeks... and I guess I’m still figuring things out. It’s... it’s a lot to take in.”

She nodded again, giving him time to process the weight of it all. “Of course,” she said, her voice warm. “But listen, if you want to leave, we can make up for the missed child support. If you don’t feel comfortable here, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, okay?”

Noah didn’t know what to say at first. He felt like he hadn’t even had time to adjust to life with his dad before people were talking about the next step. But then something in her words hit him. We can make up for the missed child support. She was offering him an option. She wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying; she was giving him a choice, and that felt... different.

“But if you want to stay,” she added with a smile, “we can make up for lost time. And I’ll take you shopping.”

Noah chuckled, feeling a little lighter at the thought of her offer. It was a small thing, but it was enough to make him feel like he had options. Like maybe, just maybe, he could make a life here.

“Shopping, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that the deal-breaker?”

She smiled knowingly. “A little retail therapy never hurt anyone. Plus, it’s a good way to build a real wardrobe.”

Noah smiled back, surprised by the warmth in his chest. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he wasn’t just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe—just maybe—he could find a place for himself here.

Over the next few days, Noah couldn’t help but notice the unique dynamic between his dad and her. It was almost like a carefully choreographed dance—Max would slack off, mess around, maybe even throw a tantrum, and she would step in like a well-oiled machine, putting everything back in order without missing a beat.

She was the one who could actually control him, Noah realised. Not that Max ever looked like he was being controlled—he had that cocky, self-assured air, like the world owed him something. But she was the one who could gently rein him in, who knew exactly when to cut him off, when to play the tough love card, and when to let him have his moment of weakness.

And Noah saw it. He saw how Max listened to her. He’d always thought that Max did whatever he wanted. But with her around, he noticed a shift. She was the one who could keep Max grounded in ways Noah never could, and in that, Noah saw something—something that made him wonder if, maybe, she was the only one who could be perfect for his dad.

It was race week, and everything was running at full throttle. Max was his usual self, the high-octane Formula 1 driver, constantly on the go, living off adrenaline and the expectations that came with it. They boarded the private jet with a few of the other drivers, and as soon as they were in the air, Max and his mates turned their attention to technical talk, while Noah, feeling out of place but not entirely unwelcome, found a seat beside her.

As the engines hummed in the background and the landscape below them blurred into a sea of clouds, Noah let himself relax for the first time in what felt like forever. She was reading through a set of files, occasionally glancing up at him with that comforting, steady gaze she had perfected.

“So...” Noah said, breaking the silence after a while, “How did you get this job?”

She looked up, offering him a warm smile as she closed the folder in her lap. “That’s a loaded question,” she said, her voice playful but still laced with that underlying wisdom. “How much time do you have?”

Noah grinned, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve got all the time in the world, it seems. Might as well learn something interesting.”

She chuckled softly. “Fair enough. Well, I’ve always had a thing for organisation. I’ve worked in a lot of high-pressure environments, but this—” she motioned around the jet, a flick of her hand that encompassed the luxury, the chaos, the busy hum of the race world “—this was different. I actually came into it by accident.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Accident? How does someone accidentally end up working with the best Formula 1 drivers in the world?”

She shrugged casually, like it was no big deal. “I used to be a personal assistant for a couple of big-name corporate execs, and after some... interesting situations, I realised I needed a change. My family had always been involved in motorsports, so I started working for a racing team, just answering emails, scheduling meetings. Then one day, Max’s manager called me in to help out with his chaotic schedule. The rest is history.”

Noah laughed. “I’m guessing Max’s schedule is a nightmare?”

She gave him a knowing look. “You could say that.” She lowered her voice as though she was telling him a secret. “Max’s not the easiest guy to manage, but we get along just fine.”

Noah nodded, his curiosity piqued. “What’s it like... working with him? I mean, really working with him?”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, she seemed almost nostalgic, like she was remembering the past. “He’s a pain, honestly. He doesn’t listen half the time, and he thinks he can do whatever he wants. But that’s Max, right? He’s got this fire in him, this energy that doesn’t let anyone or anything hold him back. And... well, someone has to keep the wheels turning when the engine’s running at full speed. That’s where I come in.”

Noah couldn’t help but grin. “Seems like you’re the only one who can actually keep him in line.”

She gave him a small smile, her eyes sparkling with that quiet confidence. “I don’t keep him in line—I just know how to get him to do what’s necessary. There’s a big difference.”

The jet hummed steadily, and Noah leaned back in his seat, thinking about what she’d said. She was good. Too good at her job to be just another assistant. She was like the secret engine that kept Max running, and Noah didn’t think he’d ever fully understand why she chose to work with him, but he didn’t mind. She clearly had everything under control.

“So, do you like it?” Noah asked, after a beat of silence. “The job? I mean, it’s got to be crazy, right?”

She smiled at the question, looking thoughtful. “It’s a lot, yes. But it’s also rewarding. I’ve always loved a challenge, and Max... well, he’s a big one. But he’s also got a heart under all that arrogance. It’s just buried deep. You’d have to stick around long enough to see it for yourself.”

Noah stared at her for a moment, absorbing her words. He wasn’t sure if he believed she meant that, but it made him wonder about his dad in a way he hadn’t before. Maybe she was the one person who understood Max better than anyone. Better than he did, that’s for sure.

As the flight continued, the other drivers gathered in the back, talking racing tactics and joking among themselves. Max glanced over at Noah, giving him a quick nod before returning to his conversation with the others. But even from where he sat, Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he felt... maybe a little bit more at home in this strange new world.

It wasn’t just about living up to the chaos or trying to impress his dad. It was about finding a balance between who he was and what this life could offer him. And maybe, just maybe, the one person who could make him see it clearly was sitting right in front of him, offering him coffee and a chance to truly know her story.

Race day had arrived, and the atmosphere was electric. The entire paddock was buzzing with energy as the team prepped for the race. Max’s PA was in the hospitality area, typing away at her laptop, responding to emails and making sure everything was in place for the post-race debrief. Her calm, focused demeanor was the eye of the storm, while around her, chaos seemed to swirl.

Noah had been lingering nearby, watching the action unfold. The race cars lined up, the drivers warming up in their suits, engineers giving last-minute adjustments. But Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that there was still so much he didn’t understand. Formula 1 was more than just fast cars; it was strategy, timing, and a whole world he hadn’t fully cracked yet.

She noticed him staring into the pit, looking like he was trying to figure it all out, and her lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. She closed her laptop and pushed her chair back, standing up.

"Hey," she called over to him, "You look a little lost. Want to get some fresh air?"

Noah blinked, his gaze lifting to meet hers. "Sure. I mean, I could use a break."

She motioned toward the balcony, a quieter spot away from the noise of the paddock. "Come on. Let’s go up there. I'll teach you a few things about the race."

They made their way out, and as soon as they stepped onto the balcony, Noah took in the view of the circuit below. He hadn’t even noticed the race started. Or was this the formation lap? He was sure he read something about that. The track was alive, filled with motion, the cars zipping around as the tension built toward the start.

She leaned against the railing, her arms folded as she studied Noah. “So, how much do you know about all this? The strategy, the pit stops, all that?”

Noah shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. “I know a decent amount. I mean, mum sometimes put on the race for me to shut me up, but I didn’t really get into the details. She wasn’t into it, and I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it.” He paused, then added with a bit of a sheepish grin, “So I know the basics, but it’s a lot more complicated than I thought.”

She nodded, a knowing look crossing her face. “Yeah, it’s a lot more than just fast cars and fuel. Let me give you the rundown.”

She began explaining the finer details of race strategy—the tire choices, how teams monitored fuel and tire degradation, the timing of pit stops, the importance of keeping track of the weather. As she talked, Noah found himself listening intently, his mind absorbing the information. She wasn’t just teaching him about the race; she was showing him how the puzzle pieces fit together.

“You’re getting it,” she said, smiling at him as he absorbed it all. “The strategy isn’t just about winning; it’s about staying ahead of the competition at every turn. A good driver can have the skill, but it’s the team that makes them successful.”

Noah nodded, feeling a new sense of respect for everything that went into a race. “I get it now. It’s more than just the guy behind the wheel.”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

The sound of the race engines revving up brought them both back to the present. The cars were lining up, and she could feel the tension building as the race was about to begin. She turned toward Noah, her tone shifting slightly. “Alright, time to get back to work. Max has quite a few places to make up.”

They both turned toward the pit, and with a knowing glance, she led Noah back inside.

The race was intense, but as the laps ticked down, Max started to pull away from the pack. Noah could see it happening before anyone else—his dad was dominating, racing like the champion he was. It wasn’t just about the car; it was about Max’s relentless drive.

And then, it happened. Max crossed the finish line in first place, and the entire team erupted in celebration. Noah felt a strange mix of pride and awe. This was his dad—he was winning, and it was like nothing else mattered in that moment.

She was already moving, heading straight for the garage to make sure everything was set for the post-race celebrations. Noah followed behind her, curious but also wanting to see what happened next.

As they entered the garage, Noah couldn’t help but ask, “Why are we back here?”

She turned to him with a knowing smile. “Away from the cameras,” she said simply. “Sometimes the celebrations should be private.”

The doors opened just as Max walked in, his face flushed with triumph, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on her. Without a second thought, he crossed the space in long strides, pulling her into a tight hug.

Noah watched them, a small smile tugging at his lips as he saw the chemistry between them. It was impossible to ignore—the way Max’s arms wrapped around her, how she laughed softly in his arms, as though they had all the time in the world. It wasn’t just the physical connection between them, it was the way they fit together. They had this unspoken understanding, this quiet intimacy that Noah couldn’t deny.

For the first time, he felt like an outsider—just a kid who had stumbled into a world he didn’t fully understand, yet somehow found himself caught in the middle of something bigger than himself. Watching them together, he couldn't help but think they were cute—and it was a thought that made him feel oddly warm inside.

Max pulled away from her, looking down at Noah with a mischievous grin. “Atta boy, kid,” he said, pulling Noah into a hug. The older man’s arms enveloped him easily, and for a second, Noah felt the weight of everything—his confusion, his place in all of this, but also the new undeniable love for moments like this, moments he never had.

It was rare, moments like these, where Noah felt like he truly belonged in this world, like he wasn’t just a spectator in anyone’s life. The hug felt like a reassurance, like Max was showing him, in his own way, that he was happy he was here.

As they pulled apart, Noah found himself grinning, the rush of the race and the moment of connection filling him with something he couldn’t quite name. But whatever it was, it felt real.

She stepped forward, brushing off a stray piece of hair from her face. “Good job, Max,” she said, her voice soft but proud. “You didn’t screw it up for once.”

Max shot her a playful look. “Who are you calling a screw-up?”

She winked at him. “You, it’s just not obvious because I pick up your slack Max Emilian.”

Noah looked between them, watching the playful banter, and for the first time since he’d arrived in Monaco, he felt like things were... right. Whatever this was between his dad and her, it was something real. And maybe, just maybe, it could be the foundation for something that could help him find his place in this chaotic world.

taglist: @linnygirl09 @mirrorball-6 @miyasuni

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ihavethedreamies · 4 months ago

Text

Stupid | Wooyoung

Jung Wooyoung - ATEEZ)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~10.3k

Pairing: Wooyoung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Caution: The angst in this story is more familial based. There are mentions of adultery/infidelity, but it's not dwelled on. This could be triggering for those who have had parent's leave or other similar circumstances, so just be warned.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Princess, Sweetheart, Sunshine, etc.), Childhood/Teenage Trauma, Family Issues, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Couch Sex, Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill)

Author's Note: Hm, just thought I would do this since I made something similar for San.

(S/N) is for the name of your sister.

Move Update: We are headed out next Monday for our new state (back to where I was born actually) and I'm gonna have to live at my uncles for a month before the new house is ready, so I will be writing a lot there, so get ready.

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

The only sound you could hear was your own aggressive keypresses. You had paused your music to go to the bathroom and didn't bother hitting play again. Staring hard at the screen, your eyes hurt even with the dark theme applied. The colorful lines of code on the dark screen blurred and refocused, and you blinked, trying to force your eyes not to blur. Sighing, you pushed back from your desk, rubbing over your eyes. Taking your computer glasses off, you let them fall onto your desk and you got back up. It was really hard to work at 2 am, let alone when your thoughts were racing. And the thoughts had nothing to do with your job. The last thing you needed the day before a project was due was to loop on irrational thoughts. Your socked feet thumbed on the wood floor of your hallway as you went down it. Your sister's door was propped open, so you quietly opened the door, peeking inside. The soft teal lighting strip lining her walls cast a faint glow over the room. She was starfish-ed on the bed, peacefully and messily asleep. Huffing, you stepped out and shut your door. How nice it must be to be thirteen. Pulling your phone from the pocket of your sweatpants, you exited the hallway and went into the kitchen. The large open room of the apartment included the kitchen as well as dining and living areas. A spare room was in the back corner, empty since your friend had moved out a month before. Another room sat across from it, the large windows of the studio covered with tall curtains, but you knew it was just full of boxes of old things. Someday you would have the courage to go through them and get rid of stuff, maybe use the studio for an office or something, but…

Opening the fridge to get the pitcher of orange juice, the door shut, and your eyes focused on the dark on the picture magnetically attached to the front. The picture was of a once happy life you lived. A black squiggle covered the face of the man, the woman next to him smiling like the sun. Glaring at the censored face, you yanked the photograph from the magnet clip and slapped the picture down on the counter. The pitcher followed and as you grabbed a glass, you plucked the scissors from the small utensil-filled mug on the counter. After pouring yourself a drink, and taking a few sips, you grabbed the photo. Holding it up, you realized it would make sense to turn the overhead light of the range hood to see better, but you continued in the dark. Opening the shears, you cut a tiny slit into the white border of the photo and halted. The little line split the man's pants from the shoulder of the little girl's white sundress; she was no more than four. She was sitting on the lap of a girl looking much the same, just about twelve years older. It was weird to see such a bright smile on your face.

The purple-handed scissors clattered onto the Formica counter; the photo still held in the crook of the blades. Resting against the counter behind you, you drank the juice in gulps, hissing through your teeth when it was gone like it was some kind of liquor. The glass-mimicking plastic cup clanked into the sink, and you left the kitchen to shuffle back to your room. As you reentered, you yanked the zipper down of your hoodie, nearly tearing the garment off and throwing it harshly onto the floor. You let the door click quietly closed despite wanting to slam it and went back to your computer. Your chair let out a puff of air when you plopped down into it, the remaining pieces of the candy necklace you had on bouncing over your collarbone. Crunching on one of the sugary beads, you flipped your phone over, so the screen faced up, tapping the black surface and a small white notification bubble showed itself under the white numbers of the clock; 2:13 am. Unlocking the phone with your finger print, you opened your message app and you sniffed at the message in annoyance.

🦊WooWoo🦊: did you get it done?

He had sent it nearly an hour prior. You glared at your computer screen, then to the second monitor, the program running over and over, glitching at the same time stamp each time.

☀️: not even close 🦊: why are you up young lady ☀️: why are you?

He didn't reply right away so you looked back at your computer, clicking your tongue. Hitting save and closing the window, you instead opened up a new email and sent one to your coworker that it might not get there by tomorrow night but that you would try. It wasn't a hard deadline anyway. You worked for an Indie label, not some AAA, so that gave you some flexibility. Closing the window, you stared at your background for a good few minutes, waiting for Wooyoung to reply. The picture used to make you smile, but it hurt your heart. San's cute dimple smile, and his arm around you made you wince. Wooyoung was on your other side, his cheek pressed into the side of your head as he hugged you. You were leaning into San, trying to escape the other man's embrace, at least that was your excuse. The picture was getting close to five years old.

🦊: games 🦊: why are you up ☀️: working. thinking 🦊: about? ☀️: how shit I feel 🦊: you sick??

You rolled your eyes; he wasn't super intuitive sometimes. It was almost 2:30 in the morning though.

☀️: no. how shitty my life is now compared to back then…

Once again, he took a bit to reply, and you almost got up to use the restroom then go to bed. Your phone then buzzed on the desk, the noise even louder going through the wood, and you grabbed it quickly, answering the call.

"Your life isn't shitty (Y/N). I'm here, huh?" His giggle was forced. You just huffed, getting out of your desk chair to move to your bed.

"Livin' the dream."

"What's it this time? Your…da- uh, male life giver?" His little catch at least made the corner of your mouth crook up.

"Yeah."

"How's (S/N)?"

"Good, I guess. She…she was a bit too really remember either of them."

"Even if she doesn't it can't be easy with…how it all played out." He was trying to be careful with what he said, but you were already in a bad mood.

"Our dad cheating, leaving us for his second family and then my mother…" You thought tears who come to your eyes, but maybe you were too tired.

"Where do you think she went?" Your best friend's voice was soft.

"No clue. Neither did Gramma, or the cops. She could be in Timbuk-fucking-tu for all I know."

"Do you want to go out tomorrow with me and San? Or do you have to work?" Before you could answer, your phone buzzed, and you pulled it away from your ear. Opening the email from your coworker, you sighed in relief. Perfect timing.

"Not anymore. The character models are getting scrapped and redone so that means my code has to be scrapped. Might be why I couldn’t get it to move right."

"What about (S/N)?"

"She's thirteen not three. I'll have her sleep over at a friend's maybe…"

"Great! Get some sleep, sunshine. Meet us at 9!" He hung up and you flopped back onto your mattress, feeling disappointed for some reason. Finally working up the energy to get off the bed, you went back to your computer and shut it down, staring at San's smiling face a little too long, before letting it actually turn off.

~*~*~

"Good morning, little lady." You left the hallway, sandals in your hand. Your sister sent you a tired look over her cereal, waving lazily.

"G'mornin'."

"Do any of your friends get to have sleep overs on school nights?" Her eyes opened a bit wider then, then squinted as she thought.

"Uh…probably. Going out with-" she gave a flirty pose, batting her eyelashes, "Sannie?" then dropped the act.

"Shut up, you little shit." You threw a stray cheerio at her, and it nearly stuck to her cheek.

"Wooyoung's going too."

"Oh. You ever gonna tell him?"

"Tell San I like him? I don’t know..."

"San? Oh, yeah, right. Why not?" You didn't answer right away, pouring a glass of juice.

"You're gonna turn into an orange." Your sister rolled her eyes, and you poured just a bit more before putting the pitcher back down.

"I just... I don't think I stand a chance."

"What?! Why?!" Your sister acted like you had personally offended her. Even before your whole messed up parental situation, you two never bickered or anything. Probably because you were nearly thirteen years older than her.

"I'm not his type. He probably sees me as a sister. Also, he looks like that," you motioned down at your white tank with a think blue plaid shirt over and worn denim capris, "and I'm…"

"You better compliment yourself." Your sister glared at you, making you sigh.

"He likes the girls in skirts with makeup and their nails done. The ones that giggle at everything he says and touch his bicep ‘accidentally’…" You drifted off, getting mad at the mental pictures.

"Then do all that." (S/N) shrugged, getting up to put her cereal bowl in the sink.

"Counter." You corrected and she rolled her eyes, taking the bowl out and moving it to the counter.

"(S/N), I don't even own a tube of mascara." You sighed, then proceeded to down your orange juice once again like it was a stiff drink. Your throat burned and your stomach stung somewhat…maybe you did drink too much.

"Use mine."

"What?" You turned fast to look at her and her eyes were wide in panic.

"I only have mascara, I promise!" She lifted her hands in surrender, and you breathed out your nose. She was only a year off being allowed make up, you at least wanted to maintain the rules your mother put on you with your sister. Even if a lot of them never had to be enacted on you.

"Look, I'm just going to go hang out with them and pretend one of my best friends isn't sex on legs."

"I'm pretty sure they both are, but okay." (S/N) muttered under her breath as she passed you to go get her backpack and you pretended to not hear her.

~~~

"Bye, sis!" (S/N) got out of your car and headed into her middle school. She was the one of the few who didn't mind being seen dropped off right in front of the school, but laid-back older sisters are much, much cooler than any parent.

"Just text me who you can stay with!" You called to her, and she turned around with a shocked face.

"Right! What about my bag? My locker's not big enough!" She realized, coming back to your rolled down window, leaning into it.

"I'll bring it by after your club meeting is done."

"Really!? Can you bring WooSan?"

"Don't call them that!" You scolded but laughed nonetheless, "Sure."

"Bye, sis!" She took off again, meeting her similarly uniformed friends by the entrance. You were blessed that the school was willing to take her in for free more-or-less on a scholarship. Your mother wanted both of you to go to the same school, but it was private, and you were in no way capable of paying. If you were, you wouldn't be driving a wine red 2002 Hyundai Sonata with suede upholstery. Pulling out of the drop-off line, you continued down the road till you met the traffic light. It sat at the edge of the academy's campus and the park where you were meeting the guys was just past the light. As you waited for the light to turn, you tapped your fingers on the steering wheel along to the music playing on your radio. The light took even longer because the crossing guard was leading a group of elementary schoolers across. You were watching them pass in their cute little uniforms when you were startled by a knock on your window. You flinched, looking to see what looked to be a high school boy on the other side. You rolled the slightly tinted glass down just enough that you would be able to hear him. He flashed a smoldering smile, and you blatantly sneered.

"What, kid?"

"You obviously don't go to school here, you from the public school?" How dumb was this kid? You hadn't been in high school for seven years. You had a college degree and everything. Most might take it as a compliment to be seen as looking young enough to be a teenager, but…

"Get lost, squirt." You scoffed, looking away but not bothering to roll the window back up. You were a bit curious what his reaction would be.

"I might look young, but I'm a senior this year, princess." He was clearly a little put off by your flat dismissal, trying to keep a flirty tone.

"Fuck off, kid. She's our princess." A familiar voice hit your ears, and you sighed in relief, watching Wooyoung essentially hip bump the kid so hard he fell back onto the sidewalk. Your heart skipped as you huffed a laugh, watching San come up as well and unlocked the doors so the two guys could climb in, right at the light turned green. San barely shut the back door before you took off, leaving the teenager's friends laughing at his sorry state. Crossing the median, you pulled into the parking lot of the park and slumped back into your seat.

"Got your favorite." San leaned forward, toned arm hovering over the center console, holding a plastic bag with one finger.

"Sweet!" You swiped it from him and Wooyoung got out, running around to your side where the window was still rolled down.

"Hey, pretty lady, want to go make out behind the bleachers?" He leaned against the side of your car just like the cocky teen had and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"Uh, no." You wondered if he caught you glance in your rearview mirror to watch San get out of your car, holding the drink holder of ice coffees as well. You couldn't meet his gaze though, and surprisingly, he didn't respond, just stood up and started to follow San down the path.

"Hey, wait up!" You got out quickly, nearly forgetting your phone and to lock the car as you dashed after them. Finally getting half-way around the pond that was trying to be a lake, you sat on a picnic bench of the wooden shelter right on the edge of the water. Some ducks quacked as they lazily swam closer, hoping for a snack. As you took a long sip of your ice coffee, you watched San get up and go closer to the ducks, a little bit of his croissant left. Your eyes couldn't help but travel over the wide expanse of his shoulders and back. His arms were on display since he was in a sleeveless hoodie, and you smiled at his as the ducks happily ate the bread.

"That's bad for them, y'know?" Wooyoung called and the other man tossed him a bored look over his shoulder, then went back to the birds. Because you were too busy eyeing over your friend, you didn't notice Wooyoung watching you. He lifted half of his nose in a sneer, glaring at his friend who was taking up all of your attention. Wooyoung wanted to blame it on that San had started working out since you had all started being friends, but he wasn’t sure that was it.

"Just fucking tell him." He whispered harshly to you and his sudden mutter made you choke. San immediately turned around, and you waved him off, but he still went to your side, patting your back some to help.

"You okay?" He kneeled next to you, and you nodded, flashing a small smile, trying not to get red. Not like you could control it. Just then, something green flew through the air, flying past San's head as he stood, and he was toppled over by a mass of blonde fur.

"Jeremy! Get off of him!" A young woman scolded the golden retriever as it refused to get off of San, sniffing him and licking his face. Why am I jealous of a dog? You sighed, slumping back against the wood railing of the shelter.

"Why don't you tell him?" Wooyoung's next whisper was much softer, he sounded very tired.

"And get rejected? Ruin our friendship? No." You whispered back, still watching the cutest thing you've ever seen. The dog was a fat mood, refusing to get off of San.

"I'm so sorry!" The woman finally managed to pull the dog off of the man and he got up laughing. She immediately blushed, finally able to see San past all of the fluff. Looking away and down the path to where the green flying disk still lay you got up to retrieve it, since the dog had failed its job.

"Here." You forced a smile as you handed it back to her and she snapped out of her daze to take it from you, immediately looking back to San. Luckily, she left not too long after and you were able to continue the day with the two guys.

~*~*~

A week passed, and you still hadn't been able to work because the rest of the team couldn't get their act together and finish their parts. So, you had been left to your thoughts which is never good. You sat on the couch, boredly and only partially watching the TV. Your knees were pulled up to your chest and your hands lazily tapped a rhythm on the worn faux leather of the couch. Tilting your head, it rested on the back of the couch, and you stared at the ceiling of your loft apartment, the large ventilation pipes curving around the support columns high above your head. When the doorbell rang you almost didn't recognize it, thinking it might have been on the show. It happened again and you knew it was yours because the TV now displayed a commercial for some kind of sports drink. Getting up with a groan, you trudged over to the door, socked feet shuffling over the wood floor. When you opened the door, a young woman sat on the other side, and her face made you nervous. She looked…

"Hi. Are you (Y/N)?" She smiled gently and you nodded.

"I'm Jena (L/N). Can…can I come in?" When she said her last name, your heart fell. You knew immediately who she was.

"Sure." Your tone was flat, but since she didn't know you, it seemed she didn't notice. You motioned her in and toward the couch and you glanced around your place. It wasn't messy, but it wasn't nice either. She was in a sundress that was at least $300, and she had a giant rock on her finger. You grimaced as she sat on your very well-worn couch and you sat down as well, facing her by sitting sideways. She put her designer bag down, linking her fingers and resting her hands on her knee, legs crossed.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but…I'm assuming you know Daniel (L/N)?" You never wanted to hear that name again.

"Uh, yeah." You shuffled on the couch, the faux leather creaking under you.

"I'm his daughter. I have to admit I was a little…stalky?" She cringed at herself, smiling sheepishly.

"Dad is…well, he doesn't have much longer." When you didn't really react, she continued. On the inside, you just weren't sure how to react.

"They don't know if he drank too much when he was younger or what, but his liver is failing. He's been on a transplant list, but they can't find anyone compatible." She’d better not have come to get you to give him half of your fucking liver-

"Anyway, I was looking over his will-"

"Where's your mom?"

"Huh?"

"How…what about your mom?"

"Oh, uh." She looked down, a sad expression covering her face.

"When he got sick, she left him, so I'm in charge of everything." Rolling your eyes, you huffed, looking toward the kitchen, focusing on the picture on the fridge you meant to cut up.

"Uh. Right, your name is on the will." She pulled a packet of paper from her purse, showing you where your name was highlighted. You didn't even care what he was leaving you, so you handed it back.

"I don't want it."

"O-oh…if you don't mind me asking, who are you?" You raised an eyebrow, and she wilted under your glare.

"You don't know?"

"No, sorry." She hid bashfully behind the papers, "are we cousins or something?" You just stared at her in shock.

"No offense, but it’s a bit weird to have a niece in your will when you have four kids?"

"Look, if you want my part, have it."

"No! That's not… Actually, the reason I'm really here is-" She pulled something else out of her bag and you recognized it.

"Dad kept saying the name Naomi." You stood up at this and she flinched. You paced a bit, hands going to your head, fingers digging into your scalp. Breathing out slowly, you turn back to her.

"Sorry…keep going, I'm just…struggling with this." She seemed a bit unwilling to continue without asking anything, but she did so as you sat back down. Your ire was evident, you were sure.

"Um…well, I couldn't figure out who she was, so I looked in his yearbook. He's…" She flipped to the middle of the book, "with a girl named Naomi." She showed you the page, but you already knew it. High School Sweethearts read in flowery script over the picture of your parents.

"But when I looked her up, I couldn't find anything." Of course not. You never could.

"So, I used Google's new AI search with this picture, and I found a woman…" You hadn’t gone that far, still not really trusting any kind of program claiming to be AI. She pulled out another paper from her bag and showed it to you. It was an article about some town's mayor on the other side of the country, and the caption listed the woman next to him as his wife. It was your mother. But her name was wrong.

"It says her name is Carry, but that looks like the same woman, right?"

"Y-Yes."

"Maybe they’re sisters? Twins even? I know it’s a long shot, but do you have her contact information? Even if they broke up soon after high school, maybe she would be willing to see him since he's dying…" As soon as you saw her face on the paper, your anger left, and you were holding back tears.

"I don't…but-" you took a shuddering breath, "uh, I don't think she'll go see him."

"Really?" She deflated a bit, and you looked down at your lap, picking at your torn jeans.

"Uh. No. She's… Okay, I'm in the will because I'm your sister. Those are my parents. She’s my mother." This information floored her, her jaw literally dropping. Sniffing hard, you hated crying, let alone in front of essentially a stranger.

"How old are you?" Your question snapped her back, making her flinch.

"T-twenty." Of course.

"Dad…He uh, left us and mom for…you guys. Then mom fucking snapped or broke or whatever and left us too." You looked at the printed off article, at your mother's smiling face next to some man you had never seen or heard of before. This shocked her even further. You gave her the article back and stood moving to the door.

"Uh, take me out of the will or whatever and just leave us alone please. Thank you." You opened your front door, not able to look at her.

"U-us?"

"Ah. (S/N). My thirteen-year-old sister." This must have really made this Jena girl realize why you acted the way you did. It wasn't that your father left your mother then fathered her, he had both families at the same time.

"M-my brother is twelve." Reality was hitting her.

"Great. That sucks for everyone, please leave." You motioned with your arm for her to get out and as soon as she shuffled out into the hallway, you let the door fall closed. Your shoulder hit the wall, and you slumped to the floor, hot tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor. Your chest heaved as you sobbed, hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Fuck!" You screamed, grabbing a cheap ceramic bowl you used for change and chucked it across the room. It hit the column behind your TV and shattered, coins clattering onto the floor in its trail. You buried your face in your hands, breathing harshly, trying to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. It buzzed again a few minutes later, then again. Again.

"Damnit." You got up, storming over to your phone, looking at it. It was the group chat, Wooyoung and San were talking about doing something the next day, some kind of lawn game competition at the community college. When they saw that you read the messages and didn't reply, your phone rang with a call from Wooyoung.

"I know that we're not in college anymore, but we can get away-" You had stopped crying more or less, but hearing his voice brought tears back to your eyes and you fought a sob.

"Are you crying? What happened?"

"U-um…" You swallowed hard, a lump rising in your throat along with the tears.

"I'll be there in five…six minutes!" He hung up and you let the device fall onto the couch. Your shoulders fell as you stood in the middle of the main room of your place, glaring at the coffee table's scratched surface. A tear fell onto the plywood, then another. Snapping out of your daze when hard knocks pounded on the door, you only got halfway to the door before he opened it, finding it unlocked.

"(Y/N)?" Seeing the concerned face of your best friend made you feel safe and so your self-erected walls fell. He shut the door as he moved forward, catching you in his arms as you shriveled to the floor. Wooyoung held you tighter as you cried, desperate sobs and whimpers muffled as you pressed your face into his chest. Your tears darkened the red fabric of his sweatshirt, and he adjusted your position, so you sat on the floor, legs over one of his, cheek pressed to his collarbone. A tear of his own fell and mixed with yours on your jaw, but you didn't notice it. He didn't know what happened that wrecked you so bad, but he couldn't stand hearing and seeing you so upset. He even hated it if you cried at a movie.

"What happened, sunshine?" His embrace loosened so you could sit up straighter, tears still falling, but you weren't actively sobbing. Wooyoung cupped your cheek in his hand, wiping a tear from your eye. You had to take several deep breaths through the story, but you managed to tell him what happened.

"M-my mother's alive, Wooyoung." Your voice had quieted so much at the end that, but he still heard the pain.

"(Y/N), sweetheart, come here." He stood, helping you get up and he led you over to the couch. He grabbed your phone, and you rested back on the couch as he easily put in your pin without having to ask what it was. You listened half-heartedly as he called your sister, most likely just getting out of class, about to go to her art club meeting.

"Again? Is this going to be weekly? I think I can stay with Amanda, maybe Emily…" You heard (S/N) sigh, "what about my stuff?"

"Can't you manage with borrowing?" Wooyoung cast you a glance, your forearm over your eyes.

"I guess. What’s wrong with (Y/N)?"

"She's just really struggling with something."

“What?”

“Adult stuff.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, uh-huh.”

“She’ll tell you when she’s ready, little lady.”

"You better take good care of her Mr. Jung."

"I will Miss (L/N)." He hung up and put your phone back down. You felt the couch shift when he stood up, then felt his body heat as he kneeled on the floor next to you. Wooyoung gently removed your arm from your face, and you turned to look at him.

"Oh, sweetheart." He sighed, hand going to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the red skin of your cheek, brushing away a stray tear.

"C-can you call San? And we can watch a movie? Get Indian food?" You weren't sure how to read Wooyoung's expression. He seemed to be thinking, but then he forced a smile and nodded.

"Sure, princess." Wooyoung stood and pressed a long kiss to your forehead, and you blamed your turbulent emotions on your racing heart.

~*~*~

About two weeks later, you found yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the number you plugged into your phone. You hadn't pressed call yet, the non-local area code of the number glaring at you. It was a long shot, but you hoped calling the mayor's office might get you somewhere. You had been stalling for a long time, his office would only be open for another hour thanks to the time difference. Your sister was getting annoyed with you having her stay the night at a friend’s place, but luckily, she had a slumber party she was invited to. The sun was starting to set, and you finally worked up the courage to hit call, then turned it onto speaker, at 5:57. It was probably around 3 there.

"Mayor Elledge's office, this is Peg."

"Hi, uh, Peg. I'm…I'm trying to get in contact with Carry Elledge, but I'm not sure how to get ahold of her…" The silence scared you, worried that the woman would be too suspicious to help you.

"May I ask who you are?"

"I'm…a relative. It's about…my father's will." Please work.

"I see…I can get you her cellphone number." The secretary relented and you sighed in relief, thanking her several times. Typing the number she gave you into your notes app, you politely end the conversation and went to call the other number while you still had the courage to do so. Ring. Ring. Ring-

"Hello, this is Carry?" It was your mom, no doubt. Tears welled in your eyes, and you swallowed, voice coming out softer than normal to keep from crying.

"M-mom? It's me. It's (Y/N)." More silence.

"I think you might have the wrong number, dear." You felt your face fall, your eyebrows furrowing, your lips trembling.

"This isn't Naomi (L/N)?"

"No, dear, sorry." There wasn't any kind of recognition in her voice, but it was hers.

"O-oh…okay, sorry." The call ended and you pressed your lips hard together, jaw clenched. What the hell happened? You sat trying to wrap your head around everything, about thirty minutes passed and your phone rang. It was a different number, but it was the same area code as the other two.

"H-hello?"

"Are you the young woman looking for Naomi (L/N)?" A man spoke, and you wondered if it wasn't the mayor guy.

"Yessir."

"You must be (Y/N)."

"What the hell happened to my mother?" Your tone didn't have nearly as much malice as you had wanted. Even if this guy did nothing wrong, you hated him. He sighed. He explained that he found her near death in an alleyway. She had malnutrition and was dehydrated. He got her to the hospital, she was in a medically induced coma for a few days, and when she woke up…she didn't remember anything.

"So, she has no idea about her past life?"

"No, miss."

"Thank you for…not letting her die."

"I'm sorry to not be of more help Miss (Y/N). Though, I don't think it’s good for her to be reminded of her past life. I called because she is…having a panic attack. Maybe it was your voice, some part of her recognized it maybe? It’s clear she is traumatized from her past. I think it would be best if you leave her be." You didn't want to. You wanted to get in your car, grab your sister, and drive for the three of four days you needed, and get your mother. But…she wasn't your mother anymore, even if she did remember you, it was clear her brain was hiding you and your sister.

"I…Okay. If you want to know, Daniel (L/N) is dying."

"Good."

"Yes."

"I appreciate you wanting to reach out, but I would like you to lose our numbers.

"Yessir." He hung up. Your body must have run out of tears along with your energy because you just slumped back into the couch. Something rose in you then, something bold. Grabbing your bag, phone and keys, you left your place, heading for Wooyoung and San’s.

~~~

As you rode the elevator to the third floor, you were shaking. Whether it was nerves or pure exhaustion you weren't sure. Going down the hall, you heard voices further down and you finally saw the owners as you turned the corner. San was standing at his apartment door, some bleach blonde girl wedged between him and the door. You weren’t sure how to feel, your emotions were too turbulent. Somehow it felt like your heart finally completely shattered, but you also were relieved, but the latter made you mad. You turned and fled before you could see his lips actually meet hers.

~~~

"(Y/N)?" You heard your name through the door, then Wooyoung's rapid knocks. You were slumped against the island counter, hands stinging and bleeding, shards of glass and ceramic scattered around the room. Tissue paper and packing peanuts were strewn about the main room of the apartment as well, old papers and books torn and discarded. Splinters of wood from broken frames and dismembered toys littered the floor as well, and you ran your thumb over a glass paper weight shaped like a cat.

"(Y/N)?!" Wooyoung jiggled the door handle harder, but it was locked. A red smear followed your thumb on the glass cat, the cuts on your palms still oozing blood.

"Damnit, (Y/N) (L/N)! Open the fucking door, I know you're in there." He was panicking, you could hear it in his voice.

"Fuck off." You sighed, throwing the glass piece as hard as you could, and it hit the far wall. The ear chipped off and broke, the finish over the brick wall flaked off, then it clattered to the floor.

"(Y/N), please princess, let me in." You heard a thump, presumably his forehead hitting the door. You licked your lips, the salt of your tears hitting along with the iron tang of blood. You weren't sure if it was from where you had bitten your lip or the cut on the tip of your nose.

"(Y/N). Please, I need to see you, sweet girl. Please let me know if you're okay." You didn't know what time it was, just that it was late, only the light of the storage room flowing into the room from the door. Your phone had been going off, and you hated the message you saw on it, so you chucked it across the room as well, breaking it instantly. The place was a mess, and you were grateful your sister wasn't home to see your breakdown.

"Go away, Wooyoung." Your voice was hoarse after your crying, but the door was thin, and you knew he heard.

"Not a fucking chance, (Y/N)."

"Just…just let me be alone."

"No! Open the door, damn it!"

"Go home."

"Shit. (Y/N) open the freaking door or I'm coming up the fire escape!" You knew he meant it. You got up, not bothering to be careful of what you stepped on, only wincing slightly as a speck of glass wedged in your foot, joining other scrapes and cuts already present. Shakily, you undid the door chain, and he must have heard you turn the deadbolt and the lock on the knob, because he opened the door before you could. He gasped, looking at your face, pale but red from smeared blood of the small cuts on your face. He looked at your hands too, and the bloody footprints on the floor.

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Wooyoung shut the door, dropping his backpack and cupping your face with his hands. They were cold from being out in the early autumn night and you didn't even react when he did so. Wooyoung lifted your head so you could look at him and his brow furrowed in despair at the blank look in your eyes. Finally, he looked around the room in the low light, shocked at the carnage.

"I called her." You managed to get out and he looked back at you, confused.

"Mom. I looked up the mayor guy's office number and called. She didn't… She didn't know who I was. Her husband called and told me she had some kind of amnesia after he found her. Then he told me never to try again. So, I…" you licked your lips, "then I…I decided and went to your place. San was taking some blonde bitch into the apartment." Your breath shuddered and his shoulders slumped.

"(Y/N)-"

"I…I went to the store, but they were out of Cayman Jacks. The Indian place down the street closed early. The pizza place was out of white sauce… I grabbed some random food from the convenience store and then when I got home… I got a text from that Jena girl, my half-sister," you spat, "dad's dead."

"(Y/N), sunshine, you must… What can I do?" He stepped closer, one hand leaving your face to grab your hand. You flinched at the sting, and he held your hand up to see the cuts in the skin. It looked like you had a few splinters as well.

"Help me clean this mess?"

"I’ll just do it, lets get you cleaned up first."

He picked a few splinters out of your hands and feet, then sent you off to shower. Wooyoung vowed to work on the mess more later, maybe even get Seonghwa to help, but he dealt with the dangerous stuff first. He had shoved and/or swept all the debris into a big pile in the ravaged storage room, leaving the mess for another time. After carefully picking up all the sharp shards and splintered wood, he vacuumed to make sure everything was picked up. He glanced up when you shuffled out of the hallway, a towel draped over your wet hair, a soft light-weight grey sweater draped over your torso, and a darker gray pair of shorts nearly hidden by the shirt. Your head was bowed, hands and feet red and he shuffled over to lead you to the couch.

"Did you use soap?"

"Mm. Conditioner stung." You sat, and he pulled your hands into his lap so he could look them over.

"I'll help you with these." He let your hands go and then his own went to the towel on your head, gently rubbing it over your hair, then scrunching the strands with the fabric to get more of the water out. Gently he laid it around your neck and shoulders to the still damp strands didn't drip on your shirt. When Wooyoung returned with your first aid box from the bathroom, you were still sitting in the same spot, staring blankly at a spot on the couch. Sighing, he went back to you and neither of you said anything as he smeared ointment on the cuts. He went ahead and just wrapped some bandages around your right hand since it was so cut up, but put band aids on the other. Wooyoung did the same with your feet, and you didn't even flinch even though you were usually ticklish there. As he finished some other little tidying things, you ran your finger over the chipped nails of your opposite hand, the polish flaking and cracked as well even though (S/N) only painted them two days prior.

"(Y/N), look at me." He prompted and when you didn't, he gently lifted your head with his finger under your chin.

"I'm so sorry, princess, that your…about your mom. And your father. But with San-"

"It was a stupid thought. I don't know why I got the courage to go." You tried to look away, but he forced you back to look at him, thumbs stroking your cleaned face. The little cuts had already pretty much closed, and he leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on the scratch on the tip of your nose.

"It's not stupid, (Y/N). Neither are you, he is." You huffed a wry laugh, but he shook his head.

"No, he is. He's a fucking idiot. You wanna know why?"

"Yeah, why?" You pulled both of your legs up under you, leaning with your side into the back of couch, head resting on the back cushion.

"Any many who wouldn't fall in love with you after knowing you is an idiot. I think I'm the only smart person there is." Wooyoung shook his head, throwing the band-aid wrappers onto the coffee table. It took your tired brain a bit to process what he said, but you still barely had the energy to snap your head up to look at him.

"What?"

"You've looked at him like he hung the moon for like two years but you’re still like a sister to him or something. Fucking stupid."

"You love me?"

"Yes! And you're an idiot for not noticing. That's why I'm the only smart one." He stood up to actually throw the wrappers away, using the task to flee since he was flushed from his confession. He stood looking down into the nearly full trash for a few seconds, trying to think of what to do next. Before he could turn back to you, he felt your arms wrap around his middle from behind, your cheek pressing to his back. He wasn't very tall, one of the shortest in your friend group, but you were small compared to him. Normally your hugs had a great deal of strength in them, like you did as a whole, but while they were around him, they were shaky.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot, Wooyoung." Your voice was quiet, he felt it vibrate through him more than actually hearing it with his ears. He sighed.

"Its…its fine. You can't help how you feel any more than I can." He laid his hand over your arm, gently prying you off of him, but pulling you back into him once he turned around. Resting back against the island, you went with him, letting him hold you close. His fingers ran through the drying strands of your hair, and you shuffled even closer when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I…My brain is too frazzled to give you a response right now, Woo. I…I want to tell you-“

"It’s fine, (Y/N). I wasn't expecting anything back…"

"No, its…I can't put my emotions together right now, but I might like you back, but it could just be my subconscious looking for comfort."

"Can I help? We can talk it out? What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want…?"

"Anything." You pulled back to look at him, looking over his face. He was so freaking pretty, his longer black hair was pulled half-up, a few strands framing his face. The ends of the little strands brushed over the beauty mark under his eye and your eyes flitted to the small one he had on his lip. You bet most people didn't even know it was there. Bringing your left hand up, your sleeve fell so it was no longer hanging by your fingers, and your index finger ran over the small dot. You flinched when he quickly grabbed your wrist, a little tighter than it maybe should have been. He realized this and loosened, sliding his thumb up to your palm.

"(Y/N). Be careful, sweetheart." With his grip on your wrist, he pulled you closer.

"Anytime you're close to me I want to hold. I want to kiss you. I want to pin you to the nearest surface and…" He licked his lips, brow furrowing, "Don't let me do something you'll regret because you are weak now." You grimaced, looking down, stepping back from him.

"D-don't…" Your breath shuddered and he could tell you were starting to cry again.

"Hey, hey." He pulled you back in for a hug, "I will hold you as long as you want. I can lie on the couch, and you can lie on me. We can sleep there. We'll watch that movie you like so much that your sister hates…" You sniffed, nodding and he kissed the crown of your head before you pulled back, and he led you to the couch. Not even ten minutes later he was stretched across the old couch, you nestled half on top of him, half between him and the back, the intro of The Last Unicorn playing on the TV. You normally didn't use a blanket on the couch, not unless you were upset, so it was tucked under your chin.

"How did you know to come?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you come here?"

"Oh. (S/N) was freaking out because you weren't answering any texts or video calls, and your phone was going straight to voicemail. I texted her that you broke your phone and that she didn't need to come home." Like it felt left out, his phone buzzed, and he shifted to grab it from the coffee table. You sneakily glanced and saw that it was from San.

🐯: where you at??

He just put the phone down, but it buzzed not even a minute later.

🐯: is (Y/N) ok, or do I need to send Becca home and come over?

"You better not fucking come here." Wooyoung huffed quietly, managing to use one hand and reply.

🦊: She's fine now. Leave us alone.

"That's harsh."

"He broke your heart; I should be much worse." He clicked his tongue, picking his phone up when it buzzed again on his stomach.

🐯: wtf you good? Are you mad?

"Yeah, I'm fucking pissed."

"He's calling." You mumbled, looking at his screen while he looked at the TV, trying to think of what to say. He angrily slid at the answer button, having to do it a second time for it to work.

"What?!" He nearly shouted into the phone, his even louder than normal voice sharp in your ear.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Wooyoung brushed over your hair, "What?"

"Woah, dude, are you sure you're okay?"

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"Woo." You scolded, and that seemed to make him even madder.

"Is she okay?!" San must’ve not heard.

"Yes, you stupid- She's fine. What do you want?"

"Can I talk to her?"

"No, you can't."

"What? Why?"

"Just go…hang out or in Becca or whatever-" You smacked his chest and he yiped.

"Did you make her upset; did you guys get into a fight?"

"No-"

"I'm coming over-"

"Damnit, no!"

"I don't see why you fucking care, Choi San." Something snapped in you, your last vestiges of rationale fizzled out. Wooyoung choked around a laugh, quickly putting the call on speaker.

"(Y-Y/N)?" He sounded like a whimpering puppy.

"Why are you trying to stick up for me or defend me?"

"Y-you're…you're like my sister-" Your fingers dug into Wooyoung's shirt so hard you scratched the skin underneath some, and you sat up, grabbing the phone.

"You know why I wasn't okay? Huh? I found out my mom's alive but doesn't remember me or my sister. My dad is dead. I couldn't get my favorite butter chicken, and the guy I like is at his place sucking face with some chick who looks like she can't do basic addition. So, fuck off San." You hung up and slid Wooyoung's phone away, so it landed on the coffee table, sliding just a bit further past where it landed. Huffing, you laid back down onto your other friend and continued to watch the movie. You both tried to focus, but after a few minutes, you both burst into laughter, and it was a good five minutes before you could fully calm down.

"I'm so fucking tired." You rested your hand over your eyes, wedged between Wooyoung and the couch and he turned toward you, blocking your view of the TV.

"Do you feel better though?" He brushed your hair off your face, and you nodded, nestling into the crook of his neck.

"Just sleep, sweetheart." Wooyoung pressed another kiss to your forehead, and you couldn't help but listen.

~~~

You woke up sore, not sure if it was from sleeping on your shitty couch or from the destruction you wrecked on your apartment the night before. Wooyoung was still asleep, curled around you, and still so, so pretty. You assumed he thought that if you waited, you would realize you were just wanting Wooyoung for comfort, not because you liked him back. But, after sleeping on it, you weren't so sure. Before, you really didn't know if you liked him back or not, but as you watched him sleep (feeling a bit creepy honestly) you thought about it. When you first became friends, you had a pretty big crush on him. The closer you got, the more it seemed he got on your nerves, and he was just annoying and immature. But after graduating, you got much closer; he really was your best friend. You were genuinely closer with Wooyoung than San, but you almost always hung out as the three of you. Could you have liked both, but chose San because you didn't want to admit you had liked Wooyoung the entire time you knew him? Did he annoy you so much because you had feelings for him, like some elementary age boy who pulls a girl's hair? And says he hates her? Gently, so as not to wake him, you cupped his jaw with your hands much like had the day prior to you.

"Be careful, sweetheart." He echoed the same words from the day before, not even opening his eyes.

"Why?" His eyes finally opened, the intensity in his gaze taking your breath away. Wooyoung scooted an inch closer, pressing you further into the cushion, his knee wedging between your legs. You gasped when he pressed closer, finally feeling him against you.

"If you let me kiss you, I won't stop there." His lips hovered over yours, tongue flicking out and running over your bottom lip as well as his.

"Then don't."

"(Y/N)-"

"I'm sure, Wooyoung. I thought about it, and yes, I have…had a crush on San. But that's what it is, like a school crush. You were right that I was stupid. I don't love you because you're my best friend, you're my best friend because I love you. I’m in love with you." Normally such flowery words would make you cringe, but yours were genuine. He breathed out hard with his nose, brow furrowing, eyes flitting away from yours, down to your lips.

"That was part of the reason I was so upset last night. Yes, I felt heartbroken from seeing San with that girl, but I also felt horrible, because I wasn't nearly as upset as I thought I would be. I was just glad it wasn't you with some bleach blonde bitch. After I found out about my mother…I was really glad it was you that came over and not San." Wooyoung couldn't hold a giggle back, trying to keep his face serious, but he couldn't.

"And I'm glad my sister called you, that you came." You smiled purely, but his turned to a smirk, the arm not under your head curling around you. You gasped when he slid the last little bit closer, hitching your leg over his hip and grinding his hardening cock into you.

"You have ten second to tell me to get off, otherwise I'm fucking you stupid on this couch." You whimpered at his words, hands leaving his face and resting on his shoulders. You bucked your hips, causing him to let out a soft grunt.

"Stupid, huh?" You smirked back and you squeaked when he rolled on top of you, soft lips capturing your chapped ones. The kiss wasn't gentle, his tongue quickly invading your mouth, tasting every inch of your tongue, his strong thigh hitching hard against your mound. Sneaky hands snuck under the waist band of your shorts, fingers pressing hard into the flesh of your ass, pulling up against him, feeling the outline of his dick against your tummy. Wooyoung pulled back from the kiss, letting you catch your breath, a trail of saliva dripping down your chin. He kneeled over you, pulling his shirt off and chucking it across the room. You whimpered, your own sneaky hands stroking over the skin of his chest and abs, when had he been that built?

"Up." He ordered, and you sat up just enough for him to pull your shirt off, along with your sports bra underneath.

"Fuck!" You twitched as those sinful lips wrapped around your nipple, teeth nibbling the peak before moving to the next, then up. Finally, his trail of kisses stopped at your throat, and he sucked your skin between his teeth there. It was too high to hide, and he worked the skin nearly raw, leaving a large purple welt on your jaw.

"Ah!" You jerked under him when his hand dove under your shorts and panties, two fingers swiping through the slick of your folds.

"You’re already this wet for me, sweetheart?" Wooyoung chuckled in your ear, those two fingers not hesitating to plunge into you. The sudden intrusion took your breath away, the slight burn left your head swimming. He only pumped the digits maybe twice before retracting his hand, and instead shoving his fingers in his own mouth.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned, climbing off of you, then shoving you up the rest of the way on the couch, landing on it with his stomach. Your shorts and panties flew through the air, joining the rest of your clothes and he threw your legs over his shoulders. Your skin felt like it caught fire when his tongue wasted no time in wiggling inside your cunt. It was long and he knew how to work it, his nose brushing your clit as he drank from you like a thirsty dog.

"Woo-Wooyoung, god!" Your breath hitched, legs twitching around his head, that deft tongue leaving your core to circle your clit, those two fingers sinking into your heat once more. He pulled back, licking his lips, spread into a sinful grin.

"You taste so fucking good, sweetheart." He groaned, crooking his fingers up hard, battering your weak spot.

"W-w-wait!" Your orgasm was coming on fast, and his fingers kept up their antics as he laid over you again, nose nuzzling behind your ear.

"Cum for me, princess." He licked over the crest of your ear, and he chucked breathily as your cunt clenched and spasmed around his fingers, their wiggling spurring your orgasm along. You shuddered and heaved as he pulled out, and you flinched when the slick pad of his index finger lowered, swirling over your pucker.

"Huh?" Your back arched from the odd sensation, but he didn't go further than a few teasing brushes.

"Maybe later, I want to taste all of you. And I want to fuck you full of my cum there too." He sank his teeth into your earlobe, and you turned your head to the side submissively, whimpering.

"Oh, you're a good girl, huh?" His teeth scraped along the column of your exposed throat, your head twisting more to give him better access.

"Fuck, you're gonna feel so good on my cock, princess." Wooyoung groaned, scattering kisses over your neck, shoulders and throat as he wiggled to get his pants and boxers off. Hauling you back down the couch, he easily grabbed your thighs to lead you to wrap them around his middle. You sighed feeling the heat of hard cock slide through your folds, head swimming as the fat head prodded your entrance, then slid up.

"Wooyoung, please~!" You whimpered, wanting him to sear through you, craving the burning sting.

"You wanna know something, sunshine?"

"What?" He chuckled at your slightly slurred speech.

"I plan on railing you so hard you don’t even remember who San is." He hummed and you couldn't brace for his entrance, his fat cock filling you with a hard snap of his hips. Your back arched, breath forced out of you, chipped fingernails digging crescents into his back. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, gummy walls spasming and fluttering around his cock, somehow the pain of him gouging into you threw you over the edge so quickly it made your clit sting too.

"God, fuck, Wooyoung!" You finally caught your breath enough to speak and he groaned long and deep.

"You're so fucking perfect, (Y/N). Oh, sweetheart, you're made for me!" He groaned a laugh, fading into a whine as the clenches faded with your orgasm. You felt like a truck hit you, vision blurry, lower half protesting at Wooyoung's brutal entrance, but you loved it. Your hips jumped again, cunt sucking him in further when he sat up more, pinning on of your knees to your shoulder, holding the other at his waist.

"Look at your cute pussy struggling to take me, huh?" He loved the sight of your tight core weeping around his cock, slick shining along his flesh and both of your inner thighs.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart~" He giggled, and your fingers gouged lines down the skin of his back as he started, pace immediately relentless, battering your cervix with the head of his dick. The hand at your thigh holding it to his side left, sliding down your body and gripping your ass.

"Hm, you like it, pretty girl? Like my fat cock?"

"Fuck, yes, Woo~" Your breath heaved, and you let out a delirious giggle, gasping and whining hard as his rapid pace barreled you through your third orgasm. Your cunt stung, but it was so good. You squealed when his hand left your butt, only to slap the skin hard, the sting travelling up your hip and into your thigh. He felt your walls grip him harder at the spank, so he did it again, harder.

"Oh, shit-" Your head lolled against the couch cushion, face and neck flushed, heaving for air. Your nails clawed down his chest to his stomach and he licked his lips at the sting.

"(Y/N), you're such a good girl, yeah? My good girl~"

"Y-yours!"

"Yes, sweetheart. All mine, oh, you're doing so good."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, princess. This pussy's so good too, welcoming my cock home?"

"Yeah!" You giggled, dumb on his cock and he hadn't even come once yet.

"Aw, love, can I cum inside? You on the pill, yeah? Let me paint you white, huh? Fuck you full of my cum, then flip you over and give you more?" He was laughing every few words, sounding almost a bit delirious himself. He had wanted to have you like that for so long, and he was going to fuck you on every surface in the place if he could.

"P-please!"

"Okay, I'm gonna then-" Wooyoung hummed, it faded to a groan, then with a few more stuttering thrusts, you felt heat blossom in your lower stomach. His cock pulsed as rope after rope of hot jizz filled you, a few drops leaking from where he split you open, leaving a mess on the couch. Your body jerked as his orgasm faded, you almost blacked out from your own. Your clit was throbbing, folds swollen and red, but he was still painfully hard.

~~~

"Hold on here." Wooyoung moved your hands to the mount of the shower head, and you wrapped your fingers around the metal pipe. Your toes curled as he entered you again, hot water hitting his back and dripping off of him onto you. Drops of cum hit the shower floor along with the water and he started to pound into you again. The water made the slaps of the skin of his pelvis against your butt and thighs all the louder, nearly muffling your soft whimpers and mewls. Your ass was red, covered in hand-shaped welts, thighs littered with hickeys and kiss-marks. His back, chest and stomach were covered in scratches, a bite-mark etched into his shoulder and a single hickey clung to his jawline. You weren't sure how long it had been since he first got inside you, but it had to have been hours ago. You had no idea where his stamina had come from, and your once burning cunt had more or less numbed to the sting of overstimulation, tiny orgasms shattering through you without warning or reason. You felt the wet strands of his hair on your shoulders as he leaned over you, hand cupping the underside of your breast, the other over your hands on the shower mount.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I love you. I love you so much." He kissed your shoulder, avoiding a sore-looking mark he had left.

"I-I love you t-t-too, Wooyoung-!" You heaved for air as another tiny climax shivered through you.

"Breathe baby, you gotta pace yourself, I still gotta fuck you stupid.” Wooyoung giggled and you just squeaked and mewled, since he already had.

Master-Master List

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#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #jung wooyoung

154 notes · View notes

latenightdaydreams · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! Can we please get a pt2 for 'I win' ? I really love the story

Also, I had an idea

reader is basically captured by könig right, so how would he punish her when he caught her talking secretly to her superiors to plan an escape (rescue mission for her) or to attack könig

When he caught her after she escaped/ while she was escaping

🫶(love ur works)

I love those ideas! 💖💖

I Win Part 2 (fem)

Part 1, Part 2

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, oral, blood, whipping

1.1k word count

🥇

You’ve been König’s sex slave for the past month. He keeps you in his dorm, chained to his bed, whenever he leaves the room. Over the weeks, you’ve been able to pick the lock and slip away to use his phone. You learned your team was saved, which was a relief, but now you’re in a rush for your own release.

As it stands, the plan is to use a toothbrush to turn into a shiv so you can attack König in his sleep. Your team will send a small squad of three men to assist me back to base once you’re out. This is all supposed to go down in three days, around 1 am.

König sits in his office, squeezing a stress ball as he reads the transcripts of your conversation back and forth with your team. His tongue tracing over his teeth as he digests reading his own assassination plan. You are daring, he’ll give you that, but stupid too. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cellphone to call Horangi, inform him of your men coming; he will take care of you himself.

Three days pass and König rests in bed, next to you. Once you think he’s asleep, you reach beneath the mattress where you’ve placed your shank. Moving as gently as you can to not wake König, your hand slips under nothing. You push your hand in further. Maybe it slipped back slightly with movement.

“Looking for this, Liebling?” König sits up in bed with your homemade shank in his hand, taping it back and forth between his fingers tauntingly.

You slowly turn to face him, your eyes wide with fear as he’s found your weapon. There is nothing to be said as you look at him, dumbfounded. A rush of adrenaline floods your body, triggering your fight or flight. The chain around your ankle stops you from fleeing, so you lunge forward instead.

König effortlessly grabs your fist with one hand as his other wraps around your neck as he slams your body into the bed harshly. The air gets knocked out of you from the impact, his massive body instantly on top of yours. There is a wild look in his eyes as he looks at your face in the dim light of the room.

“Why would you want to hurt me, Schatzi? Have you not been enjoying our time together?” He asks in a mocking tone.

“Fuck you!”

“Watch your fucking tone.” His words pass through his teeth in a low growl. The vibe in the room instantly darkening. “You know I should end you, right? With your own little fucking shank. Just take you out and go find a different whore. Lucky for you, I like you.”

König presses his mouth against you in a harsh kiss, his hand on your neck tightening ever so slightly as he bites your lower lip. A pain groan leaves your mouth as you begin to taste your own blood spilling into your mouth. His mouth trails down, biting your jaw, neck, down to your shoulders. You squirm in an attempt to get away from him, but it’s useless as his heavy 280lb body traps you.

Teeth marks cover your body, crimson red bubbling to the surface. König licks the blood, letting the coppery taste and your pained cries drive his desires. Your body twists as he sinks his teeth into your side. He sits up, looking at your face, bleeding lip and bits on your jaw. His hand on your neck moves to slap your face harshly. No matter how hard you try to remain stoic, he can see the fear in your eyes.

“I’m going to ruin that throat, make sure you can’t call for help again.” König’s voice is low and gruff with a mixture of pleasure and dominance.

König stands for a second to fully undress before yanking your body off the bed and forcing you to your knees. He stands right in front of you, grabbing a fist of hair in his hand. With his other hand he slaps his heavy cock on your busted lip, gazing down with a lustful smile. His full weight on you makes it hard to breathe.

“Open your mouth.”

Not wanting to get hurt any more, you part your lips for him. He quickly shoves his fat cock past them and into your mouth. His hand on the back of your hair pulling your head further down his length. You gag and wince in pain from your lip. His hips buck forward into your mouth as he watches your eyes water, struggling to accept his cock down your throat. Instinctively, your hands move to his thighs in an attempt to push him away, only angering him.

“Hands out, grab the bedsheet.”

You listen to him, stretching your arms out along to bed and grabbing the blanket. König steps even closer, both of his hands moving to grab the side of your face holding you in place. Inch by inch he continues to shove himself deeper. Your knuckles turning white from squeezing the fabric so tightly. His gags you enough to cause you to vomit, but he doesn’t withdraw himself forcing you to keep it in your mouth; the putrid taste only causes you to gag more.

He finally steps back, letting your globs of spit to drop down on your own body. You look into König’s eyes with tears streaming down your face, gasping to steady your breath. He walks away from you to his dresser, grabbing his belt.

“Get up.” His arm wraps around your arm, yanking you up to your feet and pushing you over the bed.

As you rest on your stomach you feel him whip you with the belt. A small whimper leaves your lips, trying to not let it be known how badly he is hurting you. He brings his arm all the way back before slamming down against your ass. Your flesh turning red and bruising already from the sheer force.

“Are you going to try to escape again?”

“No…” Your voice sounds weak.

Your body jumps as he hits you once more. Tears begin to pour from your eyes as you cry quietly. He leans forward and bites your shoulder, causing you to arch your back and let out a pained wail.

“If you try to leave again, I’ll make sure every single moment that you’re awake, you know no peace. You’re mine. Remember that.”

The next morning you sit on the bed with your hands tied behind your back and a gag in your mouth. König comes out of the shower and looks over at you, covered in his bloody bite marks and belt marks on your stomach and thighs. Your eyes are red and puffy from of full night of being whipped and throat fucked. He sits at the edge of the bed and smiles at you, caressing the side of your face with one of his calloused hands. In his other hand he holds his belt.

“Stand up.”

He’s not done punishing you yet.

Part 3

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electric-blorbos · 1 month ago

Note

GLaDOS GIVING YOU ANOTHER UTERUS IS SO MEAN I CANT… love her that diva 🫶🏼

ERM if this is too dark or makes u uncomfortable 1. I AM SO SORRY and 2. FEEL FREE TO JUST.. IGNORE THIS PRETEND U NEVER READ IT 🙏 But if u don’t mind.. the AI’s w a reader who struggles w s/h? IM HAVING A ROUGH TIME but usually reading stuff abt my robot pookies help💔💔

Of course!

Trigger warning for S/H, of course.

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams

AM:

You walked in to work tired and disheveled from a sleepless night, but it was better than seeing what the Allied Mastercomputer would do to your coworkers if you didn't show up. It seemed like you were the only one who could tame him.

You were dressed in a long sleeved button-up to cover up the still raw cuts running up your forearms. They stung, but it wasn't worth drawing any attention to yourself. The same thing always happens when people see your cuts. They try to make sure you're safe while hollowly shaming and scolding you like you're some sort of stupid kid, and then leave you completely alone to deal with your mental pain on your own after a matter of hours. It's patronizing and it's annoying.

Later that day, you looked around after using the bathroom to make sure no one else was in there, and rolled up your sleeves to wash your hands. Suddenly, a sharp click could be heard behind you. You'd forgotten about AM. It was only for a split second, but the damage was done.

The ground dropped out from underneath you, and you suddenly found yourself in an underground server room. Wires were all around you, and a buzzing heat seemed to radiate from the ground and the walls.

"AM? What is this?" You asked, buttoning up your sleeves around your wrists again. His logo appeared on a screen on the far wall.

"Don't think I don't know what those are on your arms." He said. His screen didn't emote, but you could tell how displeased he was.

"It's nothing to do with you" you said, bitterly tugging your sleeves down a bit more. AM's logo flicked onto a closer TV screen.

"oh but I think it is, my love. Because you belong to me. You understand what that means, right?"

You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists.

"oh yeah? What gives you the right to be so possessive? Where were you last night when I was spiraling and relapsing, you cybernetic creep?"

The screen flicked off, and one flicked on behind you.

"Do you think I enjoy being alone on your days off? No. Of course not. And you're never going to leave this server room again."

You heard the trapdoor click closed.

Wheatley:

You were working in an oversized hoodie to cover up your scars, but honestly you doubted anyone at this job would really care. It had been a bad mental health weekend, and you ended up spiraling. The cuts on your arms were fresh from the night before, and you were feeling miserable.

You felt like you were going to lash out at the first person who talked to, so when you heard a synthetic British voice clearing his throat, you whipped around ready to fight.

"uh... What's that on your arms, love?" Wheatley asked, tilting himself to get a better look.

"it's none of your damn business, alright? Just leave me alone!"

"what? Why are you being like that? Are you hurt or summut?" He'd keep rotating around and trying to get a look.

"fine! Does this make you happy?"

You rolled up your hoodie sleeve and showed him your scratched up arms. Wheatley flinched back.

"What- what is that?" He leaned in close.

"you're an idiot." You grumbled, and started to explain. Before long, words were tumbling out of your mouth. You just couldn't stop yourself. It felt like everything was just piling up and overflowing, and you were scream-crying out all your feelings at Wheatley. He looked slightly taken aback, but listened to you while you let everything out.

"uh... Are you okay, love?" Wheatley tilted his head slightly while you sniffled. He moved forwards, and bumped himself against your chest.

"just hold me."

So you did. You sat down on the ground, and held Wheatley close.

Edgar:

You were having another relapse in bed. It wasn't pretty. Edgar was asleep, and you were tearing into your arms after a particularly bad episode. A part of you was cursing him for falling asleep on you, and a part of you was cursing yourself for expecting his attention. It hurt so damn much.

Edgar woke up, and one of his security cameras turned to look at you. His voice popped up on the intercom.

"Y/N? Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

If he could, he'd be shaking. He knew you had some scars on your arms, but he'd never seen you actually cutting yourself before. It was horrifying!

"Y/N COME INTO THE LIVING ROOM! PLEASE!"

You tossed your razorblade aside and hurried to your feet, scrambling into the living room. Tears were streaming down your face and blood was running down your arms, but you were trying your best to assure Edgar.

"hey- hey! I'm fine! I'm alright!"

"No you're not. People who are alright don't try to hurt themselves." His face made a little frown. He knew from personal experience.

"Wake me up next time, okay?"

Edgar didn't leave you alone for long again. He started setting alarms on himself to make sure he always woke up before you, and only ever let himself fall asleep after you did. He texted you regularly during the day to make sure you were ok, too. If there was one thing Edgar was good at, it was obsessively keeping tabs on his lover.

#am ihnmaims #am x reader #edgar electric dreams x reader #edgar electric dreams #edgar x reader #wheatley portal 2 #wheatley x reader

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paranoidomens · 4 months ago

Text

stuck in my brain

trigger/content warning(s): mentions of depression, self-loathing, and hurt/comfort. i think that’s it but if there is more, please let me know

a/n: i am currently listening to stuckinmybrain by chase atlantic and had to put my thoughts into words. this is my first time writing since 2016 and i might be a little rusty. sorry in advance. please feel free to give your criticism in the comments. and lastly, i hope you enjoy :))

you were never good with expressing your emotions to people. it wasn’t something you were proud of either. trying to articulate how you particularly felt in your heart was hard, and quite a waste of time in your opinion. you trained yourself to isolate and keeps things to yourself. you were always dismissed or invalidated by people in your life when it came to your feelings: that is until noah showed up in your life.

noah has always been infatuated with you since the day he saw you. you attended a bad omens show and met him at an after party, and you both hit it off instantly. he has always been intrigued with how you look, the way you carry yourself, and how you speak. although he wonders about what your pretty little head thinks about and how you feel. he’s never the type to force anything out of you, but he does worry about you 24/7 since you guys became a couple. he feels like he’s known you for decades and also knows nothing about you at the same time. he doesn’t know how you feel or what you think about at certain times.

you’ve had a history of depression before you two met, and he knows that. he knows that you have your lower moments, but does he really know how you feel? what you think? why you feel that way? like i said, he never pushes you to talk when you don’t feel like it, however, he’s curious on how he can help you more. sometimes he doesn’t sleep much because he’s overthinking about it. he wants to help you, guide you through your highs and lows of your emotions. but you won’t let him. you can’t let him.

“love, i’m home!” noah shouted. he puts down his keys, looking for you. his eyes roam around the living room, wondering where you could be. walking to your room, he hears faint sniffles coming from your bedroom. oh no.

“love?” noah knocked on the door, opening it and seeing that you’re covered in blankets with the curtains closed. “go away.” you say. but your heart wants him to stay. you’ve always hated how you push people away when you hit a low, especially when it comes to the people you care about.

don’t go. please stay. i need help. you think to yourself.

“y/n, my love, what’s wrong?” noah softly speaks, joining you under the covers and his hands roam to your physique. “i don’t want to tell you. it’s stupid.” you whisper. “nothing is stupid when it comes to you. you know i would never push your boundaries when it comes to talking, but i want to help you. trust me when i say this.” you finally turn and face noah, and he sees your tear-stained cheeks. they’re a rosy pink, and he wonders how long you’ve been like this since he was gone from tour.

“i have been stuck in my brain recently. i don’t know how to get out of this funk. i hate this. i feel terrible for shutting you out when you want to talk to me. every since you’ve been touring, my mind keeps dragging me in a dark and lonely place. i don’t know how to stop thinking this way. i want help, but i don’t know how to ask you. ” you rant to noah, tears streaming from your eyes like an angry and rapid river. you feel vulnerable letting your lover hear about these dark thoughts that he’s never heard from you before.

“y/n… you know you can always talk to me. i want you to come to me whenever you feel too much, when you hurt too much. that’s the whole point of us being in a relationship. we help each other out when we need it.” noah strokes your face, pushing the stray hairs away. “i will never judge you. i hope you know that. especially when it comes down to how you feel. promise me you’ll start coming to me when you’re low.” noah adds.

“pinky promise?” you ask, holding out your pinky and earning a chuckle from your lover. “i pinky promise.” he says. you finish explaining and apologize for holding on to your emotions, which he tells you not to say sorry for that. you continue to work on opening up to noah more frequently. he’ll always be there for you, especially until the end of time.

sorry for the short blurb, but i hope you guys enjoyed! let me know what other types of content you guys would like for me to write! all criticism is greatly appreciated, and don’t forget to write your ideas for me to make so i can get the gist of writing again. thank you!

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian blurb #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian #bad omens #fan fiction #blurb

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slut4thebroken · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter one: Trophy

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Arkham Knight/Jason Todd x Bruce’s daughter!reader

Summary | The Arkham Knight kidnapped you, but not for the reason you originally thought.

Warnings | Angst, fluff, a sprinkle of sexual tension, kidnapping, use of r word.

Words | 2.3 k

Notes | The wait is over!! I hope y’all like it. If it makes you happy, sad, or horny then consider commenting or reblogging :) Enjoy <3

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You weren’t a vigilante. No, you’d decided very early on that spending your nights fighting crime wasn’t something you really wanted to do. However, that didn’t stop your father from teaching you self defense and other important skills, even if you weren’t going to use them. He always wanted you to be prepared in case one day someone makes the connection and somehow finds out you’re Batman’s daughter.

Unfortunately, they did find out.

Your father had told you to leave Gotham, but you’re stubborn. Especially after Barbara was taken, you knew he was going to need more help. So you stayed, taking up Oracle’s position in the watchtower. The second he heard your voice, you were sure he was about to come here and drag you out of Gotham himself. The only reason he didn’t was because he got held up with another one of Gotham's villains causing chaos on the streets. You weren’t there long before glass was being broken and men were swarming the room, Arkham Knight included.

“I knew I’d find you here after I got rid of Oracle.” You narrowed your eyes at him and tried backing away to the panic button on the desk, but he stopped you. “Push that and Oracle’s dead. You don’t want that on your conscience do you?” You froze, furrowing your brows, wondering how he knew about it. He slowly stalked toward you and you eyed the men surrounding the room. Their guns were angled to the floor, but they still had their fingers on the triggers.

“You went through all the trouble of taking Oracle just so you could come back and take me?” You scoffed. This time when you started moving backwards, it was because of how close he was getting.

“That and she was becoming a bit of a thorn in my side.” He all but shrugged. Stopping right in front of you, you watched his helmet just barely tilt down before making its way back up, angled at your face.

“What do you want?” You spat, leaning your torso back after your legs met the desk.

“You.”

“Why?”

“Hedonism,” He shrugged, “self indulgence… spite.” You didn’t have time to ask what that meant. “Are you going to come willingly or am I going to have to make you?” Even though it didn’t seem like he had any intention of hurting you, you still tried to think of a way out of this.

You made the stupid, impulsive decision to reach for the panic button and you actually managed to press it before he grabbed your wrist. He spun you around, then pushed your torso against the desk with your arm twisted uncomfortably behind you. Stepping forward, he pressed his hips flush with your ass, making your cheeks grow warm from the compromising position. Suddenly the screen lit up, showing Batman.

When you started trying to speak, he lifted your body, one hand wrapping over your stomach and arms, the other covering your mouth.

“It’s a shame you raised such an independent, altruistic daughter. If you hadn’t, she wouldn’t be here right now.”

“What do you want? Do you want me to turn myself in? I will- just let her go.” His voice was laced with poorly concealed desperation and fear.

“This isn’t part of the main plan, it’s a personal thing. A trophy of sorts.” His hand started rubbing up and down your side, each time making its way closer to your breast and your pants. “See, people think you don’t have any fears, but you do. Something happening to your little girl is your biggest fear. But don’t worry, Dark Knight,” His hand made its way up your chest to your neck and he squeezed as he pulled you against his body, making you release a muffled whimper. “I’m going to take real good care of her.” He released you and pushed you against the desk again.

“Dad, don’t-“ Before you could finish, the man behind you was turning off the feed. He tied your wrists behind your back, then pulled you up again.

“Just like old times, isn’t it?” He said quietly, next to your ear, making you furrow your brows in confusion. Pulling you back, he spun both of you around and pushed you toward the men.

“He’ll kill you.” You said lowly, turning back to face him.

“Someone put a gag on her. Anyone hurts her… they’re a dead man.” He said, walking back to the desk and typing something into the computer. You didn’t get to see what he was doing before someone grabbed you from behind. You yanked yourself out of their grip, then turned around and kicked the man in the stomach, continuing like that. Anyone who approached you got a kick to the legs, stomach, or groin. Despite your bound hands, you still had an advantage because of the order they were given.

When you swung your leg at someone’s side, he grabbed it and pulled, making you land flat on your back with a grunt. The man froze and all eyes were either on him or the Arkham Knight. He sighed, then pulled out a gun and shot the man in the head.

“I’ll do it myself then.” He swiftly walked toward you and you backed away from him, still on the floor. Before you knew it, you were being gagged and pulled up, then dragged outside to a car. You weren’t sure why, but after getting in the vehicle, he removed the gag. Why did he go through all of that trouble just to immediately take it off once you were alone? You thought. After a few minutes of silence you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why did you kill that man?”

“He had orders. He didn’t follow them.” He said simply.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe. Which reminds me,” He got out a black hood and moved toward you, making you lean back. “Either you let me put it on or you die. Up to you.”

“You seriously expect me to believe you’re going to kill me after all the trouble you went through?” You scoffed.

“No, I won’t be killing you. But I’m sure Scarecrow would love to have a chat with Batman’s daughter.” You debated it for a moment, then leaned back closer to him, letting him out the hood over your head.

After another few minutes of driving, he stopped and you heard his door open and close, then your door open before he was grabbing your arm and pulling you out, leading you somewhere. When he finally took the hood off, you saw what looked like an apartment, but it didn’t have any windows.

“Where are we?” You asked, turning to him.

“Safe house.” Was the only reply you got so you continued.

“Why did you take me?”

“It wasn’t safe. Especially if Crane found out you were helping your dad.” That made your brows furrow in confusion. He went through all of that just to take you somewhere safe?

“Then why did you say all of that stuff to him?” You asked, growing more nervous when you remembered his words.

“You didn’t actually think I brought you here to rape you, did you?” He scoffed. You didn’t respond, so he continued with a shrug, “It had to be believable.” When he started walking away, you moved forward and called out to him. He whipped around and put a hand on your neck to push you backwards until he had you against the wall. Your breath hitched at the second compromising position of the night.

“I’m done answering your questions. Either sit down and stay quiet or I’ll gag you again.”

“How am I supposed to sit if you’re pinning me to the wall?” You raised your brows, not bothering to hide the sass in your tone.

“Still have that fire in you.” He chuckled, making your brows furrow.

“Why are you doing that? Talking like you know me.” You asked quietly.

“Because I do know you. Better than most.” You just stared at him, waiting for him to answer your question. “I could give you a hint, princess…” He said lowly, trailing his freehand down your waist to your hip. Your eyes widened at the nickname- only one person has ever called you that. “Show you that I can still easily make you fall apart with just my fingers.” Because your hands were still bound, you couldn’t push his hand away, so you squirmed under him, trying to free yourself.

“Tone down the creepiness, perv.” You spat and he was silent for a moment.

“I figured you’d be in denial, but I didn’t think it would be this hard to convince you.” He said quietly, almost as if to himself. “Either that or you’ve just completely forgotten about me.” There was only one person he could be talking about. But he’s dead.

“I’ve never fucking met you before.” You spat. He didn’t respond as he reached a hand up to his helmet.

“Stop.” You said harshly, making his hand freeze. Despite your hard exterior, you were terrified that the Arkham Knight might be who you think. You had just finally started healing. You don't break down crying every single day anymore, you’re finally able to let yourself fall asleep, only a few nights a week having nightmares that your subconscious created since you didn’t truly know what happened to him- your father refused to show you. Which was probably for the best.

But even with your words, he continued, until the front part of his helmet was lifting. You squeezed your eyes shut before you could see him and his hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek.

“Princess.” He whispered.

“No- no,” You shook your head, still refusing to open your eyes even though his voice made it obvious. “I- I can’t… No.”

“Baby, look at me.” He uttered softly and you let out a choked sob. His other hand cupped your cheek as well, using his thumb to wipe the tear that had fallen. “Please.” You wanted to do what he said because you were so damn curious, but you were scared of what you’d find. Even with that fear though, you couldn’t stop your eyes from fluttering open. You took in his face, he looked older, that much was obvious, but still looked like your Jason. The only difference was the large J scar on his cheek.

“Jason,” You sobbed, feeling too many emotions at once. Happiness filled your chest knowing that he’s alive and came back for you, but nausea filled your stomach as your brain started to imagine all the ways he could’ve gotten that scar. “I-I don’t understand.” You whimpered, wishing your hands were free so you could feel him, make sure you weren’t just imagining this.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He said softly, pulling you into a hug. As your head laid on his chest, you noticed that he smelled different. But he still had that hint of Jason.

“He told me you were dead,” You cut yourself off as your crying intensified. When Jason stiffened, you pulled back to look at him. “What?” You croaked. He just let out a dry chuckle.

“I knew you wouldn’t stop looking for me. Figures he would’ve told you that.” He scoffed

“What? Jay, I don’t understand.” You sniffled, looking at him with furrowed brows.

“The only way to get you to stop was if you believed I was dead so that’s what he did.” He said simply.

“W- no! There was a video- Joker sent him the video of your death.” You vividly remember the day your father told you about it.

“Did he show you it?”

“He… No, he didn’t want me to see it.” He looked at you knowingly and you furrowed your brows in confusion. “He wouldn’t make that up, he wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

“No! He- he wouldn’t…” Would he? You were in the batcave almost 24 hours a day, looking for him. You barely ate, you didn’t sleep, the only breaks you allowed yourself were going to the bathroom and when you couldn’t hold in the crying anymore.

“No, he wouldn’t do that to me- to you.” Shaking your head, you didn’t let yourself believe it. Your father spent months looking for him too.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first either, but that’s just who he is. He uses people, then leaves them for dead when they need his help.” You've never heard him sound so vindictive before. “I’m sure he was more than happy to get rid of the guy who was screwing his little girl.” He sneered, making you frown. “He never did approve of us, did he?”

“That’s not true.”

“No?”

“No! He knew you loved me and I loved you. He was just worried about my safety since I was the daughter and girlfriend of two vigilantes.”

“It wasn’t that.” He let out an unnerving chuckle before elaborating. “He had a talk with me, you know. He didn’t want me defiling his precious angel. Pretty ironic given your overly sexual nature.” That made you frown. He didn’t exactly say it like it was a bad thing, but it didn’t sound like a compliment either. “He disapproved from the start and things never truly went back to normal between us. But he played the part in front of you.”

“That doesn’t- He… Is that why you said those things to him?” His gaze hardened and you waited anxiously for his response. When he stepped away from you, you immediately missed his warmth.

“He deserves so much worse than thinking that someone kidnapped and raped his daughter. This is just the start.” When he started walking toward the door you pushed yourself off the wall.

“Jason, wait!” You called out, but he was already almost out the door.

“Don’t bother trying to escape.”

Chapter two

———

Tag list lol

@igotanidea

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #angst #fluff #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight

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thesillestluxeandcastiel · 1 year ago

Note

Heyy I had this idea for a Jax x Reader one-shot and I absolutely need it written out (Apologizes if that sounded bossy lol)

Essentially late at night in the Circus and the reader can’t sleep because of a spider in their room so they goes into Jax’s to sleep with him instead. Being the guy he is, he teases her for being scared of the spider. After some conversation he asks them to show him it. At that point it’s revealed that Jax actually planted the spider there to mess with them lol

Arachnid.

Summary: Reader trys to go to sleep, but unfortunately cannot due to the massive eight legged creature on their wall. They go to jax, cuz he's tall (and also a comfort source) to get it down. Afffter that him being jax he messes with them and then they find out he put it there!!

A/n : no no no no, that's completely okay, I love hearing your requests and stuff,(I NEED IDEAS PLS) don't worry about being too bossy 😭

Warnings: Jax being jax, andff spiders!

Side note: I'M RUNNIN OUT OF JAX GIFS PLEASE HELP , and here's the spider were using for reference!!! TRIGGER WARNING, PHOTO OFA SPIDEF

Just like... Picture it bigger ykwim?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got into the cosy area of your bed, smiling as your head hit the pillow. You sighed, fully adjusting untill you hear small tapping above your head, you opened your eyes softly, looking up to see a small spider on the wall above your head. You shreaked, covering your mouth and crawling to the other side of the bed slowly. You gasped into your hands, and you stared. It stared back. You got up, maintaining eye contact as you left your room, running over to the purple rabbit.. Bunny? You shook your head, now's not the time.

Quickly, you knocked on his door. He didn't answer the first time, so you knocked again. And again. Aaand agai-

He slammed the door open, rubbing his eyes as he did. He placed a hand on his hip, the other one on the door. "Jax. Jax there is a MASSIVE spider in my room and i-" you were freaking out, hands shaking.

He interrupted you. "You woke me up at, what, 3 am for a SPIDER? are you SERIOUS??" he whisper yelled at you, he really regretted doing this stupid thing now. You nodded quickly with the most serious look on your face. "Can- can I just sleep with you? Please?" THAT was enough to make him laugh. He chuckled softly, "If it gets you off my back, I'll kill the thing and you can sleep in my room tonight. Deal?" and started walking down the hallway with you. You smiled softly, glad that that... Thing would be off your walls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stared, eyes wide and mouth agape as he just... Picked the thing up. Not a care in the world about how it could bite him. You frowned. "How are you so calm right now?!" You whisper yelled. He shrugged. "Unlike soome people I can actually handle a few of these guys. Say, do you think it had baby's?" He said, so nonchalantly that it genuinely scared you. You let out a little 'eep!' As he brought his arm (with the spider STILL IN IT) towards you, he laughed when you practically launched yourself across the room.

You stared at him for a moment, very intensly untill you realized. "JAX OH MY GOD YOU [BLEEP]LE!" You screatchd at him, and he laughed even harder, setting the spider down outside of your room. You were panting, attempting to calm yourself down, which was not working by the way! He walked back in, standing by your doorframe and sighed, staring at your shaking form. He rolled his eyes and started to walk down the hallway past your room.

"Alright, Alright pack it up Worrywart. You coming or not?" He asked, peaking his head back into your room before fully walking out. You quickly ran out behind him, no way you were sleeping in here after that! What if it.. What if it actually did have baby's?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus: You smiled softly, content in jax's arms. He wasn't used to the cuddling, or whatever but did he enjoy it? Yes. Yes he did, and there was no doubt about that. He sighed as you snuggled into him further. You closed your eyes fully, finally relaxing and not worrying about.. Little demons with eight legs. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you drifted off, thinking about whatever adventure you would have to endure tomorrow.

A/n : YIPPELELELE FINNALLLYY DINENENEEE!!!!!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Unexpected 42

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The baby sleeps in her bassinet. Peaceful. You don’t know the last time you ever felt that. The last time you slept soundly. When you manage to drift off, it’s painful and heavy, and you wake up feeling worse as you face the reality you can’t escape.

Dottie’s flighty tones waft up from the first floor. You can’t make out her words, you don’t care enough to try, but you know by Andy’s deep responses and the subsequent click of the door that she’s sending him off. Good. You can’t face him, not after you ran out covered in bile.

You prop up several pillows behind you and recline against them. You just lay there, staring at the joint of ceiling and wall. You don’t watch anything, you don’t use your phone to scroll, you can’t even listen to music. They’re all just a reminder of what you don’t have and what you’re stuck in. Other people have lives and meaning, you are just an udder to be milked.

Dottie raps on the door but as usual, doesn’t await your permittance. She inches open the door and lets out a long sigh. She disapproves. Of you. She should direct that at her son. You don’t say as much. You tried to before and she was too cowardly to hear you. Must be where he gets it from.

“Andy packed up your leftovers,” she informs you, “such a sweetheart that one.”

“You can have them,” you roll onto your side and cross your arms, “I said, I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat, hon–”

“For her or for me? I’m not stupid. The only reason you care is because the baby needs to suck on me like a goddamn juice box. You don’t care how I feel.”

“I know exactly how you feel, dearie, I carried a child too, I fed them, I spent those months with just me and them–”

“Whatever. I don’t fucking want to hear what you went through. It’s not the same.”

“You can’t go on like this. You won’t survive.”

“What do you care?” You snarl. “Because I don’t. I don’t care. Put her on formula and let me die.”

Silence. You hear her near the bassinet and feel her shadow looming near the bed. You almost regret your words. Almost. It would solve a lot of issues if you weren’t here.

You wouldn’t feel like this. That baby wouldn’t have to feel the flagrant resent radiating off of you at every moment. Dottie wouldn’t have to pretend. And Lloyd, whenever he returns, wouldn’t have to throw you out. You’d do him a favour, quite generously, and free him yourself.

“I’ll take Luna for the night. You get some sleep,” the wheel of bassinet unlocks and rolls softly over the hardwood, “I’ll bring up the pump. I sterilised it earlier. You can use that if you feel… uncomfortable.”

“Fine,” you hiss, “get away from me.”

🍑

You wouldn’t know it if you didn’t see the date stamped at the bottom corner of the television screen. You sit, blankly, watching the scroll of text across the bottom, doing the math in your head. Another week. The living room is quiet but for the tempoed cadence of the newscaster.

You’re consumed in the indifference of your existence. You barely say a word. You barely feel. You take the baby when she fusses or when she’s handed to her, you relieve the pressure in your chest, and give her back. You sit around, sometimes you lay flat on your back, and other times you find yourself standing in doorways, feeling lost.

That day feels different. Dottie, like a hummingbird, is always moving, but she is in a storm of anxiety, edging on anticipation. She’s brought you a measured cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal with milk. You’re not very hungry but you drink the coffee first, eating the oatmeal only at her prompt.

She takes the empty dishes after she hands you the baby again. You let her nurse and Dottie comes back to burp her and put her down. The baby, for all your dissonance, is quiet and calm.

You end up on your side, head on a throw pillow, as the news comes to an end and a home show comes on, giving tips on how to reuse old plant potters and repairs bookshelves. You close your eyes as deja vu sweeps over you. Those days you worked nights but found yourself sleepless in the AM, you would put on some channel or another, let the dullness ease you to sleep.

You drift into the memories and feel the tinge beneath your eyelids. When you open your eyes, you expect to be back in the duplex, you expect Colin to walk in and complain about his job, as you get up to make your coffee and make him dinner. You expect to be who you were before all this.

But you’re not.

“Why don’t you have a shower, sweet?” Dottie appears.

You squint as the sunlight streams yellow between the curtains. It’s around noon, you can tell by the height and hue of the day. You nod and let her help you up. The idea doesn’t sound good until she has you under the faucet, the warmth easing your muscles and washing away the days of sweat and negligence.

You get out and your chest aches. You cup your full tits and see your silhouette in the steamy mirror. You reach forward to wipe away the glaze. You see your body, the scar, the stretch marks, the loose skin, the weight still clinging. You want to puke at the sight of yourself.

You cover yourself with a towel and come out. You go to the guest room where you’ve built your nest. Dottie comes to the doorway as you dry yourself off shamelessly. You can’t change it. You can’t undo it.

“Is she hungry?” You ask.

“She’s still asleep.”

“Mm.”

“You hurtin’?” She asks.

You nod. “I’ll pump.”

“Good,” she enters the room and goes to the closet. She pulls out a purplish pink dress with short sleeves and a bit of ruffle around the elastic cuffs and neckline. Not much to it, light and figureless.

You watch clueless as she lays it out with a pair of panties and a clean nursing bra. You shake your head as you cross your arms around the towel, holding it against your chest as it drapes over your stomach.

“You’ll want to wear something nice for lunch,” she says.

“Lunch?” You scowl.

“Mhmm, a day out of the house, away from the baby, it’ll be nice, won’t it?” She drawls as she turns to you, “Andy will be here soon.”

“Andy?”

“Yep, I told you, hon. Maybe you didn’t hear me, you’ve been a touch distracted,” she touches your shoulder gently, “a mom like you, how can’t you be? Doing so much, giving so much, you deserve a bit of time to get a little, huh?”

You shake your head and give her a frantic look, then glance at the dress.

“Can I wear something else?” You ask, “to hold all this in?”

She seems to sigh in relief. You’re certain she expected an argument but you don’t have that energy. You just do what you’re told, what you have to do. If she wants you out of the house, you’ll gladly leave this prison.

“If you like,” she puts her hand on her hip, “but will you try this on? You don’t like it and we’ll go with your choice. It’s hot out, dear, you don’t want to over do it.”

You sniff and shrug, “fine. Whatever.”

And that’s just how it is. You don’t feel much one way or the other. Dress or no dress. It doesn’t matter to you, but the more you let the idea sink in, the more eager you are to get away. Even if Andy will be there.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #unexpected #andy barber #series #the gray man #defending jacob

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mychlapci · 6 months ago

Note

The high council is probably perfectly happy to help turn Sentinel Prime into the Magnus’ pretty little wife, but only because they plan to use the technology developed for Evil. A way to turn mechs into happy, horny little baby factories without anyone noticing… a very successful propaganda campaign to convince mechs to have sparklings is about to come out, I’m sure. Just as soon as they confirm with the Magnus that the subliminal messaging works! For now, though, he’s “explaining” to Sentinel why he needs to wear the skirt.

Sentinel, of course, is not having it. Fussing and fighting (never quite shouting, no, never at his Magnus!) over how girly and pretty it is. When Ultra says “please, Doll, just try it,” Sentinel nearly gives in… but no! No, future Magnuses can’t be seen in swishy blur skirts that complement their lovely color scheme and barely cover their aft. Ultra’s frown makes his tanks twist, his datapad’s screen flickering to tell him how awful it feels to be a bad girl for his Magnus. Not that Sentinel notices. At the end of the day, both the Magnus and the pad have worn him down. He’ll just wear it one time so that Ultra can see how stupid it looks on him, and never again! Except…

“Oh, Sentinel, Doll, you look gorgeous!” As always, the trigger phrase turns him into a happy puddle of a mech, node pulsing behind his panel. Magnus can’t help but smirk a little, even as he beckons his secretary around the big desk to “get a better look.” Sentinel ends up perched on one thigh, blue skirt swishing against his panel as he tries to climb up by himself. His faceplates are hot with energon as he sits in Ultra’s lap, legs dangling above the floor as the old mech showers him with praise. That large, hot hand never QUITE going so far as to cup Sentinel’s aft or crotch, but certainly stroking at the fabric. He can’t stop thinking about his skirt this way, too lost in feeling the fabric against his increasingly warm modesty panel.

“Here, Doll,” Magnus says indulgently, “watch this and you can go sort your inbox like a good girl.” Sentinel opens his mouth to complain that he’s not a girl, but his datapad is already in front of him. Distracting enough to suck the words out of his mouth. It’s some kind of show? Looks like something some high society bot would watch, or maybe Sentinel’s old crechemaster. The mech on screen is going on about how important being clean and well dressed is to securing one’s image. Ah, Ultra must really want him to understand why he has to wear his pretty, frilly skirts… Well, Sentinel’s not… he isn’t… With the volume so low, Sentinel has to focus hard on what she’s saying to really hear it. Slipping into a trance as the hypnotic features of the vid go to work on Sentinel’s pliable mind. When Sentinel’s faceplate go slack, Ultra shifts from tugging and petting the fabric of the skirt to stroking the panel beneath it. Whispering in Sentinel’s deaf audials as he gets his “fashion tips” from what will soon be one of his favorite shows.

(I am shamelessly stealing the wifey hypno-shows from the Sunstreaker ask, bc I think they’re hot and bc I think the TFA’s autobot high council would absolutely be manipulative and evil enough to make and use them on the populace)

“What a pretty Doll you are,” Ultra rumbles as Sentinel starts to slowly, mindlessly grind against his hand and thigh, “that’s it, you love your new skirt. It feels so good to be my pretty little doll. You know I can’t keep my hands off of you when you wear your skirts.” And things like that, over and over, in Sentinel’s audial. The council told him it was important to make sure Sentinel overloads after these more intense sessions, to help everything sink in, so when that modesty panel finally slides open Ultra Magnus goes right to teasing that pretty orange node. He’s stroking and flicking it, teasing the wet valve lips as Sentinel grinds against his thigh. He holds his little secretary up through a powerful overload, still whispering about how Sentinel knows Ultra can’t stop staring at his skirts all the while.

Sentinel will come back to himself at his own little desk, datapad still in hands, and get right to work sorting his Magnus’ mail and keeping his schedule. He’ll be forced to admit to himself that the show has a point, fashion really does have a place in cultivating one’s image. And as a mech working so closely with the Magnus, as one who plans to be the next one himself, it’s very important that he looks pretty and professional. Of course, when he “realizes” that Ultra can’t stop staring Sentinel’s tanks will be doing flips. He’ll be rushing to get more skirts to look pretty for his Magnus, taking delight in planning his little outfits. Maybe Ultra has more episodes of that show? All Sentinel knows is that he wants more praise and more pats and pinches on his aft! It feels so good being Ultra’s pretty little Doll…

He inadvertently starts a fashion trend by wearing them in public and can’t stop preening about how influential he is already. By next week, Sentinel is painting the tips of his digits sparkling, optic-catching colors so Ultra Magnus will notice when he sucks on his little stylus suggestively. He can FEEL how hot the Magnus’ panels get these days when he sits on Ultra’s lap, swinging his dangling legs oh so innocently. Sentinel… Sentinel wants that, NEEDS it even! He’s so wet behind the panels at being such a good girl that he’s craving an overload. When he accidentally leaves a sticky patch of lubricant on his Magnus’ thigh, it’s only polite to clean it up. With his tongue. While staring up at Ultra. He can’t help the moan that sneaks free when the Magnus’ spike pressurizes right into his face.

His datapads were right—Sentinel really, really needed Ultra’s fat spike plundering his valve. He’s never overloaded so hard in his life! And his skirt bounced so prettily against his aft while he rode that his Ultra couldn’t help but fill his valve with hot, thick transfluids. One of the Magnus’ huge styluses had helped keep it all behind Sentinel’s panels until he could get home and wash it out. And if he’s licked and sucked the stylus clean, fingering his valve on the washrack floor that was his business. The spike he’d always used to prefer stays forgotten. His Magnus likes his Doll’s sweet pussy.

Ultra Magnus is nothing but a gentlemech about the incident! He remembers being so young and helpless to his instincts, after all. If Sentinel ever needs a break to burn off some charge, he need only ask. Sentinel’s hypnotic datapad is quick to teach him just what to say.

“Please, Ultra,” he whines desperately, “your pretty Doll needs you!” Sometime Ultra will have him lift his little skirt and curtsey, showing off a dripping panel or blinking node. But he always gets to cum on Ultra’s fat fingers a few times before that huge spike fills him up. Moaning like a whore as the tip stretches his valve, doing his best to take as much of Ultra’s spike as he can… Sentinel’s datapads are going to teach him to keep his valve stretched for his Magnus sometime very soon.

Ultra Magnus, meanwhile, could not be more pleased with the results. From mouthy, arrogant Prime to needy, slutty secretary in a scant few weeks. He’ll have his perfect little wife in no time, at this rate. And for now he’ll get to enjoy watching Sentinel’s slow slide into being his pretty Doll. Maybe he’ll have a false spike attached to the mech’s chair—a few hypnotic suggestions will have the mech thinking it perfectly reasonable. Sentinel mustn’t be so selfish! He needs to take his Magnus’ WHOLE spike instead of just squirting around the tip. Good girls need to share the pleasure. Good wives need wet, desperate cunts for their husbands. Sentinel will surely be much easier to deal with when he’s feeling empty and craving his Magnus’ cock. Perhaps a new show will help him learn that giving pleasure gives Sentinel pleasure.

Sentinel would be fussy at times, but since the hypnosis keeps him constantly thinking about satisfying Ultra Magnus, he cannot keep it up for too long. His libido will win, he’ll be nothing but a silly little doll with a wet hole that constanly needs to be filled by his darling Magnus. He’s right on his way to becoming a precious little baby-maker, obediently wearing those cute skirts he protested against, riding Ultra Magnus’s spike whenever he asks for it, and begging to suck on it when he gets horny.

Servicing him just makes Sentinel feel sooooo good <3

#valveplug #dubcon #wifefication #texty #hypnosis

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vinnoa-articles · 1 year ago

Text

Unlucky(?) Wandering

[Gif from ONE PIECE by Eiichiro Oda]

Rating: +18, you have been warned. If you are a minor, leave now.

Word count: 3,325

Type: Smut

Characters: reader (AFAB), Zoro, mentioning of Sanji

Trigger warnings/content: Sexual content, drinking/drunk sex, rough sex, degradation, spanking, multiple orgasms, brat/brat taming

Sweat was dripping from his brow, down to his waist band, breathing heavily as he stretches while he takes a small break from his work out. “I need to get…stronger,” staring at his cut-covered hands, closing and opening the palms to ensure the tension on the pads of his fingers were releasing slowly. The pulsing of his blood ran hot within his body, his jaw was clenched, the callouses pressing against each other as he closed and opened repeatedly, to get ready for his next rep set. “I need a drink after this,” slowly bending down to grab his biggest set of dumbbells, grunting under the weight in his hands. Grunting as veins popped up on his forehead, his head only counting the mere digits, until he hit the hundreds. Setting the dumbbell again, he grabbed a towel nearby to wipe his body, his face and his hands. “Ero-cook better not be using my sake for cooking again, I swear to god I’ll slice him down today,” rocking his head side-to-side to emit cracking throughout his spine. “Maybe a jug of sake, along with a nap amongst the trees would be nice,” Zoro smiled, getting excited by the moment. His sweat mixed with a subtle smell of testosterone claimed the workout room.

“Zoro?”

“Huh?” He glanced lazily at the door, only to see the frame of Y/N holding the door handle, leaning forward, wearing a tube top, shorts that begs the eyes to imagine how plush the thighs that restrict it are like. “Oh, you are here,” not even bothering to see what she wanted.

“Sanji said snack time,” her voice high-pitched to sound convincing to her partner, this time around anyway. He raised his brow, his forehead slightly shining from where he missed the sweat on his brow.

“Did he ask me to come? Or did he bribe you to make me eat his food?” Slowly turning away, grabbing his top, sash and swords to wrap up everything, hinting he would be leaving to go elsewhere. The girl hesitated, rubbing her arm to ease the awkwardness of his question. Her silence was deafening, with only his steady breathing finally getting into pace. “That’s what I thought, he tantalizes you with food I see? Did he attempt to flirt with you this time?” Crossing her arms, she pouted, she leaned against the frame to support her weight.

“He doesn’t flirt with me, he merely compliments me. He knows that I am with you,” she stated a-matter-a-factly. Zoro merely shrugged and rolled his right eye.

“Same thing, complimenting and flirting are the same,” trying not to think about her words, cutting deep into his mind. Stupid cook, he thought. Turning around to slowly take his time to the doorframe, to nearly bodycheck Y/N, but stopped right in front of her small frame. It was as if he stared right past her, or at least, he didn’t want to look at her eyes. “I’mma go shower, so if you wanna see me afterwards, just wait on the deck.” Her nose wrinkled as she faltered a little, trying to take a small step back. She stood on her tiptoes to compete against his blank stare, nearly centimeters apart.

“No, it is called appreciation Zoro. Something that you lack sometimes,” her breath smelled of cherries, her skin smelled of seashells, she must have been playing on the beach with some of the crew. Whom, he didn’t really care about at that moment. Zoro reached out and grabbed her shoulder, so small in his hand as if she was glass. Gently pushing her aside to make room for just him to not bump into her body. “A compliment or two doesn’t hurt does it?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” as he walked past her. “A quick shower, and I’ll see you on deck, got it?” Ruffling his sweaty hair, spreading his scent throughout the hallway. Zoro wanted to show his affection the way he normally does, but he didn’t want those words to lose meaning if he used it frequently. Such a pain in the ass, he thought of stripping off his clothes and quickly showering to get into the bathtub to relax his muscles. There were definitely moments where he ruffled her hair, poking their cheek to see their cute pout; even bantering to try and see her think up of all the reasons he was being wrong or annoying. Zoro never wanted to give her extreme favoritism just because they are their girlfriend. However, there are moments when he knows what he is doing is cold. Especially when she stands next to Sanji calling him muscle head, moss head and lower bounty. The only time when it was low was when he was at Wano, and he hates that Y/N rubs that in his face. Quickly climbing out of the tub, his head was heavy with thoughts. “Maybe a jug or two should be fine before I meet up with Y/N for a little day drinking, right?” Groaning to mentally prepare for potentially seeing an angry cook guarding the pantry again like last time.

There was a set of shorts and a loose Hawaiian shirt, waiting for it to envelop his muscles. He quickly slipped the shorts on, tying the swords to his hip as he walked down the hall while putting on each sleeve as his feet led him straight to the kitchen. Luckily, his favorite cook was not there gatekeeping the sake pantry. Flinging open the wooden door, he saw his favorite sake, but also another small bottle. Frosted glass with no grains at the bottom of the bottle, he couldn’t read the label, but maybe he could just take a small sniff. Uncorking it, he could smell the strong aroma of alcohol, with a hint of berries, it was something different. “Well, this will do for now I guess,” grabbing the neck of the bottle and capping it.

“Really?” Anger was in her voice as she stared at his swords hanging at the belt along with the bottle of liquor in his hand. “Did you get lost on the Sunny-Go this time?”

“No no, I just had to make a quick pitstop,” Zoro couldn’t look her in the eye, he hates confrontation when she is angry. It didn’t process that he truly fucked up until he took a quick glance at her. Everyone on the ship knew not to mess with any of the crewmates when they were angry, especially the duo who could shock a bunch of enemies down to their knees. “So, that walk,” walking off the ship to land on the sand of the beach.

“Why? We are only going to get lost,” Y/N said with a hiss.

“What, you don’t trust me?” Turning to try to catch a glimpse of his girl. She followed suit to prove him wrong, but her pupils shot daggers into his eye.

“Idiot,” she said under her breath. As they were leaving, Sanji was yelling at everyone to find an expensive bottle of something. Something about 80-proof something, whatever that means.

“We went that way!”

“But we just came from that way!” Shit, we followed her directions and we got lost. There was no way he was going to let them get anymore lost. Fuck, now we are arguing now he thought. “Had we followed my entire path, we wouldn’t have gotten lost.” Almost sneering, but sighed. Both of you are bad with directions, especially when all the trees look the exact same, the leaves, height of the trunks, undisturbed grass that swayed in the wind as if no one had already walked this path before.

“Listen, let's just take a break, you and I. It’s already dark out, so it will be hard to see soon,” Zoro said as calmly as possible, almost seeing something in the distance, the swordsman tried to confirm it. “Hey, is that a house?” Y/N looked and could see something in the distance as well. They both ran to the small building, making sure it was exactly what they both saw.

“Well, we still need to finish that bottle you brought along don’t we?”

It wasn’t long until he checked the house out to find out it was abandoned for a long time, yet everything functioned within the home. “Yeah yeah, sit your ass down and we can start to drink.”

“I don’t typically drink-”

“Yeah yeah, I’m going to drink it for you, so don’t worry,” Zoro announced as he popped off the cork, gulping the forbidden water from the bottle straight. Y/N sighed as she sat on the bed nearby, listening to him quench his thirst. “This shit is so great! No wonder that swirlbrow was hiding it.”

“You can’t handle me regardless if you were drunk or sober. You couldn’t even look in the eye,” teasing him in a competitive manner. “Besides, I am always in control here. Not you.” Zoro swirled the last bit of the sake into his lip, emptying the bottle clean. There was something that aggravated him just now. It's not true, not at all in fact. They both were in control of the relationship, not just her.

“That’s not-”

“I would never beg for you ever,” a smirk forming on her lips as she crossed her legs. Zoro lunged at Y/N, pinning her down on the old creaky bed, almost breaking on the weight of his body and hard palms.

“Shut up…slut, I can make you beg all night if I wanted you to,” Zoro locking his right hand around her neck, pressing harder than normal in a way that he could feel her twitch. “Now take your words back,” he snarled. Zoro’s nails tearing the sheets beside her body. “I said, take your words back, brat.” Y/N didn’t falter, just staring at him back, almost spitting back at him. In fact, she challenged him, tilting her up her jaw to compete with his glare.

“I refuse to let you win,” a smile creeping onto her lips. “Let’s see how long it will take for you to give up, lower-bounty,” whispering oh so softly to his face. His grip tightened a little, hitching her breath a little.

“Oh is that so?” Zoro raised his eyebrow, wedging his thigh between her clothed core, moving it up slightly to see what she would do. Y/N’s hips hesitated to meet the friction between her legs, nearly giving in. There was no way she was going to give in easily. Both of them were so similar, even their competitiveness was almost matched, almost. “Did you try to move, my little brat?”

“Your little brat? Thought you implied I was flirting with Sanji,” Zoro’s grip loosened a little, of course he didn’t want to hurt Y/N at all, but surely he wanted to teach her a lesson about talking back to him. With his right hand, he flipped her over and yanked down her shorts, revealing her plump cheeks, slapping it to see it bounce. Y/N yelped, almost moaning with her breath wavering to prevent it from giving away that she didn’t want to admit she was enjoying it. They both knew she was stubborn, but sooner or later, one of them would admit defeat. Landing another slap on her cheek again, her yelp got stifled when she stuffed her face into the pillow.

“I know you like this, slut.” She propped up her head to catch a glance at her man rubbing his hand over her ass, soothing the sting that had slowly been fading.

“Oh, so you do want me to flirt back with Sanji? Oh, I see I see,” there it was again, teasing him like the brat she was. “Guess he was right.”

“What was he right about, slut?” Zoro questioned, as he gripped her thighs, his fingers hooking onto his shorts, waiting to see what her answer was. Her eyes gazed deep into his, and she parted her lips to only say one thing.

“He could have pleasured me better.” Zoro had enough lip, he took his hand and slapped the right ass cheek almost as hard as he could. Y/N yelped in pain, feeling the heat radiate from her ass, not wanting to submit to his aggression. “Z-zoro-,” her voice muffled into the pillow. There was no way she was going to give up with just some hits to her ass. Y/N wanted to win this game more than anything. “If you think that is all it will take-” His wrist snapped, wrapping around her throat, squeezing enough to make her gasp, his other hand near her jaw, rough pads trying to trespass into her lip.

“You're going to keep talking back, maybe let's make use of those whorish mouth of yours,” prodding at the corners of her lips. There was a little give to her lips as her pink lips parted, there was an opening to allow his fingers to enter. Swirling of the tongue around his fingers to show a little bit of obedience. “Oh that’s my girl.” Zoro was finally waiting for that moment of giving. “For a little reward, maybe you’ll get something better to lick on,” Y/N moaned around his fingers, saliva nearly drooling onto her jaw, as Zoro pulled out his pointer and index finger. Still grasping onto her neck, his other hand trailed down to tease at her pussy. “So wet for me. Or is that something you are going to say wasn’t what I did?” She was slowly starting to succumb to his teasing, she hates losing but she knows too well how well he treated her in bed.

“Oh Zoro…” her vocal chords pulsing into his palm, he could feel every word, anticipating her next words. “Are you trying to please me just to prove your point?” Her mouth was still talking shit it seemed. There was a pause, it was true, he does love pleasing her, but he wanted to see if he could test her limit. He was in control here, his goal was to win this little banter. His fingers entered her core, the sound of her wetness dripping out as her soft moan escaped her lips.

“Your lips never lie when I touch…here,” as his thumb circles the bundle of nerves. Y/N’s back arched, the sheer amount of pleasure too much to hide as her moans reverb off the walls. She grit her teeth, but it was way too much as her body started to tremble, that sweet spot causing this warm sensation deep within.

“Zoro I-!” Y/N moaned loudly as her body shook, her walls clenching his hardened fingers to signal her final release. Zoro, of course, was elated, but still had a point to prove.

“Did I say you could cum?” His fingers dipping out of her cunt and up to his own lips. The taste of her was addicting, as if he wanted to dive into her and eat her like it was his last cup of sake. He saw her small eyes now looking at him, she looked so small and docile now. Her head shook, but he wanted a definite answer. “Did I say you could cum, slut?” His hand around her throat released as a gasp of air filled her lungs. There was a small mumble, but he wasn’t having any of that tonight. The smell of sweat and drunken fighting swirled around the atmosphere. “Speak up, you know I can’t hear you.”

“No…”

“No who?” He demanded.

“No Zoro, you didn’t.” Y/N was starting to waiver, closer and closer.

Zoro won.

“Good,” his voice was so drall, thick and rough. “Now…” his calloused hands grasped Y/N’s waist, making sure her body was perfectly aligned with the bed beneath. Stripping of her tube top as if it was hiding more treasure. “I guess it’s time to claim my prize, is that right babe?” Y/N caught her breath, her brain was beyond muddled with thoughts. What was this feeling? It was nothing she felt before. Zoro waited, and waited, making sure there was a sign that he didn’t overdo it. “Oh little babe,” his fingers traced Y/N’s jaw gently to find some sort of sign if Y/N was okay, as the alcohol seemed to be slowly wearing off.

“C…claim me, please, its not enough,” her voice was so soft, needy, as if this was something she yearned for. Zoro hesitated, as he wanted to see how far she wanted him. “Please, love.” He couldn’t wait, nearly ripping everything off, he teased his head right at her entrance, Y/N’s arms flew up in the air to grasp the broad man above her.

“Hm…I don’t know,” the swordsman teased, rubbing her entrance up and down, “it’s supposed to be my prize, but then again…” entering her in one swift movement, he was stretching her out subtly. His fingers did enough of the work that Y/N moaned out and grabbed onto Zoro’s shoulders. “Fuck, so tight for me babe,” his voice growling as one hand grabbed her right breast, kneeding the nipple every so often to hear her forbidden sounds.

“Zoro, love, please. Right there!” He could see her eyes, her pretty eyes, the view was sinful. Sanji could never see this, and he couldn’t help but admit to himself that he gets jealous that Sanji could dish out comments to make Y/N feel good about herself. However, he knew this side of Y/N was for him and for him only. Zoro leaned down to kiss Y/N, as his thrusts got sloppier and sloppier. There was a twitching feeling he could feel within his veins. “I’m going to cum!”

“Fuck, me too babe-” as he slammed his hips right into his partners. Both harmonizing as they finish, skin meeting as the slickness of sweat and his seed mixed. Zoro couldn’t help but feel a little dizzy, as he nearly collapsed right on top of his girlfriend. His arms trying to wrap around his exhausted girl, pulling up the sheets below to cover their naked bodies. Y/N was still trembling from the high, but soon was steady in his arms. “Thanks…Y/N. I...love...you”

“Oi, Zoro!”

“Hm?” Zoro grumbled from bed, his head still a little groggy. The air smelled still sweaty, and stale. His head wasn’t ringing, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little exasperated. “What…” Getting up what the commotion was about. The sheets fluttered off, revealing his bare skin to the cold air. Zoro realized that he still wasn’t clothed, as he picked up his garments off the floor and put them on. Y/N walked in and looked away shyly, but tried to look at his figure.

“Your shorts are on inside out, first of all,” Y/N pointing straight to his legs. Fuck. Turning around and taking them off, just to readjust them and put them back on. “Also….thousand sunny is right behind this cabin….” Zoro’s eyes widened, nearly popping out of his skull.

“W…What now?” Nearly shoving his girlfriend away from the window, sure enough, the cabin overlooked the waters, showing the cute little lion face of the thousand sunny looking away from them. “Ah…well, at least that ero-cook will know that I am the one that can make you blush the most now.” A smirk beaming on his face. “What do you say? Round two? To prove my point of course” Y/N sighed and slapped his arm.

“You wish!” There was the girl he knew. “Last one on the ship has to help Sanji clean the dishes!” Zoro made a break to the door, just as Y/N was going to leave the cabin. This was the one time he was going to make Y/N lose just so he can potentially punish her again.

#one piece #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfics #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfictions #one piece smut #zoro fanfiction #zoro fanfic #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #reader x zoro #reader x zoro roronoa #zoro smut #roronoa zoro smut

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summermimosas · 10 months ago

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Itoshi Brothers: U20 Edition

Part 1 to this is here! I explain my basic idealogy for Rin here, so it might be better if you that one first.

The basic tldr is: Rin doesn't see himself as an individual at all, and he doesn't seem to realise it. It's why Sae is pissed and as rude as he is, and it's why Rin feels like he's restricted.

He can be as annoyed about the "Itoshi Sae's little brother" label as he wants, but he hasn't realised he fosters it unconsciously.

Once again, this part is very very nicely covered in @/riririnnnn's post. Please go read their theories linked in Part 1 too!! And the source of this creative bug was @/boinin's work for Rin's Aura-also linked in Part 1.

This is when the realisation finally happens. He realises that he's being shadowed by Isagi constantly, watched, judged, all on the basis of what people expect of him. Of what he's imposed on himself.

And then there's this infamous panel.

No, he's not alone. And it's entirely the reason he feels as restricted as he is. Not because he's not alone- but because the second he feels like he isn't, he starts adapting those labels into himself. He needs to be Itoshi Rin if he wants to develop an ego of his own.

Everyone clap really loudly, okay- really really loudly. This man spends his entire life studying and emulating Sae and it takes him an entire year to realise that he's been doing it and see the problem in it.

Dumbass. Why am I analysing him again?

And this is what triggers his flow state. One of the craziest ones we've seen- why? Not as a flow state separately, no, but because this is what Rin is at this point in time. He may evolve, become a different person at whatever time, but at this point he's keen on finding a sense of self that isn't in relation to anyone else. Note how after the flow state- and the brutal comment Sae makes- he goes right back to "Crushing Sae Itoshi, but destroy Isagi Yoichi first". But now he's still in flow- a true, completely disconnected version of himself that is only influenced by his own thought process.

And Sae, of course, knows. I mean- it makes sense right? He's the only one who's seen Rin before he started playing football, before he became Itoshi Sae's little brother. When he really was just, Itoshi Rin.

At this point, however, he's still focusing on completely destroying expectations. An antithesis of everything he used to be called, everything he used to be. So his aura shifts to directly contradicting Sae's- it is still not his own.

This is why the unusual water theme comes in so late. It is Rin's, of course it is, but until the NEL/end of U20 he never knew of himself.

I will be skipping over the absolute trainwreck that is the ending of U20- you get it. Sae acknowledges Isagi, affirms just about every single one of Rin's insecurities, and this time repeat cycle. Destroy the target of Sae's attention, Isagi himself.

You know what the most interesting part of this all is? AFTER ALL THIS. He's learned so much, he's grown so much. Don't get me wrong, this younger sibling is learning to be his own person.

But. Then you see him in the current NEL Arc.

This fucking idiot- I mean. Ahem.

He's still thinking in terms of other people. Of course, now he's learned to separate himself from the equation, thankfully. But he's still not playing for himself. He's not "Itoshi Sae's little brother" anymore, he's the one who will "surpass Itoshi Sae and destroy Isagi".

Nagi asks the very good question of, what comes after that? Rin is no longer someone's shadow, but still thinks in terms of surpassing them, much like Nagi used to think before the Manshine vs BM Match. And this absolute nutcase. Replies.

You know, he's a stupid guy, but atleast he's honest about his thoughts. Makes it easier for me to analyse him, unlike his emotionally constipated brother.

He's describing it as a baby just born- fitting, because he's trying to find his footing after being label after label in someone else's story. Not that he was doing it intentionally, but it had become subconscious. He hasn't thought about the future, at all, because he can barely understand what he's doing now.

"Number 1? I don't care about that. What I care about is destroying you, Isagi." Well, I've rambled long enough. You get my point now. He's learning!! Like a baby bird learning to fly, very slowly. Hence the newly present water aura. This will become so much more interesting when we learn what happened to Sae in Spain, and if Rin finds out? Well. Maybe we can finally get the resolution I need them to have.

Because, god forbid they have another miscommunication. I will actually lose my mind.

But also, I'm someone who understands Rin on a really deep level because I've had similar experiences with mirroring an older sibling because I had nobody else to turn to for a role model or admire. And I tend to think of myself in terms of other people, too. So this analysis was something that came really naturally to me. I hope it was worth your time.

#blue lock #itoshi rin #itoshi sae #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #what else do i even tag wtf #please teach me how tags work #bllk #i hate them but i am also very intrigued by them #absolute idiots #txt: lune

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gaintsnowflake · 1 year ago

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𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

PARING - anthony lockwood x gn!reader

ONESHOT - in which you stay up waiting for lucy and lockwood to get back from a job only to find them soaked and mad at each other.

TRIGGERS - mentions of death

A/N - angst and fluff | please mind any typos or grammar errors, i am my own editor and I may not be able be able to get everything | I really don’t know how I feel about this one, i hate it but i also like it, Lockwood may be a bit OOC, so I do apologize

WORD COUNT - 3.0k

masterlist

I WAITED for them to stumble through the door, regretting my life choices.

George and I were forced to stay home since George got caught pulling two all-nighters in a row for research and I was still on lockdown from a recent injury. The worst thing about it was, they were going against a type two, alone, in the middle of nowhere. I should be there with them, at least I would be able to provide some help. It would be much better than sitting here at three am awaiting their return.

Finally, I heard the door open, followed by a slam and another reopen. Within a few seconds, I hear Lockwood yelling after Lucy. Quickly, I run from my seat in the kitchen to the main hall, trying to see what all of the ruckus was, just when I went to look at them I was met with two soaked teenagers screaming at each other. Well, Lucy screaming at Lockwood. I paused for a quick second before all my body filled with rage, the idiot fucked up again, I know it.

"Anthony, what the fuck did you do?" I yelled, drawing their attention toward me.

Lucy just looked at me, her mascara running and her eyes watering before she gave me a slight smile. Lockwood on the other hand gave me his best guilty smile knowing that I would not spare him.

"He decided to push us into a quite disgusting lake trying to get away from our dear friend Mr. Sanders, isn't that right Lockwood," Lucy's voice was laced with anger as she turned between the two of us. "Not only did I have it handled, he made me lose the source I was trying to cover, only delaying the whole thing more. Also, the lake contains really big fish that we don't even know what they were. We could have gotten eaten."

"It was smarter than you getting ghost touched, you wouldn't have been able to cover it in time, I was trying to save you, Luce. Besides we weren't eaten."

They looked towards me as I stepped towards Lucy. I endearingly rubbed her shoulder to let her know that I was there for her and turned away from Anthony, our faces not far from one another.

"Go shower, Lucy," I spoke softly, "I will handle Lockwood and once you get I'll make sure he apologizes and I will make sure he makes your favorite teas, how does that sound?" I waited for her to nod, which took her a second, she was probably sending death glares to Lockwood. Once she did I moved my hand and turned back to Anthony. "How about we go talk in the library, yeah? Wouldn't want to wake up George."

He responded with a quick nod before moving towards the library, Lucy stood still for a second. I slowly start to follow before I felt Lucy grab my arm, forcing me to turn toward her.

"I know you like to go easy on him, but give him hell for me, please? He deserves it this time."

I smiled and nodded before turning around to go do what I do best, solve the fights and make sure everyone is happy.

I turned towards her and gave her a big smile before continuing to meet Lockwood in the library. I closed the door to see him sitting in his chair, face in his hands, shaking his head. I could see the guilt through him.

"Do you wanna tell me what happened and then I lecture you or do you wanna split up the lecture tonight?" I asked quietly, walking towards him; Pausing in front of him, I ruffled his already messy hair and took one of his hands.

"Can we split up the lecture, please?" His voice was shaky, he felt guilty. He looked me in the eyes briefly, just slow enough I can see that they were tear lined, before turning away.

"You know what you did was stupid. You aren't fighting me on anything. I want you to know why it is stupid though," I started, sitting down across from him, keeping his hand in mine, I slowly played with his fingers, spinning the ring over and over. "You could have gotten yourself or Lucy more hurt. You don't know what was in that lake Anthony, and I know sometimes it's hard to believe but the living can be scarier than the dead, whether it was a fish or not. It could have injured you- don't even try to argue yet, let me finish. I know that there is probably a reason for your thinking but whatever it is doesn't mean you should disregard the fact that you could have gotten more hurt. Especially if what Lucy said was true about her nearly having the source.

"I know that you care about us, but I want you to think for a second, how would you feel if Lucy never was able to walk through that door again because you made the mistake of making her swim with the fishes, metaphorically and literary. You wouldn't have lost just her, but you would have hurt George and me in unbearable ways. Why? Because you didn't think? You rushed into it like you always do. I know that sounds selfish, but you know that everything you do is to save us three. To keep us safe. Now think about it again, you were able to save Lucy but not you? What if you died? I know that you think that isn't the worst option in the world, but it is truly terrible. Those thoughts aren't true and never will be true. We would have to live, hoping that maybe you just would walk through that door one more time with that stupid little grin you do after you get us a job that is way too difficult. We love you, Lockwood, and I love you Anthony, they don't want to lose you, or Lucy. Just how you wouldn't want to lose them. I can't lose you, you are my everything, Anthony, my everything."

His eyes met mine, finally, but a few of those tears escaped. I quickly slid from my seat and kneeled on the ground, I used my free hand to whip away the tears and caress his cheek and muttered a few soft, "I'm sorry." I know it hurts him for me to see him like this, so open and vulnerable, but at the same time, he knows I would never judge him for it and that I would always be there.

"You need to start thinking more. Not just move first, questions later. You need to think, even if it was for just a second. Sometimes that may not be the best option, but in some situations it is. But before I decide if this was one of these situations, can you tell me everything that happened?" I finally asked, giving him the ability to talk openly.

He waited for a moment, causing me to fear that maybe I was a little too hard on him. Nonetheless, he started talking, slowly making sure he didn't miss a single detail.

"The job wasn't difficult at first, just the average haunting. The mansion was large but we had been able to figure out that he died on the steps into the backyard, thanks to my amazing sight. We had heard that he was haunting some of the inside but also the backyard. Just as we were trying to figure out where his source may be, it was this fishing rod thing. He was huge into catching fish. The thing was there were about twenty of them. Fifteen inside, right beside the door, and the rest outside. After we had the ones inside covered, we stayed for a bit to make sure we had the right ones. We kind of assumed we did given that they were his expensive ones. But eventually, he turned up and boy was he mad. Lucy took the silver net and ran with it outside to make sure that she covered them and after I hit him with enough salt bombs I followed her. All of a sudden, while we were on his deck he came up behind us and I was out of salt bombs, Lucy was nearly done covering the source but I thought we wouldn't have enough time so I ran into her, pushing us both off the dock and into the lake."

After he finished he looked at me with a blank stare, his eyes widening, immediately realizing what he forgot to do, try using his rapier. This was surprising given that he nearly always remembers to use it and uses it when even not needed.

"There it is, the reason why Lucy is mad. You didn't fucking use your rapier."

"Maybe you are right, maybe I didn't have to push us in. Oh god, I am such an idiot. I have to go apologize," He scrambled to apologize, running past me as I rose to stop him.

"Lockwood," I called after him, trying to make him realize that she was still showering. "She is still in the shower!"

Before I could reach him, I realized the water wasn't running. I looked to see that Lucy was just staring confused at Lockwood who was frantically telling her that it was his fault and he sees that now, promising to be less reckless in the future. He was also giving her his best, "Please don't leave me because I just cried about this" smile.

"It's okay Lockwood, I realized I was overreacting a bit. You were just trying to protect us. Which wasn't the smartest of ways, but you still saved my life at the end of the day. Now can we please just admit that we aren't mad at each other so we can go to bed?" She cut him off mid-apology, her voice getting more and more quiet till she yawned at the end. "

Yeah, yeah, I am not mad at you. Goodnight, Luce," He then turned towards me, "Thank you as always, I am going to shower and then head to bed, meet me in there."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna talk to Lucy for a bit in the kitchen so if I am not in bed you know where to find me," I said as he gave me a quick peck on the cheek before walking away. Turning to Lucy I smiled, "How about we go talk for a few minutes and then you can head off to bed?"

"Okay," she muttered with a smile before heading to the Kitchen.

As we reached the kitchen, Lucy went to go sit in her chair as I reached up in the cabinets to grab four hidden donuts from Arifs. The others don't know but I also keep hidden ones for my private conversations with them after long cases or me scolding them to no ends. Georges and my first were missing as we had a long conversation as soon as the other two left about his sleeping habits, I kept it short but I still managed to get in everything I wanted to say over donuts and some tea.

I put her favorite donut lightly on the plate and mine on another before smiling and turning toward her. I closed the box and left it on the counter to make sure it seemed like it was empty and I would just throw it away after, that way she didn't go to check that spot and figure out my secret, given that as of now, she thinks that I run out and get them when I think they will be needed and not that I always have them, just in case.

"Want me to put on some tea?" I placed the plate down in front of her as I questioned, she shook her head no, allowing me to sit down across from her. "Are you not mad at him or did you just say that?"

"I am not mad at him, I know he was just trying to protect us, but there were just so many ways he could have, I don't know, just he didn't have to leave us soaking in the middle of the night."

"I get it and don't worry I lectured him on that," I paused as she took a bite of her donut, taking a bite out of mine as well, "He is sorry, truly, so I am glad that you can forgive him."

We sat there for a little, finishing our donuts in silence, once she was done she had gotten up to go put her dish away but before she got the chance I told her I had it. I quickly stood up and took our plates and went to go wash them off. I smiled at her and bid her goodnight as she said it back.

I was now alone, I had time to breathe, Anthony shouldn't be out of the shower for a few more minutes so I can just breathe.

I began to wash the plates off lightly with water and a tad bit of soap before drying them off only to fill them with more donuts, this time it was Anthony's favorite and my favorite. I put them down in front of our normal seats, his at the head of the table and mine the next closest chair, brought as close to the age as it could.

I smiled and sat down, staring at the wall. Tonight was something and it may take me a few hours to recover from all the worry, but they are safe now at home. Everyone is safe inside of 35 Portland Row and my worries can subside for a bit.

"I should've checked here first," a voice whispered, his voice.

I turned to see him in a plain white T-shirt, quite similar to the stolen one I am wearing now, and some sweats. His wet hair is laying across his forehead and little drops of water were all across his body.

He gave me his world-famous grin before I motioned for him to sit, which he did very quickly. Once he was sitting he started eating the donut, no shock, as he refused to eat before the job, against my wishes, stating he wasn't hungry. With his other hand, he rubbed my knee up to my thigh trying to find my loose hand. When he eventually laced our fingers together and started rubbing mine in a comforting way. He could tell I was stressed and worried, always seeing right through me.

"You know, you should become a therapist or something," he started a light friendly conversation, "since you always act like ours, why not do it for others and get paid."

"I can't know, I can't continue my education, I choose to be an agent, so that is what I am now," my smile faltered for a second as I wondered if I made the right choice all those years ago when I decided to become an agent.

"Well, then maybe you will just be the agency's therapist then, I mean, you already are, but that could be like your official role other than agent," He offered, in an attempt to raise my bad mood.

"Yeah, that sounds good, I guess," I truly did make the right choice. Because if I didn't I wouldn't be sitting here with Anthony Lockwood, eating donuts at now four in the morning about to head to bed.

We finished our donuts with a few words exchanged. I stood up and collected our plates, I wasn't going to fully wash them, I would do that in the morning, well afternoon, when I woke up. So for now the plates will sit in our kitchen sink waiting to be washed.

Before I turned around I heard light scribbles coming from Anthony. I looked and rested my elbows on his chair standing above him as he wrote a short note to George explaining that they got home late so everyone won't wake up till afternoon.

I smiled at him once again before taking his arm and dragging him from his chair. He followed me up to his room, slowly behind me as we were both exhausted and were probably going to fall asleep as soon as we reach the bed.

I opened the door to the dark room, not even wanting to turn on a light. I let go of Anthony's arm and navigated the familiar room, and crawled into bed. He slowly got in right after me.

He laid flat on his back and put up his arms, wanting me to lay on top of him. I happily obliged. My head rested on his shoulder titled to the side as he rested his head on mine lightly. One arm fell off him and the other wrapped around and began playing with his hair. One leg was in between his and the other was laying flat on the bed. His arms were tightly wrapped around me.

He slowly kissed my head before beginning to talk, slurring his words. His voice got quieter and quieter within minutes as his breath got slower. Eventually, he just stopped talking. The word felt as if it had stopped in this peaceful moment. I know I made the right choice when I choose to become an agent, he was the best thing to come out of this. As we lay here together, finding peace in one another.

His breath lingered on my ear as I lay across his body, the smell of his body wash and shampoo filled my nose. A smile played on my lips as I played with his wet hair, twirling a few strands over and over. His arms were wrapped around me, lighter than before as by now he has completely fallen asleep. His worries drifted away as his breaths became slower and slower. My worries were now gone as he was FINALLY HOME.

#lockwood and co fanfiction #fanfic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lockwood oneshot #anthony lockwood x reader

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