#and eventually you find your way to the reason you exist

[im-so-normal-iswear]

HELLO!

May I request a Yandere Sonic, Shadow and Silver (seperate) with a fem reader where comes from a different reality where they are fictional and somehow the hedgehogs became attached and obsessed with reader, reader is very much aware of their behavior and is also one of the reasons why she wants to go home to her own reality fast.

Sending loves to youu!!🫶🏻🤍

A/n: poll on, so now I'm putting images, I couldn't find any good ones

Yandere triple s x reader

Sonic:

At first, you couldnct believe it, you were in Sonics world.

The rolling green hills, the endless loops, the vibrant colors of the world, it was surreal. And meeting Sonic? That was the best part.

He was exactly like you imagined. Charismatic, funny, energetic. You geeked out about meeting him, and he was amused by how much you already knew about him. Sonic took an immediate liking to you, eager to show you around and let you experience the world firsthand.

The first few days were a dream come true. Running through Green Hill Zone, meeting Tails, going toe-to-toe with Eggman (it was actually more like watching Sonic handle it while you stood on the sidelines). Everything felt like a perfect adventure, straight out of a game.

Then, things started getting... off.

It began subtly. Sonic insisted on staying close to you all the time. You figured it was just him being protective. After all, you were just a human, and this world was full of dangers. But the more time passed, the more suffocating it became.

He started pulling you away from the others, cutting conversations short when you were with Tails or Amy. At first, he made excuses, "Hey, let’s get outta here! I've got something way cooler to show ya!" but you quickly realized he was isolating you.you started getting weird dreams.

You dreamed of your real home, your reality, the place you desperately wanted to return to. But every time you woke up, Sonic was already there, sitting beside you with an unreadable expression.

"Another bad dream?" he asked, his voice casual.

When you admitted what it was about, his expression darkened.

"You really wanna go back, huh?" He leaned closer, his smile strained. "I don't get it. You've got me here. What's better than that?"

The moment you realized something was deeply wrong was when you tried asking Tails about ways to return home.

Sonic snapped.

One second, he was his usual self, the next, he had grabbed your wrist, his grip too tight.

"Why do you keep talking about that?" His voice wavered, his usual confident tone slipping into something more desperate. "Aren't you happy here? With me?"

You tried to reason with him, but his grip only tightened. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, had a wildness to them.

"You belong here now" he murmured, more to himself than to you.

From then on, he never left your side. Your freedom was a distant memory. Anytime you tried sneaking off to talk to Tails, Sonic was there. If you attempted to run, he caught you within seconds, always smiling, always acting like it was a game.

"Aw, c'mon, Y/N, you know you can't outrun me."

Every time you tried to bring up leaving, his mood shifted. His smiles became forced, his voice strained.

"Look." he eventually said one night, his voice eerily soft as he trapped you in his arms. "I don't care what reality you came from. This is where you stay."

No matter how fast you tried to run, Sonic would always be faster.

And he wasn't letting you go.

Shadow:

Unlike Sonic, Shadow wasn't immediately friendly.

He kept his distance when you first arrived in the world, observing you with narrowed, calculating eyes. He didn't trust you, not at first. You were an anomaly, something that shouldn't exist in his reality.

But as time passed, Shadow became curious about you. How did you know so much about him? Why did you seem so comfortable around him when most people feared him?

You intrigued him.

Slowly, he started spending more time around you. He was never openly affectionate, but he showed his care in small ways, keeping you close when woth others, ensuring you never strayed too far, glaring at anyone who got too friendly with you.

And then, one day, you mentioned wanting to go home.

Shadow froze.

"You want to leave?" His voice was cold, unreadable.

You explained everything, the fact that he and his world were fictional in your reality, that you had a life to return to. You expected him to be logical about it.

Instead, his expression darkened.

"No."

You turned back to him. "...No?"

Shadow stepped closer, his eyes burning into yours.

"You belong here. With me."

It wasn't a request. It was a statement.

That was when your nightmare truly began.

Shadow started following you everywhere, wether you were aware or not. Always watching, always near. If you ever tried to leave his sight, he'd appear within seconds, his expression always unreadable.

He sabotaged any attempt you made to leave. If you tried to seek help from Tails or Eggman, their machines mysteriously malfunctioned. If you ran, Shadow found you instantly, his Chaos Control ensuring you never got far.

He never hurt you, but his presence was suffocating. Every conversation ended the same way.

"You can't leave."

There was no reasoning with him.

Shadow wasn't keeping you here out of malice.

He was keeping you here because, to him, you were the only thing left worth protecting.

Even if it meant stealing your freedom.

Silver:

Silver was the sweetest at first.

He was kind, gentle, and eager to help you. When you arrived in his world, he was fascinated, your knowledge, your personality, your very existence intrigued him.

And for a while, everything was perfect.

Silver went out of his way to make you comfortable, ensuring you had everything you needed. He was protective, but not overbearing, at least, not at first.

But then, you mentioned going home.

Silver's expression fell, his ears flattening. "What...? You want to leave?"

You tried to explain, but his hands trembled as he grasped your shoulders.

"You can't leave." His voice wavered, his usual optimism crumbling. "I need you here."

From that moment on, Silver changed.

He became more desperate, always clinging to you one way or another, never being more than three feet from you.

Whenever you tried to argue, he just shook his head, pleading. "Please don't talk like that. I love you, Y/N."

He would do anything to keep you.

And if that meant trapping you in his world forever...

Then so be it.

[hungermakesmonsters]

(It Is) What It Is

Chapter One

Plot Summary : When Billy Russo realises that there is a certain class of wealthy clients who refuse to contract with Anvil because of his playboy reputation, he decides to alter their perception of him. You’re just a down on your luck PA, just trying to get by so when Billy offers to pay you to pretend to date him, you can’t refuse. But the last thing you expect is for Billy to pull you into his secret world of lust and debauchery.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing noteworthy on this chapter. There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.7k

A/N : I'm so excited to finally be able to share this one! Hope you all enjoy it!

Master List

Chapter One

Just smile and, eventually, you’ll find your reason to smile.

It was something your mother had always told you as a child, sadness filling her eyes every time a frown dared to cross your little face. You grew up believing it was a sage piece of wisdom, but the older you got, the more it started to seem like nothing more than an unhealthy coping mechanism.

But, still, you smiled.

If nothing else, you’d come to learn that it was easier to force a smile to your lips and pretend that the whole world didn’t feel like it was going to hell around you. Especially between the hours of 8am and 5pm.

Every morning was the same; you got up, got ready, and took the subway to work. You went out of your way to be a polite and conscientious commuter, taking up as little space as possible and making sure no one but you could hear the music playing through your headphones. Sure, your polite behaviour did nothing to stop you being shoved and elbowed, nor did your example to be quiet convince any of the finance-bros to stop yelling into their phones right beside you, but at least it made you feel like you weren’t an asshole.

Even on the street, on your two block walk to the office, you were mindful; never walking too fast or cutting in front of anyone, and never slowing down and inconveniencing anyone walking behind you. 

For all intents and purposes, you were just there. You existed but you were never an obstacle or cause for annoyance. A side-character, an NPC in someone else’s story, no delusions in your mind about being the main character.

God, what a sad and boring story it would be if you were the main character.

As per your usual morning routine, you stopped off at the little independent coffee shop across the street from Anvil. The Bean Grinder - a name that had earned some ridicule from your boss when you’d admitted to going there. (‘The Bean Grinder? It sounds more like a dating app’ he’d said, grinning that ridiculous grin.) But, after a few mornings of steaming hot Americanos and fresh pastries, he’d grudgingly had to admit that he was a fan.

So, it had become the norm every weekday, first thing in the morning and, again at lunch times, if you didn’t have time to pack a lunch for yourself. And, now, six months into your job with Anvil, the baristas knew you well enough to have your order ready to go - though, today, you had to inconvenience them by asking for an extra coffee.

Coffees and pastries precariously balanced in your hands, you crossed the street, shuddering at the ice cold wind and moving as fast as you dared towards the office. Once in the foyer, you began to awkwardly fumble for your keycard, when a hand appeared, relieving you of the tray of coffees.

“Thanks Carl,” you said as you rummaged through your pockets. “How are the kids?  Did Lyra’s clarinet recital go well?”

The security guard beamed, his face lighting with a genuine warmth for you. You’d  always tried to make an effort with the people you worked with, never knowing when you might need a favour - even if that favour was just someone to hold a tray of drinks while you found your keycard.

“She did amazing. I recorded the whole thing, I’ll have to show you when you’ve got a minute.”

Smiling, you told him how much you’d like that as you finally pulled out your keycard and tapped it against the reader. You stepped through the barrier and thanked Carl as he handed you the tray of drinks, and headed for the elevator.

As you stepped onto the lift, you took a breath and let your smile falter, enjoying the briefest moment of respite before  you’d have to spend the rest of the day forcing your happy, professional demeanour. 

And, as it turned out, your brief reprieve was even briefer than expected as a hand stopped the elevator doors from sliding shut and a man stepped on.

“Good morning, Mr Castle,” you said, bright and perky as always. Exactly what was expected of you.

He bristled slightly and looked about ready to remind you that he’d prefer to be called Frank but seemed to think better of it. After six months, you assumed that he’d finally started to understand that you were more comfortable referring to him as Mr Castle.

“Mornin’,” he grumbled in his usual, gruff tone.

The elevator doors slid shut and, for a few seconds, you were left thinking that the entire ride to the top floor would be spent in silence, but then you remembered the coffees in your hand.

“Oh, that one’s for you,” you said, indicating the large takeout cup at the front of the tray. “Large Americano with an extra shot, cream, but no sugar, right?”

He looked at you with a mixture of shock and confusion that had you wondering if you’d sprouted a second head for a few seconds. Unlike Mr Russo, he didn’t have a PA and he barely even bothered the secretary who was assigned to him, so he always seemed a little taken aback whenever you did anything for him.

“You got me a coffee?” He asked, taking the coffee from you and lifting it to his nose to sniff.

“I know you and Mr Russo have a meeting scheduled first thing,” you said, shrugging, “and he won’t want to start until he’s had his morning coffee and pastry, so...”

That got a laugh from him, a rare sound that always seemed like it had sharp edges, but a laugh nonetheless, so you decided to mark it down as a win.

“Yeah, he’s never been much of a morning person.”

That was something you could agree with. Billy Russo was a man of moods and, while it had initially taken you some time to learn his routines and figure out when he tended to be more approachable, you’d learned your way around him now.

That was something you could agree with, but you’d quickly learned your way around the man and his moods, knowing what times and which days he was more approachable, and doing your best to keep your head down the rest of the time. It wasn’t difficult, even if Billy Russo was considered difficult by a lot of people who knew him.

“He have you fetchin’ coffee for him every day?” Mr Castle asked, though you couldn’t tell if he was just trying to make conversation or if he was genuinely curious. 

You offered up another shrug. “It’s part of the job. Besides, I stop off for coffee on my way in anyway, at least this way I get to put it on the corporate card.”

Fortunately, the stilted conversation was short lived and the elevator doors slid open. You gave him a look before glancing towards Mr Russo’s office door.

“I’ll go check if he’s ready for you,” you said, pausing only to put your bag down and to shrug out of your coat at your desk.

You took a second to smooth down your blouse and skirt, and to make sure your hair wasn’t in too much of a state from the wind, before grabbing his coffee and the bag of pastries. Your knock on his door was met with the usual grumbled ‘come in’ and, as you stepped into his office, you forced the smile back to his lips. 

Not that he saw your smile.

His back was to you, his eyes fixed out of the window, looking at the city - or maybe it was the weather that had his attention. You didn’t ask, figuring that it was really none of your business.

“Good morning, Mr Russo,” you said, heading towards his desk. “I’ve got your morning coffee and a couple of bear claws, and Mr Castle is waiting outside for your morning meeting.”

“Thank you,” he said, lingering at the window a moment longer before finally turning towards you. “Can you send Frank in and grab the files I asked you to prepare yesterday?”

“Of course, sir.”

You did as you were asked, sending Mr Castle in while you got the files from your desk. By the time you made it back into Mr Russo’s office, both men were perched on his desk, drinking their coffees and eating bear claws.

“However much he’s payin’ you, it’s not enough,” Mr Castle grinned at you, and that had the forced smile on your lips becoming something far more genuine.

It wasn’t so much that Mr Russo didn’t appreciate what you did for him - you knew that he did - it was more that he wasn’t particularly vocal about it. But you’d heard the horror stories of the PAs who’d come before you, the ones who’d quit mere weeks into working for him. At first you’d feared that it was him, that he was impossible to work for, but you’d quickly figured out that he wasn’t impossible, just... difficult. 

There was a lot of reading between the lines when it came to Billy Russo, and a lot of your time was spent trying to anticipate what he might want or need at any given time; when he was in a bad mood you’d found that food often helped, and frustration was usually mitigated by redirecting him towards smaller, easier to deal with tasks to distract him.

It wasn’t easy but you’d figured him out and, now, things ran pretty smoothly.

“Here you go,” you said, placing the files on his desk beside him. “I took the liberty of colour coding them; the green tabs are the ones most likely to want to engage Anvil’s services based on the research, orange means they could be convinced, and -”

“And what about red?” Mr Russo asked, pulling a file from the bottom of the stack.

The only file with a red tab.

“Red means it’s extremely unlikely that they would choose to offer Anvil a contract and that they’re probably not worth the money and resources that it might take to change their mind,” you explained, trying to sound as clinical as possible.

“And why do you think the Van Der Koy family wouldn’t be interested in contracting with Anvil?” He asked.

Immediately your cheeks started to heat as you tried to find the easiest (read: safest) way to explain it.

The Van Der Koy’s were old money, with dozens of high end resorts, hotels and casinos across North America. They were a literal goldmine for anyone who got to work with them. Landing a security contract with them would be worth millions of dollars, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that that was the file that Mr Russo wanted to concentrate on.

But how were you supposed to tell him that he was the reason the Van Der Koy’s would never work with Anvil?

“Well, the Van Der Koy’s have very old fashioned family values - it’s not about the money, it’s all about appearances and reputation...” you said.

“And what’s wrong with Anvil’s reputation?” Mr Russo prompted.

“It’s not Anvil...” you tried to explain, your voice turning quiet.

“Then what?” He asked, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone.

“Jesus, Bill,” Frank said through a mouthful of pastry. “She’s tryin’ to be polite.”

There was a silence for a few moments before Mr Russo finally seemed to realise what was being said.

“You’re saying that they won’t contract with Anvil because of my reputation?” He asked, and you gave the smallest of nods. “What’s wrong with my reputation?”

“Sir, I really don’t think -”

“You can’t expect her to answer that,” Frank said, speaking at the same time as you.

He looked from you to Mr Castle and back again, as if he really had no clue what you could possibly mean.

“I won’t get angry or blame you,” Mr Russo said. “I just want to know what you know.”

You didn’t want to answer, but you knew that you had to.

“Well, from what I was able to learn, it’s... it’s everything,” you said, unable to even look him in the eye as you explained. “The parties, the women - it sends a certain, uh... message...”

It felt like his gaze was burning into you as you fixed your eyes on his desk and the stack of files.

“What message?” He asked.

“She’s sayin’ the uptight, old money folks don’t like that you’re a fuck-boy who spends all his time with bimbos, Bill,” Mr Castle answered for you. “Now, could you stop makin’ her feel uncomfortable about it and let her do her damned job?”

Mr Russo’s gaze softened a fraction when he noticed your obvious discomfort, and he opted to remain silent instead of continuing with all of the questions you were certain he still had. Some part of you even dared to feel bad, almost wanting to tell him that it was okay, that he could continue to question you but that you didn’t have any answers that he might want to hear.

The truth was, while you had your opinions about his social life, when it came to his work and to his company, Billy Russo was nothing short of a consummate professional, and it felt like a shame that anyone might discount his work because of how he liked to spend his free time.

“Thank you for your input,” Billy said, finally dismissing you. “I’d like my lunch at one today, and could you forward any updates to my schedule to me?”

You gave the standard ‘yes, Mr Russo. Of course, Mr Russo’  and quickly made your exit, holding in a sigh of relief until his office door was shut behind you and you were safely back at your desk.

You opened your laptop to start your day, immediately disappointed to find that your own coffee had started to go cold while you’d been in Mr Russo’s office. It wasn’t the first time, and you were certain it wouldn’t be the last, but you’d always just found something so depressing about a lukewarm latte first thing in the morning.

At least you were fairly certain that the detailed notes you’d made on each of the files would be enough to keep him from needing to solicit your opinion again, so you should be able to get through your daily mountain of emails and adjustments to his schedule before having to think about his lunch.

And that was the best part of your job; that you could lose yourself in it. It was nice, easy for the most part, now that you’d settled into a rhythm - the only difficult part of the job was the man himself. In the past, you’d struggled with office jobs, always wanting to be everything to everyone and ending up taking on far more than you could handle. 

Not that you were a pushover - no, you didn’t like to think of yourself in those exact terms - you just liked it when everyone around you was happy and content, because god only knew you had your own problems to deal with.

But, thankfully, things were different at Anvil. The management floor was Mr Russo’s private kingdom and, most days, it was just the two of you up there. And, on good days, it was just you. And, because of that, you were separate, able to work without interruption. Oh, sure, you still spoke to people, still got to know them, like Carl in security, but you were far enough removed that no one came to you asking for help or wanting to vent their issues.

In fact, being Mr Russo’s PA made a lot of people wary about asking you for anything because they knew just how important your time was.

All in all, the only thing you really had to contend with were Mr Russo’s moods and they didn’t stress you out nearly as much as they used to. You’d even go as far as saying that, for the first time in years, you were in a job that felt secure, safe. And that was something that mattered to you far more than you’d ever dare admit out loud.

After about an hour, Mr Castle left Mr Russo’s office but, instead of heading straight for the elevator, he approached your desk, causing you to automatically sit a little straighter.

“You okay?” He asked. “Know that probably wasn’t the most comfortable for you in there.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you quickly answered,” it’s all part of the job. I just -”

About to say something completely unadvised and unprofessional, you barely managed to stop yourself. But it was too late, he fixed you with a questioning look and it was clear he was trying to fight back a smile while he decided if you’d break under interrogation.

(And, yes, you absolutely would. There was no doubt in your mind that you’d crumple like a house of cards if you were placed under extreme questioning.)

“You what?” He prompted.

The only thing keeping you from panic was the fact that he didn’t sound angry or annoyed, just curious. He’d never heard you speak out of turn before and he seemed a little excited at the prospect.

Your cheeks started to heat and you bit your lip for a second.

“I just -” you glanced nervously towards the office door, making sure it was shut before continuing, “- well, I just always assumed that he knew how people saw him. Not that it’s my place, because I don’t -”

He cut off your attempt to - what? Apologise? Put a more professional spin on things?

“He does and he doesn’t,” he said, offering a shrug. “That’s the problem with Bill; he cares about appearances but he always forgets that sometimes he has a different idea of how a rich guy should be than people like the Van Der Koy’s.”

Cryptic.

Cryptic and entirely unhelpful.

Though it fit well with what you actually know about your boss. Sure, you could usually guess when he was in a bad mood and when he wanted to be left alone, but as a person he was as much of an enigma to you as anyone. Fortunately, knowing and understanding the inner workings of Billy Russo was not necessary for you to do your  job.

“‘s fine, don’t worry ‘bout it,” he continued, “either he’ll try to go for the VDK contract and end up wastin’ everyone’s time, or he’ll take your advice and focus on contracts he can actually get.”

You nodded, knowing it wasn’t really your place to voice an opinion on the matter. As Mr Castle said, you’d already done your part.

He gave you a nod before turning and starting towards the elevator, only to pause after a couple of steps and glance back.

“Those bear claws -”

“From The Bean Grinder across the street,” you answered the unasked question through the laugh that had managed to bubble up from seemingly nowhere.

“Thanks. Don’t let him work you too hard.”

Once he was gone, you returned to your work and spent the rest of the morning scheduling and rescheduling meetings for the coming month. Then it was time to order lunch and, because Mr Russo hadn’t stated a preference, it was up to you to decide for him. You weren’t sure of his mood since you hadn’t seen him since leaving his office hours before, so you decided to go for something safe, something he’d enjoy and that would improve his mood if he was still feeling sore about the Van Der Koy’s. 

Spaghetti carbonara and tiramisu for dessert. A tried and tested combination.

Less than twenty minutes later, you had his lunch in hand and were at his office door, knocking lightly and waiting to be called in.

He was at his desk, the files you’d prepared still in front of him, the VDK file with its prominent red tag right at the top of the pile.

“I’ve got your lunch,” you said brightly, quickly starting to unpack his lunch.

He watched you with a strange sort of curiosity he’d never shown you before, his lips pulling into a smile when he noticed the tiramisu.

“Trying to make up for something?” He asked.

Despite his playful tone and the way he was smiling at you, the question had a nervous sort of tension filling you. You shot him a questioning look but couldn’t quite form the words to respond.

“You always bring me dessert when you think I’m in a bad mood,” he continued.

There was no keeping the confused shock from your face, just like there was no taming the wild thumping of your heart. In all the time you’d been working for him, you’d never once stopped to consider that he knew exactly what you were doing.

“Did you think I didn’t notice?” He asked, sounding thoroughly amused.

You were speechless and, for reasons you didn’t entirely understand, all you could think about was how his spaghetti carbonara was starting to get cold. (And, from where you were standing it smelled far too delicious to waste.)

“I just -” you swallowed awkwardly, trying to get rid of the lump in your throat, “- well, it’s my job to make sure you’re happy isn’t it? Am - am I in trouble?”

Surely not. Surely he couldn’t punish you for going out of your way to try and make his life easier, right? Your forced happy facade almost dropped and gave way to the panic that was starting to claw beneath your ribs, but your face remained a hopefully unreadable mask.

“In trouble? God, no,” he shook his head. “I’m just - what I’m trying to say is that you’re clearly good at reading people. At reading me.”

“Oh.”

What else could you even say to any of that? Did he even want you to say anything? It wasn’t like you were doing anything manipulative or nefarious. All you were doing was keeping him happy so your job was easier.

You almost breathed a sigh of relief when his attention dropped to his food, and you started to hope you’d be able to go back to your desk to try and forget any of this weirdness had happened. But, as he lifted his fork, his eyes caught yours again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Mr Russo.”

“Do you agree with what Frank said earlier?” He asked before taking a bite of his spaghetti.”Do you think the women I date send the wrong sort of message?”

“Oh, uh -” 

The shocked little noises slipped out before you could stop yourself. All you could do was stare at him for a few seconds, wondering what you’d done in a past life to deserve the uncomfortable day that you were having.

“Hmm?” He prompted through a mouthful of pasta.

“I thought -” you forced a breath, “- I just assumed that you were going to ask me something... something more related to my actual job?”

Something about your obvious discomfort seemed to tickle him.

“I’d argue that if you have insight into why Anvil might potentially lose out on a massive contract that it would fall within the scope of your job,” he countered. When you didn’t answer straight away, he continued; “so should I take your silence to mean you agree with Frank?”

“No, that’s not -” you hesitated, trying to find the most professional way to answer, “- I don’t agree with everything he said.”

“No? Care to elaborate?”

“Well, I don’t think it’s fair to call a woman a bimbo just because she likes to wear expensive clothes and go to parties,” you said flatly. “And it’s really not my job to have opinions on how you spend your evenings.”

“But you do think it gives the wrong impression to people like the Van Der Koy’s?”

“The Van Der Koy’s built the VDK chain on traditional values, they avoid controversy and anything that will tarnish the VDK name, it’s what they’re known for. It’s their professional reputation,” you explained, forcing an awkward shrug. “And you’re - well, you’re not subtle. You make a scene wherever you go, whether you want to or not. Half the society gossip blogs have stopped asking who you’re dating and only concern themselves with who you’re fucking.”

You could feel your cheeks burning hotter with every word. You didn’t want to have to say any of it and, honestly, it was making you feel awful, but you were starting to realise that he really didn’t understand how he was perceived. But, of course, he didn’t - he was rich and attractive, and while many people might want to write him off because of it, there were just as many who accepted and wanted that side of him.

It just seemed that this was the first time he was hearing a no that he couldn’t throw money at or change with his smart mouth.

“So, you’re saying I should settle down and clean up my act if I want to convince them to take me seriously and offer Anvil their security contract?”

You let slip an exhausted sigh, feeling like he was only hearing half of what you were saying to him. “I’m saying that it’s probably a waste of time to even try at this point. The other files I -”

“Thank you for your input, it’s been very informative,” he interrupted, not caring about the other files or potential clients now that he had VDK in his sights. “And, thank you for my lunch - I really do appreciate everything that you do for me.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Quickly, you started towards the door, desperate to get out of there before he could ask your opinion on anything else. You held your breath all the way back to your desk, the burning in your lungs giving you the dreadful confirmation that all of that had really just happened and you weren’t having some bizarre, anxiety induced dream.

Fortunately, for the rest of the day, you were left alone. He had a couple of brief meetings in the afternoon that had him out of the office and, when he returned, he seemed too lost in thought to cause you any more awkwardness.

Bu, as you started to pull your coat on, getting ready to leave for the day, he all but burst out of his office like a man possessed. There was a nervous sort of energy about him that you hadn’t witnessed before, and it was more than enough to set you on edge.

“Oh, good, you’re still here,” he said. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Proposition? Your stomach automatically started to tie itself in knots at the word.

“What kind of proposition?” You asked cautiously, already sensing that nothing good was going to come from whatever he had to say.

“I want to take you out. On a date, just -”

“What? No - no, that’s not -” the words started to clumsily fall from your lips.

A weird panic quickly took hold of you and you couldn’t rightly say why. What had inspired it? What had suddenly changed? 

You didn’t want to be one of the women he dated, you didn’t want to be on his arm one minute and then kicked to the curb the next. What had you done to make him believe that you were worth that sort of treatment?

Not to mention the fact that it was entirely unprofessional and it would make it impossible for you to keep your job. A job that you happened to like.

“No-no-no, not like that,” he said quickly, almost sounding as panicked as you felt (and that didn’t exactly help you feel better). “Not like - I don’t mean for real.”

Oh.

Suddenly, your reaction seemed very silly and your panic was quickly replaced by confusion and an odd sense of numbness.

Of course Billy Russo didn’t want to take you - plain, boring you - on a real date.

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and shame at how easily you’d let yourself believe something so utterly ridiculous.

“Then -” you struggled to find your voice again, “- what are you suggesting?”

“To get the VDK contract I need to make the Van Der Koy’s see me differently -”

It was like being dropped into ice cold water. Though you doubted he was actively trying to insult you, you were insulted nonetheless. He wanted to use you to rehabilitate his image because, unlike the other women in his life, you wouldn’t turn heads or cause drama. You were just you, plain and safe, average and inoffensive. 

Inconsequential.

“You mean you want to lie to them? Pretend that you’ve settled down?” You asked (emphasis on the word settled) and shook your head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable with that.”

“I’ll pay you,” he added, almost managing to sound desperate. “Five hundred thousand for six months if Anvil gets the contract.”

Your jaw almost dropped and your heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

It was a lot of money, money that you really needed. It was almost enough to make you agree. Almost.

“Okay, just - let’s go back a couple of steps,” you said, still not sure what you felt about any of it. “You want to pay me to pretend to date you for six months just so you can win a contract?”

“Well, yeah, but it sounds sleazy when you say it like that.”

“Is there a way to explain it that doesn’t sound sleazy?”

Billy paused for a moment, clearly thinking about it. “You’re my PA, just think of it as assisting me out of office hours for overtime pay?”

That did make it sound better - not by much, and not enough to soothe your bruised ego.

“So, what? We’d pretend to date and if Anvil gets the contract we just break-up and go back to normal?” You asked, as you struggled in vain to wrap your head around the absurd idea.

“I’ll admit, there are a few things I’ve not entirely thought out, but if you -”

“No,” you said suddenly, coming to your decision. “I’m sorry Mr Russo, I can’t do that. I really don’t want to have to lie to that many people.”

He looked ready to argue, to try and convince you but that look quickly faded and he shrugged.

“You’re probably right,” he conceded. “It probably wouldn’t be enough anyway.”

Again, ouch.

“Right, well, if that’s all...” you trailed off, glancing longingly towards the elevator.

“Of course, sorry for keeping you.”

He didn’t wait for a response before disappearing into his office, closing the door behind him, and you didn’t waste any time heading to the elevator and getting out of the building as quickly as possible.

The next hour passed in something of a daze, stopping off to grab some groceries on the way home and having to listen to more loud and obnoxious finance-bros on the subway before you finally made it back to your apartment building.

Given the sort of day you were having, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that your mailbox was full of bills, but there was one in particular that caused your stomach to drop; a notice from Saint Martin’s Care Facility, informing you that their prices were going up. 

It was enough to have you reaching for a bottle of wine and pouring yourself a very large glass as you sat down and went over your finances, trying to find a way to afford your brother's care that didn’t involve having to leave your apartment for somewhere cheaper or move him to another care facility. It was the same thing year after year but, this year, the price hike seemed particularly egregious.

You spend hours going over bills, wondering if cancelling Netflix or downgrading your phone contract would help. But, of course, it wouldn’t.

Your brother’s care had been your responsibility since you turned eighteen and, little by little, you’d managed to scrape together enough to give him the life that he deserved in a place you knew that he would be well cared for. You wouldn’t let anything change that.

After your third glass of wine, you started to allow yourself to think about Mr Russo’s offer, wondering if it would really be so terrible - and, if it was terrible, would you be able to endure it long enough to get paid?

Could you really afford to turn him down when there was so much at stake?

The next day, you woke with a headache, but also with a resolute idea of what you needed to do (because it definitely was a need and not a want). Your day started the same as it always did; an uncomfortable subway ride, a stop off at The Bean Grinder, then up to Mr Russo’s office.

He was already sitting at his desk, the VDK file still on top of the stack. He barely even looked at you and you weren’t sure if it was because he was busy with something or because he felt the same level of awkwardness about yesterday as you did.

Placing his coffee down, you lingered, trying to find the words while your cheeks started to warm.

Finally, he seemed to notice you just standing there and turned his attention to you, frowning.

“Is there something you need?” He asked.

“I - I’ve reconsidered your offer,” you said, hating yourself for letting it come to this.

“Oh?”

You could tell that he wanted some sort of reason or explanation for your sudden change of heart, but you weren’t prepared to give it; your brother was none of his business. So, you simply nodded, telling him all he needed to know - that he didn’t need to know anything at all.

“That is, if the offer’s still on the table?” You added awkwardly.

“It is,” he said, his lips pulling into a wide grin. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight? You want to start tonight?”

Fuck. What had you just gotten yourself into?

A/N : That doesn't count as a cliffhanger!!! 😅 I hope you all enjoy the slightly different starting dynamic between reader and Billy with this one, I wanted to have them on good professional terms to start with to make it a lot more fun later on. I've not got much else to say since all of this chapter is just set up for what's to come.

Also anyone that submitted a request for my 500 follower celebration, I'm still slowly working through them, I just had to take a couple of days to make sure this chapter was ready on time!

As always, thanks so much for reading! I should be updating this every fic every Friday around 730pm GMT.

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know!

Tag list :

@oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18

@danzer8705 @snowkestrel @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @intothesoul

[concretejunglefm]

Any poly bad omens thots?

Oh anon you know do!!

Where should I start?

Matt x you x Folio: where it all began for me. From Folio just wanting to listen in, to watching and eventually joining you and Matt. At first, it might have only been about sex, but there was something more than that between you all. You had always seen the way Matt was with Folio, even when he’d treat him a little mean behind closed hotel room doors. You and Folio had always shared something playful, almost flirty, and while most guys would probably be uncomfortable with the closeness between their best friend and girlfriend, Matt always encouraged it. He was never worried, and maybe there was a part of him that always knew you’d fall for each other, that you’d find the same reasons in each other that made him fall for you both, even if he was a little hesitant. Is there ever jealousy? Not necessarily, more a little insecurity from Matt when he feels like he’s not as fun and playful as Folio. Watching you both together can sometimes make him feel like a third wheel, when the bad thoughts are a bit too loud, but in reality, he’s the glue that holds you both together. Without him, you’d be nothing.

Matt x you x Noah: started a little unconventionally. Matt, being a supportive boyfriend because you wanted to introduce a partner into your cam work, introduced you to Noah as there was no one outside of his friends that you trusted more. It was only supposed to be one time or two, nothing more and Matt would be there the entire time to make you feel safe. But with the physical came the emotional you had long been pushing down, and all it took was Matt to look in your eyes and see that you love Noah too. You all seem to be in love with each other, and if only it were that simple. You could be together without any issues. But unfortunately, it’s not, and you’re too afraid to admit your own feelings for fear of losing Matt and the love you share. It's them who suggest a weekend away, somewhere that allows you to all set aside the physical aspects of your potential relationship and discuss what it is you want, without casting judgement and as well as your boundaries, figuring out the next step in this something new you all wish to explore.

Noah x Nicholas x you: you were brought into an existing relationship between them, two soft boyfriends who both had crushes on you. Why should you be forced to choose? Even if they initially acted as though you had to. You now spend your evenings watching them stream and play video games, keeping yourself off camera while Nick idly strokes any part of you he can reach, while his other hand is always on Noah in some way. The best part is when you can come together and tangle yourselves in a cuddle or a soft make-out session. While away from this arrangement, you find yourselves growing more enamored with one another, especially when you spend days engaged in each other’s hobbies or simply have a date night.

Jolly x you x Noah: you never could've anticipated anything coming from moving in with your boyfriend Jolly, aside from it being the next step in your relationship. You had already been friends with Jolly's roommates, especially Noah, but now that you were living there, you came to discover the extent of Noah’s insomnia. Your own fractured sleep pattern allowed you to keep him company and over months of nights spent hanging out, something began to shift, not only between you but also in Noah. He found himself actually falling asleep on numerous occasions when you were around, mostly on the couch, his head resting on your shoulder. Noah knew then what had happened; he'd fallen for you, but didn’t pursue it further. It was Jolly who brought it to the surface because he recognized the look on his best friend’s eyes—the same look he had in his own when he looked at you. Noah was in love with you, but it was Jolly who suggested taking the next step into something new together.

Nick squared x you: these thots are pending but they're hot. Folio has a more dominant side of the primal kind when he's paired with Nicholas, one which they both like to use and exploit when it comes to you. Their favorite thing is to chase you, before Nicholas takes his time tying you up for their own fun and your pleasure. Outside of this, they’re incredibly playful together and with you. Their personalities and hobbies complement each other perfectly, making them the ideal set of boyfriends for you and for each other.

Matt x you x Noah x Nicholas: this is purely for fun. Matt is your boyfriend but he has an enjoyment in sharing you with his friends, at least those who he trusts and is closest too. Nick x Noah have a habit of sharing you together, one because they love to make everything a two person job, and two they love worshiping you and pulling you apart together and in different ways which make you completely incoherent by the end

Matt x you x Davis: a soft and caring Davis paired with a mean!matt, who loses all of that when this man is around. Could you really ask for anything better?

Nicholas x you x Davis: what started as a lesson out of curiosity blossomed into something more, especially when Davis came back around for a follow up which involved him being the one to show Nicholas what he had learned, before they used it on you together. You didn't anticipate it going further, that soft look Davis gave you wasn’t just him becoming infatuated with the new dynamics of your relationship. It was more than that, and it became harder for him to deny it as he spent more time with you until one night, he blurted it out. There was no jealousy or irrational outbursts. It was Nicholas who brought the conversation to light and allowed everything to be shared, not clouded by the high of an orgasm or your lust for one another. Instead, it allowed for genuine clarity on the situation.

sub!Noah x you x sub!Folio: who'd have ever imagined that Noah would want to share you? Certainly not you and certainly not with one of his best friends. It happened purely because Folio wouldn't leave Noah alone, aware of what happens behind closed hotel room doors because the walls are thin, and curious to find out more, he would always work to get Noah into more trouble with you, or simply tease him for the sounds he could hear coming from his room the night before. While Noah is your good boy, Folio wants to be, he wants to prove that he can be a good sub, he's just a little overly eager and impatient, but you eventually teach him the basics and the benefits of having patience, especially when it results in him coming apart at the seams in a whole way beyond anything he could've anticipated. Outside of their contrasting personalities, Folio and Noah make for an interesting dynamic in your relationship. However, there’s a perfect middle ground where you come together in harmony, especially when all three of you are tucked in bed together, squished between the two most obedient pups you could ask for. Maybe now is the time for Folio to have his own version of a collar, just like Noah’s?

All omens x you: you’ve been friends for longer than you’ve officially been together with any of them. However, that doesn’t mean there weren’t underlying circumstances and shared moments that ranged from sexual to romantic with each of them. It could have almost felt like cheating or playing them, until you discovered that they were all aware of it and had planned it all along. They were just unsure of how to approach you about it. When you’re together, you take your time to spoil them all by buying them flowers, cooking their favorite meals, and taking your time to have dates with each of them, making them feel special just like they make you feel special. There’s definitely playful jealousy and rivalry, but never anything malicious because they all share the same thing in common: their love for you (and each other).

[thermodynamic-comedian]

when i was created the universe did not give me the patience necessary to become an artist simply because it knew that the world wasn't ready for my magnificent ideas. such as "tma except it's ultrakill" or "tmagp except it's cruelty squad"

[taughtdefense]

something something miyagi!ethan full-well knowing that he's genuinely happy, & so in love with, other versions of robby in alternate lives (verses), & robby loves him in those alternate existences, while s4!him is Absolutely Fucking Suffering

[sttoru]

clan leader!satoru, whose smile isn’t actually a. . . smile. it serves as a gentle (yet not-so-gentle) threat to whomever it is dedicated to. a lot of the gojo clan members, as well as members from other noble clans, have heard of that infamous smile and know of its true meaning.

ever since marrying you, that smile often finds its way onto his lips. it’s not because of you, but rather because of the ones interacting with you. satoru didn’t ever expect to feel so possessive about someone he initially didn’t care for.

a marriage of convenience is all that your relationship was for. it purely existed for the sake of a connection between two famous families. your first weeks together have been awkward. any form of affection - any touches or loving words - were for the sake of his image.

however that all was fated to change: satoru eventually found himself falling for his wife.

your kind personality, your subtle smiles, the embarrassed expression on your face whenever he teased you in front of others even if it was all a faux display- an act of being all lovey-dovey. your inner and outer beauty was slowly becoming more apparent to the white-haired man.

you don’t know when it started. you can’t recall why satoru is suddenly acting affectionate even behind closed doors. usually, he’d drop the act the second you’re in your chambers. now he continues to compliment you, pepper you with chaste kisses as long as you allowed him to… even refer to you as his ‘dear’, ‘pretty girl’ or ‘sweetheart’ to your face like it’s nothing.

you shrug off your own guards and maids when they curiously inform you about their lord’s sudden change of personality, which was supposedly all because of you.

“ah, my wife,” satoru’s voice echoes above the loud chatter in the main hall. you turn your head and find your heart racing for some reason as he addresses you in that gentle tone.

he makes his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving your face, even as other important figures try to catch his attention to talk business. “i was greatly worried about you,” your husband sighs.

a gloved hand cups your face and satoru leans in, his glossy lips inches from yours. you’d think this was part of the fake arrangement, but there’s this genuine hint of adoration behind his cerulean eyes that you cannot ignore.

“i— my apologies,” you murmur softly, eyes darting around the room while you try to ignore the loud thumping of your heart. “i was simply talking to one of the guards,” you explain and nod your head to the bulky man standing next to you.

the guard respectfully bows to satoru the second you introduce him. your husband doesn’t respond for a single second, his fingers twitching lightly at his side. he can’t stand the thought of you talking to another man while he isn’t around.

is it for your own safety? or is it because he’s jealous and immediately wants to get rid of any man who dares speak to his precious wife? perhaps it’s a mixture of both.

“i see,” satoru replies. his eyes darken for a second before he catches himself. the corners of his lips curl upwards, though the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

that familiar sight makes you nervous. you’ve seen it before, when your husband would subtly threaten others for whatever reason, while hiding his true feelings behind that smile.

“well,” satoru continues, his arm wrapping around your waist. he pulls you against his side and places a kiss on top of your head while glaring at the guard through his white eyelashes.

“thank you for keeping my wife safe,” the clan leader says through that tight smile, trying to keep it as ‘genuine’ looking as possible. he has a reputation and image to uphold after all.

you’re about to say something, but are cut off as satoru adds another comment. “i’m here now, so you can return to your post.”

it isn’t a suggestion. it is an order— a command. a disguised threat.

the guard immediately picks up on the subtle hint and nods without saying a word before walking back to his spot at the doors. you can hear the faint whispers from others as they also seem to recognise that change in satoru’s demeanour.

it’s not like you’re totally oblivious to what’s happening either. you look up at satoru and place a hand on his chest, trying to catch his attention. “satoru,” you whisper his name.

the white-haired man immediately snaps out of it and excitedly shoots you that boyish smile of his instead of the fake, cold one he wore on his face just a second ago.

“you called, my dear?” satoru tilts his head, bringing a hand to rest over yours on his chest. your eyes widen a bit at the way he seems to relax and look at you with that same devoted gaze.

you don’t think it’s an act anymore. the words die on your tongue and you can’t recall what you wanted to say anymore. those sparkling blue eyes and charming smile have you rendered speechless.

“…it’s nothing,” you mutter under your breath. you have no clue how you’ve managed to turn that once, cocky, overly confident and cold-hearted ruler into a total softie for you. it’s something you still need to process yourself.

satoru doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, glaring at the men who pass by, shooting them that fake, threatening smile if they looked like they desired to converse with you.

you’re his wife, and that’s that. he silently wonders when you’ll realise that he actually fell for you. perhaps you are already aware of it, but hide it from him on purpose.

whatever the case is, satoru will make sure that you know his true feelings for you. one day he will tell you those three words explicitly— if it wasn’t obvious enough through his sudden change of behavior.

[secretlocket]

chris’s brothers catch him and sunshine!reader making out.

“they’re eventually gonna come back, y’know,” you giggle, resting your arms around chris’s shoulders as you shift on his lap. chris tilts his head back against the seat, his ceruleans glinting with amusement. “yeah, eventually. key word being eventually,” he replies, his hands lightly tracing patterns on your hips.

you glance out the window, eyes wandering over to the front door of the triplets’ apartment building, bouncing slightly on his lap in excitement. “honestly, i’m not even mad they’re taking forever. this just gives me more time to plan. i’ve got three secret santa gifts to shop for today—this is, like, my super bowl.”

chris’s fingers drum lazily against your waist as you shift on his lap, your attention drifting to the apartment building in front of you. for some reason, nick and matt are taking forever to come downstairs, but you can’t even bring yourself to care. the extra time feels like a gift in itself—more room to brainstorm, more time to plan.

your thoughts keep circling back to the three secret santa exchanges you got yourself looped up into for this year, each one more exciting than the last. first, there’s the one with the triplets and their friends. you somehow managed to draw chris’s name, and the irony has you practically buzzing with excitement.

you’ve been dying to shop for him, though you’ve also spent way too much time second-guessing your ideas. something funny? something heartfelt? maybe a mix of both? you want to find the perfect gift—something that’ll light up his face in that way only chris can. the thought of seeing his reaction is half the fun. honestly, you really just want to make him happy.

then there’s your friends’ exchange. that one’s a little easier, filled with inside jokes and personal traditions. you’ve already got a solid idea for that one—something cute and maybe a tad bit chaotic, just like your group.

and finally, your coworkers. that one’s tricky, mostly because you don’t know everyone as well as you’d like, but you’re determined to make it work. you’ve been piecing together ideas for days, scrolling through endless gift guides and pinterest boards, searching for something thoughtful without being over the top. you’re really glad you didn’t draw your managers name because that lady hits a nerve you didn’t even know existed—but that’s a story for another time.

chris’s hands pause on your hips, breaking you out of your thoughts. he tilts his head back to look at you, his blue eyes glinting with quiet amusement. “doesn’t look like they’ll be coming out any time soon, so…”

the brunette’s words trail off, but the playful glint in his eyes is enough to make your heart skip a beat. he leans in, closing the distance between you with a soft breath that sends a shiver down your spine. his lips find yours in a slow, teasing kiss, gentle at first, like he’s savoring the moment. his hands, still resting on your hips, tighten ever so slightly, pulling you closer, his touch warm against the fabric of your jeans.

to say that you aren’t the slightest bit nervous, well that’d be straight up bluff. you’ve been dating chris for a good seven months now and you guys haven’t done anything more than kiss—the thought of doing more makes sweat pool in the middle of your palms, though you’re not entirely sure if in front of his apartment in your jeep is the ideal place to bang.

the kiss deepens almost effortlessly. you can feel the change in the air as he presses his soft lips a little firmer against yours. his hand slides down your side, fingers trailing over your waist, before sliding lower, his palm coming to rest against the curve of your ass. the movement is slow, deliberate, as if he’s trying to gauge your response.

then, his kiss turns hungry, more urgent, as he tilts you back slightly, encouraging you to lean into him as he reaches down the side of the passenger seat to recline the seat back a little more. you can feel the heat between you grow, the way his lips move against yours with more intensity, like he can’t get enough. his hand on your hip moves to your back, pressing you flush against him as if he can’t bear the space between you. the kiss is messy now, breathless and frantic.

you find yourself responding, one hand slipping up to his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you tug him closer. his grip on your ass tightens, pulling you even further into him, and you can feel the heat of his body through the thin layers of your clothes. the sensation leaves you dizzy, a quiet, satisfied moan escaping your lips as you press closer to him, lost in the moment. any thoughts of his brothers, shopping for gifts, and the mall are long gone, somewhere discarded in the lost and found box in the back of your minds.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

well, spoken too soon.

you freeze, and chris freezes too, his hand still resting on your waist, his gaze flickering toward the window. you follow his line of sight and immediately recognize the faces of nick and matt standing outside the car—nick, who looks totally unfazed and matt, who’s head is down but judging by the way his body is shaking, you can tell he’s cracking up.

clearing your throat, you climb off chris’s body and make your way over to the driver’s side. quickly clicking on the buttons on the side panel, unlocking the car doors with shaky fingers. as soon as the doors click open, nick begins to talk, stepping forward with matt following closely behind.

“move to the back, kissy face freak, i called shotgun while your ass was still in bed,” the oldest triplets shoos away the youngest one as he watches him climb into the back. “we weren’t even gone that long and you two are in here sucking each other lips off.”

nick begins to discuss their secret santa shopping plan as you start the car, the wheels gliding smoothing across the road as the vehicle moves. you nod along as he speaks, but your mind is still buzzing from the rush you had earlier. and you’re more than a hundred percent sure matt still has that stupid grin on his face too.

the eldest triplet connects his phone to your jeep’s bluetooth, mumbling something about how he wants to play his music after being tortured from chris and matt’s playlists when the three stepped out to grab a few groceries—you’re not entirely too sure what he says after that when you catch a glimpse of chris’s gaze in your rear view mirror, the two of you exchanging embarrassed smiles before your attention goes back on the road.

messages from brie 🗯️ : once again, i am way too sure that this is over 100 words. this was really cute and fun to write 🙂‍↕️ i hope you all enjoyyyyy, i need to kiss this man asap or i’ll —

✷ tags : @sugrhigh @et6rnalsun @metanouias @eternaldecisions @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @lov3bug @cosmicanakin @chrissturnsfav @graciebrams

[hiraethwrote]

ADMIRING FROM AFAR

pairing : choso kamo x f!reader summary : suddenly the quiet, alternative looking guy catches your eye in class and you're unable to shake the idea of him. from afar, you start to create a fantasy of what he might be like — and eventually your imagination has made up a character you slowly find yourself falling for cw : university au, non-curse/modern au, fluff, pining, pierced and tattooed!choso, smoking, one mention of a party, yuki cameo, terrible ending bc i suck at writing endings, no use of y/n word count : 3.6k

Hallway crush!Choso who didn’t stick out to you until you were halfway through the semester, on a random Tuesday.

The only reason he caught your attention in the first place was because he actually raised his hand to answer the professor’s question, something he had never done before, or since.

His husky, yet surprisingly soft voice, broke the deafening silence that came after the question was asked. Nearly in a trance, your head shot up to get a look of the mysterious guy.

Never had you been more thankful for the mandatory core courses you were forced to sign up for — you would never have encountered him otherwise.

Sitting two rows in front of you and five seats to the left, you weren’t able to get a clear view of the guy. However, what you did see, did not disappoint. Tufts of black hair was tied up in two buns, and silver jewlery decorated his ear. He was wearing all black, shy lines of ink peaking up the neck of his shirt and past his sleeves.

From that moment, you were hooked on the idea of this stranger.

Hallway crush!Choso who you spotted nearly daily now that you were aware of his existence.

You had an assignment due in one week, so you decided to go to the library to actually get some work done for once.

Three hours into your study session, you had to exhale deeply as your motivation was running low. So you let your eyes roam the peaceful scenery of fellow students, some more dutiful than others — when you suddenly spot the mystery guy from class, sitting with three other people.

He looked so casual, leaned back in his chair, arms loosely crossed across his chest as a chuckle played on his lips as a response to something the person sitting next to him said.

Now that you had the opportunity to get a proper look at him, you noticed how extremely good looking he was — the type of breathtakingly handsome that hid in plain sight by how he never tried to stick out whatsoever.

For the next hour, you would subtly shoot glances in his direction. In all honesty, you felt somewhat embarrassed by how you found yourself a little infatuated by a guy you didn’t even know the name of.

All of a sudden he raised from his chair, having you straighten your posture. He pulled his leather jacket over his shoulders, his bag across his chest and put his headset on — with a smile and a nod, he begged his friends goodbye and left.

Hallway crush!Choso who, despite having his small group of friends, tended to stick mostly to himself.

Yeah, he sat with his little crew for a few hours, but he always left before the rest of them. Not to mention you often spotted him walking from one class to another in his lonesome.

On the days the library was absolutely packed, and it was impossible for you and your friends to find any available seats, you would sit down at one of the sofa groups in one of the university’s many long hallways. None of you complained either, as there wasn’t the same pressure to remain quiet.

It just so happened that the man who had captured your interest, walked right past your designated spot at least three times every week.

His headset was on like always, walking with easy determination. He simply seemed to mind his own business as he smoothly made his way through the hallway without bumping into anyone.

Your attraction to the dark and handsome stranger wasn’t as subtle as you first had thought, when it didn’t take your friends more than a day to notice your admiring gazes hanging onto him for the few seconds it took for him to walk by.

“Who’s that?” Your friend asked with a playful lilt to her voice, leaning forward and placing her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Hm? Just someone in my social science class,” you answered nonchalantly with a shrug just as he was out of sight.

“Just someone in your social science class,” she repeated mockingly. “And what’s his name?”

Hot embarrassment raised up your neck, “I don’t know,” your voice weak as their teasing chuckles filled the space.

“So you’re just ogling a stranger, essentially?”

“Shut up, he’s hot,” you fired back as you fell back in your chair, desperately trying to ignore their laughter.

Hallway crush!Choso who only continued to remain a mystery as the weeks went on.

It quickly evolved into somewhat of an inside joke — a game almost, all of you pitching in with silly little ideas of what he might be like.

“He looks like a cat person,” your friend whispered as he walked by.

“Oh, no doubt,” you agreed, eyes glued on his back. “Probably grew up with a family cat that always sleeps at the foot of his bed.”

“You think he greets the cat before his family?” She giggled.

You laughed along as you slowly shook your head no. “Don’t think so. He greets his mom first,” you turned your attention to your notebook, your pen drawing mindless doodles across the pages. “He’s a mama’s boy. But not in a weird way, you know? But in a green flag way.”

They would all laugh along to the daily chatter that filled the group before turning back to their own work, forgetting all about him until he would walk by again.

You, however, couldn’t shake him from your mind quite as easily.

The more they fuelled your fantasy with their fun and innocent ideas of who he might be, you fell deeper into the spiral of your crush.

When left alone with your own mind, your imagination went beyond the small quirks your group came up with — you started to imagine meet-cutes.

What if you “randomly” bumped into him at the little coffee shop just off campus?

What if you were paired up for a group assignment?

What if you ended up next to each other in the kitchen at some random frat party, and the conversation would just flow so naturally?

However, you kept those made up scenarios to yourself, because it was too shameful to admit to your friends that you were slowly falling for the person you had made him out to be — still without a name to put to the face.

Hallway crush!Choso who broke your heart just a little, though totally unaware of the fact.

“I didn’t know your man had a girlfriend.” You shot your friend a confused expression before following her gaze.

That was a first. You had never seen him walking down the hallway accompanied by someone. Let alone a tall, blonde and absolutely gorgeous girl, pure confidence running through every fibre of her body.

After that, you saw just the two of them more often than you liked. And you knew it was absolutely ridiculous to even be bothered by the pair, but you couldn’t control how the lump in your stomach formed at the sight of how well they seemed to fit together.

Her look wasn’t quite as edgy as his, but they definitely had the same vibe. Not to mention they seemed to be close, evident by how she always leaned in and grabbed onto his upper arm when he made her laugh, or how just the two of them would leave their study session in the library to share a cigarette.

You hoped seeing them together would eventually kill the proximity crush your brain had stupidly nourished — it turned out to be the opposite.

Watching him interact with her only granted your imagination new material to build on. Whenever she spoke, he had all his attention directed at her — genuinely listening to every word she said. You watched how he was gentle with her, careful not to be too harsh in his movements whenever he made contact with her.

He just seemed like such a good guy, who made your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him.

Hallway crush!Choso who one day actually did crash into you in the line in the cafeteria.

At first you thought you were dreaming, because the scene played out exactly how you had imagined it so many times in your head.

It was lunchtime, meaning the cafeteria was obviously packed. You were blissfully unaware of his presence behind you, having stayed up a little too late the night before to try to get some understanding of the material you had been assigned.

It wasn’t until a random bystander bullied their way through the crowd in the opposite direction, causing him to stumble forward into you and he quickly uttered a polite apology, that you realised exactly who it was.

Strong hands had grabbed onto your arms to help steady you. When you turned to face him, you wished you were able to utter your own apology — however, the words never made their way past your tongue, too startled at the sudden close interaction.

“People really don’t look where they’re going, huh?” he said, a shy curve to his lips as he let go of you.

“That’s people for you,” you tried to joke once you found your words again.

Your heart was beating a million miles an hour as you watched his eyebrows narrow. “Hey, don’t we have social science together?”

He recognised you.

You cleared your throat and nodded weakly, trying to serve him a sweet smile but you could feel the waver in it.

“I’m Choso, by the way,” he smiled casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Once again you tried to smile, but your lips only managed to pull into a thin line as you introduced yourself.

You expected that to be the end of the conversation, that he would pull out his phone in an effort to smoothly round it off without it being too awkward for either of you — but to your surprise, you saw him contemplate his options before opening his mouth again.

“How’s the assignment going?”

“Well,” you started, hoping he didn’t notice the little crack in your voice. “The words are, at the very least, being put on paper, if that tells you anything.”

He chuckled.

You made him chuckle. It was low and coarse, but a chuckle nonetheless. “Sounds familiar.”

He continued to keep the chatter light as you moved along with the queue, completely oblivious of the effect he had on you.

It wasn’t much, but just based on the little interaction, he seemed even more lovely than you had imagined, which only did more damage to your already smitten heart. Because being effortlessly attentive when listening and engaging in the conversation though he didn’t need to, only brought a piece of reality into your fantasy.

Your palms were turning clammy as your heart was pounding against your chest so loud you were sure he heard it. He was, after all, standing closer than one normally would a stranger due to the thick crowd of hungry students surrounding you.

“Well,” he sighed once you’d both paid and stepped into the hallway. “I need to get going. But it was nice to finally meet you for real.”

Finally.

Nice to finally meet you.

“Yeah, you too,” your lips twitching in a smile, heat travelling to wash over your face. You had always thought him to be so incredibly handsome, but you had underestimated how charming his smile was up close.

“I’ll see you around.” The curve of his lips continued to linger as he backed away before he eventually turned his back towards you and removed his headphones from around his neck to put them on.

Hallway crush!Choso who slowly started to gain the title of acquaintance after the reenactment of one of your made up scenarios.

It started very casual — he would greet you with a quiet “good morning�� as he walked past you in the auditorium before taking his usual seat two rows in front of you.

“Morning,” you smiled in return while he held your gaze for a little while.

Waking up the days you knew you had class with Choso became a little easier when you knew what friendly routine was waiting for you.

After three weeks of the innocent interaction, he decided to disrupt the comfortable pattern you had fallen into. This Tuesday morning, he didn’t continue walking down the stairs after wishing you a good morning.

No, he stopped dead in his tracks, pointing at the empty seat beside you. “Is this seat taken?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and shook your head. “No. No, all yours,” you stuttered as you moved your bag for him to sit down.

He uttered a weak “thanks,” and made himself comfortable, pulling out his leather bound notebook and pen.

Hallway crush!Choso who turned out to be a lot funnier than you had first imagined.

Too caught up in the potential romantic gestures that entertained the depths of your mind, you found yourself so giddy whenever he whispered a silly joke during class for your ears only.

Hallway crush!Choso who accompanied you for the few minutes it took for you to walk to your friends after class finished.

“I’m headed in that direction anyways, so I’ll just tag along.” You’d be a fool to decline his offer, cutely biting your bottom lip and clutching your laptop closer to your chest, feeling like a love struck teenager.

When coming around the corner, you avoided looking in the direction of your friends at all costs. You knew you wouldn’t be able to suppress the embarrassment that would flush your face if you witnessed their shocked expressions as a reaction to walking alongside the guy you had fawned over for months.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that you spun around — sure enough, they all sported exactly the facial expression you had expected, staring wide eyed with their jaws slacked.

“Okay? Something you forgot to tell us, babe?” One of your friends gushed once you had taken your seat. You shrugged innocently, trying not to let all your excitement spill over at once.

“Hope you at least know the name of your stranger now,” the one sitting opposite you teased.

You nodded slowly, “Choso,” you answered simply, enjoying the interrogating looks they were giving you.

“And? Give us the details!” All three of them had pushed their school work aside — this was ten times more important after all.

So you began to explain of the happy accident that had taken place a few weeks ago, and it had eventually ended with the two of you always sitting next to each other during lectures — none of them failed to match your energy.

“Wait, but I thought he had a girlfriend?”

And as easy as that, your girly and romantic fantasy shattered into a million pieces. Guilt was written all over your friend’s face as one could literally see the realisation dawning on you.

Having lived in the pure bliss of your new friendship, you had completely forgotten about the goddess he was so often seen with.

You started to reflect over the fact that you couldn’t remember seeing her in a while, and felt sick that you might have been too wrapped up in Choso that you just hadn’t noticed her recently.

Thus your excitement was short-lived, not ever wanting to be that girl.

Hallway crush!Choso who noticed how your mood was drastically different than normal the next time he met you.

He had looked forward to seeing that sweet smile tug at your lips when he wished you good morning, but instead he was met with a cold “hi”. You didn’t even turn to look at him.

Had he done something to upset you? The last time he saw you, nothing seemed to be off. You were your chipper self, greeting him with a curve to your lips so wide, your eyes would crinkle.

Class started, and you had yet not said another word to him. He shot you a glance, seeing your fingers hurriedly travel across the keyboard of your laptop, and every once in a while letting your eyes flicker up to look at the professor.

Maybe it was just a bad day. Maybe you had an exam in a different course that was causing you unnecessary stress.

Or maybe, god forbid, you’d come to the conclusion that Choso wasn’t someone you wanted to waste your attention on after all.

Hallway crush!Choso who decided to walk you out of the auditorium, despite your cold front trying to push him away.

It was awkward — incredibly awkward, a feeling that really hadn’t been present in the newly blossomed friendship. Still with no words exchanged, you packed your stuff and pulled out your phone.

Once outside of the auditorium, Choso wanted to try and start a conversation to try and disclose whether he’d done something or not. He only managed to catch your eyes when calling your name before a bolting figure came crashing into his side.

“There you are! You’re an impossible man to catch these days,” the girl exclaimed.

Choso saw the discomfort that subtly traveled down your face, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“I’ll see you around, Choso,” you said shyly, about to turn around and walk away before the blonde captured your attention.

“Wait, is this the girl you’ve been talking about?” You quickly spun back around, eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the blonde girl had peaked your interest.

Switching your attention to Choso for a second, you noticed how dusty pink had coloured his pale cheeks, his eyes wider than you’d ever seen them.

“It might be,” he said before clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders, hoping you didn’t notice the stress that was residing in his body.

“Finally,” she groaned, her hand shooting forward to initiate a handshake. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while. I’m Yuki.”

You still weren’t able to completely put the pieces together yet, blinking at her as you accepted her hand and introduced yourself.

“Oh, I know,” she mused, flashing you a cheeky grin. “This one right here,” patting a flat hand against his chest, “doesn’t really stop talking about you.”

A shy smile spread across your lips as you quickly shifted your gaze to him. “You’ve been talking about me?” You spoke softly.

“Well-” he stuttered, the pink quickly deepening into red.

A teasing scoff shot past her teeth. “Isn’t he cute when he gets shy,” she said as Choso’s shoulders grew stiff under her embrace. “You have that effect on him.”

When the opportunity to properly observe the dynamic between the pair in front of you, as well as digest the things Yuki was actually telling you, the pieces finally fell into place — they were just friends.

You had worried and spiralled for no reason, having spent the days since you had last seen him to prepare you to distance yourself from him.

But one look at his embarrassed face and tense body as a result of being teased about you, had all the butterflies come swarming back within seconds.

Choso kept most of his attention on Yuki as she went on to ask him what she’d initially come to talk to him about, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes dart over to you every once in a while.

“My god, you’re my saviour,” Yuki gushed at her friend, tugging playfully at his arm, before turning back toward you. “He’s truly a catch,” she said with a wink as she slowly started to back away. It had you grow a little restless, knowing you would soon find yourself standing alone with him. “Be good to him. And it was great to finally meet you!”

And she was off.

Slowly Choso turned his entire body towards you, his face having done the impossible and gotten even more red.

“What an interesting interaction,” you breathed.

A nervous chuckle slipped out of him in an attempt to remove the immense pressure that was looming over him. “She’s really something.”

“What was that part about me making you shy?” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I mean-“ he cleared his throat. “I guess you’re seeing it in action right now.”

“Hm,” you said simply, causing him to narrow his eyebrows in response — both in confusion and slight worry.

“Hm what?” Swallowing the lump in his throat.

“It’s cute.”

Then he couldn’t stop smiling.

Boyfriend!Choso who managed to live up to every bit of your love dazed fantasy.

At times, you were scared you had let your fantasy go to far — that in your desperate hope for something more, you had created a character that no living person would ever be able to live up to.

Yet here Choso was, in the flesh, embodying every scenario you had made up when you had been tossing and turning on sleepless nights, and then some.

Small or big, he never disappointed.

He held the door open for you, he remembered your coffee order, he showered you with compliments and admiration.

It didn’t take long for him to learn how you yearned for grand gestures — so Choso made it a mission to fulfill those dreams.

Not only did he succeed, but he excelled well beyond your expectations.

He made sure to take you on dates frequently, but also spontaneously so you wouldn’t see them coming. He managed to make every occasion feel planned and intentional.

Boyfriend!Choso who was absolutely baffled once you told him about how you had admired him so intensely before you ever talked to each other.

The confession caught him completely by surprise, because he couldn’t in his wildest dreams have imagined you even noticed him before the little episode in the cafeteria.

Boyfriend!Choso who despite succeeding in making you his girlfriend, got just as shy about you now as he did then.

tags : @sad-darksoul

an : i hope it's a universal experience to create proximity crush that drives you crazy... dividers by @/strangergraphics comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2025 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[justauthoring]

jerk.

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: wooooooohhhhh i love soulmate aus so much omg

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part two. part three.

You’ve known he was your soulmate from the first day at U.A. 

When he’d bumped into you, steaming with anger in that way he regularly was and had spat at you; “move it, extra, or i’ll make you” – and you’d known then because those were the words written across you hip since you’d turn five and it had manifested with your quirk.

Because that was how the world was. Nowadays, it was odd to find someone without a quirk and even harder to find someone without a soulmate and you’d grown up your whole life having those awful words written on your skin. Had grown up knowing that for whatever reason, the soulmate you’d been given didn’t say warm, intimate words to you or even just simply generic words. Your friends had always had such nice sentences from their soulmates, with pretty words or a happy greeting.

And in yours you’d been called an extra.

Whatever the hell that meant.

You’ve never been excited to meet your soulmate. Not once. Not when you were five, or eight or twelve or when you started noticing people in a way you hadn’t before, more romantically. Not when you started maturing and growing up. Those words glared at you every time you stared at them and you didn’t want a single thing to do with your soulmate.

Not ever.

That is only doubled when you realize who your soulmate is. Maybe there was always a small part of you that hoped the words were misunderstood; you’d make scenarios up in your head about how those words could be teasing or even just a misunderstanding. 

When they’re spat at you by an intimidating blonde man that looks like there’s actual steam pouring from his ears, with piercing red eyes that cut into you like you’d done some horrible thing to deserve his anger… you understand then that they weren’t teasing and they aren��t a misunderstanding. They’re cruel and they’re mean and dismissive and hurtful and every horrible thing piled together by a man who is even worse beyond just his first words to you.

So you make it your goal that he never finds out you’re his soulmate in return.

You avoid him. Desperately. You’re barely a person in his own head so it isn’t all that hard to do. Even as the rest of the class grows closer and bonds, it seems Bakugou is just as content to ignore everyone else as you are to be ignored by him. Sure, some worm their way into his heart, like Kirishima or Midoriya and Shoto, but nobody else really seemed to matter. At least, you didn’t. You had the same friends, you were in the same class, and eventually, you ended up sleeping in the same building. 

You saw him everyday. You ate in the same kitchen and relaxed in the same living room. You trained in the same gym and overall, were consistently near each other. But you didn’t speak to him and he’d never tried to speak to you after that first day. Months pass and it continues on this way and you’re sure he doesn’t even know what your name is.

Or that you really even exist.

And you’re happy with that.

Content.

Because while the idea of a soulmate was romantic and heartwarming and something you dreamed about, him being your soulmate sounds horrible.

And it was best he just never even knew.

He was so focused on becoming number one, you’re not sure he even cares about finding his. 

Which is fine. Works better for you in the end.

-

“Y/L/N and Bakugou. You two are teamed up for combat practice today.”

You freeze at Aizawa-sensei’s words, body tensing as your eyes instantly shoot towards Bakugou. He’s already looking at you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he lets his eyes drag across you; it’s clear he’s assessing you. Maybe trying to remember your name or if he’s ever seen you before.

It wouldn’t surprise you if he was.

Somehow, in all your months of being in the same class as Bakugou, you’ve never once been partnered up with him for anything. You think once you may have been put in a group with him, but that was with several others so it'd been easy enough to avoid him.

One on one though? That was going to be harder.

Way harder.

“Good luck,” Mina calls from beside you, squeezing your shoulder before she moves to meet up with her partner; it looks like she’d gotten Jirou. Lucky. 

Watching everyone else disperse tells you that you can’t just stand there like an idiot anymore. You take a deep breath, ignoring the nerves that course through you as you make your way over to Bakugou. As you make contact with him again, you realize he’s not moving; obviously he expects you to come to him.

Jerk.

When you reach him, the two of you just stare at each other and since you’re certainly not going to speak first, there’s a moment of awkward silence before Bakugou grunts; “ready?”

You nod and he isn’t confused by your silence so the two of you walk off to an open area in the gym. He stands across from you, gives you a look and then is racing towards you. You’re not sure why Aizawa-sensei teams you up with Bakugou because your quirks definitely don’t mesh well together and it’s clear Bakugou is stronger, but you’re able to hold up well enough on your own.

You even manage to land a hit on Bakugou once that clearly surprises him and you take it as a win.

And a little payback for being such an ass.

Then, when the class is over and you’ve promptly been knocked on your ass in return, you’re surprised to see a hand stretched out in front of you, invitingly. You blink, eyes drifting upwards only to meet Bakugou’s as he stares down at you. He’s not smiling and he doesn’t look all that friendly, but he nods his head in recognition.

“Good job.”

The words are such a shock your brain short circuits for a minute. Not only are the words the nicest thing you’ve ever heard Bakugou say (which is saying a lot) but his voice wasn’t gruff or aggressive like it normally is–it was… soft, almost? Maybe not soft but… normal. Just… calm.

Your heart is lurching at the sound before you even realize and then you’re pushing yourself up to your feet, basically smacking his hand out of the way and running out of the room without another word.

-

After that, Bakugou doesn’t seem to leave you alone.

He’s everywhere.

And not everywhere in the way he had been before. He’s not there in passing or just across the room from you, he’s asking to train with you or deliberately making sure he’s the only one left for you to partner with. He seems to always be in the kitchen when you want to eat or in the living room when you want to vedge after a long day.

He’s constantly there.

Not to mention, gone are his glares or looks of indifference. He’s always looking at you, making sure you know he knows you’re there; even if the two of you are in class or with a group of classmates. He makes note of acknowledging you. The others seem to notice too because the girls start asking what you did to get Bakugou’s attention and you promptly tell them you have no idea.

Of course, they don’t know Bakugou’s your soulmate so they don’t really get the scope of your panic. And it’s not that you don’t trust them, especially after all you’d been through as a class, but more because the less that knew, the less likely Bakugou was to know.

But now? Now it was getting hard to avoid him and it was even harder not to say something without it looking obvious why you weren’t.

You were promptly fucked.

You are able to stall it for all of two weeks before you’re cornered by Bakugou.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Your wide eyes fall on him, not only shocked by his presence but panicked by his words because there were few things a sentence like that could mean. 

A quick glance around tells you there’s no way to get past him without Bakugou being able to block him and since it had already been made clear that he was in fact stronger than you, you knew there was no escape. Everyone else was gone since you’d snuck out of training to grab a bite to eat and it seemed like Bakugou had snuck out the same to follow you.

So yeah, you were screwed.

Bakugou lets out a huff at your silence and he takes another step towards you, further crowding you and you swallow thickly when he steps into your personal space. You move to walk back but then your back is pressing against the wall of the kitchen and Bakugou is completely shrouding you, it's hard to look anywhere but at him.

“Do you think I don’t know why you won’t speak to me?”

Inhaling sharply, you turn your head to the right, determined to avoid his steely red eyes that feel like they’re piercing into your very soul. You focus on the handle to the cupboard to your right and try to ignore the growl he lets out in response.

He takes another step forward and suddenly he’s inches apart, close enough you can feel his breath drift across your skin, warm to the touch.

“It wasn’t hard to figure out after you ran from me that day when we were partnered up,” Bakugou continues. “Especially when I started to realize you’ve never talked to me. And then? Avoiding me for the last two weeks? It’s not hard to figure out.”

You halt, freezing, waiting for the words—

“You’re my soulmate.”

You refuse to look at him. You won’t look at him. 

Maybe if you just ignore him, he’ll go away. He’ll just… leave. He doesn’t like being ignored, that much you’ve gathered and so if you just refuse to–

Suddenly his hands are on your arms and his chest is against yours and he’s way too close. “Hey,” he huffs, “look at me.”

You don’t listen. Even as you tense beneath his grip, you refuse to do anything, to give him any sort of reaction. If you give him a reaction, he’ll get what he wants. And you’re not thinking straight. You need to just wait, wait until he’s bored and then you can think—figure this out because surely–

“Y/L/N,” he calls and you’re surprised he even knows your name, “look at me. Hey. I’m right, aren’t I? Why else wouldn't you fucking looking at me.” You continue to remain silent and Bakugou lets out a low growl. “Fucks sake. I’m not leaving until you say something so you might as well—”

“—I’m not saying anything to you because you’re a jerk!”

Well, that certainly could’ve gone better.

The words leave your lips before you even realize you’ve said them. The second you’re done, your chest is heaving and you finally turn your head, eyes snapping to Bakugou’s, fearing his reaction at your rather blunt and rude words.

But, a second later, instead of being angry like you’d expected, Bakugou starts… laughing.

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen the boy laugh, certainly not that genuinely. His lips are parted and his eyes have squeezed shut and the laugh that leaves his lips is pure and genuine and loud and it’s so unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him you’re stunned stupid as you stare back at him with your lips left parted, jaw slacked.

As his laughter fades, Bakugou meets your gaze.

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words for years,” he starts, still smiling–actually smiling this time. Not a smirk. But an affectionate grin. “Wasn’t sure what I did to deserve those words, but it seems fitting.”

Blinking, once, twice, you sputter, snapped out of your stupor. “I–I… You jerk!”

“I think we’ve established that already, babe.”

You barely even notice the nickname. If it wasn’t for the way your heart races at the sound, you’re sure your stupefied mind wouldn’t have caught it because seriously, what the hell?

“You… this is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything!” You cry out, not sure if you’re defending yourself for him or more for yourself. Why are you even defending yourself? And what against? “You’re insufferable. And rude. And cocky. And a jerk.”

Bakugou just snorts. “What are your words?” He asks, smile fading slightly as his expression turns more serious; almost solemn. Regretful. “Must’ve been bad if you had to avoid me.”

You’re surprised by the guilt in his tone, but it gives you the confidence to answer. “‘Move it, extra, or I’ll make you’,” you mumble, fiddling with your hands. “You said it the first day we started here at U.A.”

“Shit,” Bakugou curses, running a hand through his hair. “So you’ve been avoiding me for months?”

Your eyes flick to his before lowering and that gives him his answer.

He shifts. “L-Listen… uh, sorry about… about cornering you like this.”

Blinking, you tilt your head up. You’re shocked to see a red tinge to his cheeks. 

“I just needed to know,” he finishes explaining. “And I’m sorry about that shit I said to you. My soulmate doesn’t deserve that crap but I can’t take it back, so I’ll just make sure I make up for it.”

You’re positive now that you’re hallucinating this whole thing.

“What?”

He blinks down at you at your screech before smirking.

“Well, I mean, as we get to know each other,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I’m shit with words but I’ll try for you. I'm good with showing though,” and he looks a little too pleased with himself.

But you can barely focus on the very blatant meaning of his words, you're still trying to catch up. “You…” and you hesitate, not sure if you’re hearing this correctly. “You want to get to know me?”

And he looks at you like you’re dumb.

“Duh,” he shrugs, “you’re my soulmate.”

“What about being number one?”

“What about it?” he argues, shaking his head. “That’ll still happen. You think I can’t do that while also dating you?”

Your eyes widen; “dating?”

“Yeah,” he says, again like you’re dumb. He takes a step towards you, once again closing the gap between you and his hands falling on your waist, pulling a gasp from your lips at the touch that causes him to smirk, as if proud. “You’re my soulmate. Of course we’re going to date.”

“I barely know you!”

“That’s why we’ll get to know each other.”

You just stare up at him.

“You really are insufferable,” is what you manage to say in the end, exasperated. Your shoulders fall and your body sags but you don’t pull away from his touch and even if you’re not fully aware of it, you’re pretty sure you end up leaning into him.

“You’ll learn to love it,” he shrugs, still grinning. “Now, let’s go back to training. We need to work on your defense.”

Blinking, you turn to him as he shifts the both of you, guiding you forwards. “Hey!”

“What,” he shrugs down at you. “It’s true. You were barely able to block my hits when we fought.”

You can’t find the words to say so you simply let him lead you along, trying to ignore the way his hands make your skin tingle and your heart race. Or, really, the way that despite everything, you really don’t mind.

If anything, you actually like it.

Fuck—he really is a jerk.

[juney-blues]

June Egbert is, and always has been incredibly fascinating to me because of just, how many factors have conspired to make Homestuck fans show their collective transmisogynistic asses.

The main character of Homestuck transitioning is a planned future plot point for the official continuation of homestuck, that was spoiled in advance by a fan making a joke about finding some toblerones Andrew Hussie the author of homestuck hid in a cave.

The current main writers of Homestuck: Beyond Canon have went on record in an AMA confirming that this was indeed always the plan, even before they took up the project.

In spite of these facts, the general consensus among certain homestuck fans seems to be that "June Egbert" is purely a headcanon for the original comic that was "made canon" by a "Toblerone Wish" (a concept that didn't even exist at the time)

For a variety of reasons, the "canonicity" of the postcanon official continuations of homestuck is a mattter of much debate, (though a debate that most homestuck fans seem to err on a side of "it's not canon at all in the slightest," something the writers have feelings on I'm sure.)

All of these factors combined leave the concept of "June Egbert" in a very nebulous place. It's assumed by most to just be an "ascended headcanon" that was shoehorned in, it's a spoiler so it hasn't happened yet in any official media, and the official media it will eventually happen in is regarded by some to be nothing more than glorified fanfic.

If someone is talking about June Egbert, and you don't like the concept of June Egbert, you have your pick of a million different excuses for why she's fake and gay and not worth discussing and bad writing and just the authors doing a gay dumbledore*, paying lip service to representation while actually doing nothing.

And of course, lots of people *don't* like June Egbert! Rather than being introduced as transfem from the start, she's in this nebulous position of discovery where people have to truly reckon with the idea of a "Pre-transition Trans Woman."

You can try to write off *some* of the backlash as transphobia, because obviously not everyone in this fandom is gonna be cool about trans people.

But there's no shortage of fans just dying to tell you about how much they like reading her as transmasc, or the idea of her being nonbinary or genderqueer or genderfluid, or literally anything besides a trans woman. And since they're fine with all those other interpretations, there's obviously no implicit biases driving their distaste for the concept! (if you want to try explaining the concept of "transmisogyny" to people like this you're braver than I.)

you can trust them when they say it's *just* a problem with whether or not it makes sense with the writing, or it just doesn't feel right somehow, or any of the thousands of excuses that this writing situation gives them to just Not Like It.

It's just, so interesting to me. There's not a lot of characters out there that get a trans arc in this way, that leaves room for open denialism and insistence that we have our trans cake and eat it too... Because Homestuck is a timeline spanning multiverse story, lots of people seem to want it to be an alternate timeline thing. Assuring us we can have this character share space with a non-transitioning version of herself and it won't be weird or imply gross things about trans people.

If you ask me it feels like a plotline that'd be really good for exploring some gender horror though, finding your true self and then being demoted to a footnote, an alternate version, because everyone around you likes your pre-transition self more....

Anyway I have no broader point beyond "hey look at this isn't this kinda weird. You don't get this kinda stuff often!"

*side note: it's a little ghoulish I think to compare "a future trans plot point that hasn't been given the chance to even happen yet, in an already famously queer piece of media, from a nonbinary author" to "some stupid shit done by the literal most famous transphobe of all time" but that's perhaps a discussion for later.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

imagine Jason sleeping with reader and having to rest his hand on their neck. He just wants to feel their pulse at all times, terrified of them disappearing .

The Blood In Your Veins

Hi nonnie. Kinda tweaked this ask because holding your throat feels more AK!Jason Todd to me. Sorry if you're not an Arkham Knight fan! ~500 words

The Arkham Knight sleeps with a hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pressed to your beating pulse. Night after night, his hand stays there, unmoving, unrelenting. If you try to move, his grip only grows tighter, a reminder to stay in place. To stay next to him where he can feel the blood pulsing through your veins.

He knows you try to be understanding, try to close your eyes and slip into sleep. But you can't. It feels like a threat, a promise that you can't go anywhere, even if you wanted to. And maybe it is.

He needs to feel the beat of your life against his skin. He needs to know that this is real, and not another twisted vision his mind conjured in the asylum. It's not an escape. It's not just a fantasy he's imagining to pretend he's not trapped with the clown.

He'd never admit it, never tell you that you're the reason he still has anything left of his sanity. That he'd pretend he was somewhere safe, with you, every night the torment got too much. Somewhere he wasn't beaten and abandoned and cold.

So, he needs this. Needs you. Needs the soft and the warm and the steady you always bring. Even if you try to shift out of his grip, even if you try to guide his hand to hold somewhere else. Nothing else makes him feel here, in this moment. His fingers have to rest around your throat.

The Arkham Knight would never hurt you, never try to limit your air or make you choke. But he can't stop himself from squeezing, sometimes. Your pulse just feels stronger against his skin when he does. He can get closer to the steady pumping in your veins, feel the way your heart rate accelerates. He feels alive. You feel alive.

It's best when you finally fall asleep, when your breathing slows and you melt into his touch, any apprehension or uncertainty gone. He exists for moments like these. When your soul is completely under his hand, when he can stroke the pads of his fingers over your pulse and just know.

It's the only thing that keeps the nightmares away now. You. Your life. He'd bury himself into your chest if he could, anything to get closer to the pounding against your ribs. He wraps himself around you at night, face buried in the junction where your shoulder meets your neck, resting over your heart, or hidden in your hair. He tangles your legs with his or hikes your thigh over his hip. Whatever gets you closest.

But one thing always stays the same, his hand finds a way to settle on your throat. Nothing feels more right than when his arm snakes past your chest so he can hold your neck and pull you to him. He'd keep you like this forever if he could.

You'll understand, eventually, even if you don't know now, you're the only peace he has left.

[ozzgin]

“Do you mean it in the sense that Reader goes through monster boyfriends and is quick to dump them for the next catch”

Yep. Just a vile reader who’s breaking hearts left and right. I think you’ll write it beautifully if you channel your evil side like when you play the sims! ☺️

-👘

Yandere! Monsters x Heartbreaker! Reader

You've always been a free spirit, unable to settle on a single partner. Even after being abruptly transported into a different dimension where you are the only human surrounded by monsters, this habit of yours has persisted. Except monsters, as you will see, are harder to discard than humans. They aren't as willing to accept rejection.

Content: female reader, reader is a player, monster smut

Ah, how troublesome. He won't stop calling. You lazily pick up the phone and look for the options to block the number, clicking your tongue in irritation. You'd specifically told him you're not interested in anything serious. "Who's calling?" The man shuffles under the sheets, still half-asleep. "No one." You respond curtly, glaring at the intruder. "It's morning already, by the way. When are you leaving?"

You slam the door shut before the overnight guest can bring up the classic "Will I see you again", and exhale theatrically in relief. Finally alone again. You look up and shake your fist menacingly, as if whichever entity governing this world is responsible for your bad luck. You've always been utterly indifferent towards committed relationships, and yet most fuck buddies end up head over heels for you, dragging themselves at your feet like pitiful beggars. Pathetic and a pain in the ass to deal with.

Well, someone must be up there, because your situation feels too much like a sassy answer to your complaint. You've just rushed out of your apartment a moment ago and last time you checked, the concierge office wasn't on a rocky hill covered in deep cracks erupting with lava, stretching out into the seemingly unending horizon. Where the hell are you? You turn on your heels, reaching for the door, only to find out - who would've expected? - that it's gone. Great. Your immediate explanation is that the guy you've mistakenly brought home last night must've slipped something in your drinks. All this for a sloppy, clumsy eating out.

The worry of being drugged vanishes quickly once the first creatures of the realm appear. Hard to believe anything on the market could cause such detailed hallucinations that can sniff and touch you: Some alligator-looking minions with eyes popping out of their backs slid out of a nearby crevice to investigate the newcomer. Ironically enough, they seem to be the ones shocked by your appearance. Once they've hesitantly assessed your presence, they scurry aside to discuss their findings. "What could it be?" You hear one mumble, completely baffled. For whatever reason you can understand their language, so you decide to speed up their detective work. "Ever heard of human?" You shout, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. The beasts gasp in unison. "Nonsense! Straight out of a children's tale!"

Eventually, after a lot of confusion and pointed fingers, you manage to figure out your predicament. You've somehow landed in a world of monsters, where humans are more of a fictional, mythical existence. Thankfully they don't seem to consider your potential as food, though you're not sure if the sudden, massive ambush of creatures is any better. The alligator-like quadrupeds brought you to the nearest settlement and had to form a barrier to stop the curious beasts from almost trampling you in their frenzy to see "the human". You've garnered ridiculous amounts of attention, yet such reaction is to be expected; how often would an earthling wander into their world? It could very well be a lifetime singularity for many.

As the days pass and you become more accustomed to your fate, you begin to feel that familiar calling. It doesn't look like you'll be going home anytime soon and a lady has her needs. Additionally, whatever popularity you had back in the human world is a minuscule fraction of what you're currently experiencing here. In the eyes of the monsters, you're an exotic treat that cannot be refused. It shouldn't be too hard to find yourself a partner, or two. Or three. Who keeps count nowadays?

You remember stumbling upon a postcard print of "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" at some museum shop. You immediately picked up the thick cardboard, eyeing the artwork in amusement. A woman enveloped in the limbs of two octopuses and very obviously enjoying herself. Who even came up with the pairing, you wondered at the time. Whatever the artist was thinking, you can certainly see his point now. The first one to receive your indecent proposal was an eldritch creature of sorts, something straight out of Lovecraft's lucid dreams. Dark, long tendrils sprawling out of an amorphous core - which you assume is its head based on the bulging, glistening orbs hungrily staring at you. Your whole body is throbbing under the tight hold of the slippery tentacles, wrapping around you in masterful intricacy. You could see the result featured in a bondage magazine, though you don't...can't ponder much on it given the fact you're, well, stuffed with monstrous appendages. You doubt any genital variation back home could compare. The monster is even polite enough to occasionally wipe away the continuous stream of drool spilling out of your whining mouth. Towards the end you barely have a voice anymore, throat sore from the loud moans and merciless constriction. Your muscles contract all at once, overwhelmed by the sensations. Whatever sensitive areas you might have are presently aching under the needy fondling of the creature.

Mind-blowing. The memory is enough to have you wet and squirming with desire. Even more so when you consider the other varieties of monsters ready to fuck you senseless. Soon enough you're surveying the neighborhood for the ideal suitors and thankfully you don't have to worry about making wrong choices, as there's always a next target. Thus the following weeks fill you with a particular kind of nostalgia (among other things and fluids), reminding you of the bed-hopping in the human realm. From werewolves drowning out your whimpers with their desperate howling, to hooved legs of hybrids violently thrusting into you until you're a dripping mess. "Look at me" is what one of the beasts demanded in a low growl, turning you on with its ragged voice and clawed hand encircling your frail neck. Although you had to ask it where exactly to look, given it was covered entirely in eyes.

You yawn and stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about the depraved fuckfest you're currently recovering from. You might've overdone it with the last one. Alas, you came enough times to make up for it. Just as you turn around to readjust the ice pack, you hear a loud thud coming from the entrance. You (carefully) sit up and rub your eyes, trying to focus on the shadow figure approaching your bed. It's one of the lizard monsters, swiftly slithering across the wall and landing over you with an angered expression. "Where the fuck is that dog?" it inquires with a hiss. "What? Who're you talking about?" you mumble, wildly confused. "The one that dared to touch you."

Oh, not this crap again. You almost roll your eyes. "You never said anything about us being together." Is your annoyed reply. "What? I thought it'd be obvious you belong to me!" You're about to question the strange logic, but your couple's quarrel is interrupted by the sound of shattered glass. The many-eyed monster crawls its way in with fluid, uncanny movements, releasing a deafening screech once it notices the lizard in your bed. "Off! Get off my human now!" is what it finally manages to verbalize in its fury. Okay, it seems to be the common belief. To clear off any shred of doubt remaining, the ceiling gives in and crumbles like putty under the weight of an enormous tentacle. You scream and cover your face from the bits of rubble flying everywhere, but you're quickly sheltered by another thick appendage looping itself around you, against the wrathful protests of the lizard. You did not anticipate the eldritch creature could expand to this gargantuan size.

For the first time since arriving here, you feel homesick. At least back home you could get rid of your annoying admirers with the slide of a button. Is there a larger scale alternative for cosmic blasphemies? You shake your fist (up? down? you can't tell in the darkness of the tentacle shield) towards the entity once more. Damn it, you've learned your lesson. Several steps must’ve been skipped before reaching a pack of angry, possessive monsters fighting over your ownership.

[tthoroughfare]

garden daisy (part 2) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: ellie makes a new friend, and you feel all weird about it.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.6k

this is part two of this series! find part one here

okay so i feel like the way i've organized this series is kind of confusing as it started as a random blurb... technically part one is this blurb however the real story starts in the xmas fic! the blurb just kind of exists floating around somewhere before the events of that and sets up the dynamic. call it part 0.5 i guess. also i'm so sorry if ur name is haley it was genuinely the first name i thought of hahaha

after christmas, once you’re all settled back into life at college, ellie gets a new job. it’s just a few shifts a week at a music store, but she seems to be enjoying it. you’re happy for her; it’s nice to see her getting out of the apartment more, doing something that allows her to be in her element.

but then she starts mentioning a girl she works with. like, a lot.

“dude, look at what haley sent me today, i was dying.”

“haley had, like, the coolest shirt on at work.”

“oh my god, so i found out haley likes comics, too.”

at first, it doesn’t really bother you. then, it’s a case of you trying not to let it bother you. why even should it? she’s allowed to make new friends; her life doesn’t revolve around you.

still, you don’t like the way your chest starts to twist every time she gets mentioned, every time you see ellie smiling at her phone. you can hear them on facetime frequently through the thin walls of your apartment, and you more often than not end up shoving your headphones in to drown it out.

they start spending time together outside of work, too. she mentions that they’re going to see an exhibit together on a shared day off, and it takes everything for you to look up from your laptop, give her a tight smile and utter, “cool.”

you can tell she’s a bit dispirited by your reaction, like she’s debating saying something. she leaves it, though, just nodding once and pursing her lips before walking away. you kick yourself for it immediately — wishing you’d tried harder to appear enthusiastic for her. you’re worried it could be the seed of a wedge being driven.

it’s not like she’s completely neglected your friendship. you live together. you see her every day. she still gently knocks at your ajar door, poking her head around and asking if you want to watch a movie with her. you make dinner together on friday nights, something you’d done since you moved out of the dorms and got a semi-decent place.

you’re just so used to it being the two of you. sure, you both have other friends, but you’re best friends. you can’t help but feel a little uneasy all of a sudden someone new is making their way up the ladder, ellie not having quite as much time for you anymore.

at least, that’s what you tell yourself the reason is. you know the real one.

you eventually meet the esteemed haley when she comes over to hang out, and to your petty dismay she well and truly lives up to the boasting. you’ve seen pictures of her (as in, you found her on instagram and stalked her at two in the morning), but she’s even prettier in person. she’s sweet, too, giving you a hug and saying how great it is to finally meet you. ellie talks about you all the time, apparently.

the evening’s spent with the tv on, a few drinks sipped. you’re on one side of the couch, ellie on the other, new friend in the middle. you hate how genuinely likeable she is; she goes out of her way to speak to you, asking you questions about yourself and chatting jovially when you find common ground. she’s cool, smart, witty — it’s impossible not to compare yourself, and feel subpar. like old news.

and you wish you weren’t, but you’re reading into every little thing. the way the two of them easily bounce off of each other’s jokes, the way you can see even where you’re from how ellie’s eyes light up when she looks at her. deciding three’s a crowd and you’re just hurting your own feelings, you call it pretty early.

when you stand after finishing your drink and announce that you’re going to bed, you note the way that ellie’s face drops. “oh… really?”

you scrunch your nose, trying to sound untroubled. “yeah, i’m kinda tired, so…”

“m’kay,” she replies, chewing slightly at the inside of her cheek. she knows you better than that. since you first met, you’ve never been ‘kinda tired’ by nine.

after a pause and a quick look back and forth between the two of you, haley gives you a smile, reiterating her earlier statement. “well, it was so nice to meet you, anyway.”

you return it, nodding. your eyes flit to ellie for a split-second. “yeah, you too. see you both later.”

with that, you place your glass in the sink across the room and head off down the hall.

you change and get ready for bed, although the plan was never to sleep. you’re nestled under a blanket, lights dim and a candle burning as you keep your eyes trained on the bullshit stream of youtube videos you’d put on. you’re not really paying attention, mind well and truly elsewhere; simultaneously feeling sorry for yourself, and like the most petty, mean person in the world.

you feel pathetic for wishing ellie’s new friend wasn’t so easy to get along with. she came off as a nice person, and not in a sickly, fabricated way. you could understand how she’d easily tugged ellie out of her shell. a part of yourself had been secretly hoping she was irritating, or bitchy, or weird towards you — you just wanted something to latch onto, something to validate all the uncomfortable emotions that had been swirling ever since she became prominent.

but there was nothing. now all you’re left with is a weird bitterness towards a perfectly normal, sweet girl, her only crime being fetching up a childish possessiveness within you.

you don’t even understand why you’re like this over her in particular; ellie was always an introvert, but it wasn’t like she was a complete recluse. she’d had a serious girlfriend in high school, seen a couple of girls your first year of college, and you don’t remember feeling anywhere near how you are right now. you just guessed you didn’t have as much understanding of how you looked at her back then, combined with the domesticity of now having your own real place luring you into a warped way of thinking.

you hear haley leave around an hour and a half after you’d taken yourself to bed, followed by ellie shuffling around the kitchen space. the tap runs and there are a few clinks as she washes then places the three glasses to dry, hitting the lights off. her room’s further down the hall from yours, and she hesitates as she’s making her way there.

a few light taps sound from the other side of the door. “you asleep?”

“… no,” you call out softly, watching as it cracks open and ellie picks her way in. wordlessly, she plops herself onto the bed next to you, arm behind her head. you shift away a little, offering her more room.

“what’re you watching?”

“uh…” grabbing the remote, you pause the video for a beat so the title shows. you’re not even sure; you’d just selected the first you saw, then let the rest autoplay. “… ‘six most disturbing forest encounters caught on camera’.”

she chuckles. “spooky.”

“eh… they’re all fake.” you look up at her, smiling a little.

“could’ve fooled me.”

“i’m sure,” you laugh lightly, feeling the need to turn away when she goes to meet your eyes.

it’s quiet for a while, but you can sense she wants to say something. it’s not like one of the times she waltzes into your room simply to hang out, sit at the side of one another peacefully.

“you okay?” she eventually asks gently, turning her head to regard you. you don’t meet it.

“yeah, i’m fine.”

“you sure? ‘cause… i don’t know. you seem a little…”

“i’m all good.” glancing up, you offer an unconvincing, flickery smile. “don’t worry.”

“… okay.”

you can tell it offers no comfort, but she doesn’t push it. just settles further into the bed, scratching at her chin.

her eyes dart from the tv screen to the wall, then back to you. “haley’s cool, right? guessed you guys would get along.”

“yeah, she seems nice.”

she’s really not being subtle; but then again, neither are you. you’d been perfectly friendly while you were all together, but the way you’d disappeared coupled with your increasingly half-hearted responses whenever she was brought up pointed elsewhere.

“seriously, what’s up?” she turns onto her side to face you, resting her head on her arm. “i don’t like this.”

you roll your eyes, sighing as you turn, mirroring her. “it’s stupid.”

“what’s stupid?”

your mind flashes with a million ways you can get an overview of your feelings out, without having to tell her the root cause. “i don’t know, i’m just… like, used to it being… y’know, me and you.”

she pulls a face, letting out a fond scoff and furrowing her brow. “what do you mean?”

a tiny groan sounds from your throat, fingertips rubbing at your eye. “i’m just being stupid. fuckin’ embarrassing.”

laughing quietly again, she narrows her eyes a little. “what, are you, like… jealous?”

“no, i just… i don’t know. ignore me.” you’re trying to ignore the way you can feel your cheeks heat up when she says that word. you’d known all along that’s what you were, but being confronted with it is a whole other sensation entirely.

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps a small smirk on her face and looks down. “that is stupid.”

“right. thanks.”

“no, like…” subconsciously shuffling closer, her leg brushes yours. she quickly moves it. “dude, i can have other friends, but no-one’s gonna be you.”

you blink, thrown by her sincerity. you’d half-expected her to poke a little fun, call you a dumbass. she continues, your eyes meeting hers as she settles her head into the palm of her hand. “you’re always gonna be my best friend.”

yeah, i know, you think. that’s the problem.

[cheriladycl01]

ANGST ( friendship ended, ego battles, Championship, Ferrari, Red Bull, Dutchman, American Girl, unrequired love, Title battle)

Y/N and Max have been friends since their go-karting days. She was a driver for Alpha Tauri and achieved spectacular results with the team and was hoping to take the second seat at Red Bull, but as other drivers are ahead of her to take that spot, she accepts a million-dollar proposal from Ferrari. Max is bewildered by her decision and breaks up a years-long friendship for a trivial reason, as she is thinking about the good part of her career and at Ferrari she has a chance to fight for titles. She is devastated by Max's reaction and his contempt for her, the Dutchman starts to pretend that the American doesn't exist and ignores her both in the paddock and in Monaco, where they live. Fans, fellow riders and the media are devastated how such a lasting friendship ended in such a heavy climate, the American media blasts Max, while the Dutch media trashes Y/N. Y/N and Max enter into a brutal and fierce dispute for the 2024 championship, more tense than 2021, due to the entire context that involves the two. Max felt betrayed by her leaving Red Bull and by her never realizing that he always liked her, but now she's the one who doesn't want anything to do with him in her life anymore and she's going to do whatever it takes to be world champion. They arrive in Abu Dhabi tied and in the wheel-to-wheel dispute, Y/N becomes world champion, and Max realizes that he made a mistake with the love of his life and is humbled by her forgiveness.

This is the story of us! - Max Verstappen x FerrariDriver! Reader

Plot: In the style of a documentary find out what really happened in the year of 2024 between Max Verstappen and Y/N Y/L/N.

“Audio test in the studio please Y/N” the Documenter asks from behind cameras.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” you say your face on camera as some continues to fix your hair.

A News Broadcaster pops up from 2023 on Sky Sports News.

“Today the shocking news has come that rather than signing with Red Bull Y/N Y/LN has made a million dollar move to Ferrari”

“Y/L/N to drive in Red for the 2024 season”

“Red Bull decision to not sign Y/L/N leaves them out no options says Adrian Newey”

News articles play in overlay over each other as they get more frequent about your career change 2 years ago.

“Hiya Y/N” the interviewer for the documentary asks.

“Hello” you smile back politely on the footage.

“So this documentary is about the Formula One season of 2024 and … your intense battle for the championship”

“Mmmmm all very interesting no?” You joke before serious music comes on. Showing some shots of you racing, and some of the radios that came from that season.

“This isn’t right! Why isn’t my team working together” your voice come through.

“Y/N it’s time to back off. You can’t win this one”

“I’m never going to give up, it’s me or him in this dust and I don’t care which as this point as long as I know I pushed”

“Y/N are you okay? Y/N?”

“What the fuck was that?”

“Guys this is my last chance let’s put it all in”

“FUCK THIS GUY MAN”

“Yes it was … a heated season for sure” you chuckle.

“So start by telling us about your early life” she asks after a small compilation of early photos of you karting before it’s edited to flick back and forth between your interview and clips of you karting and in the feeder series.

“I started karting from a very young age, around 6 and worked my way up like any other driver. Eventually Red Bull … saw potential in me and decided to sponsor me and make me a part of their Young Drivers Programme. That eventually fed me into a seat in AlphaTauri or what is now Visa CashApp RB” you start, hands clenched together.

“I saw everyone else get a chance at that Red Bull seat before me regardless of my performance. And when they signed Sergio Perez, someone from a different team, that tipped me over the edge” you admit, knowing that it was one of the hardest heartbreaks you experienced.

“And that’s when Ferrari came in?” The interviewer asks.

“That’s when Ferrari came in, they wanted something fresh and new and I’d pretty much grown up with Charles just like I had Max, so there was no concern about us being Team-Mates. It was … despite Ferraris struggles in recent years, my only way forward” you nod your head, before the documentary shows your driving in your AlphaTauri and your incredible win in that car, that should have been the reason Horner wanted to sign you.

“Max … wasn’t happy with this decision” she asks and you nod.

“He wasn’t … i thought if anything was to ruin our friendship it would be an external relationship that didn’t appreciate our bond. Not … because of a job” you laugh thinking of his reaction and how he’d cut you off in all aspects of life.

That year was difficult for you, even though you’d had more people around you than you’d ever had in your life you had never felt more lonely.

Max had pretty much axed you out of his life. He’d blocked you on every social media, every messaging platform and even put your emails into his junk folder. You thought it was a step too far writing to him so, you left it.

You left an eleven year friendship to just go down the drain. You didn’t realise until he was actually gone how much of an impact Max Verstappen had on you and your life. He was there for you for every major thing that happened in your life and this move to Ferrari felt like your next step. But he had no longer wished to be a part of that.

“What did it feel like when you announced going to Ferrari?” Your asked and your paused for a while before you face the interviewer.

“I think everybody dreams of driving for Ferrari, no matter what team your currently with as … it’s the pinnacle of motorsport. But to be the first female to drive for Ferrari is a statement. The day I made the announcement and it went onto the F1 page that my contract was up with RedBull and AlphaTauri for the 2023 season I couldn’t have been happier because it felt like I was finally moving forward and not stuck in the same spot” you answer and she nods.

“And how did that affect your friendships?” She asks and you almost scoff.

“Why didn’t you just say Max” you chuckle before sighing. You never mind talking about it especially now, of course you were upset and heated back then. You normally tending to be after racing if it didn’t go your way anyway, but when it came to Max leaving you there were times you were pretty nonchalant about it because you didn’t know how to react.

It was the later reaction that was more frightening.

“Well, that would spoil that kind of answer, clearly there’s more of an issue here than with any other driver” she asks.

“You’ve done your research, you know exactly what happened”

Media floods in the documentary American News anchors sending hate to Max Verstappen especially when he came to home turf for a race and the Deutch fans butchering you in the Netherlands.

SkySports -

“Max Verstappen is brutal, can’t imagine ever being as petty as he is”

ESPN News -

“And today we have news that Red Bull Driver Max Verstappen has cut all ties with new Ferrari Driver Y/N Y/L/N, for her change of team”

Fan at the Track -

“You know Max is incredibly overrated and childish for what he did to our American pride and joy”

News in the Netherlands

“ze is gewoon een vreselijke chauffeur”

Fan at Zandvoort

“neuk haar”

It pans back to you looking down at your hands before the interviewer speaks up again.

“So before the season started did you and Max have any heated arguments that contributed to the start of the season?” She asks and you shake your head.

“He blocked me on everything, I was with my ex-boyfriend at that point and we were travelling during the winter break so it didn’t bother me too much. I tried to keep myself distracted knowing I had great support around me, a new team to get to know and work with.

But as the 2024 started to get closer and you came back home to Monaco, sensing Max had disappeared from your life finally sunk in. You had many days at home wrapped up in blankets crying, wondering where it all went wrong.

Making you feel lonely in Monaco was one thing, but it only got worse in the paddock when racing resumed for the testy 2024 season.

A video plays of the Bahrain testing in 2024 you on track in a semi fast Ferrari that people cannot tell whether you are sandbagging or not Max breezing past you.

Strangely that was the closest you’d been to Max in months.

“Monaco was different now that you didn’t have your best friend … how did you occupy your time instead?” She asked.

It showed videos of you partying in Monaco with Charles your soon to be team-mate, Lando Norris and Daniel Ricciardo.

Then it flicked to you and Lando golfing with Max Fewtrell, while vacationing.

It flicked to a very public argument between you and your boyfriend which proceeded to your breakup.

“Well, it was an interesting build up to the season. Let’s just say that” you smirk knowing at the start of 2024 before preseason testing you caused a lot of chaos all to try get your mind off the absence of Max.

“Then we find ourselves at Bahrain 2024… a race I think that will be in the history books as one of the most tense season openings ever” she admits writing something down on the notepad she had that she really didn’t need.

“Yes, it was an interesting race. I think that was the first time I was in equal machinery to Max, at the start of the season we didn’t start off as good as RedBull but Charles and I were giving him a run for his money” you admit knowing Sergio Perez didn’t have the greatest start to the season and now that you were locked into Ferrari, Red Bull were beating themselves up over the loss of you.

“So Max took pole and you were only 0.003 seconds behind him, what a margin! You started P2 both front row” she smiles and you nod.

“Yeah I think that’s the most scared I’ve ever felt in a race car, P2 has been my best qualifying position and I couldn’t let it go to waste. But having Max next to me with everything that was going on was a massive headache” you tell her and there’s a clip of you looking over at Max sat next to you just before the formation lap was about to begin.

“Let’s talk about turn 1 Bahrain …” she asks and you nod.

“I mean, I was racing and I was racing hard. I gave Max plenty of room, I had the inside line and I got past him and led. It was a good overtake and the team didn’t exactly tell me not to go for it” you explain and she nods.

“But after your pit stop stuff got real” she adds and you nod with a roll of your eyes.

“Tell me about it” you laugh.

“AND VERSTAPPEN GOES FOR THE OVERTAKE GOING INTO TURN 5, Y/N DEFENDING BEAUTIFULLY AND HE GOES AGAIN EDGING HER INTO TURN SIX AND OMG HES OFF INTO THE GRAVEL! MAX VERSTAPPEN IS OUT IF THE BAHRAIN GP” it shows the commentary from Crofty when this was all happening showing Max getting out the car and slamming his helmet down.

“WHAT THIS Y/N HAS DAMAGE THERE WAS IN FACT CONTACT AND SHES HAD TO PULL OVER NOT MAKING IT BACK TO THE PITS FOR A NEW TYRE” is shown also you getting out of the car, your escorted back to the pit wall while Safety Car is deployed.

“Yours and Max’s argument that day while the race was still underway and Charles was leading, was intense who actually started it?” She asks.

“Oh Max did 100%. I was just talking to my race engineer and he came over all pissy and yelling in my face. Seeing him so red and angry was funny though” you admit.

“I think that’s the first time people had seen seriously Mad Max since the Ocon incident”

“I guess I just bring that side out of him” you admit with a nod.

“What the fuck was that” Max came over to you, you took a step back hoping to defuse the situation knowing their was cameras around and you didn’t really want to bring attention to either of you.

“Look Max we were both racing hard. It happens, you went into me, we both ended up out the race … it happens” you explain and the camera men all get closer.

“You went into me! Are you having a laugh!” He says until he starts ranting in Dutch and his PR manager and a Marshall take him away from you.

“Bahrain was incredibly dramatic for a race. The champion of last year was sat at the bottom of the leader board and Charles, Lando and George were looking at the top spots. How did the make you feel?” She asks and you nod.

“Obviously it’s concerning. Coming back isn’t easy after a feat like that, so we knew we’d have to come back in Saudi and make it better than it was. It’s also hard to come back from something like that mentally? Yano. So Saudi was hard especially all the media around me” you explains and it cuts to clips of all kinds of media swarming around you asking you stuff about Max and your race in Bahrain.

“In Saudi you and Max raced hard but eventually it ended up with Max in P1 and you in P2 and Lando P3… that podium was tense” she explains and a video of the podium came up, showing Max celebrating with everyone but you. You ending up leaving him and Lando and leant over the fence of the podium to spray your team down below.

“Lando and Max are close, but you and Lando are aswell so how did it feel having no celebration up there with you?” She asked.

“Lando is actually the sweetest person I’ve ever met. He cares about everybody and everything and he worries when he thinks he’s upset someone. He messaged me after that podium, apologising for leaving me out of the celebration and he didn’t even realise he had as he was so caught up in Max spraying him he thought it was both of us. I obviously replied saying I wasn’t upset and that it was okay. I had my team and that’s all I really needed at the end of the day” you nod knowing it WAS a hard podium to be up on but you made the best of a bad situation.

“The comes Australia, and this is your first time to regain the points lost in Bahrain. So what did you do?”

“Man … the first time I won was so nice … that I just had to do it twice” you quote Anthony Joshua with a little laugh. Before it shows you’re victory.

“AND FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HER FORMULA ONE CAREER THE AMERICAN TAKES HOME THE CHEQUERED FLAG TAKING VICTORY IN AUSTRALIA, TEAMMATE CHARLES LECLERC BEHIND HER IN P2 WITH LANDO NORRIS CLOSING UP THE PODIUM” Ted commentates.

“It was an incredible feeling, knowing I was now making my way back up the ranks and was in P3 in the championship, Max was behind me and I felt like I was back in the game. To DNF’s for him was almost laughable.

“The points were very amusing come China, you were leading the championship and Ferrari were at the top for the constructors championship. And Max, Lando and Charles were all on 76 points and you were on 78… how tight!?” She adds.

“Yes, it was crazy how varied this season was with wins, especially with how RedBull were insanely dominant the year before and RedBull took all wins bar Singapore. At this point I wasn’t just fighting Max in he championship there was word at Ferrari that team orders were going to come into play to help Charles win but when we were both so close in points it was easier to just let us race” you explain happily, knowing that it was a fun season to be a part of.

“But after China was a sort of turning point for Max correct?” She asks and you nod again.

“It was for both of us. After China it was a constant change between me and Max of who was going to win, Lando and Charles remained close, but not enough to win.” You explain but her look tells you you didn’t give her the answer she was after.

“I meant about Max trying to rekindle that friendship you both once had” she asks and you scoff.

“Mmmmm you’ll have to ask him about that… at the time I could only assume he wanted to be my friend to distract me from what was important … winning” you answer.

“Hello Max” the interviewer says as their special guest for the documentary comes in. He takes a seat, a stoic nod as he does.

“So, Y/N didn’t seem to be able to tell us what happened after the Chinese Grand Prix, it seems from sources that you unblocked her on everything and attempted contact?” She asks and Max nods.

“I- I did. After seeing her wins, and her face once she realised it was a full fight this year and how excited that made her I knew I was in the wrong for ever letting our bond go. I don’t think she even cared about the championship that year, just being in a team that was letting her drive a good car, with a good team and actually help her improve. I was in the wrong but at this point … she was only focused on racing” he sings and a compilation of videos of the pair of you arguing on track came up.

“It was just affecting you guys either was it?”

“No, it was hard especially for Lando, Daniel and Charles, we’re all so close and Lando and Y/n are like siblings so when it came to the both of us not talking it was difficult for them. Y/N being … well Y/N didn’t want to make it a big deal and started hanging out more with her other friends like Yuki, Logan, Zhou, George and Alex but it still meant it was … awkward to say the least” he admits.

“Yeah, that sounds rough, do you ever regret it?” She asks and he nods.

“For a long long time, I didn’t think that I would be able to reconcile our friendship like Nico and Lewis did” he admits.

“But you think that now?” She asks and he smiles.

“I know so” he smirks

It was the end of the season, you and Max were tied in points so for fans it was like Abu Dhabi 2021 all over again. Max was starting P1 and you were starting P2, you’d overtaken him down the straight having better straight line speed than his car did. You were practically flying round the track, Max chugging along behind you eventually setting the fastest lap, and you just knew the cheer from the crowd would have been phenomenal if you could hear it.

After great strategy from Ferrari you ended up winning that race, along with the Championship. Getting out the car was a feeling like no other, you bend down by the wheel of your car, tears streaming out your eyes and dripping on the still closed visor as your knees give out from a tricky and hot race as you sob.

You run over to the Ferrari team, them all pulling you into hugs along with Charles and his girlfriend who looks so excited to celebrated with you.

“OMG” you cried into Fred’s arms. What surprised you the mot was a tap on your back and a blue race suit. You were silent looking at Max.

“Congratulations” he says and tears are still in your eyes. You just nod at him politely.

“Please Y/N I’m so sorry, I - you deserve the seat and the championship. You’ve done so well this year and I’m so proud of you” he smiles and more tears flood your eyes. All you’d wanted to hear was those words.

“Do you ever think you could forgive me, because I love you Y/N and I cannot loose you” he says tears brimming his own eyes.

“I forgave you a long time ago Max, this was all really stupid” you smile at him. Before your team I pulling you away to get you to the podium.

“After the podium, come meet me at the bay, 3rd yacht along… okay I have to tell you something” he shouts after you and you nod grinning.

“What happened on that boat Max?” The interviewer asks.

“That’s for me to know and no-one to ever find out …” he smirks before laughing and giving you as kiss on the cheek as you come back into the room.

“Y/N?”

“Mmmmm I’m with Max, but let’s just say … we rekindled” you laugh and the cameras cut out the documentary ended.

“So you guys are obviously together … what changed?” She asks off camera curiosity getting the best of her.

“We worked out that we had feeling for each other for a very very long time before the fight!” You answer and well, that was that.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[cattamouche]

scaramouche has flawless skin. his complexion is unnaturally perfect, with a kind of smoothness to it only found on porcelain dolls. it consistently leaves you wondering how on earth people haven't caught on to the fact that he truly isn't human. he was delicately crafted by the steady hands of a god, it's crystal clear.

his eyes are bright, yet sharp and intimidating. his nose is sloped just right, and his lips are small but plump, with a permanent light rosy tint to them. honestly, you wish raiden ei had done a quicker and sloppier job, maybe then he wouldn't be turning so many heads on the regular. you think you should offer putting a paper bag over his head one of these days, maybe that would keep the terribly possessive part of you at bay.

and when your jealousy starts to get the better of you on this day, a petty idea strikes you. swiftly, you creep towards your shared bedroom and pick out a light pink lip gloss from your vanity. when its time to bid him goodbye for another one of his missions, assigned by the dendro archon herself, he doesn't suspect anything. in fact, a kiss goodbye from you is expected. if you were to skip it he'd insist, standing still at the doorframe staring right into your eyes with a quizzical look and a hint of disappointment, almost looking like a sad wet cat.

once you've planted a kiss on his pale cheek, you're only graced with the littlest of time to admire your work. it's not too bright to look ridiculous, but it's also not too faint to go unnoticed. a job well done indeed. so when you close the door behind him, you can't help but let a little laugh slip. you'll get a bit of a scolding once he's back, but the mark of your lips on his cheek, the clearest sign that he's taken aimed at anyone that looks his way, is worth it.

and if you admit to your jealousy when he eventually comes home and asks you for the reason of this little stunt, all he'll do is sigh and ask you to refrain from doing it again. and what he chooses to keep secret, locked away within the hollow spot of his non existent heart, is that he finds your possessiveness endearing. that it's ridiculous for you to let such a thing bug you when he would never give anyone else the time of day. certainly not in that way. instead, he chooses to pull you into a loose hug and change the conversation into how you spent the rest of your day.

[wttcsms]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ you know i'll take you there

ᝰ.ᐟ shinsuke isn't too happy after your little escape attempt, and he makes it known. (fem!reader)

word count 2.5k content contains mating press, creampie, yakuza au, yandere themes, dubcon, praise kink, pet names (good girl), depictions of violence (not towards reader) author's notes sorry for lack of context; this is meant to take place after this fic concept

Shinsuke Kita doesn’t flinch when he pulls the trigger on a gun. 

The recoil doesn’t even register for him; when you do something for so long, eventually, it just becomes second nature. Like the mechanical movements you do when you brush your teeth, or the way you can tie your sneakers without having to actually look at the laces — shooting someone in the head is a mundane thing for Kita, for his line of work. He does it so often, has practiced it ever since he was a young boy, that what he does after is muscle memory. He removes the handkerchief from his suit and wipes the tiny splatter of blood that ended up getting on his cheek. He folds the sullied handkerchief neatly, tucking it away in the inner pocket of his suit. He makes sure the safety on his gun is in place, and he nods for Aran to drag the dead body away. 

When Aran takes his leave, the still-warm corpse in tow, the only people left in the room are Kita and a very scared young man. 

One of these men will be leaving this room, and the other will be hoping for a death as swift and merciful as the flawless execution Kita just delivered. 

“I told you there would be consequences,” Kita doesn’t taunt his victims. He’s not the type to do so. Cold and calculated — his own gang considers him to be a robot, and for the longest time, Kita agreed with them. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Kita has a reason to drag out his torture. Now, Kita understands what it’s like to find his very reason for existing. His purpose isn’t to lead one of the biggest yakuza families in the underground criminal world of Japan. His purpose is to devote his very being to you, and vice versa. 

So imagine how heartbroken he felt when he caught you trying to escape from the farmhouse he built for the two of you. And this man, a low-level runt in his group, had been foolish enough to give in and help you. 

“Please, sir, I wanted no part in the escape! She begged me, she—”

“She’ll receive her own punishment. I value fairness, after all.” Kita interrupts him, sounding as cold as the blood running through the young man’s veins. He’s frozen in fear as he tries to stammer out more excuses, more explanations, more promises to do better in the future but—

—there really isn’t much of a future for him. Not one that he’ll be happy to live in, at least. Kita is fair; having you slip away would have killed him internally. So now, Kita has to kill this man internally. Crush his spirit. Make him dream of death, dangle death in front of his face like a treat to a dog, but never, ever allow him such a kindness. 

(Kita is a fair leader, but very rarely is he kind. 

Kindness will get you killed. 

The boy dumb enough to help you — he’s kind.)

Kita retrieves a knife from one of the inconspicuous cabinets in this room. The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling casts a warm glow over the both of them, but the blade of the knife reflects back the light, makes it shine in the poor boy’s face. He flinches. 

“Do you remember?” Kita asks him, turning the knife as if to inspect it from every angle. 

“Wh-what?” He stutters out, sounding breathless. He might be on the verge of a panic attack. That’ll make things messier than they need to be. 

“Do you remember what hand you used when you held hers?” Kita clarifies. He sounds calm, but the sight of another man holding your hand had him seething. Even now, it takes everything in him to not plunge the knife right into this young man’s heart, to twist the blade ‘round his insides, make him hurt like how Kita hurt when he witnessed it. 

“It was your left hand.” Kita answers for him. “Fortunately, you’re right-handed. Surely it won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you after I’m done sawing it off.” 

Kita’s chopped off a few fingers and one hand before, but never has he attempted to do it with a medium sized knife. A knife with a purposely dull blade. 

He smiles faintly. Sometimes, it can be fun to break routine and try new things.

You’re in bed by the time Kita returns home. He’s back later than he expects; it turns out, his little experiment with the dull blade is very, very messy. Maybe with practice, he’ll perfect that, too. That boy still has another hand to spare, after all. 

Feeling satisfied with himself, Kita starts humming gently as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. Before you, Kita never bothered making unnecessary noise. He rarely listened to music, but now—

The sting of your betrayal has lessened considerably. Kita isn’t even upset with you anymore. It’s normal for couples to fight and want to storm out on each other, but what matters most is that at the end of the day, he’s coming home to find you warming his bed. 

In his line of work, simple pleasures aren’t usually so sweet. 

You don’t stir when he joins you in bed, the mattress dipping just the slightest bit due to the sudden shift in weight, but he makes his presence hard to ignore, even in your slumber, when he presses his chest against your back, his lips nipping gently on the soft skin of your ears. 

You whine, your eyesight blurry as your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. You’re instantly aware of Kita’s body covering your own, and when he feels the subtle shivers of your body, the both of you know it’s not because of the chill of the air conditioner.

He makes a tiny grunt of disapproval. Even after all this time, you’re scared of him? Silly girl — he’d never do anything to hurt you. 

Well, nothing that would hurt you too badly. 

“Did ya have a good dream?” He asks you, breath warm against your ear. 

You swallow hard, not brave enough to shift your body. Ever since the truth came out, the fact that sweet Shinsuke is more than just an average overworked businessman but is a yakuza crime boss, things have never been the same between you two. Kita is nothing if not persistent, though. He still cuddles up against you, he still whispers sweet nothings in your ear, he’s still affectionate and downright loving in every action he does towards you. 

He knows not to expect an answer from you, especially when he plays with the bottom hem of your silk nightgown. “Wish ya would tell me what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” 

You can picture him frowning; as perceptive as he is, you know that he prefers hearing your thoughts directly from you. 

“What happened to Goto?” You dare to ask, and the air seems to shift in your bedroom. 

Kita is gripping the soft flesh of your thighs, his hand large and imposing, rough with calluses and forever red with blood. You never really learn, you suppose, about how there’s a time and place for such questions. 

“Goto received his punishment.” Kita answers calmly, voice steady but cold. “And I nearly forgot about yours.” 

Liar. You want to call him out, but you at least have enough self-preservation to bite your tongue. As if Kita would ever forget. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since your little escape attempt. 

Kita adores you, loves you, because in a world of greedy, nasty, spiteful little creatures, you are kind and caring and full of the sugary sweet goodness he’s always going to have a taste for. It’s why he’s not surprised when you ask him, 

“Is he… alive?” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Is that what you’re really worried about? Goto, over the broken heart of your husband?” 

When you don’t answer, Kita tightens his grip on your thigh, contemplating his next move, before he lets his hand travel to the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing against your bare cunt. He’s pleased to find out that you’re still his obedient, sweet girl, following his direct order of going to bed without a bra or panties. Some nights, he’s so tired, any excess fabric is a hindrance. 

“If you have a heart, you’ll tell me what happened to him.” You mumble, trying to ignore the way your body craves for Kita’s touch. Before the truth of his second life came out, you were an addict for him. No one has ever touched him the way he’s touched you, and even now, when you want to ignore him and try to remind yourself of what an awful person he truly is, you can’t.

There’s a traitorous part of your heart and soul that still longs for Kita, no matter the truth.

“It’s because I have a heart that I didn’t kill him.” Kita isn’t lying. The torture was for his pleasure, sure, but he knows how upset and inconsolable you would be if you felt like you were responsible for Goto’s death. The register of his voice lowers as he speaks again, though. His warning leaves you frozen in fear.

“If his filthy hands ever touch you again, I’ll kill him.” 

There are a litany of reasons why you find yourself in the position you’re currently in: wanting, waiting, whining for Kita. Fear, for one thing. You feel compelled to do whatever he wants, considering the sheer difference in strength and power between the two of you. But try as you might, it’s hard to ignore the tiny, nagging voice in your head that lulls you into a state of docile desire. Kita’s always taken care of you, right? You were in love with him, for fuck’s sake. And as you ride his fingers, content to wrap your warm, wet heat around three of his digits as he chuckles at your wanton display, that nagging voice reminds you that you still do — love him, that is. 

Three fingers buried deeply in the warmth of your cunt is enough to make you forget about the events leading up to tonight. He withdraws his fingers, much to your displeasure, and you whine out for him to continue with his ministrations before he shuts you up by forcing you to suck his thumb. You can feel the rough skin of his finger on your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, treating this situation as if you were about to suck his cock, and your tongue laps at the pad of his thumb before he removes it from your mouth. 

Without any preamble, he’s back to burying his fingers into your pussy, his thumb — wet with your saliva — pressed firmly against your clit. 

“Do you wish it was my cock filin’ you up?” He grunts out, rubbing mercilessly against your clit as you continue to writhe against the bedsheets. Your cheeks feel warm, blood rushing up to your chest and face, and you bite down on your bottom lip, knowing your answer. A shameless, pitiful yes. 

“You’re so beautiful, so sweet, so kind.” In his world, kindness gets you killed. Kita’s no different from any other man in his line of work, and it’s why he’s ravaging you right now. Pumping his fingers in and out of your slick hole, making a mess of his fingers, of your pussy, of the bedsheets, of you. It’s why every time he brings you to your climax, you cum violently. You’re letting out a string of stuttered, fractured fucks mixed in with sharp intakes of breath and Shinsuke’s, and you buck your hips wildly against his fingers, pushing his digits even further in as you cum. 

With your mind hazy from pleasure, your brain scrambled from sleepiness and an intense orgasm, Kita wastes no time pouncing on you. There’s no chance for you to beg for him to wait, and you register that this must be your punishment.

Shinsuke is going to fuck you without any of his normal restraint.

He slides in your sopping wet cunt in one sharp thrust, burying his thick cock deep into your warm, snug hole. He likes having a routine, he likes having set boundaries and rules, he likes being a man of practicality. But right now, he’s fucking you like a wild beast. All you can do is just take it; take his relentless thrusts, his anger, his need to dominate you, to remind you who you belong to. 

“Open up.” He demands, his voice rough and thick with desire. You comply; it’s so easy, considering that you haven’t been able to hold back a single moan as he has his way with you. He spits directly into your mouth, watching the way his saliva sits on the surface of your pink tongue. He doesn’t need to command you to swallow, because you do, savoring the taste of him.

He makes you look him in the eyes as he fucks into you relentlessly. One hand is gripping your hip, practically crushing you as he pounds into your pussy. You’re so fucking wet that the sounds of him moving in and out of your cunt are so lewd, so loud. The inescapable burn of pain and pleasure, the sensitivity of your cunt having to endure his insatiable lust, has you moaning like a bitch in heat. 

“Shin— Shinsuke! G-gonna cum!” You squeak out, and it only motivates Kita to double down. He holds up your legs, your limbs burning from the stretch as he continues to get rougher with his movements. You’re looking at him with a dazed, fucked out expression, and he has the audacity to let out a chuckle. 

“There’s my good girl.” He praises you, spitting into your open mouth once more. 

With your legs trembling and the foggy haze of pleasure clouding your head, you greedily, happily accept his praise. Your legs press tightly against his sides, and with his spit in your mouth and his cock drilling into you with even sharper movements than before, you cum. 

Kita lets out a grunt of approval as he finishes inside of you, a load of hot seed pouring deep inside of you as he keeps your legs folded, his hips pressed against yours, as if he wants to plug you up with his cum. He kisses your forehead that’s glistening with sweat from the heat of his body colliding with yours; it seems the two orgasms he wrung out of you have taken its toll on your body. You’re a pliant, fucked out little mess — his pliant, fucked out little mess. 

“Good girl.” He murmurs sweetly. “I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to say it back. He just pulls out his cock a bit before thrusting back into you. This action causes you to let out another long, drawn out moan. He’s absolutely relentless, and as tired as you are, you realize that you don’t want him to stop.

(Pity that you’re not capable of speech at the moment.

Because you would have told him that you love him, too.)