#and if you hate me for tagging you I'm so so so sorry and it will never happen again:(

[bluewxrld07]

Soap (3)

Lando Norris X F!Reader X Max Verstappen

Summary: Y/N has always loved hard and shows that through affection. Especially lately. She's a touch-starved kind of lovergirl, and Lando has always been okay with it. At least she thought so.

Warning(s): angst, tension, flangst, fluff

A/N: TAGLIST IS FULL!!!! I won't be able to tag anymore of you on it, I'm sorry, loves!! I wrote this entire fic listening to Olivia Rodrigo guys so have so much fun lol. I love how much you guys are loving this fic and my writing, it truly means the world!! Enjoy this for now, friends :)

Things had been different.

As normal as they could be now, in the moment, but still different.

People had begun to notice that Lando and Y/N had not been seen with one another.

The pair had never really called it quits, but they both truly knew it was done the second she walked out that door at the Canadian GP. That's what hurt the most.

Lando knew better than most that she would come around when she was ready. That she would say her piece when she felt it was a better time. He knew better than to push her. He knew that now at least. It didn't stop the constant messaging he did the night of their fight, he couldn't help it.

His emotions got the best of him that night, and they continued to get the best of him. When it came to the after-party post the F1 movie premiere, he couldn't stop thinking about Lewis' words.

It didn't stop him from messaging Max that night of the premiere, asking if it were true.

You have a lot of fuckin nerve to be sending me a message right now

That's all he received from the Redbull driver, nothing more, nothing less. Lando didn't know if he should be worried or have no right to be upset knowing what he knows now.

He didn't even think Max would send a response back. If anything, he expected a middle finger emoji if Max did respond.

He definitely couldn't be mad in this very moment he woke up in.

A sigh left his lips as he got dressed in his hotel room, pulling on his clothes for the flight back to Monaco. Too tired and distraught to even worry about the state of his hair, throwing a hat on over it with his hood.

He grabbed his things, setting down a note on the nightstand. His eyes stayed on the familiar blonde head, Magui, who was his ex-girlfriend, who lay bare on his bed, fast asleep.

Without a second look, he had made his way out the door, and out towards the car waiting for his arrival.

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There was a knock on Y/N's bathroom door, the girl mumbling a 'come in' not too long, Max peering his head in. He looked at her in amusement, opening the door wider as he stood there leaning against the doorframe.

Y/N sat on her counter, legs criss-crossed in front of the sink, hair sitting in curlers as she was doing up her makeup, one of her playlists playing softly in the back. She looks back at him through the mirror, a soft and genuine smile forming on her lips. "What?"

He shook his head, snapping out of the daze he caught himself in as he looked at her with his arms crossed.

"Nothing. Do you want anything while I'm out?" Max asks her, and she nods, looking back at him.

"Can you get more bubbly water?" her voice softly responds, Max nodding at her. "The orange cream?"

She nods with a hum. "Anything else, or just that?"

"No, just that. I don't need anything else for now, especially since we have to leave for Austria in a few days," she explains, turning her head back to finish doing her makeup.

"Got it," he hums before walking up behind her. His arms wrap around her waist, causing her to flinch lightly, the action not going ignored by Max. He frowns.

Ever since they'd gotten home, she had been acting differently. Acting off, less touchy, more faded.

That was almost two weeks ago.

Max hated it. He hated this new her; it wasn't like her at all. He could tell she craved to be touched, to be shown affection in some sort of way. To hug everyone she came into contact with, because it was a normal reflex of hers.

He had watched how she would go up to hug some of the crew, only to hesitate and make it look like she was just stretching instead of pulling them into hugs.

Or when Max would come by to watch a movie with her, to keep her distracted from falling into the social media craze going on.

He could see how her body would twitch to reach out for him across the couch. Max is only sitting far from her to give her space, to not overwhelm her.

Then, when he would finally give up, pull her into his embrace, he would feel the instant relaxation her body would. Like she was melting into his own body.

This wasn't her. This wasn't Y/N.

Instead of arguing, as now wasn't the best time for it, he placed a kiss on her head and hugged her tightly. Careful to not mess her concentration up as she did her eyeshadow.

"I'll be back in a bit, yeah? Then off to La Rascasse?" he says, his eyes connecting with hers in the mirror.

"Sounds good to me," she agrees, Max pressing one more kiss to her head before leaving the bathroom. He heads towards her hallway to slip on his shoes and grab his keys.

The house becomes silent after he leaves, Y/N feeling weird now that she is on her own. Her music was playing softly in the background of the bathroom, echoing along the walls. Something in her body felt off when Max wasn't there.

Y/N hums to herself as she leans back to look at her eye makeup from a distance, nodding once to herself in satisfaction before moving over to put on her lashes.

As she begins to reach over the counter to grab her lash supplies, her phone began to buzz next to her.

She looks down at the name, only frowning as she reads the name across the screen. She debates with herself on answering. Deciding to slide it over to answer.

Y/N brings up the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Y/N, hey."

"Hey Charles, what's going on? You okay?"

"I'm alright, I just needed to make you aware of something," he says slowly, his tone sounding unnerving. "I think it's right to let you know, so you can sort out the options."

She frowns at his words.

"Um, yeah, okay. What does that mean?"

"Have you spoken to Lando?"

Hearing his name was easier than it was a couple of weeks prior. Y/N not freezing as soon as she hears his name off Charles' lips.

"He's been trying to message me. I just don't respond. I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."

She hears him sigh on the other end. She can imagine he is probably running a hand over his face as the breath sounds muffled. "Well, this might be a deal breaker. I think you deserve to know, in case things change between you two."

"Charles, I love you, but please spit it out. I'm not going to break more than I already have."

"Y/N," he starts, as if he is trying to find the words. "He's been seeing Magui again. They left together after the premiere, and then she's been around our group a lot more."

Y/N doesn't really know how to react in that moment. She thought it would break her to hear the news, but she didn't feel her insides churn. She didn't feel like screaming, just felt like her throat went dry.

The girl hadn't even noticed how long it had been until Charles said her name, making her clear her throat and shake her head slightly.

"You okay?" he asks.

She didn't know at that moment. She wasn't exactly peachy, but she wasn't crying on the floor, unable to breathe. Not like she would've been if it were two weeks ago when she heard the news.

"Fine. Yeah, I'm fine. Just don't really know what to say."

"I'm sorry. I just figured you needed to know. Alex and I really thought it would be wrong if you found out by her being seen around the paddock one day," he admits, making her nod with a hum. She began to pinch at her skin not too long after. "I know this is probably a dumb question to ask, but does this mean you guys are over? Like really over?"

Hearing the question in real words made it feel surreal. It made it sound official. Not that they ever really did vocalize it, but deep down, they both had known. She had known she wouldn't have been able to act like it never happened. Like he never said what he did.

"No. I don't think so," she finally says, pinching her thighs as she bites her lip.

Most would've said she was being dramatic or inconsiderate. What they didn't know was that it was way deeper than people knew.

She was never allowed to show her feelings, express them, or talk about them growing up with her grandparents. They absolutely hated it; they always said it would make her look weak.

It wasn't until she had met Max that she realized showing and sharing emotions was not a bad thing to do. It was a good thing. He was the reason she showed more love, more affection, more emotion with others.

Max showed her it was okay to be herself. He was never ashamed of her.

Lando had been skeptical of it at the start, shrugging it off. Always asking her why she was so touchy. Y/N never thought anything of it, never looked more into the way he gave her weird looks when she explained why.

When Max never questioned it. Not once. He embraced it, which to this day still shocks her, as he is not the type of guy who likes showing affection like that. He liked keeping the mysterious and dark persona.

That's why people said she was like the sunshine to him. She never had to hesitate around Max. When he was mad, he never pushed her away.

Always made her feel like she was enough.

Oh fuck.

Charles and she didn't talk for much longer after that, only asking when and where they would be once they got to the club later that evening. Y/N's mind racing as time passed.

It wasn't long before Max was back, the girl hearing him announce his presence when walking through the door.

"Schat, where'd you go?" he asks, Y/N realizing he had walked by the bathroom.

"Bedroom! Trying to put on my dress," she says more to herself as she huffs while trying to zip the side of it up her torso. "Neuken, come on," she mutters to herself, her tongue sticking out as she tries to zip up the side.

Max walks in, chuckling as he watches her struggle. He couldn't help but take in how pretty she looked in that moment.

The dress fit her form perfectly, despite her curses and arguments with the zipper; he thought she was glowing. "Wil je hulp lieverd?" (You want help, dear?) he chuckles at her, earning a knowing look from her.

"What do you think, wijsneus?"

Max puts his hands up in surrender before making his way over to her, bending over slightly to be at the height of her issue.

"Arms up, mooi meisje," he says softly, his head now closer to her own as she finds herself looking at him. She does as she's told, lifting her arms up as his hands smoothly help the zipper glide up her skin.

Goosebumps rose on her skin as he finished, Max keeping his eyes on the zipper in concentration.

"You sure love to stare, don't you?" he jokes, earning an eyeball from her. Max chuckles, hearing her swear at him in Dutch. Max looks down at the ground next to them, seeing her shoes sitting there.

Max goes to bend down, grabbing the heels before turning back towards her, fully kneeling in front of her. She frowns.

"What're you doing?" she asks. "You don't have to help me, I can do it."

Max tuts at her as she tries to grab her heels from him.

"Lemme help," he offers, giving her a look. She shoots one back.

"I don't wanna be-"

"I swear if you say that you don't want to be suffocating one more time, we're going to have bigger issues," his voice more stern and serious in that moment. She doesn't miss the way his eyes had something fiery behind them.

"But Max-"

"Enough."

"Max-"

"Y/N I said enough, liefje."

Y/N nods slowly, knowing better then to test Max's patience, as it was something that wore thing very quickly with him.

He pats his shoulders. "Put your hands here for support," he tells her while leaning down to grab her left foot and place her heel on. Y/N softly places her hands on him, keeping her grip somewhat firm. He began to wrap the straps around her calves, Y/N not missing the way his fingertips softly would come into contact with her skin.

It made it feel different. Weird. It was a feeling she wasn't complaining about, that was for sure.

He sets her leg down, then grabs her other foot to do the same process. Y/N feels herself gulping every so often as she finds herself craving his touch more and more.

She told herself it was because she was touch-starved. She wasn't as touchy anymore as she once was. It was the itch coming back as she tried to hold back from being who she normally was.

Max finishes tying the straps together, his eyes looking up at hers to see her looking down at him with an expression he could read better than she could.

Y/N was aroused. She didn't even know it. He could tell.

So instead of saying some snide comment, he decides to play into it. His eyes never left her own as he brought his lips down to the inside of her thigh by her knee, letting them run featherlight against her skin. He then decided to place a slow and light kiss onto the skin just above the inside of her knee.

He doesn't miss the way her chest moved up and down a bit quicker than normal, Max letting a small smirk form on his lip as he pulled away. He stood up shortly after, placing a hand on her waist as he placed a kiss on her head.

"Let's get going before we hear it from Daniel for being late."

She stood there dumbfounded, unsure of what had just happened. Her body tingling in a way she was not used to feeling. Like she wanted more of not just someone's touch, but Max's touch.

What was happening?

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Once they had arrived, Max didn't hesitate to grab her hand tightly to weave through the buzzing crowds inside the darkened atmosphere.

Y/N kept her distance when they approached the table, only doing small hugs with everyone she greeted. Not wanting to overstep in their space.

It wasn't until Daniel had come up to hug her, frowning when she gave him a shy side-hug. He shook his head. "No, you bring it all in. Come here," he chuckles to her, pulling Y/N in for the biggest bear hug. She felt herself relax as her arms wrapped around his torso, squeezing him back just as much as he did her.

Max kept his gaze on her as he watched her face contort from anxious to content in a matter of seconds.

Once Daniel had broken away from her, she didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around Charles in a tight hug. A Y/N kind of hug. Charles didn't hesitate to wrap her up in his embrace, humming with a laugh.

"There's the Y/N I know," he jokes as he pulls away. "Always sharing love with everyone. How it should be."

He nods at her slowly in understanding, Y/N giving him a sheepish smile.

"Wait, did Charles get a Y/N hug? Move over, it's my turn!" Lewis jokes before cutting in to let Y/N wrap her arms around him tightly.

"I've missed these. It hasn't been the same," he groans. Y/N rolls her eyes.

"Such a drama queen."

Lewis pulls away and looks at her. "I'm serious. Your physical affection is like the entire grid's depression cure. Never change."

Y/N lets his words sink in, nodding at him before going to sit down on one of the couches next to Max. He leaned over to her.

"See? Everyone loves it. Loves you," he mumbles into her ear. "Get that nonsense out of your head. Own who you are," he assures her, pulling back to give her a knowing look. She just stares back at him, his closeness making her heart beat faster.

"I'll try."

"And trying is enough."

She smiles at him before he kisses her temple, turning to start a conversation with Daniel and George. Y/N had ended up talking with Alexandra and Kika for a bit, her mind staying distracted as they conversed.

The night had dragged on, filled with dancing, drinks, trips to the DJ booth and appetizers being ordered to their section.

Y/N had felt relaxed for the first time in days.

She had loosened up enough to go dance with the girls, feeling her throat drying up from the lack of water in her system.

Her hand finds Kika's, squeezing it to get her attention. "I'm going to go get some water, and then step outside," she tells her, watching her friend nod with a smile.

Y/N went and grabbed a water from one of the bartenders, then made her way towards the balcony where a staircase led to the rooftop. She stuck with standing out on the balcony, not wanting everyone to send out a search party if she was gone for too long.

She let herself lean over the balcony, somewhat resting her aching feet in the heels she wore. A sigh left her lips as the wind blew into her face.

"You look gorgeous," a low voice booms behind her, causing her to whip her head around. Her breathing stilled.

Lando stood there with his hands in his pockets, his button-up halfway undone, and a pair of black jeans donning his legs. He had a somewhat nervous and sheepish expression on his face, like he was preparing himself for her to not give him the time of day.

When she said nothing and turned back to the view in front of her, Lando took that as his chance to take the spot next to her.

He leaned over the railing, lacing both of his hands together as his elbows propped him over it slightly. He let out a huff, his eyes searching the view in front of them.

"How have you been?" he asked her, keeping his gaze ahead.

She nods slowly, pursing her lips together. "Good."

Lando hums with a nod. "That's good."

"What do you want, Lando?" she asks softly, her tone sounding defeated as she begins to pinch at her skin. He lets his head fall to look at his hands.

"I want to say I'm sorry," he starts, hearing her scoff. "I know it's late, first off, and that you don't want to give me the time of day, second off. I just couldn't keep it contained any longer."

"Is that it?"

"No," he sighs. "I regret what I said. Every single day since then. You're not anything I said. You're the complete opposite."

She looks at him, seeing his jaw clench and unclench before he turns his head to look at her. "You're loving. You're caring. You give love to everyone around you because that's just who you are. You're a giver."

Her gaze was blank, but he could tell she was preventing herself from lighting him up. Because she was better than that. Even though they both knew he deserved it. "I was angry and mad and upset about how the race ended for me. I took it out on you, and that's not okay. I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry," he says, his tone uneven and cracking every so often as he turns his whole body towards hers.

Y/N crosses her arms, feeling her guard slip lightly. Then the reminder of the phone call with Charles earlier echoes in her brain. She looks down at the ground for a moment. She then looks back up at him.

"Thank you. For apologizing," she starts, her voice like silk. Lando feeling his body physically relaxing. "But you chose to wrap yourself around Magui for the time being."

Lando felt his face falter, his stomach drop to his ass. He frowns. "How-how did you-"

"Charles thought I should be aware. In case things would have changed between us," she admits. "I get that you were feeling a lot of guilt and regret. But seeing her after what she's done to you showed me something else in you. I can't trust that."

Lando nods at her words, letting his head fall to look at his feet.

"I do care about you Lando. I always will, that'll never change," she assures him. "But I need someone who won't make me question my worth when things get tough. Or say things in the heat of the moment that cause breaks like these."

He nods. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I hope you know that."

She nods, giving him a shy and sad smile. "I know that now. But you can't turn back time."

"I know," he agrees. "Can I at least hug you? It's been killing me."

Y/N stops herself from chuckling at his words, nodding slowly. Lando doesn't waste another second slithering his arms around her waist to pull her into his embrace. She wraps her arms around his neck, the affection feeling different between them now. More platonic than romantic. "I hope she treats you better this time," Y/N admits as they pulled away.

He shrugs. "Seems like she's changed. I don't want to take any risks yet."

The pair soon makes their way back inside, Y/N looking around for a familiar Dutch driver. She somewhat feels her body react before her emotions, stopping in her tracks.

He was across the bar, talking and chatting closely with his ex girlfriend, whom was getting closer than Y/N liked to admit.

She didn't understand why it was making her insides churn. Why she was glaring at the two long enough to make Lando chuckle at her expression.

"I wouldn't stress about that," Lando says, making her snap out of her daze and frown at him.

"What do you mean? Worry about what?"

Lando laughs harder at her dumbfounded state. He motions towards Max and Kelly. "That. The pair you're basically digging graves for with your eyes."

Y/N shook her head in confusion. "I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

Lando can see the genuine confusion in her eyes, the Brit realizing she hasn't come to her senses yet. He knew Max would probably kill him when he found out the next thing he let slip before he could control it.

"Max is so in love with you," he admits, making them both widen their eyes. Lando for being shocked that he just said that, Y/N for hearing the words that left his mouth.

"I- He- What?" she sputters, Lando groaning as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Well fuck," Lando chuckles to himself nervously. He then sighs in defeat. "No going back now. But yeah, Max loves you. Always has."

Y/N shook her head. "No. No way. Good joke," she chuckles before walking back towards their section of the room. Lando followed after her as she marched her way towards Daniel and Lewis.

The pair smiled warmly at her, then they frowned, seeing the determination and shock on her face.

"You alright?" Daniel asks once she gets to them.

"Is it true?" she asks, the boys looking at her confused.

It wasn't long until Lando came up behind her, a somewhat anxious look on his face. Lewis scowls at him. "What did you say to her?" he whips, making her put her hands up in defense.

"He didn't mean to, don't yell at him," she defends, not missing the way shock is all over their faces. "Although he might need help escaping after Max finds out."

"Okay, seriously, what did you tell her? Max already has a target on your head," Daniel groans while rubbing a hand over his face.

"Max is in love with me?"

Lewis choked on his drink, Daniel choked on air, and Lando rubbed the back of his neck. The two older boys look at Lando. "I'd get a head start on running if I were you," Lewis says, Lando letting out a groan.

"So it's true?" Y/N asks, her tone softer as she crossed her arms.

They look back down at her before Lewis sighs with a nod. "Yeah, it's true."

Y/N didn't know what to think, or much less what to do in that moment.

A part of her was confused, while a bigger part of her felt something different. Almost as if it were relief. Like hearing those words brought her entire body into a calmer realm.

"I think you made her short-circuit," Daniel says as he leans over to Lewis. Y/N gives them a look. She then turns to Lando, putting a hand on his arm.

"They're right," she says with a nod. "You're gonna want to get a headstart on running right now."

"Y/N!" Lando groans while running both hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry! It's true!"

"She's right, mate. Espcially after he almost bashed your head into the wall at the dinner last week-"

"He did what?!" She snaps, the boys all flinching at her tone, the dutch accent coming out more evidently in that moment.

"To be fair he deserved it after everything that happened on race day," Lewis says while pointing at Lando, whom agrees shockingly enough.

"Besides the point," Daniel cuts in. "What're you thinking? What's happening in that brain of yours?"

She shook her head. "Everything. Nothing. I don't even know," she sputters out, rubbing her forehead. Her head snaps over to Max, whom was still happily talking and laughing with Kelly.

Before she realized it, her insides began to churn again, eyes squinting harshly their way.

"Wow, jealous much?" Lewis jokes, making her smack his arm.

"I don't get jealous."

"You do," Lando admits. "You are right now."

She glares at him. "Shouldn't you be halfway across Europe by now?"

His face fell at her words, and Daniel and Lewis both snickered at her words. He rolled his eyes a second later, putting a hand on her torso and squeezing it lightly.

She sees Kelly's hand reach up to caress his shoulder, which made the boys all mumble out 'uh-oh's. Y/N decides to fully turn her body towards their direction, crossing her arms while keeping her stare directly on them.

"Are you gonna glare them to death?" Daniel jokes, Lewis and Lando immediately catching onto what she was doing.

"Just wait for it," Lando trails off.

A few moments later, Max chuckled at something Kelly said. He turned his head towards their section while his eyes searched, then immediately froze when he caught Y/N staring.

It was a look he knew all too well.

"You Dutch women are scary," Daniel chuckles while shaking his head. "How does he sense that?"

Lewis chuckles. "It's the face everyone fears on the grid. You just sense it before you know she's there. It's scary being on the receiving side of her stare."

Max's entire face fell, shame contorting into an ashamed expression. His expression soon hardened, then darkened fully when he caught Lando standing next to her. He was standing way too close for his liking.

What made Max drop everything he was doing, Kelly not even existing in his mind anymore, or in front of him for that matter, was seeing Lando's hand on her waist.

Max didn't even acknowledge Kelly after that moment, just leaving her mid-sentence as he made his way to the group.

Y/N stood her ground, not flinching as he got closer.

"Why're you near her?" Max's voice boomed as he got closer to Lando, but he almost tripped over his own feet when she stepped in front of Lando. His entire demeanor softens, but then goes to complete embarrassment as he meets her glare.

"He and I are fine. We sorted it out. Don't start," she explains. Max was about to argue with her. Until she raised her brows, as if saying, 'try me'. He huffs, not hesitating to nod at her words.

He then glares back at Lando. "You're still in deep shit with me," he points out, Lando pursing his lip with a nod.

"He's about to be in deeper shit," Daniel mumbles with a snort, Lewis smacking his arm hard. Max frowns as Y/N gives Daniel the same scary look.

"Not funny. Sorry."

"What's he mean?" Max asks.

"Doesn't matter," she rejects, shaking her head. "What were you and-"

"Don't change the subject, what're they talking about? What did Lando do?" he argues back.

Y/N shook her head. "We're not doing this here."

Max turns his gaze back to Lando, hardening as he looks. Lando leaned to Y/N before squeezing her side. "That's my cue," he says. "Good luck."

With that, Lando's pace quickens as he leaves the space while Y/N lets out an internal groan at Max. "Do you always have to go Mad Max on people?"

"When it comes to you, yes," he says with no hesitation in his tone. "Now what are those two talking about?"

She looks over at Daniel and Lewis for help, the two boys putting their hands up in defense. "I'm gonna go find Charles," Lewis says before leaving.

"I'm gonna get another drink," Daniel says, leaving shortly after Lewis.

She lets her mouth drop in awe, muttering a 'klootzakken' as she watches them leave.

Her gaze turned back up to Max, who stood towering over her. His look hard and only focused on her. She now very aware of how close he was.

"Let's go then, shall we?" he says, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Fine."

It wasn't long until they were outside of the venue, Max helping her into his car before shutting the door behind her and making his way over to his side.

The first few minutes in the car were silent, Max's jaw clenching as Y/N kept pinching at her wrists.

It didn't take an ounce of hesitation for Max to reach over with his free hand and lace it with hers. "Pinch it," he tells her, Y/N looking at him for a second before sighing.

"Why were you with her?" she asks softly, Max taking note of how defeated she sounded.

He didn't hesitate to answer. "She was telling me about P. How she was doing," he explains. "Then she told me how much her and P missed having me around."

That made her scoff. "Yeah, she misses using you for her advantage," she says more to herself, but loud enough for him to hear.

He smacks her thigh. "No need to be jealous, schat. Enough of that."

"I'm not jealous. Why does everyone think I'm jealous?" She groans, Max trying to hide the amused and smug smile on his face.

"Because you are. Your telltale signs aren't very discreet, honing."

"Because I'm not jealous," she scoffs, keeping her gaze out the window.

"So if I went home with her, you wouldn't have been upset with me?" he tests, making her movements on his hand stop. Max chuckles lightly to himself as he squeezes her hand.

"Exactly."

"Whatever."

Max frowns at her tone, turning to look at her for a second. "Hey, no. Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Shut down," he says before looking back at the road. "I would never go home with her. She's not the one I want. She never was."

Y/N stays quiet, knowing she couldn't trust her emotions. Everything heightening as every moment passed.

It was quiet for another moment, before Max spoke up once more.

"So are you going to tell me what they were all talking about earlier?" he trails off.

"I don't think you're gonna want to hear that. Trust me," she chuckles while shaking her head.

"Try me, honing."

She huffs. "If I tell you, then you can't kill any of them. Not even Lando."

Y/N didn't miss the way his jaw clenched and eyes hardened at Lando's name, only nodding after. "You have my word."

She looks at him, her fingers playing with his hand once more.

"Are you in love with me?"

Her body is jolted forward in a harsh move, due to Max slamming on the brakes for a split second at her words. The tires are heard screeching as the car comes to a halt.

Y/N looks behind them, checking to make sure he didn't just accidentally brake-check someone. Taking the clear sign of no car honking behind him as the first hint, then seeing nobody was behind them for blocks.

She then whips her head over to Max, whose eyes are now wide with shock, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other is now clutching onto her waist for safety.

"So I'm guessing by the reaction you just had that it's true," she says slowly, watching his face contort into all sorts of emotions.

He stayed silent, Y/N seeing his Adam's apple bob a few times before he began to accelerate the car once again. "Max," she says. He stays silent still. "Max Emilian."

"You weren't supposed to find out. Not like this at least."

She frowns at his words. "Elaborate, please? When was I gonna find out?"

She watched as he pursed his lips before biting them every so often.

"Max if you don't start talking-"

"I didn't want you to find out. Not with everything fresh with Lando," he admits, shaking his head as he pulls the car into the apartment garage. "I didn't want you thinking I was taking advantage of you when I just wanted to be there, just as much as you are with me."

Her face softened, seeing that it really was making him feel guilty. Seeing that she had to find out amid everything she had been dealing with for the last few weeks.

Before she can ask him anything further, he puts the car in park and whips his door open before closing it with a slam.

She doesn't miss the way he still makes his way around the car to her side, opening her door softly as he helps her out. She could tell he was ready to murder the boys, but he kept his composure around her.

They walked up to her apartment quietly, the tension rising as they got closer to her door. Y/N practically being able to feel Max's frustration radiate off his skin. She unlocked her door, walking inside as he followed shortly after.

He shuts the door behind him before huffing, his eyes looking to see Y/N standing there with her arms crossed. Her expression basically begging for answers.

Max rubs his forehead. "I'm not getting out of this am I?"

"Begin niet, Max." (Don't start, Max.)

He could tell by her tone that this wasn't the time to joke.

The man lets out a sigh, letting his eyes gaze into her own across the room. "Yes," he chokes out. "I'm in love with you. So in love that it hurts my chest."

Y/N lets her stance somewhat falter, her arms uncrossing. "Oh Max," she softly answers, seeing the pain in his eyes. Like he felt guilty for telling her.

"I have since the day you stood up for me at the Go-kart championship with my dad," he chuckles dryly to himself. "It was that day I told myself this girl has some spark in her. Playing with fire with no remorse. She's it for me," he half-heartedly jokes, but meaning every word. "I'm in love with you to the point where all I care about seeing is you happy. Even if that's not with me."

Her brows furrow. "What?"

He shrugs in defeat. "When Lando came to me after your first date with him, I could tell he was good for you. Same with you for him. Yeah it hurt like a fucking scooter to the ankle, but you were happy. That's what I cared about," he explains. "So if you two decide to fix things, and it makes you happy, then I'll be okay with that. I'll still probably give him a run for his money every so often, but if that's what you want."

Y/N was about to speak up, but then he says one more thing to her.

"I didn't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you. Of stealing you away after what you went through. I'm better than that, but I didn't like seeing you not be yourself. I hated it and hated him for that. I wanted to be there giving you the support and tough love you needed to heal and make the right decision," he admits once more. "So if he's still it for you, then I'll live with that. He just better not ruin his chances again."

Y/N stays silent for a moment, just in case he had anything further to say, soon seeing he was finished. She kept her arms crossed.

"You know, I have been fighting with myself all week. About going back to Lando. Working things out," she starts. Max feels his heart beat faster every second that passes. "But then there were small things I noticed. From not just these past few weeks, but the last decade. Little things you've done, no questions asked."

He just keeps his gaze on her. "When I was on the phone with Charles today, I came to the realization of why I've always been picky with my relationships," she says, laughing dryly to herself. "Because they weren't you."

Max feels his mouth open just slightly, as if giving him the lightest breath of fresh air from her words.

"Liefje." (Darling)

She nods, more to herself as if confirming it to her mind. She had feelings for Max. She wanted Max.

"I can't promise to jump into things right now," she adds. "But it doesn't mean I'm not willing to try seeing where this goes with you. I really want to. More than I think I can admit."

Max smiles are her softly. "I can work with slow."

She smiles at him as he advances towards her. He cautiously wraps his arms around her waist, watching her soften into his touch instead of freezing or jolting at it.

It was a work in progress.

"Can I at least kiss you? Or is that too fast?"

"Kus me maar, jij zachtaardige reus." (Kiss me, you gentle giant) she chuckles, watching his smile grow slowly as he leans in.

He didn't waste a second longer

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A/N: Ahhh, that's part three! How're we feeling? What's the vibe for everyone? Satisfied? Lemme know, I'm intrigued hehe!!

She's a long one, but she is here! I hope you all enjoyed!

I may or may not have an alternate ending for Lando in the works?? What do we think??

Vote below ;)

See you soon, friends!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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[beabatoru]

10 things I hate about you pt. 2 ｡𖦹°‧ hockey player! gojo x reader

pt. 2/2

pairing ⊹ ࣪ ˖ college au - hockey player! gojo x reader

summary : after the events of the hockey game where you found out you were the centerpiece of a bet between the boy you grew to like and his hockey teammates, you now also have to struggle with family problems miles away with your father on the verge of passing. piles of hospital bills are stacking up and you have no idea how to pay them off and on top of that, gojo is still begging for your forgiveness.

warning / tags ⟢ fluff, angst, smut, college au, this fic is based on the film '10 things I hate about you', partial angst with readers father regarding sickness, reader is low income. gojo is very pathetic.

w.c : 1.8k

a / n . hello everyone ! I hope you all enjoyed the first part of this fic. sorry it took me a while to put the second part out I just wanted to make sure it lived up to your guy's expectations. I wanted to take this time to announce that I have opened an ao3. im still learning how to use it so if anyone has any tips please reach out !

his hugs were warm.

thats the first thing you noticed when he embraced you, watching as your tears stained his shirt but he didn't care. he was quiet allowing your sobs to fill the room. something told him that he didn't even have the right to comfort you like this, but he did it regardless.

"I never found a time to bring it up to you.." you said between broken sobs. he didn't ask why, just letting his cheek rest on top of your head inhaling the sweet scent from your shampoo. "i'm here now. i'm not going anywhere." part of you wanted to believe him. part of you did believe him. but the other part was reminding you of what he did.

you pulled back to look at him, seeing how he too was on the verge of tears and the way his long white lashes were damp. "...you lied to me." you whispered reminding yourself. "you dont get to say that you're here for me. not after you played around with my feelings." your voice broke out of its previous soft whisper making gojo's eyes widen a bit, still holding onto you. "you said I wasn't something to play around with but it turns out this was just a bet. that I was just a bet."

"it started off as that." he interrupted. "but god, it stopped the second I talked to you." you shook your head, not wanting to believe anything that came out of his mouth anymore. "you told me-" it was impossible to say anything else with the way your voice was trembling. "you told me I wasn't something to play with.." you repeated. "baby listen to me.." he begged but you refused.

"I don't think me ignoring your texts and calls were enough so I'll say it now, I don't want you around satoru. I don't want you in my life anymore."

"can you just let me explain everything?" he sighed, moving his hands to hold your shoulders lightly enough that if you wanted to leave, you could. he would never force something on you. he couldn't bring himself to ever hurt you again.

satoru’s breath caught in his throat. “i meant every word, even when i shouldn’t have,” he said. “the bet was real. i won’t lie to you about that, but what happened after? that was real, too. i swear it.”

"do you even know what a promise is anymore?" you reached to wipe your cheeks but he beat you to it. his thumbs softly wiped them away the second they left the eyes he fell deeply in love with.

"im not the girl who will forgive you just because you suddenly realize you care." you continued.

"ive always cared." he looked down at the letters in your hands, reaching out to grab one bringing it up to his face to read it. it was the one from the hospital. "you're not.. sick are you love?" he asked, afraid that you were the one dealing with a bunch of health problems. you shook your head. "its my dad.. he has cancer and... and his bills are expensive and he's in the hospital and I dont know what to do."

the bills were expensive.

there was multiple zeros right after that two. ".. you dont have the money." you shook your head, placing it back on his chest feeling how his hand rubbed your back.

the mail room meetup was yesterday. you've been stuck in your dorm looking through american airlines, seeing which flight was the cheapest to fly back home to possibly see your father for the last time. no, you shouldn't be thinking like this.

he was going to be okay. you'll go back, pay what you can, hell you'll drop out of university just to pick up as many jobs as you can. and then you'll make your father and brothers the blueberry pancakes they love so much and join in on the hockey games they play on the tv.

satoru has been quiet. he hasn't reached out and you figured he gave up in wanting to explain himself to you. maybe he gave up because he really didn't care as he said he did.

your laptop screen blurred for a moment as your eyes welled with tears again, but you blinked them away immediately, determined not to fall apart at least not until you booked the flight.

$387. one way. non-refundable. leaves tomorrow. at 11 am.

you couldn’t afford this flight. but you couldn’t afford to stay either.

you watched the cursor hover over the 'pay now' button before it pressed down on it. 'thank you for your purchase ! a confirmation email has been sent to you along with your ticket. thank you for choosing american airlines and have a safe flight.'

"you're leaving tomorrow?" miwa's small voice spoke out behind you. she's been the only thing keeping you from having a full breakdown with her soft words and how understanding she was. you felt guilty for leaving her.

"..yeah just for a bit. until things get sorted out. I'll hopefully be back before next week."

she nodded. "I'll help you pack then."

"no its fine-"

"im packing." she repeated.

you gave her a small smile before turning to look back at your computer staring at the same message before a new one popped up.

"thank you for your payment of $25,000 at kaiser permanente hospital." your eyes widened. 'no way, did they take out money from my account? I dont even have $25k?!' you thought before reaching for your phone, opening up the Bank of America app to look at your account. nothing. just the amount you spent for the plane ticket. $387.

it showed nothing about a hospital or 25 thousand.

was it a scam? no, that was the hospital your father was staying in. and it was dressed to your name and the sender address was real. you looked through papers and letters trying to find the bill you grabbed out of your mailbox yesterday. it wasn't here.

"is everything okay?" miwa asked walking over to the desk.

"the hospital bill.. its not here. the one I got yesterday of the amount I owe for my fathers stay at the icu.." it definitely wasn't with you. thats when it hit you. satoru grabbed it from your hands and he never returned it.

your fingers were already moving, looking through your contacts before finding "my sugar daddy"

it rang.

once.

and he picked up.

"hey.." his voice was soft. your lips parted aware that you were crying again. "toru.."

"mhm?"

"what did you do?"

there was a pause. you could practically hear him turning away from wherever he was, like he needed to find a quiet place just to breathe. "paid for you. forgot to ask you to send over the rest of the bills to pay them off."

"no.. no you already paid so much.. why, why would you do that satoru.."

"cuz I love you? because I want you back in my life and I want to meet your father and personally thank him for making such a beautiful daughter like you."

"...we've known each other for how long? a month yeah? a month is all I need to know that you're it for me. is it wrong for me to say that im thankful I took on that bet?" he chuckled. "to me you weren't a bet baby. everything about you felt raw. you kept rejecting me and god, that made me want you even more."

you didn't speak, allowing him to finish letting out his emotions. "and I hated myself for liking you, for falling for you like a fucking idiot. because it meant it wasn't a bet anymore, it was love. and I hated how I took that bet. I hated your stupid hair, and the way you made me have butterflies. I hated the music you listened to, your dorky smile. I hate the way your voice softens when you talk about the shit you like. I hate that I dont know every detail about you down to you favorite childhood movie. but.. I hate how I don't hate you at all. and I hate how I dont regret doing the bet at all, because otherwise, I wouldn't have met you."

you smiled at his confession. "you can't just fix this by paying for my fathers medical bills.."

"I know." he whispered.

"..and you lied to me." you continued, but at this point you were just playing with him.

"I did. but im not lying now. I stopped lying weeks ago."

"why?"

"because I fell in love with this really awesome girl. a girl I want by my side at all times. and a girl I really want to see right now. please, come over?..."

"yeah.. yeah ill be over."

"okay.. thank you."

you let out a shaky breath, a tentative hope flickering inside you. maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end.

miwa grinned as she saw you putting on your shoes to head out to his dorm.

"have fun!" she called out.

you reached the airport just in time with your luggage on one hand and satoru's warm hand on the other. "y'know this is my first time flying in like three years?" he whispered over to you.

"seriously? are you scared?" you teased.

he immediately shook his head. "not at all." but the way he was gripping your hand said otherwise. "glad you let me come with you.."

"well I think my family would like to meet the boy ive talked about and the one who took care of my fathers hospital bills."

"youve talked about me?"

"yeah when you lied to me."

"they're going to hate me."

you let out a breathy laugh, the sound reached his ears and it made him smile like a dork that has fallen for you all over again. you didn't let go of his hand once, not even when you were seated on the plane.

you didn't let go now, and maybe not for a while.

bonus

"so, you're the guy that broke my sisters heart." yuji stared down gojo at the dinner table. the white haired boy looked up with a mouthful of your blueberry pancakes. "I fixed it." he gulped down the food. "this is delicious love." he groaned reaching to grab the last pancake from the plate set in the middle of the table before it got snatched by yuji who stuffed it in his mouth while maintaining eye contact with gojo.

"you're right they hate me.." he whispered to you.

you shot yuji a look in which he only stuck his tongue out at you. "they'll grow to love you."

matt climbed over your lap to hand gojo half of his eaten pancake. "I think they already do" you whispered to him. he smiled, accepting the pancake from the little boys hand before placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

ending a / n . i completely raw dogged this in one sitting after seeing that 'part 2 of 10 things I hate about you' was winning. anyways i hope you all are satisfied with the ending ! I will continue to write little drabbles for 10tihay! gojo and reader, so if you have any ideas for that lmk ! ty for reading !

🏷️ @bakugouswaif @charlotterosea13 @levermilion @blackhawkfanatic @admmsatoru @einawnimie @k0z3me @cosmic-101

[mrs-delaney]

Teleport 2 Me

Joe Burrow x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k and some change

Request: I was wondering to get a Joe burrow imagine where his fiancé is planning a surprise with kid cudi for their wedding. Whether it is kid cudi singing their first dance song or singing her down the aisle towards to Joe. But she had to turn off her location so the surprise can work because Joe would see where she at if she was taking forever to come home.

Author's Note: I loved the concept of this request immediately! The idea of trying to coordinate one of Joe's favs like Kid Cudi while keeping it from someone as observant as he is? Pure disaster potential. I chose the first dance route with "Teleport 2 Me" because the lyrics about wanting to be close despite distance felt perfect for them.

Thanks to the anon who requested this - hope it lived up to what you were imagining! 🤍 I'm slowly but surely working through them I promise.

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You pulled into the driveway at 10:47 PM, which was later than you'd told Joe you'd be home. Again. Every light in the house was on—porch lights, upstairs lights, the whole first floor lit up. Joe's way of letting you know he was awake and waiting without saying it.

Probably watching film. 

Your phone buzzed with a text from Cudi's manager: Rehearsal tomorrow at 2. Can you make it?

Tomorrow Joe had meetings with his agent until 4, which meant you could easily make it and be home before he was. You typed back: I'll be there.

The front door opened before you could reach it.

"Long day?" Joe asked, stepping aside to let you in. His voice was casual, but you caught the way his eyes scanned your face, looking for something. Clues.

"The Kroger campaign is killing me," you said, which wasn't technically a lie. The Kroger campaign was killing you—it just wasn't why you'd been gone for twelve hours. "Sorry I'm so late."

Joe nodded, following you into the kitchen. "You eat?"

"Grabbed something at the office." Another lie. You'd eaten takeout at the recording studio while listening to Kid Cudi run through "Teleport 2 Me" for the third time, making sure it would be perfect for your first dance.

"You've never had to work Sundays before."

The comment was light, conversational, but you knew Joe well enough to hear the edge underneath. He was starting to notice patterns. Starting to ask the questions you'd been dreading.

"It's just until the wedding," you said, hating how easily the deflection came. "Then everything calms down."

Joe's laptop was open on the counter, some defensive scheme paused mid-play. He'd been waiting for you to get home. Had been waiting for hours.

"Come here," he said quietly.

You stepped closer, letting him pull you between his knees where he sat on the barstool. His hands settled at your waist, thumbs brushing against the fabric of your shirt.

"You sure you're okay? You've been..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Pulling away lately."

Your heart hammered against your ribs. Three weeks of this secret had you jumping at shadows, and Joe's ability to read people like a book wasn't making it any easier.

"I'm not pulling away," you said quickly, reaching up to touch his face. "I'm just stressed about work and the wedding and trying to get everything perfect for us. I love you. I can't wait to marry you. It's just... a lot right now."

That got a small smile out of him, but his eyes stayed concerned.

"3 more days," he said, like he was trying to convince himself everything was normal.

* * *

You'd been at the venue for three hours, watching Kid Cudi run through the acoustic arrangement of "Teleport 2 Me" while his sound engineer adjusted levels for the reception space. Your phone had been buzzing periodically with texts from Joe, but you'd kept it on silent, location services turned off. The last thing you needed was him seeing you were at the wedding venue when you'd told him you were staying late at the office.

How's the Kroger campaign going?

Want me to pick up dinner?

Call me when you're wrapping up

Each message made your stomach twist a little tighter. Five days until the wedding, and you were running out of believable excuses for these long absences.

"I think we've got it," Cudi said, setting down his guitar. "The acoustic version's going to be perfect for the first dance."

You smiled, finally allowing yourself to feel excited instead of anxious. "He's going to lose his mind. He has no clue."

"Good. That's what we're going for." He grinned. "Man, I can't wait to see his reaction. This is gonna be special." He stood up, stretching. "Same time tomorrow for final soundcheck?"

Tomorrow's rehearsal was scheduled for 2 PM again, right when Joe would be at his final suit fitting. Another narrow window to coordinate around his schedule.

"I'll be there."

The drive home felt longer than usual, your mind already crafting explanations for why you'd been unreachable for the past hour. Traffic. Difficult client. Phone on silent during a presentation. All technically possible, none of them true.

Joe's car was in the garage when you pulled in.

"Hey," you called as you walked in, dropping your purse on the counter. "Sorry, that meeting ran forever."

Joe looked up from his laptop, where he appeared to be reviewing some kind of contract. "No problem. How'd it go?"

"Good. Finally got the creative approved." The lie came easily now, which should have bothered you more than it did. "What time did you get home?"

"Around six." He closed the laptop, giving you his full attention. "Your location's been off all day."

The statement was casual, conversational, but something in his tone made you freeze. You forced yourself to look confused, pulling out your phone.

"What? Let me check..." You tapped through to settings, pretending to investigate while your heart hammered. "That's weird."

Joe was already pulling up his phone, fingers moving across the screen with practiced ease. "It's back on now," he said, turning the screen toward you. There you were, a little dot on the map in your kitchen.

You stared at it for a beat too long before responding. "Huh. That's weird. I didn't turn it off. Must be a glitch."

"Must be," Joe agreed, but his eyes stayed on your face.

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions. Joe had always been good at reading tells—it's what made him great at his position, the ability to see what defenses were really doing beneath the surface. And right now, you felt completely transparent.

"I'm going to shower," you said finally, needing to escape his analytical gaze.

"Yeah, okay." He reopened his laptop, but you could feel him watching as you headed toward the stairs.

In the bathroom, you leaned against the closed door and exhaled slowly. That had been close.  Joe wasn't stupid, and he definitely wasn't the type to let inconsistencies slide without eventually asking direct questions.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Cudi's manager: Tomorrow's rehearsal moved to 1 PM. Still work for you?

You typed back quickly: Perfect. See you then.

One more day. One more lie. And then Joe would understand why you'd been so secretive, why you'd been pulling away, why you'd been turning your location off and coming home exhausted from "work meetings" that made no sense.

When you came back downstairs twenty minutes later, Joe was still at the counter, but his laptop was closed again. He looked up as you entered the kitchen, and something in his expression had shifted.

"Everything okay?" you asked, though you weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer.

"Yeah," he said, but his tone suggested otherwise. "Just thinking."

About what, you wanted to ask, but didn't. Because you were pretty sure you already knew.

Joe stood, moving toward you with that measured way he approached everything when he was processing information. His hands found your waist, thumbs brushing against your sides.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" he said quietly. "If something's going on, if you're stressed about the wedding or work or... if you're having second thoughts, we can cancel everything right now and just do something you and me. Whatever you need."  The sincerity in his voice almost broke you. Here he was, offering you an out, a chance to come clean, and all you could do was lie to his face again.

"I know," you said, reaching up to touch his jaw. "I want this wedding, Joe. I want to marry you in front of everyone. It's just work stuff - I've been putting in extra hours because of all the time we're taking off for the honeymoon. I promise it'll calm down once we're back."

Joe nodded, but you could see he wasn't entirely convinced. His quarterback brain was filing away details, building a case, waiting for more evidence before making his move.

"Okay," he said simply, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I trust you."

The words hit like a punch to the chest. He trusted you, and you were lying to him 2 days before your wedding. For a good reason, but still lying.

"I love you," you said, meaning it more than you'd ever meant anything.

"I love you too."

But as he held you in the quiet kitchen, you could feel something shifting between you. A small crack in the foundation of trust you'd built together, one that you hoped would heal completely when he finally understood what you'd been doing.

2 more days. You just had to make it 2 more days.

* * *

You were running out of believable excuses, and Joe was running out of patience.

"I can come with you," he'd said that morning when you mentioned needing to run wedding errands. "Help carry stuff, keep you company."

The offer was sweet and completely normal, which made lying about it feel even worse.

"I'm just getting my nails done baby" you'd said quickly. "Rumi is coming with me. Girl time, you know?"

Joe had nodded, but something in his expression suggested he was filing that information away with all the other inconsistencies he'd been cataloging.

Now you were pulling into the driveway after three and a half hours at the venue, coordinating final details with Kid Cudi and his team. Your phone showed two missed texts from Joe:

Nails taking forever?

You good?

You'd responded with vague reassurances about the salon being busy, but as you walked toward the front door, you realized your hands looked exactly the same as when you'd left that morning.

Joe was in the kitchen when you walked in, laptop closed in front of him, arms crossed. The posture of someone who'd been thinking.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Good. They were super busy, but Rumi and I got to catch up." The lie felt heavier each time you told one. "Sorry it took so long."

Joe's eyes dropped to your hands, taking in your unchanged manicure with the same analytical precision he used to read defensive formations.

"It doesn't take three and a half hours to get your fucking nails done."

The statement hung between you, sharp and pointed. You looked down at your hands, realizing too late that your excuse had fallen apart before you'd even made it through the door.

"They were really backed up," you said weakly. "And we grabbed lunch after."

"Your nails look exactly the same as they did this morning."

There was frustration in his voice, that quiet anger that meant he was putting pieces together and didn't like what he was finding. You could practically see him building his case, the same way he processed information on the field.

Your phone rang before you could respond, Kid Cudi's manager's name flashing on the screen. The timing couldn't have been worse.

"I should take this," you said, already moving toward the sliding door to the backyard.

"At 8 PM? The night before our wedding?"

You were already outside, pressing accept before Joe could ask any more questions.

"Hey, Dennis," you said quietly, glancing back toward the house. Joe was still visible through the glass, watching.

"Just wanted to confirm timing for tomorrow," Dennis said. "Cudi will be there at six for final sound check. We've got the acoustic guitar ready, and he knows to stay hidden until the DJ calls him out."

"Perfect," you whispered, turning away from the house. "And he remembers—"

"Make sure Joe can't know until the moment, yeah. We've kept it secret this long, we're not blowing it now."

Relief flooded through you. Tomorrow night, all of this secrecy would finally make sense. Joe would understand why you'd been pulling away, why you'd been lying, why you'd been—

The sliding door opened behind you.

"I have to go," you said quickly, ending the call.

Joe was standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable in the dim porch light.

"Work call?" he asked as you walked back inside.

"Yeah, just... client thing."

"At eight PM. The night before our wedding." His voice was still level, but you could hear the edge creeping in. "About someone who can't know what?"

Your stomach dropped. "What?"

"I heard you. 'Make sure he can't know until...' and something about keeping secrets." Joe closed the sliding door behind you, his movements deliberate. "Who is 'he'? And what have you been keeping secret?"

The kitchen suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in as Joe's pale blue eyes stayed fixed on your face. This was it. The moment you'd been dreading for three weeks.

"It's not what you think—"

"Then tell me what it is." He stepped closer, and you could see the hurt starting to break through his controlled exterior. "Because from where I'm standing, my fiancée has been lying to me for weeks. Disappearing for hours, turning her location off, taking mysterious calls about keeping secrets from some guy."

"Joe—"

"You said you were getting your nails done, but they look exactly the same. You've been 'working late' every night for two weeks. Your location's been off more times than I can count." His voice was getting quieter, more controlled, which somehow made it worse. "So help me understand what I'm missing here."

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Every instinct screamed to tell him the truth, to end this nightmare and explain everything. But tomorrow was your wedding day. Tomorrow night, when Kid Cudi walked out with his guitar, Joe would understand. You just had to make it eighteen more hours.

"I can't," you said finally.

"You can't." Joe repeated the words like he was testing how they sounded. "You can't tell your fiancé what you've been doing or who you've been talking to."

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" The hurt was fully visible now, cutting through his usual composure. "Because I'm running out of explanations that don't involve you seeing someone else."

The accusation hit like a physical blow. "How can you say that? How can you think that about me?"

"What am I supposed to think?" Joe's voice cracked slightly. "You disappear for hours with bullshit excuses. You're taking secret calls about some guy who can't know something. You won't tell me what's going on." He ran a hand through his hair, the first sign of his legendary control slipping. "If you're having second thoughts about us, about the wedding, just tell me. Don't... don't do this."

"I'm not having second thoughts." The words came out fierce, desperate. "I love you. I want to marry you tomorrow more than I've ever wanted anything."

"Then tell me what's going on."

You stared at him, this man you loved more than breathing, watching him break apart because of your lies. Every fiber of your being wanted to explain, to take away the pain in his eyes, to make him understand that everything you'd done was for him.

"I can't," you whispered again.

Something shifted in Joe's expression then, shutting down like a computer going into safe mode. The hurt was still there, but buried under layers of protection.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I guess I'll figure it out eventually."

He moved past you toward the stairs, his shoulder brushing yours in the narrow space.

"Joe, wait—"

"I'm sleeping in the guest room tonight," he said without turning around. "And if there's someone else... if that's what this is... don't make me stand up there tomorrow. Just tell me now."

You listened to his footsteps on the stairs, heard the guest room door close with a soft click. The kitchen fell silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of your heart breaking.

Eighteen more hours. You just had to survive eighteen more hours, and then he'd understand. Then he'd know that every lie, every secret, every moment of distance had been because you loved him so much you were willing to risk everything to give him something perfect.

* * *

You didn't see Joe until you were walking down the aisle.

The morning had been a whirlwind of hair and makeup and your sister fussing over the bustle of your dress, everyone too busy to notice that you kept checking your phone for updates from Kid Cudi's team. The ceremony was at four, reception at six, and Cudi had already done his sound check that morning while you were getting ready. Everything was falling into place exactly as you'd planned for three weeks.

But first, you had to marry Joe.

When the music started and the doors opened, revealing the intimate garden ceremony you'd dreamed about, your breath caught. There he was, standing at the altar in his perfectly tailored navy suit, hands clasped in front of him, looking like he'd stepped out of a magazine. But it was his face that made your chest tighten.

The moment he saw you, everything shifted. The careful distance from this morning, the hurt from last night—all of it dissolved as his expression transformed into something soft and wondering. This was the Joe you'd fallen in love with, the one who looked at you like you were the only person in the world who mattered.

Your dad squeezed your arm as you reached the altar. "He's a good one," he whispered, placing your hand in Joe's.

"Hi," Joe said quietly, just for you, that slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Hi," you whispered back, and suddenly everything else faded away.

The ceremony passed in a blur of joy and laughter and tears. When it came time for vows, Joe's voice was steady and sure as he promised to love you through everything life threw at you, to be your constant in an unpredictable world, to choose you every single day for the rest of his life.

When you promised to be his safe place, his teammate, his biggest supporter, you meant every word. Even if you'd been lying to him for three weeks, even if he'd questioned everything last night, this moment was pure truth.

"You may kiss your bride."

Joe's hands framed your face as he kissed you, soft and reverent, and the small crowd erupted in cheers. When you broke apart, he pressed his forehead to yours.

"We did it," he murmured.

"We did it," you agreed, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt.

"I love you so much," he whispered, just for you, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too," you whispered back, and he kissed you again, softer this time.

The cocktail hour flew by in a haze of congratulations and photos and champagne. You caught Joe watching you during pictures, that little furrow between his brows that meant he was thinking.

"You okay?" you asked during a brief moment alone while the photographer adjusted lighting.

"Yeah," he said, reaching for your hand. "About last night—"

"After," you said quickly, squeezing his fingers. "Let's just enjoy this, okay? We'll talk about everything after."

Joe studied your face for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But we are going to talk."

"I know. I promise."

Dinner passed in a blur of toasts and laughter and the best food you'd ever tasted. Joe seemed more relaxed as the evening went on, falling back into his usual rhythm of dry jokes and quiet observations that made you laugh until your sides hurt. This was your husband now. Your husband, who had no idea what was coming.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the DJ's voice cut through the gentle chatter of your sixty guests, "it's time for our newlyweds' first dance."

This was it.

Joe stood immediately, extending his hand with that easy confidence that made everything look effortless. "Ready, Mrs. Burrow?"

The name still sent a thrill through you. "I'm ready, Mr. Burrow."

He led you to the center of the dance floor, his hand finding its familiar place at the small of your back, the other intertwining your fingers. Around you, chairs scraped as guests turned to watch, phones already appearing to capture the moment.

"Just like we practiced," Joe murmured, that slight smile playing at his lips. "Try not to step on my feet."

"That was one time," you protested, laughing despite your nerves.

"It was more than three," he corrected, grinning. 

The familiar banter steadied you, reminded you why this surprise would be perfect. Joe had no idea that his favorite artist was about to walk out and perform the song that had gotten you both through so many late nights and long separations.

"Before we begin," the DJ announced, "the bride has a very special surprise for her new husband."

Joe's hand tightened reflexively around yours, confusion flickering across his features. "What—"

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Kid Cudi."

The words seemed to hang in the air for a split second before Joe's expression shifted from confusion to complete shock. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again, his eyes widening as he stared at you like you'd just performed actual magic.

From the side of the reception space, Kid Cudi emerged with an acoustic guitar, moving toward the simple stool and microphone setup that had appeared during dinner. The intimate crowd erupted in surprised murmurs and scattered applause, but Joe didn't seem to hear any of it.

He was staring at you like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"You didn't," he breathed, voice barely audible over the growing excitement from your guests.

"I did," you whispered, watching his face cycle through shock, understanding, and something that looked close to tears.

Kid Cudi settled onto the stool, adjusting the guitar across his lap. When he spoke into the microphone, his voice was warm and genuine: "This is for Joe and his beautiful wife Y/N. Congratulations, man."

Joe's composure—that legendary calm that stayed intact under fourth-quarter pressure—finally cracked. His jaw worked for a moment like he was trying to find words that didn't exist, his hand squeezing yours tighter like he needed to feel something real.

"All those late nights," he said slowly, pieces clicking into place with almost audible precision. "The meetings that didn't make sense. Your location being off."

You nodded, thumb tracing over his knuckles. "I really hated lying to you."

"All those meetings." His voice carried that quiet amazement he got when he finally understood how a play was designed to work. "You were planning this with him."

"For weeks," you confirmed. "Planning this. Making sure it was perfect."

The opening guitar notes of "Teleport 2 Me" filled the space, gentle and acoustic and impossibly intimate. When Cudi's voice joined the melody, singing the words that had meant everything to you both —

Gettin in from the airport

You're gettin in from your study group

The only thing missing at this point is bonafide chillin time with you

Joe's carefully controlled expression finally shattered completely.

"Baby," he managed, voice thick with emotion. "You brought him here. For us."

"Don't cry at our wedding," you whispered, reaching up to catch the tear before it fell, even though your own eyes were burning.

He laughed, the sound watery and incredulous. "Don't cry? You coordinated with Kid Cudi to sing our song at our wedding. I think crying is pretty reasonable right now."

You started to sway as the music swelled, Joe pulling you closer than you'd practiced, needing you against him while he processed the magnitude of what you'd done. Cudi's voice wrapped around you: 

I want you girl and I need your body right here

Won't you teleport to me

I want you girl and I need your body right here

Won't you teleport to me

"This song," Joe murmured against your temple, "when I first played it for you..."

"When you were in Miami for a game," you finished. "And you said you wished you could just teleport home to me."

"I can't believe you remembered that. I can't believe you did this."

"I remember everything about you, Joe Burrow."

As the song continued, Joe caught sight of your families watching. His mom was crying, his dad had that proud smile he wore during big games. Your parents looked stunned and delighted. But mostly, he was aware of this moment—of Cudi singing —

A moment of loneliness and I can't close my eyes

Without you by my side

While he held his wife, finally understanding why you'd been so stressed, so secretive, so careful about keeping this surprise intact.

"I thought..." Joe started, then stopped, jaw tightening slightly.

"What?" you asked, pulling back to see his face properly.

"Last night, I thought you were..." He couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't even say the words out loud now that he knew the truth.

Your heart broke a little. "Joe, no. Never. This—" you gestured subtly toward Cudi, toward the impossibility of what you'd pulled off "—this is how much I love you."

When the song reached its emotional peak—

Hey, hey 

Teleport to me

Right here

Won't you teleport to me baby

Joe spun you gently, bringing you back against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said into your ear, voice rough with emotion. "I'm so sorry I doubted you."

"You had every reason to," you replied. "I was being shady as hell."

"For this," he said, like he still couldn't quite believe it. "You were being shady to surprise me with Kid Cudi at our wedding."

"Worth it?" you asked as the song began to wind down.

Joe's answer was the way he kissed you—soft, grateful, overwhelmed—while their families and friends exploded into applause around them.

"So worth it," he murmured against your lips. "Best surprise of my life."

As the guitar notes faded into silence, Joe looked toward Kid Cudi, who was standing from the stool. Without hesitation, Joe crossed the few steps to him, pulling him into a genuine embrace.

"Thank you," Joe said, and everyone close enough could hear the emotion in his voice. "That was... thank you."

"Your wife's pretty special," Cudi replied, grinning. "She's been planning this for months. Wouldn't let me mess up a single detail."

Joe looked back at you, still standing in the middle of the dance floor, watching him with that soft smile that had made him fall in love with you in the first place.

"Yeah," he said, voice carrying that quiet certainty that defined everything important in his life. "She really is."

[friedcheesemogu]

I was summoned, and so I appear.

It's no secret that I'm an absolutely shameless whore for William Brandt. Much of the time when I look at the "William Brandt" tag most of the recent posts I see are mine, and I get it. He's been gone three movies now, and a lot of people on tumblr.com really don't like him for some reason. But if he has many defenders, I am one of them. If he has one defender, it's me. If he has no defenders, I'm dead.

I wrote a whole little TED talk about this little bitch.

What I haven't written so far is my immense feelings about his relationship to/with Ethan, and believe me, if you thought that sub in "Final Reckoning" was down deep, you're gonna need a high pressure submersible to find the bottom of my emotions here.

(Also I'm sorry, I can't call him "Brandt" for the duration of this post, he's tattooed way too close to my crotch for me to not use his first name.)

Let's talk about Will and Ethan. I'll break this into two parts:

AS A GENERAL WORKING RELATIONSHIP

Yes, they should have explored this relationship more, because it's *fascinating.* Ethan ruined this man's life. He needs to own that, probably more than he does. BUT. If Will reminds Ethan of how his marriage failed, that is on Ethan. It was Ethan's choice to try to have his cake and eat it too, and Ethan's fault that he couldn't. The fact that he left Will behind to take the fall is one of the cruelest, most selfish things Ethan does in the entire series, but he is entirely forgiven for it, while Will gets treated as an asshole for maybe not having the best day ever after being dragged into another Ethan-based mess.

I think the idea that Will is a symbol of what Ethan hates about the IMF is not entirely true, because obviously Ethan has relied on that bureaucracy in the form of the GP Secretary to have freedom to do what he wants (stage a cover-up, let him dick around in Russian prison). If anything, Will is a symbol of what Ethan *can't* do for IMF. Because as we see, you can take the agent out of the field, but you can't take the agent out of the man. Will can do something Ethan can't other than in pretend: Will can walk in two worlds. Will can play the nice bureaucrat while subverting the system. Will can speak to the top and seem genuine while actually giving Ethan protection and information. And he's so good at it that even Ethan, whose hobby is reading people, can't initially clock him. That he does at all is only because Will drops the mask -and does it for Ethan's benefit.

One of the things I see a lot on here is how much Ethan dislikes Will, and to that I can't help but say, you think Will wants to be there? He has every right to not cooperate, to drag his feet and change from little bitch into actual raging giant bitch, and he doesn't. He helps. He is the only person who could have caught Ethan when he was falling. He's also completely valid in thinking that what he's being asked to do is difficult, scary, and pretty insane.For some reason, that gets him cast as "everyone's least favorite coworker." I don't think the fact that he's the only person on any team willing to say "your ideas are bad and you should feel bad" is a terrible thing, because frankly someone has to. The team needs a little bitch to round out the "yes, and!!" improv nature of everyone else. It's cute and funny when Benji is nervous, when he nearly blows it in the Kremlin, but when Will is hesitant, well fuck that guy.

Ethan *does* trust him with his life, and he should, because one of the things I harp on endlessly is that WILLIAM BRANDT ALONE guards Ethan at the beginning of RN. Luther quit, Benjis played Halo. Will was sending Ethan tips and in the room with Hunley, aware of plays on both sides, and keeping the balance. That is his ultimate strength, and he does it knowing that he owes Ethan nothing -if anything, Ethan owes him several times over. That's dedication to his team and to the job, and something worth admiring; instead he gets Luther's derision and the fandom's dislike.

Why is that? Like @prahelika says, Ethan of all people knows what it's like to be a little bitch and try to do the right thing while everyone yells at you. Is it because he's not sweet like Benji? Because he's not cool like Luther and Ilsa? Because he can't slay a green dress like Jane? Will is the person most like Ethan in terms of skill, strength, and intelligence, and yes they "inherited" him but had they not, they would have been screwed and Ethan would be a Dubai pancake. He's as essential as anyone else.

I believe Ethan sees that Will is his foil, what could happen to him if he couldn't "walk it off," and that he comes to appreciate and respect that. We have no idea what goes on between them from GP to RN, but I can't believe they never talk, I can't believe never checks in with the only other person who knows that Julia is alive (aside from Luther, but who knows when Ethan told him).

I wish Will was in Fallout, and not just to be killed. I think his position in the team is so unique and interesting and I will crave more of it forever.

Now here's the part that will make me unpopular with the MI fandom on tumblr.com.

AS A PERSONAL RELATIONSHIP

I love Will/Ethan, Ethan/Will, Brandt/Ethan, Bundt, whatever you want to call it. They are one of my all-time ride-or-die pairings. I will go down with this ship and I will live at the bottom of the ocean eating dead whales and partying with the tube worms, evolving into something eldritch and teethy. And then I will rise... but anyway.

I think they work in this life, but since all shipping is technically AU, well, I think they work in other lives too.

I think they're fascinating to each other: the man who was destroyed by the job and the man who won't let himself be destroyed. I think Ethan is very surprised by this person who is suddenly revealed to be his mirror, and because he's naturally curious, he'd want to know more, observe more. As for Will, Ethan is a nearly mythical figure in his life, and for him to suddenly have him real, in front of him, to be forced to deal with the person who turned his world upside down... well Will is obviously an analytical slut, so of course Ethan is going to get his wheels turning (in all ways). A long time ago I read a comment or author note, I can't remember, where someone said they thought Jeremy Renner played Will as already being somewhat in love with Ethan and I can absolutely see that (I can point you to some good fics on that theme if you're interested. No? Okay).

I think they both inherently understand that they each provide something the other lacks: for Will, Ethan's drive and willingness to face the unknown. For Ethan, Will's grounded pragmatism. That they're both stubborn is difficult, yes, but it's not necessarily a roadblock - I've talked to friends about how arguing is probably a kind of foreplay to them, because no one is going to match their little bitch energy (or enjoy it) in the same way as the other.

I also think they're beautiful together. When they're in sync they're seamless. Ethan's heat and Will's coldness; Ethan's tendency toward action and Will's toward thought. Maybe it's better if Will isn't there in later movies because they'd be too powerful together.

I get that I'm one voice in an already small pairing. I think I know everyone on the site that currently loves/d them and they're all in my DMs (although if I'm wrong, feel free to let me know!). Believe me I see Bethan. I see Ethan/Ilsa. I adore Julia. They're all good ships and they all deserve love! But they'll never draw me in like the way Ethan and Will look at each other like they want to fight each other with their mouths.

And I mean, there's literally no reason for them to look each other up and down and then Ethan to give "you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine" the sultriest line delivery until the horny sub.

I have a whole fic about what Will thinks of/about Ethan and how he deals (or doesn't deal) with it.

But yeah.

TL;DR I love William Brandt, I love Ethan Hunt, and I love their relationship, however you define it. I wish we had more of it. Just don't try to tell me there's nothing but acrimony between them.

Oh right and I have a huge thigh tattoo for them, so I'm in this for life.

they really should have explored the brandt/ethan relationship more. like, hey, i probably ruined your career with a murder that wasn't even real so you got traumatised for nothing. also you remind me of how i couldn't save my marriage. you're also currently a bureaucrat, symbolising everything i hate about my organisation. but i know you've got my back. you try your best to deal with unfair situations where everyone yells at you, and you're a little bitch about it. don't i know how that feels. i trust you with my life. i don't think we'll ever be close. in another life we'd have worked well together. but. anyway. this conversation never happened, brandt. see you in 6 months.

[sleepyjackets]

squeaky clean 🫧

pairings: toxic se-mi x reader

summary: you enter the squid games after being down on your luck yet you find yourself facing more bad luck when your ex finds you there with her

tags/warnings: smut, some angst, toxic!se-mi, fingering, public sex, p0rn with plot, dirty talk, ex girlfriend, se-mi is high key a manipulator

a/n: i wrote this a while back and revised it since season 3 is out and this fandom is finally alive again 🥳

If there was one person you could trace all your current problems back to it was her.

Some sketchy guy in a suit had offered you money to play dalgona with him on the subway. Which you didn't think twice before saying yes because you'd do anything for money after being down on your luck for the past few months. Whose fault was this?

Se-mi.

You two had dated for almost 3 years and moved in together. She convinced you to quit your job once she proposed. But you later found that she was cheating on you with your own best friend. She's always been a dirtbag but she was a loveable dirtbag whose many flaws you were blind to by choice (atleast for the first 2 years). Besides the cheating she was just not a good partner whatsoever but god was she so good making you feel like this relationship was actually good for you. Se-mi would make jokes about gaslighting you but it never dawned on you that she was doing that exact thing.

After moving out you essentially had no money. Your only option was to pick up 3 different jobs and work yourself to death until you joined these games.

After waking up you looked around trying to figure out how the hell you got here from that cramped bus. When you turn your head the first thing you see is the person you hold the most hate for in your heart.

Oh fuck me.

You run up to her and grab her arm, whispering in her ear harshly.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

She turns around and smiles that same enchanting smile that makes you forget how much you want to scream in her handsome face.

"Same reason you're here," She says with a small smile while her eyes drag over your frame with no shame. That's just Se-mi, If there was one word to describe her it would be shameless. While you're stuck in your thoughts you hear a laugh that's way too familiar and immediately snap back.

"You're here, I'm here, we should work together" She steps a little closer

"Did you just forget or something?" You ask with pure disbelief

"No but I'd like to believe that the past is the past you know? Brighter pastures ahead baby" She reaches her hand towards your cheek and you slap it away.

"Don't touch me. Or even speak to me." Your voice is hushed for the most part but towards the end you raise it

"You came up to me, sorry for assuming you were willing to put the past aside" She raises her hands in fake surrender

"That's it that's what you do. You make me feel like shit for not putting up with you and your weird little mind games" You're finally yelling at her the way you've wanted to yell at her for months.

"I'm not trying to fuck with your head baby, I'm not smart enough for that"

Then she just walks away. You know exactly what she is trying to do and you're falling for it in the same way you have many times before. She points out some bullshit insecurity she doesn't even have then makes you feel like an asshole for "enabling" her problems. You know her all too well but still let yourself feel like shit because of her.

*+:｡.｡

That night you're tossing and turning. The first game is tomorrow morning and guilt is eating you alive. Amidst your tossing and turning you spot Se-mi going to the bathroom and jump up running after her.

Once you're in the bathroom you walk up to her grabbing her shoulder and turning her around

"I'm sorry for blowing up on you earlier, how can I make it up to you?"

You blurt out without thinking all too much.

"You're apologizing that's new. But I guess I'd feel better if you agreed to be my partner" She smirks the same smirk you'd have if you won a game of uno not if you manipulated your ex into playing children's games with you.

"Yes of course anything else?" God you feel so pathetic

Se-mi grabs your arm gently tugging you towards her and kissing around your neck and collarbones. In between kisses she mumbles "I want things back how they used to be is all"

You laugh a little bit and let her set you with your back against the wall. Se-mi peppers kisses down your chest until she reaches your titties. She unzips your jackets and throws it aside. Her hands gropes your tit and kisses the other over your shirt. "No bra that's bold even for you"

Her hands lift up your shirt but she doesn't take it off instead opting for just holding it up. Her lips clasp around your nipple and while she's sucking she glances up at you with desperation in her eyes. But not desperation for you, desperation to win. Win what? You're not quite sure.

A moan shudders out of your mouth and you gently run your hand over her hair. Se-mi takes it upon herself to start sliding down your pants while kissing down your stomach. Se-mi's always loved eating you out because it gave her a chance to see you undone and vulnerable. As much of an asshole she was Se-mi always made sure the sex was focused on you. It was her way of reassuring you that she did care to an extent.

Once her lips make their way down her warm breath ghosts over you cilt before she sets her thumb over it and presses down a little.

"That feel good?" She says before blowing a little air over your cilt

"Jesus Se-mi" You look down a little shocked at her rather unique way of teasing you but you're not mad

"That's a yes I assume" She says before shoving her tongue into your folds. She gently presses two fingers up your pussy to keep her hands occupied. Your head tilts back while a strangled moan leaves your lips, all too familiar for you too. One hand slips through her hair pushing her face in deeper while Se-mi just let herself get lost in you.

She ups the speed of her fingers while pulling her mouth away glancing up at you like a teasing puppy. "Cum for me ok?" She says, moving to use her free to gently rub your thigh.

"Yes ok ok" You nod your head knowing you didn't have much control over this to begin with. When Se-mi adds another finger you finally loose all ability to hold back and spew all over Se-mi's fingers. She pulls her digits out and licks them with a sly smile. By the time she's back on her feet you're still a sweaty panting mess, it's pathetic compared to her messy perfection.

She kisses your cheek before turning the water on to wash her hands. You know it's the logical thing to do after fingering someone but you're still a little insulted by the notion that you're something she can just wash off.

Se-mi glances over and knows exactly what's on your mind because you two have had this exact argument about 4 times before. Her hand cradles your cheek while she mutters

"You made it up to me."

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 08.

ꕥ part 01. | part 02. | part 03. | part 04. | part 05.| part 06. | part 07. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, kinda graphic description of the crime, swearing, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, moderately jealous Spencer, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, if there are other warnings or tags i should add let me know ꕥ word count: ~2.5k ꕥ small author's note: hiiii guys! i know that i said my next published fic will be a sapphic Emily Prentiss one (and that is still coming, i promise), however, things happened and i'm back in my Bucky Barnes obsession era. so i posted a fanfic with him. feel free to check it out if you'd like to, i hope you'll enjoy it ^-^ ꕥ small author's note 2: i also created a small navigation post for my page/works to make it a bit easier for everyone :3 ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

wednesday

“So, bear with me please guys.” you murmured while you typed in what you were looking for. “There is a chance that my theory is off- “

“Well, with you there is always a chance of that.” chimed in who else, if not the residential asshole. Annoying little prick.

“I’d heavily advise you to reconsider who you’re messing with when you cannot even use your damn chopsticks properly, doctor.” with your narrowed eyes, you pointed at his pretty hands while he clumsily tried to work some miracle with his Chinese takeout. This seemed to be working, since Reid pressed his lips together and remained silent.

“As I said, there is a chance that my theory is off, still, I’d like to share it with you, in case it helps the investigation.” You said, anxiety slightly building up in you. One of the most hated parts of this job for you was presenting, whether in front of the team or a whole precinct. However, professionality quickly came over you, as if it was switched on. “Selkies are creatures of Nordic and Celtic mythology. The origin of the word comes from Scots, meaning seal, and they’re often associated with the Northern Isles of Scotland. It is said that they live freely in the seas as seals but occasionally come to land where they shed their animal skin to bask in the warmth and light, then, when they decide that it’s time to head back to the sea, they put their seal skin back on and disappear into the waves. In folklore, they’re often depicted as beautiful and charming women, and if a human man finds the skin of a selkie while they’re on the shores and steal it, they can force the selkie into marrying them, causing the selkie to be resentful and unhappy, because they’ll always long for the sea. If they’re lucky, they can steal back their skin and make a run for it.”

“I’m not saying that this is unrelated but how exactly did you connect the dots?” after a few silent seconds, your boss cleared his throat and leaned forward on his seat.

Warmness spread across your cheeks and ears as you realised you only told half of what you wanted originally. “Ah yes, sorry I left that out. So, at first, I only had an inkling. Even as a child, I loved mythology from all over the world, and I spent a lot of time learning about the different creatures and their stories. When we got introduced to the case, the selkie was the first thing that came into my mind, but I found it a bit silly, so I didn’t say anything. However, I couldn’t shake this weird feeling and asked Garcia to investigate the victim’s marital backgrounds, looking for anything that’d indicate problems.”

“And?” Emily curiously raised her eyebrows while silently calculating which sushi should be left as the last, most fulfilling bite.

“The second victim was in marriage counselling a few years ago but they stopped showing up according to the reports. The first victim was seeing a private therapist, which could mean anything, of course, but there might be a connection.”

After some thinking, Hotch decided to split the unit into three. JJ, and Morgan will investigate this as if they’re looking for an extreme animal rights or a climate change activist who’s trying to make a statement, Rossi, Emily and he will remain in the station and take the statements of the husbands and relatives of the victims, and finally, you and Reid will start investigating your selkie theory. Before anyone asks, Reid volunteered to be on your team. According to him, he wants to see you set yourself up for failure. To be honest, you didn’t quite understand this. If he wanted to prove you wrong and take the win for this case when the team eventually solves it, he should be on the opposite, investigating and proving the activist theory, not yours. This way, he had significantly less chance of taking the point for this in your imaginary ‘solved case race’.

Now, you were sitting next to him, finally relaxed enough to eat your reheated noodles. The others headed out a few minutes ago, it was just the two of you. He couldn’t eat as fast as the others since he wasn’t as skilled with the chopsticks and refused to back down, but it was obvious that he became more and more frustrated. As always, when he couldn’t exactly figure something out, it bothered him. You glanced at his long, slender fingers and mentally let out a sigh before opening your mouth.

“Khm… Would you like some help?”

“Help?” he looked up at you, his brows slightly furrowed, to which you just pointed at the wooden sticks between his unsteady fingers. “Ah, no. I’m okay.”

“Mmm, I can see. There is nothing wrong with admitting that you’re not good at something. You can always try getting better.” There was no use in denying how much you enjoyed this. With his free hand, Spencer moved a straying wavy lock out of his face, which was one of his stalling tactics, you noticed this early on.

To be honest, he was quite pissed at himself for still not being able to eat with those damned utensils. He made a fool of himself in his rookie days when Gideon was still in the team, and they celebrated a closed case in that dimly lit Chinese restaurant. It was childish but he got so mad at the inanimate objects that he avoided using them ever since. Today was an unfortunate day

“Fine, help me.” he murmured. It was barely audible, but you definitely heard it, and while he was looking anywhere but at you, a winner grin spread across your face.

“Okay, follow my instructions, doc.” you clapped your hands together excitedly and scooted a bit closer to him. Cute, thought Spencer. “So, there are many ways to use chopsticks but the easiest, in my honest opinion is…”

While you explained to him the way you first figured out how to eat with the utensils, he could’ve sworn your eyes were sparkling. This was such a mundane thing, but you were definitely in your element, which looked good on you. Before he noticed it, your enthusiasm made him smile and he got swept up in the moment. His eyes gently explored your face, starting from your eyebrows to your eyes, your nose, your lips, where he stopped for a few seconds and instinctively licked his own, then lifted his gaze back to your eyes. This came so naturally, so involuntarily, as if he never had any problem with maintaining eye contact.

“Now you try it.”

Oof, he might have fucked things up a bit by getting distracted, he realized. This was one of those rare moments when he knew, he didn’t really have the upper hand and had no idea how to smoothly recover. This wasn’t the first time when he went dumb in your company, and he knew he’ll have to do something about it, possibly in the near future.

“Uhm…” his confused look almost made you chuckle.

“Can I?” you pointed at his hands. It was one thing that recently he became bolder with physical contact, still, you wanted to make sure he was comfortable with touching. After he nodded, you reached forward, ignoring your heart that was beating like a war drum in your chest. This was a perfectly normal thing to do with your co-worker. If there was literally any other member in that goddamned chair instead of Reid, you would’ve been fine. You had to do something about your inability to function on 110% when you were in his company, and you had to do it quickly.

Your gentle touch and overall proximity caused his breath to hitch for a short moment, but you were too deep in your head to notice it, to his luck. You carefully moved his fingers, placed the chopsticks in their places and explained once again how to move them.

He caught himself getting distracted by your smell, your voice, your looks, by you again. He had to stop this, stop himself or this will turn awkward really quick. So, he practically forced himself to listen and learn, as he should’ve done a few minutes ago.

A few hours later you and Spencer were walking towards the black SUV in the garage of the modern, quite possibly overprized medical centre. You decided to start your investigation at the private therapist of Ruby, the first victim, with little to no success.

“The next person that says HIPAA today will get their asses beaten, I’m being so fucking serious right now.” to this, the man on left let out a soft chuckle. Before you could’ve said anything else, the genius’s phone rang.

“Hey Garcia,” he greeted the person at the other end of the line. “Got it, we’ll head there right now.”

“What is it?” you asked as you got into the characteristically FBI vehicle.

“Sarah Moore’s husband didn’t show up at the precinct and there is no way of contacting him.”

After circa fifteen minutes, you pulled up to the Moore family’s driveway. Both of you got your badges ready but didn’t pull your guns out just yet. You didn’t want to scare or agitate the man.

“Jeremy Moore, FBI!” Reid’s loud, confident, demanding tone sent shivers down your spine. He looked so hot like this. “FBI, open up!”

The absence of any reaction meant you had to do this the hard way. Where is Derek when you need him? Since the entrance door had little decorative windows on the side, Spencer took down his suit, wrapped around his right fist and smashed the glass. What was in that damn Chinese takeout that suddenly made him so… woah. Better yet, what was in your Chinese takeout that suddenly made you notice every little thing he did.

Now, with your firearms in your hands, you entered the silent house. After securing the whole place, which was entirely empty, it was time for investigating. The power was cut, covering the rooms in darkness so you had to use your flashlights, which always annoyed you a bit, you felt restricted in a way.

While you went through the Moore’s stuffs in the living room, Spencer decided to uncover any possible secrets the kitchen might have held. What you first noticed was there weren’t any family photos. The room felt artificial. By what you were able to tell in the dim light, it looked like those fake photos on the covers of home decoration magazines. Fireplace in the middle of the left wall, piano in the upper right corner, huge beige couches and armchairs, a fluffy rug, a huge television and some decorative bookshelves. But nowhere anything personal.

“Y/N,” Spencer called your name, to which you peaked out from the living room. With his fingers, he gestured, calling you closer. When you walked up to his side, he pointed at the kitchen sink. “Look.”

There, in the silver, modern sink was a built-in garbage disposal unit, which was surrounded by dried blood and pieces of torn skin and flesh.

“What the…” you murmured and raised your flashlight, looking for any other signs of violence. Other than what you’ve found, everything else looked perfectly intact. “I’ll call Hotch, don’t go anywhere.”

“Where would I…?”

Half an hour later the property was filled with members of the FBI, CSI and the local police force. So much so that even the infamous Chief Miller decided to grace you with his time. Awesome. You could tell by Hotch’s and Emily’s face how annoyed they were already. You were guessing that the freshly appointed man didn’t make their jobs easier back at the precinct.

“Chief Miller, these are my agents, SSA Y/N L/N and Doctor Spencer Reid.” You got introduced by your boss while Emily and Rossi decided to join the CSI guys. The man in front of you was tall, obviously well-built, with a very authoritative presence. His wavy black hair had some straying grey in it, and you had to admit it, it complimented his tanned skin and deep brown, almost black irises.

“Nice to meet you.” you nodded but refrained from shaking hands, just like the man on your right.

“How are we discovering this just now?” asked Miller without greeting, which was already a bad start for you.

“Because we just got here? Moore didn’t show up to give his statement, so we came here to check in as soon as we got informed about it.” you answered, not taking his accusative tone well.

“This should’ve been the first thing you do after discovering the body.”

“With all due respect, sir, we weren’t even on the case when the victim was discovered. If anything, it should’ve been your men’s responsibility to contact the husband as quick as possible.” Seems like Spencer didn’t appreciate his tone either. Fake, polite smiles sat on your lip while you were trying to behave. Maybe you were more defensive because you knew beforehand that Miller will be a pain in your ass and in your mind, you already saw him as a threat or an obstacle. But it was surprising how fast Reid snapped back.

Around here, you decided that it’d be for the best if you excused yourself and joined up with the others. At times like this, you were glad that you weren’t in a leading position. Your sense of justice and slight problem with authority would make you unemployed faster than an affair scandal.

Prentiss and Dave were squatting in front of the cabinet with the sink and were working on disassembling the outlet to check if there are any human remains left in it.

“I can tell he doesn’t really believe in what we do.” said Emily.

“Oh wow, if I had a fucking penny for each time we were invited in on a case where the local police force thought this, I could retire.” you groaned and rolled your eyes.

When Rossi took the components apart, thickened blood and clumps of remains filled the empty bucked placed under the pipe. You didn’t notice, but from the other side of the room, Reid silently kept his eyes you. When your only reaction was a quiet hum and slightly raised eyebrows, he got reminded of the fact that he still was nowhere near close figuring you out.

A few minutes later another crime scene was discovered, this time in the storm shelter that was hidden away at the far end of the property, that’s why you and Spencer haven’t discovered it when you secured the place. The small, underground room looked like as if it was painted red by the amount of blood that got spilled there. You were more than sure that you found where Sarah Moore spent the excruciating end of her life.

thank you again for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! i hope it isn't a problem that this fic is getting longer, i'm just taking slow burn seriously (only thing i can do lmao) taglist: @halfbloodwriter @starrystormwritings @kspencer34 @maisyyyyyy @theseerbetweenus @throwaway-things @pleasantwitchgarden divider from @cafekitsune gif from @reidgif

[steddieas-shegoes]

something to remember me by

for @domstevemonth prompt 'marking'

i only found out about this event like two days ago so i'm sorry this is short and rushed, but next year i will do more!

rated e | 775 words | no cw | tags: dom steve, sub eddie, rock star eddie, established relationship, biting, bruises, crying

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Eddie’s leaving for tour tomorrow. He’ll be gone for three weeks before Steve can join him.

Three weeks without each other.

It’s the longest they’ve gone since the Upside Down stuff happened, and neither of them are looking forward to it. As excited as Eddie is for finally being able to go on a “real” tour and as excited as Steve is for him, they can only focus on the negative right now.

That’s why Eddie’s under Steve in their bed, arching up into him every time his lips graze a new spot. Steve’s been licking sweat from his body for a while, occasionally brushing soft, barely there kisses against a scar or freckle. They’ve both been hard for long enough that it’s starting to hurt, at least for Steve.

Every once in a while, their dicks rub together, and both of them let out gasps and moans. It’s dry friction, almost painful, but it’s friction all the same. Steve doesn’t like to show how worked up he gets when Eddie’s so pliant under him, not at first. He likes the buildup, the desperation being one-sided until it’s not. He likes making Eddie beg for more out loud, an echo of his own selfish thoughts in his head.

His teeth are aching to bite into his skin, to leave him so marked up no one will even question if he belongs to someone. He wants to make it obvious that he’s missed, that he’s Steve’s.

He starts on his neck, right at the set of freckles at his pulse point. Eddie lets out a high pitched yelp, one hand coming up to rest on the back of Steve’s head.

“Yeah, yeah, more,” Eddie gasps as Steve’s teeth nearly draw blood. “More, baby, please.”

Eddie bruises so easily, he knows this will be dark and purple for days.

He gives him more, bites down his throat, sucks a bruise on his collarbone that has both of them moaning.

When he pulls away for a breath, he admires his work.

“Beautiful,” he says under his breath. Eddie’s always beautiful, but there’s something different about the shine of the sweat and spit on his skin, the red and purple forming into undefined shapes. He glows differently when Steve marks his territory. “Mine.”

Eddie used to hate that, the way Steve claimed him like a possession. He didn’t understand at first that it had nothing to do with Steve seeing him as less than him, or just an object he can do whatever he wants with. It’s always been about having Eddie as an extension of himself, someone to love and care for.

“Yours,” Eddie agrees, nodding as Steve marks up his chest with temporary imprints of his teeth and nips red marks into the scars littering his skin. “Yours forever.”

“Mhm.” Steve kisses his side, right over the worst scars, the ones that are an angrier version of Steve’s. “I love you.”

The words seem to remind them of what’s coming in the morning. Both of them pause. Steve looks up at Eddie with a sad smile, a mirror image of the way Eddie’s looking down at him.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and come with me now?” Eddie asks quietly, not for the first time.

“You know I can’t,” Steve answers. “But you won’t miss me too much.”

“Yes I-”

Steve shuts him up by biting his nipple, laughing when Eddie yelps. “I’m giving you plenty to remember me by. We’ll talk on the phone every night. And you’ve got the plug packed up for after shows.”

Eddie whines. “But you won’t be there.”

“In three weeks, I will. And until then, you’ll have plenty of bruises to get you through.”

Steve leaves a bruise on each hip, first with his teeth, then his fingers, digging deep into a wound he hopes doesn’t heal until he sees him again.

“Please. More.”

Eddie always begs so nicely.

Steve always gives him what he wants.

He takes his time, and eventually, Eddie taps out. The tears running down his face are less from the pleasure-pain and more from the sadness of leaving now. Steve made him feel good, but he’s gonna crash too hard if they keep going like this.

They don’t even come that night, both too tired by the time Steve’s done leaving traces of himself wherever he can on Eddie’s body and massaging the aches he caused. He falls asleep with his face buried in Eddie’s side, fingers slotted against the partial handprint he left.

He hopes some of these marks are still there when he sees him again in a few weeks.

[j-eryewrites]

Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want This Time

Chapter Seven of Under Pressure: A Thunderbolts Fic

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: ~7.0k

Warnings: Language, mentions of wanting to kill/murder someone, Valentina hate train, mentions of insecurities, I guess still THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS, (let me know if I missed something)

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. I've been on vacation in DC and Maryland, so I have been busy. But here it finally is. I believe from now on the chapters are going to get a bit longer. I'm trying my best to not write over 10k chapters anymore (we will see how long that lasts). As is mentioned in the tags, this is a slow burn, so I'm sorry folks, it'll be a while until reader and Bob become a thing, BUT I promise we will get a whole lot more interactions with Bob in the upcoming chapters. Anyways, please enjoy!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You were all better prepared this time, walking into the old Avengers Tower. However, hardly anything remained of your old home. It had been one of many you had lived in, but it was the first. One tends never to forget their first home and the memories that linger in the walls, growing quieter with the years. The bones stayed the same, but the skin and muscle had all been torn out and replaced. Even as you walked in the front doors, there were people patching up and building new drywall. Your brows furrowed at the large white truck. Its siding was unlabelled, almost like a blank canvas waiting to be used for something more. As you approached the front, a team of guys hustled around the truck, seemingly trying to remove it from the building. You couldn’t help but notice some snickers escaping your fellow–well, you guessed you could say it now– teammates. 

“Wow,” Yelena announced from her place in the front of the group. She twirled around, eyeing you all whilst wiggling her brows before stopping at Bucky. A slight grin appeared on her face as her pointer fingers twiddled in the air. It was the kind of smile that was always followed by a joke or a jab at another, and from how she scrunched her nose at Bucky, you figured it had something to do with him. “Nice knowing the door was unlocked this time.” 

Peering over your shoulder, you caught Alexei cheerfully slapping Bucky on the shoulder. Yeah, definitely Bucky.  

“It was great plan, Mr. Winter Soldier.” Alexei’s chest heaved as he let out another chuckle. Everyone besides you and Bob let out another laugh while the two of you tried to piece the inside joke like a puzzle. All the pieces lay before you: a broken wall with an indent that fit the front of the crush truck perfectly, piles of swept-up glass as workers put in new panes, Bullet holes in nearby walls.  Each piece fitted together, snuggling closely inside your mind beside everything you knew about the culprit. 

Despite being great friends with Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes was nothing like your bonus dad/uncle. You still weren’t really sure what familial titles to call the Avengers–your family. They all raised you, each one taking a different spin on the responsibility of caring for you. Bucky was someone who fell under that category. While Steve was the kind of person who’d sit with you on rainy days where you wanted to savour the sound of the water drowning out your thoughts, Bucky was the one you’d crash into when running from the demons in the dark. He listened and understood your struggles with your past, the regrets, the lies, all of it. With his vibranium arm, he’d hold you until you could stand on your own again, all while he shooed the shadows that crept too close to you. While a stable foundation you could find your footing on, Bucky was just as rickety as the rest of you. In a moment's notice, he’d jump out of a moving car, all while avoiding taking a trip to the grocery store because of something embarrassing he said a few weeks ago to an underpaid clerk. As you passed by the struggling workers removing the truck from the building’s entryway, it was apparent Bucky had taken the jump. Instead, the jump was barreling through the front doors.

Bucky rolled his shoulder back, as he tilted his head back and forth like he was adjusting how tightly his head was screwed onto his neck. He tightly nodded to Alexei, shaking off his encouragement, “Thanks. And just call me Barnes.” 

“You got it, Mr. Win–Barnes,” Alexei corrected himself. Clutching the base of his belt, Alexei adjusted his suit to better keep his belly tucked in. He had insisted on wearing his Red Guardian attire despite its soiled state. 

Besides Ava, due to obvious reasons, the others had chosen to wear the fresh clothes you and Bob had picked up for them at the store. It was strange seeing them all out of combat gear. You struggled to find the word for it as you waited for the elevator to arrive in the lobby. Peaceful? You shook your head. You all were anything but peaceful, with how everyone had a permanent scowl or glare plastered on their face. The only ones you could probably say were close to anything peaceful were Bob and Yelena. Although Bob held a befuddled expression, he still did not understand much of anything despite your attempts to explain things to him. Yelena, on the other hand, was smiling, but it was the kind of smile that could turn deadly in the blink of an eye. You were all on edge with the upcoming meeting, so relaxed wasn’t the word. Your eyes lit up. Uncomfortable. 

“Right,” Ava said, eyeing you strangely. It was then that you realized you had said it out loud. “Anyways, what are we planning on doing when we get up there? I still say we should kill her, you know, get it over with and then go on our merry way.” 

Walker’s eyebrows raised as if he pondered the thought before shaking his head, his head tilting slightly. Your brows pinched together, wondering if he always shook his head like a father who only said no because Mom said so. Glancing at the group, you figured the title of ‘Mom’ belonged to Bucky, given how drained he appeared due to all the threats of murder. 

“As I said before,” Bucky exhaled. His mouth was working overtime as he enunciated every word with remarkable clarity. “ We can NOT kill Valentina. We are here to discuss and ONLY THAT.” His eyes met every one of you, lingering a bit longer on the more bloodthirsty of you. 

“Okay, Senator Barnes, way to be a politician,” Walker grumbled under his breath. “A little beating never hurt anyone. See, I turned out just great–” You and Ava snickered.  

“Yes!” Alexei cheered. “Mr. Walker gets it. We can always break a few bones–”

“No breaking bones, no accidental flying knives, no weird energy stuff, or–” He pointed at Yelena. “Your zit-zit thingies.” Yelena groaned, flinging her arms into the air, revealing she had indeed brought her stun bracelets. “Bob–” At the mention of his name, Bob stood a little straighter. His gaze was torn from the popcorn-looking ceiling and onto Bucky. “Just…” But Bucky couldn’t finish his sentence. His face contorted to discover the right words, only to sigh in defeat. “Just don’t do any of what I said.” 

“Yeah, no, got it,” Bob blurted. “No killing. Just talking.” 

The ding of the elevator bell interrupted the conversation, bringing it to a conclusion. The brass doors slid open, revealing a spacious room. One by one, you all filtered in. Once Alexei entered, the room felt a little less spacious. Slowly, the doors closed with a thud. You all stood there for a moment. 

“Why aren’t we moving?” Ava questioned, standing on the tip of her toes to peer over Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Don’t ask me, I’m not near the buttons,” Walker clarified, shifting to lean his back against the cool surface of the elevator walls. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you, now did I?” Ava retorted. Walker lifted his head to scoff at her, angering Ava further. 

“Okay, okay, we get it. No one has pressed the buttons yet.” With minimal effort, Yelena jumped into the air. It was just enough height to see over most of the heads. “Bob?” Yelena called out to him. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re in the corner with the buttons.”

“Uh-huh.” 

“So…can you press them, so we can go up?” 

“Uh…W-what floor are we supposed to go to again?” Bob quietly asked. A loud groan left Walker’s mouth. You swiftly elbowed him in the ribs, stifling his complaints. “I forgot.” 

“Uh…It’s floor…” Yelena trailed off. Her green eyes fell on Bucky. 

He felt the stare hit the back of his skull. Sighing, Bucky muttered the floor Valentina had told them to be on. “73.” 

“73, Bob!” Yelena bellowed. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

“So,” Valentina cleared her throat, bringing her hands together in a wringing motion. You eyed her tense smile. One you had put on many times before in front of people you’d rather be six feet under than standing in front of you, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and Valentina was desperate. “Can I get you anything to drink? Mel here makes a great cup of coffee.” Mel gave you all a tiny introductory wave before catching Valentina’s glare and slumping back against the wall with her eyes cast down.

“I’ll have coffee. You can never be too awake,” Alexei grinned at Mel, who began to jot down his order.

“What would you like in–”

Leaning forward in your leather conference room seat, you placed your elbows on the table. It was a dark-stained oak with the O.X.E. label plastered on the middle in a blue and gold resin design. Your fists clenched tightly together as your voice lowered. “We’re not here to play nice and chat over drinks, Valentina.” Valentina’s smile dropped, finally expressing the face she had fought off since the moment you all entered the conference room.

It had been one of the only floors safe from the damage caused by the Void incident. After all, a building is not typically built to withstand a helicopter or two falling out of the sky and crashing down onto it. Some of the outer windows had been shattered, letting in a chilly late afternoon breeze. Even in the closed-off conference room, you could still feel the cold. You welcomed it. It kept you alert, and one needed to always be on the tip of their toes with Valentina. 

“Ms. Stark, you surprised me.” Valentina’s dark eyes narrowed on you. “I thought your Father would have raised you with some manners. Or at least common courtesy–” 

You lunged out of your seat. If it weren’t for Bucky hauling you back, you’d have your bare hands around Valentina’s throat. 

“Y/N,” Bucky hissed. Using his vibranium arm, he led you to a chair farther away from Valentina, right across from Bob. “Talk, not kill,” he whispered to you under his breath once you were seated. You let out a huff of air in distaste at being removed from the conversation and placed in a time-out. 

“Valentina,” Bucky cleared his throat. 

“Mr. Barnes, or ah–” She corrected herself. “Senator Barnes, forgive me.” 

Bucky made a tight-lipped smile before continuing. “Bitch,” he muttered quietly, as he took a sharp breath to try and cover the curse. But before he could say anything else, Valentina’s act dropped in the blink of an eye. 

In an exasperated manner, Valentina flung her arms up and gawked at the lot of you as you sent her glares. They were all on a varying wavelength: Alexei was on the lowest end due to him loudly whispering to Mel his coffee order, Walker and Yelena were in the middle of bordering the fine line of talking to and actively planning Valentina’s murder. Ava and you were on the furthest end wanting to strangle the woman, and the desire grew ever more enticing the longer she breathed. All while Bob did not know the spectrum even existed, yet still held some animosity towards the woman. Something deep inside him hurt when he saw her. He wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling it had to do with what you and the others had gently tried telling him. Bucky was in the 3/4th range: 25 percent wanted to kill, and the other 75 percent wanted to sort this out. There was also an extra 30 percent there for his desire to just call Sam and have his help in figuring this all out. 

“Jesus! What is with you people?” Valentina bleated. Her eyes went wide as they made a round trip around the room. “It’s like you hate me or something.” A flash of nervousness rippled through her dark eyes. She tried to hide how shaky she was getting by drinking some of the water in front of her at the head of the table. You all noticed the signs despite her attempts at concealment. 

“More like we want to kill you,” Ava commented, shifting in her seat to prop her legs up onto the conference table. “But Bucky here wants us to talk and, well, he’s terrifying, so I’m doing my damnedest to listen.” Walker nodded in agreement. When he caught Bucky’s eye he uncomfortably shrugged in response. 

“Wait–” Bucky turned to Ava, his eyes meeting each of yours briefly. “You’re scared of me? Why?” 

Yelena let out a bewildered gasp. “Dude! You’re the Winter Soldier. Who wouldn’t be scared?”

“Not the Winter Soldier anymore,” Bucky clarified.

“Well, you were,” Yelena quipped back. “I’m still reeling from when you blew up our car.”

Alexei let out a sob, thinking about the Red Guardian Limo. “My Limo business,” he somberly mourned. 

“Look,” Bucky sighed. “I said I’m sorry. You were evidence that was trying to run away, and I–”

“Made a tactical decision, I get it.” Walker finished. “Still could’ve driven your motorcycle up to us or, you know, maybe talked it out like you’re wanting us to do now.” 

“Guys–” Bucky tried to defend. 

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” Bob interjected. 

“Honestly, Bob, that’s such a great question.” Yelena loudly stated, bringing the conversation to a halt. Bob beamed, happy to have been of help. Slowly, his eyes met yours as they flickered with confusion, asking for your help. Quietly, you nodded your head to the seat beside you.  Yelena turned to Valentina, her eyes growing cold. “What are we doing here, Valentina?” 

Finally having the attention back on her, Valentina clasped her hands together. Her rings ground against each other as she tried to calm herself. “Thank you, Yelena.” She cleared her throat, pulling up her most diplomatic voice. “Well–” 

A loud screech came from the end of the table. “S-sorry,” Bob muttered, pulling out his chair. All eyes flashed to him as he made his way around the back of the table to sit next to you. He muttered apologies as he trekked over. It felt like years, with the silence and stares looming over him. “Sorry,” Bob apologized again, finally sitting down beside you as his hands found their way into his lap. He began to fiddle with them with his eyes cast down. 

“You good?” You leaned over, whispering to him. 

Bob’s eyes moved to yours, smiling softly as his hands came to a still. “Yeah, just…” He trailed off, looking at the others as they engaged with Valentina. “I still have no idea what’s going on.” 

“I can try to explain if that helps?” Bob nodded. “You remember the Vault?” 

“Y-yeah, we almost burned alive. I thought that lady was the one who, you know…” Bob gulped. “Wanted to kill us.” 

“Right, well, I’m pretty sure she still does, but now we’re her ticket out of an impeachment trial, so she’s trying to play nice. While we are trying not to get caught up in her schemes and be taken down with her.” You explained. 

Bob’s eyes narrowed as he began to piece things together. “So that’s what you and Bucky were talking about at the restaurant–Good food by the way. I really liked it. Wait–” Bob stopped himself short, his eyes lowering as his next question popped to the surface. “Uh, what’s she being impeached for? I’m sorry, I don’t know–” 

“The director of the CIA.” 

You weren’t sure what Bob was expecting you to say, but it sure wasn’t what came out of your mouth, with how his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “ Jesus, uh, wow. That’s a big one.” 

“Yeah, I know–” 

“No!” Alexei loudly exclaimed, banging his hands against the table. The coffee in his mug was spilling from the sheer force of the pound. “We are the Thunderbolts! Not the ‘New Avengers’.” Yelena groaned into her hand. Her face turned red as Alexei got louder. The disgust in Alexei’s voice at being the “New Avengers” was appallingly apparent. “We are no second-coming of Avengers. My team is the Thunderbolts. ” Then he mumbled under his breath, cursing the name Shane. You couldn’t quite hear it all. 

“Well, it’s a little too late to change the name, seeing as I told the press and all,” Valentina explained. She tensed as Alexei claimed it was his team. “Besides, it’s my team.”

“No. My team. Yelena, tell her.” Alexei demanded. 

“Dad–” Yelena pleaded. 

“Tell her we are Thunderbolts,” He proudly proclaimed, before switching his focus back to Valentina. “Change name back. So simple.”

Valentina let out an annoyed chuckle. “Not simple. No, you’re all the New Avengers, whether you like it or not.”

“I think we’re all forgetting the fact that she tried to kill us,” Walker hissed. Standing up out of his seat, he pointed an accusing finger at Valentina. All of a sudden, it felt like you were in a courtroom, except every one of you was a prosecutor put up against a defendant who was speaking for themselves. 

“Actually, I was having you all kill each other, ” Valentina clarified. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at her poor attempt at an excuse. “Which seems to have worked somewhat since there’s only seven of you instead of eight.” 

Walker froze. The finger that was once pointed at Valentina now faltered down to his side. His jaw clenched tightly at her words. You all did. Ava especially. Her eyes fell to the ground, finding the speckled pattern of the carpet drawing all of her attention. Bucky and Alexei glanced around at you all. Alexei’s eyes softened at Yelena’s somber expression, as a deep frown already etched itself onto her face. When Bucky’s eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but look away. Valentina was right. There was no refuting her words. 

“So what?” Yelena muttered. Her breath was low, and her shoulders were tense. Her eyes slowly drew away from her reflection on the table. “Are we still your shadow ops? Here to do your dirty work but under a new shiny title?” 

Valentina cocked her head to the side, taking in a deep breath. As if it were a reset button, her posture now stood straighter, like a needle about to inject something venomous deep into your veins. “Yes and no.” Her empty glass clinked as it was placed back onto the table. “You’re in this with me now. If I go down, you all do too. There’s nothing people love more than tearing into those who have fallen, and trust me, I’ll make you fall with me.” 

Bob nervously glanced over at you. His glance sparked a similar reaction in others. It was exactly as Bucky had told you earlier. Valentina was a predator who saw her opportunity and took it. You all were trapped, enchained by her side until she fell, dragging you all down with her, or until someone freed you. The weight of Bucky’s words and ideas fell on your shoulders. You shrink under their gaze, not enough for Valentina to see weakness and pounce. No, it was the kind of weight that you could not buckle from. The only place left to go was forward, and so you raised your head to face the viper. 

“Now, the public is already skeptical of you all, and I don’t blame them. I mean, we’ve got Walmart Captain America, a former assassin, a mall Santa, a failure of a senator—” Valentina’s words were intended to cut deep despite the coach-like tone she used when speaking to them. Despite her attempts to weaken you all, they fell on deaf ears. You knew you weren’t perfect. No one who sat at this table was. Covered in the shadows cast by the new name you all bore was enough of a reminder. 

“Alright, we get it, Valentina,” Bucky spat. “Where are you going with all of this?” 

“You’re so lucky you’ve got a cute face, Senator Barnes–and good hair,” Bucky scowled at the disguised insult. “Mel, I’m sure we can get it even better, tell the hair department that–”

“On it,” Mel said, already jotting down the ideas that began to spew from Valentina’s mouth. You wanted to feel bad for the poor woman, but she was just as much a part of this as you were. 

“We’re going to need good PR. Charity events and maybe some interviews with top news stations. We have got to build the image that you, miscreants, can step into the shoes of the old Avengers. Oh god, I won’t even begin to mention sponsors and–”

“Yelena, the Wheaties box!” Alexei cheered, nudging Yelena’s side. It seemed he intended it to be a whisper of sorts, but his voice came out much too loud as if he were a child going through a growth spurt. Whose brain was not realizing that they stood two feet taller than before, misjudging every action and placement. 

“I’m sorry,” Valentina blinked. “What? And what is that ridiculous get-up? We are definitely going to have to change that.” 

Alexei’s face dropped as his eyes narrowed at her. “No change. I am the Red Guardian and–” 

“Let me stop you there, Mr. Red Guardian,” Valentina interjected, brushing over Alexei as she continued to spit out more ways to make each of you into the most delectable mold for the press and people to eat up. The way she discussed wardrobe changes and PR events would put even the best social media influencers to shame. “Mel, make a note to trim up the beard, tidy him up a little…” She paused. “A lot. Hell, all of them. Actually, call the wardrobe and other accompanying departments stat. We’ve got a lot of work to do before–”

“Oh, I feel a headache coming,” Bob mumbled. The stress of it all: the unknown, Valentina’s threats and judgements, and now all this talk of being public and close-ups were making the wrinkles in his forehead more and more prominent. 

“I feel you,” you replied, trying to soothe the divots in your skin that mirrored his. 

“Enough about the hair and…whatever,” Bucky declared. Valentina paused her monologue, clenching her jaw. Sitting straighter, Bucky brought his hands together. He looked very official with how he sat, despite the T-shirt and jeans, and leather Jacket combo he was rocking. You understood now why he was elected by his Brooklyn constituents. While he didn’t have a way with words, Bucky did have a way with connecting with people and getting things done. “We need to talk about how this is going to work. Clearly, you need us, and somehow we need you.” 

A smile flickered onto Valentina’s face. It wasn’t a challenge or one meant to belittle. Instead, it was one of acknowledgement, as if Valentina began to see past the cover and actually read the contents. “You all, this little team you made, is official. And because you are the New Avengers, you need to start acting like them, doing what they did. You will all live in the Watchtower once the renovations are complete. You will attend events and make public appearances. And you will complete missions, save the world, I’m sure you get the gist. You do all that, and I make sure you are provided for. It’s an exchange, you see, I don’t get impeached and criminalized, and you all can have a chance for the clean slate I promised. Sound fair?”

The rest of the meeting flew by. Not because the topics rolled off the tongue spurring on the conversation, but because you chose not to listen for much longer, instead choosing to fiddle with your fingers. You trace their shape, dragging along the creases of your knuckles, which eventually stop. Next, you fumbled with your nails, not once bringing them up to your mouth. It had been a habit you broke long ago, but the urge to nibble now was unbearable. You could feel the nail beds touching your skin, digging into places you hadn’t noticed before. Soon, your focus was brought to the hangnails that peeled away from the original nail. You winced as you scratched at them, an attempt to get it away. It wasn’t until a soft hand squeezed your shoulder that you snapped out of it. 

Looking up, you found Bucky. It took a minute for your mind to load and understand what he was trying to tell you. 

“Y/N?” Bucky muttered your name. His thumb came to rub your shoulder in a circular pattern. It was the same one he always did when trying to comfort you. Clockwise three times, then counterclockwise four times before rubbing up and down to restart the pattern. 

“Huh? Oh yeah, I–sorry, ” you quietly said. You glanced down at the paper in front of you. It was a contract of sorts. One Valentina was having everyone sign. Legally binding, you recalled her saying. She’d do all the things she promised: provide housing and support for you all so long as you did what you agreed to. Scanning the papers, you realized she had pre-signed everything. You scoffed, picking up the pen that laid in front of you. You twirled it around, creating an illusion as if the pen was floating in the air. As your hands mindlessly flipped the pen between your fingers, your eyes lifted from the contract to your team. It seemed they were all reluctant to sign something like this, even though you spent the last two hours, give or take, discussing all the fine details. 

It was air-tight, or at least that is what Val wanted you to believe. You knew there was always some loophole you could find and hold onto, like a get-out-of-jail card. Finding it was the problem, though. While you were smart, you knew little about the legality of things. Picking up the thick paper, you bit your lip and clicked your pen. With a swift motion, a signature now lay on the line. Signed and dated. Mel came around, picking up the contracts one by one. Valentina blabbed on about how you all would receive copies of the contract to keep with you. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you watched as the contract in front of you disappeared. You couldn’t help but feel as if you had just made a contract with the devil, and you weren’t sure if you’d get out of this with your soul intact. One thing was for sure: you were going to need one hell of a lawyer to help you out. 

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The savoury scent of Chinese takeout wafted through the air. Although you and the others had devoured it the moment the delivery arrived, scarfing it down until your stomach overflowed and then eating some more, the scent lingered. Flopped against the cushions of your couch, you flung arms out, trying to stretch away your food baby. 

“Oh god,” Yelena groaned as she curled up in the corner of your couch. Snagging one of the throw pillows to brace against her stomach, she puffed her cheeks and let out a huff of air, which blew the blonde strands of her hair out and away from her face. “I don’t think I have ever eaten so much food in my life.”

“I second that,” Ava added, letting her head fall back on the cushion to the right of you. Wiping a few stray strands of hair from her face, she let her arms slump back down to the ground, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface of your shiny hardwood floors. 

Beside you, Walker took a long sip of the beer he borrowed from your fridge. The flavour of the golden liquid teased his taste buds. At first sip, he wasn’t sure if he’d like it, seeing the brand and all, but it grew on him. The bitterness gave way to a soft sweetness that helped massage away the stress of the past few days. “Nothing better than cheap food and good beer,” he muttered, his eyes distant as he raised the drink in his hand, making a toast. 

“I’d drink to that,” you chimed, as you turned your head to gaze at your drink on the coffee table. You had only taken a few chugs of it before filling your stomach with as much Chinese food as you could eat. Now it sat building up condensation that formed a ring on the wooden surface of the table, matching all the other rings that had come before it. You weren’t one for coasters, it seemed. Extending an arm, you reached out for the drink. Your knuckles stretched out of their place to brush the dewy surface of your can. You jutted out your bottom lip, frowning. It was just out of reach. So you strained even further. Still, the drink lay out of reach. 

Walker chuckled. ��Why don’t you try again? Maybe you’ll get it this time.” 

“Shut up, Walker,” you quipped back. You caught sight of the smirk that formed on his lips. The line of his smile reached his bright blue eyes. You rolled yours in response, reaching again for the drink. However, you didn’t have to reach far as the drink was lifted up and placed into your hand. 

“Here you go,” Bob said. Despite wearing your gloves, you could feel the warmth radiating from his hand. Carefully, you adjusted your fingers to hold only the tip of the can, giving his large hand the room it needed on the drink. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling his hand slip away once you had a grip on the drink. Bob just nodded his head, before turning back to his plate, still making his way through the last bits of fried rice on his plate. Lifting the beer to your lips, you felt the cool liquid drain into your throat. It sent a welcomed chill throughout your body. 

At the end of the couch, Bucky pushed himself off the cushions. His hands reached for the dirtied plates and dishware littering the coffee table. Stacking them one on the other, he carried the pile into your kitchen, gently placing them into the sink before washing them off and putting them into your dishwasher. You wanted to tell him you’d take care of it later, but the meeting with Valentina had made your throat coarse and your vocal cords unwilling to speak. Instead, you made a mental note to remind yourself later to thank him. Soon ,Bucky came back with a trash bag, collecting the empty take-out boxes and crushed cans of beer. Eventually, you willed yourself off the couch, following Bucky into the kitchen to finish cleaning up. 

“I’ve got this,” Bucky said, urging you to go sit back down with everyone else as the food comas overcame them. Alexei was the first to succumb as ripples of snores began to sneak out of his mouth. 

You shook your head, placing a few remaining dishes into your dishwasher before closing it. “Nah, it’s my house, you’re my guests.” 

“Well, you’ve been a great host so far, now let me be a grateful guest,” Bucky quipped back. 

You chuckled as he gently pushed you to the side to start your dishwasher for you. “Ever the gentleman, Bucky Bear,” you teased, letting the nickname you gave him long ago slip out, watching as he rolled his eyes at it. You knew he cherished the name more than he let on. He just never would give you the satisfaction of knowing. 

Reaching into the cupboard below your sink, you snatched a container of wipes and popped open the lid. The antiseptic smell of Lysol filled the air. With a sharp tug, the cleaning wipe detached, freeing itself from the bottle, and you began to wipe the counter. There wasn’t much to wipe, but even so, it kept you busy providing you a much-needed distraction from Valentina, the contract, the team, hell, everything. 

“Pepper called.” The words slipped out of your mouth. You sighed, wiping a spot on your counter a little harder. Bucky leaned against the counter beside you. He didn’t say anything, instead just giving you the space you needed to breathe, to keep talking. “She saw the news and called to check in. Make sure everything was okay.” 

“And is it? Is everything okay?” Bucky asked. You didn’t turn to look at him, but felt the weight of his eyes all the same. 

“I don’t know anymore, Bucky,” you admitted. You had stopped wiping the counter long ago, the Lysol wiping having dried out. “Earlier at the restaurant, I thought maybe I could do it, but then we had the meeting and signed the contract–Bucky, I’m drowning. In over my head with everything, and I haven’t even started. What’s worse is that Val is right. She’s a horrible person, but she’s right. I mean, look at us.” You tried your best to stay quiet, but with how much your voice was trembling, it was getting difficult. “We’re a bunch of misfits.” 

“You’re human,” Bucky said. 

You let out a dry laugh. “So were they, and yet here I am feeling less than.” 

Bucky took in a deep breath, flexing his hands. “Look, kid,” you sent him a glare. “Y/N,” Bucky corrected. “The Avengers were idolized. Put on pedestals for stepping up and being the first, but even then, they weren’t perfect. No one is. You know that better than anyone.” 

“Then why is it so much harder to live up to their expectations when they’re gone than when they were alive?” 

“Because they’re a memory. Living things change and adapt. Memories stay fixed, imperfect capsules of what once was. Look, I know it doesn’t do any good to dwell on the past. You get lost in all the questions of what could have happened and what might be instead of seeing what’s right in front of you.” Stepping closer, Bucky placed his vibranium hand over yours. “Go rest, I’ll finish cleaning up here.”

Reluctantly, you dragged yourself away from the kitchen and into the living room, flopping back down onto the couch. Pretty much everyone had fallen asleep by now. Walker lay tucked into the side of the couch. His mouth hung slightly open as he breathed in and out. His chest rose at a slow and steady pace. Nearby, Yelena grumbled in her sleep, still hugging your throw pillow. Ava was no longer anywhere in the room, but from the creaks in the floorboards upstairs, you figured she had found her way back into one of the guest rooms. Alexei still snored, his mouth hanging wide open. His nose twitched, and you noticed bits of rice stuck in his scruffy beard. All while Bob leaned against the palm of his hand. His elbow, which was braced against the table, slipped as he dozed off. The sudden jerk startled him awake. With a finger, you nudged his shoulder. He whirled around to look at you. His eyes were blown wide with sleep. “Huh, uh–I’m up,” he said groggily. 

“You can take one of the beds,” you quietly offered, glancing at the sleeping figures nearby. “I doubt they’ll wake up anytime soon.” 

“Uh, I’m good,” he tried to convince you he wasn’t tired, but you could see the sleep he was trying so hard to fight off. 

“Bob,” you sighed. “You need to rest. We all do. I know my place is unfamiliar, but I’ll do what I can to make it comfortable for you. More pillows or blankets? Maybe melatonin?”

Still, he shook his head. “Melatonin makes me wake up in the middle of the night, so–I promise I’m okay. I just–” His face fell, and he turned away from you. You sat up from your place on the couch, sliding down on the floor next to him. Behind you, you could hear Bucky’s deep footsteps as he made his way into your office to crash on the blow-up mattress. “I-I know you all said that I’m coming with you and that I’m a part of the team, but I can’t help but feel like that if I fall asleep, that I’ll wake up and you all will be gone.” 

Your shoulders fell as the tremble in his voice. Softly, you laid your head against your knees to get a better look at him. “Bob, I promise we will all be here when you wake up. I know some of them are leaving to get packed for when we move into the Watchtower, but we’ll be here.” 

Finally, Bob looked at you. His eyes scanned your face as he searched for any sign of a lie, but there was none. You looked certain and secure in your words despite the uncertainty he had heard you convey to Bucky in the kitchen. He felt bad for eavesdropping, but found it difficult not to listen to the sound of your voice. “Okay…” 

“Speaking of,” You began. “Do you have some place you want to go, things to pack up?” 

Bob shook his head. “No, when I left for Malaysia, I kinda sort of left everything behind. I don’t really have anything, besides the clothes and toothbrush you got me.” 

“Oh,” you uttered. “That’s fine. I’d be happy to pick you up some more things, if you’d like.” 

“I don’t want to ask that of you. You’ve already done a lot for me.” 

“Bob, please, it’s fine. I promise it does nothing but ease the weight of my wallet,” you lightly teased, all while trying to reassure him. “We can go shopping tomorrow if you like.” 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Bob smiled, tucking his knees into his chest to rest his arms on top. Slowly, he let his head drop down, lying in his arms. His eyes were still gazing at you from where you sat. You couldn’t help the heat that flooded your cheeks as he looked at you. 

Licking your lips, you began to nibble on them, your body unconsciously mirroring Bob’s position. “You’re welcome to stay with me, you know, until we all move into the Watchtower and all,” you whispered. Your fingers trailed the seam of your pants up and down, unsure as to why you were nervous for just offering him a place to stay. He hummed in agreement, fighting off the weight of his eyelids as they tried to close. Shifting, you carefully nudged him. “If you won’t go to sleep in one of the beds, at least sleep on the couch, Bob. It’s a great couch, if I might add. Might just sleep on it myself,” you yawned, lifting yourself off the floor to grab some blankets from your closet. Bob shook himself awake, mumbling that he’d be fine, but his body betrayed him as he stood up and crawled onto the couch. You unfolded the blankets, peeling the soft fluffy fabric from each other before lying it down over Yelena, Alexei, Walker, and lastly, Bob. Then finding an open place on the couch, you tugged a blanket over yourself. 

You curled your legs closely, settling in the fetal position. Settling in one of the corners of your large U-shaped couch, you let the serenity of the night overcome you. Bucky or Ava still shuffled around upstairs moving to and from the bathroom. It was a few minutes before the light at the top of the stairs flicked off, leaving only the dim light in the kitchen and some of the warm lights of your lamps remaining. Outside, you could hear the faint rumbling as cars drove by. Occasionally, some light chatter would fill the air as your neighbors stumbled into their homes after a late night. Nearby, you could hear Bob shuffling. The fabric of his sweater zipped across the fabric of your couch as he tried to get comfortable. For a moment all would be still, until he started moving again. 

“Bob?” You called out. He hummed in response, his movements stilled. “You good?”

“Y-yeah, I just–it’s a bit cramped.” You tilted your head off the throw pillow you were laying your head on. It was a floral pattern with tiny birds embroidered onto the surface. Even in the dim light you could see how crowded the other side of the couch was. Walker and Alexei, who were no means small, lay spread out. Walker had his legs out, his feet hanging off the edge of the couch as Yelena’s legs lay tucked behind him. Where Yelena’s waist lay, was Alexei’s head. Granted he was on the floor, his large arm that was tucked underneath his head took up the same amount of space as Yelena’s torso. At the end of the other side of the U lay Bob, trying to avoid placing his feet near Yelena’s face, and legs anywhere near Alexei’s open mouth. 

Observing the large gap that was between you and Walker, you figured it’d be safe. Besides you still had your gloves on which eased any worry you might have accidental touch. “There’s more room over here,” you admitted, opening up the space for him. Bob muttered out an okay, before waddling over, dragging his blanket behind him. Your head dipped down as he lay next to you. His feet just inches from grazing Walker’s sleeping body, his head coming to a rest near yours. Your pillows pressed up against each other. “Better?” You asked. 

Bob nodded, as you watched the tension in his shoulders and neck relax letting him fully extend. “Yeah, thanks.” 

“Of course, anytime.” You took in a deep breath, letting your body fully be held by the couch below you. As your eyelids shut, you called to FRIDAY instructing her to switch off the lights and lock the doors for the night. You vaguely recalled her signalling the completion of the tasks. “Goodnight, Bob” you mumbled, unsure if your words came out coherent or not. Sleep quickly overcame you before you could hear Bob wish you a goodnight as well. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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[hjgouldmusic]

only other thing i'll say for the time being about the ship showdown and rw shipping in general is that we all need to remember to be respectful of opinions and to generally practice basic internet etiquette.

it's not about 'convincing' people or 'converting' people or anything like that. if people like a ship then that's okay. if they don't, that's okay too. we are all allowed to have our own opinions, but what we shouldn't be doing is forcing them onto others ESPECIALLY in disrespectful ways. if you can't coexist in a space with differing opinions then that's what the block button is for, and that's what the option to block tags is for. if you see people who don't like a ship or don't care for it, then don't go and try 'correct' them on it. block tags, scroll past, don't harass people who don't get it. and if you hate a ship that much, then block the tag and move on- don't harass people who like that ship!

i don't want to see any behaviour like that again from anywhere in the community. at the end of the day, none of what we're fighting over is real. we're each individually playing dollhouse with the same characters; you should not be up in arms over how other people choose to interpret them in their own mind because there is no one correct way to do it. your thoughts and opinions are completely separate from mine. so why would it bother me? and why should it bother you?

i know it's a fact of being in a community in general that things like this are bound to happen all the time, but it still disappoints me. even if rain world isn't specifically targeted at an older demographic, it's definitely not light on subject matter, so i feel we should at least be discussing it with the emotional maturity and nuance it deserves. if you can't do that, then i'm sorry but maybe rain world isn't for you.

this isn't directed at anyone in particular, more of just a broad message to the rw shipping scene (and if im being honest, the broader rw community too). i think the word 'headcanon' tends to get lost in the weeds quite a lot in this community. so just a reminder: EVERY rw ship is a headcanon. there is no confirmed relationships between any of the characters in rain world outside of familial ties. and so as a result, there is no correct ship. so don't act like your favourite one is! because it's not. nobody's favourite ship is correct. nobody's most hated ship is correct. none of them are canon! so who gives a fuck. do what you want, and respect others who do what they want. simple!

i don't like being negative on here, and i've tried my best to avoid it so far, but it just felt important to say this after recent events. if i have said anything or done anything in the past to hurt people over their ships, headcanons, or otherwise, i am sorry and i don't wish to denounce you or your ideas. i've said it before that i know there are people who enjoy their own ships as much as i enjoy cherrybomb, and with that in mind i want to treat every ship like i would cherrybomb from now on, even the ones i'm not a fan of or don't get personally. i hope everyone can do the same.

[topazshadowwolf]

Hopefully my last ever Soriel Rant

Sorry to those who have heard this before. But, yet again, I am going through the Soriel tag and see hate because "Toriel is old." This time, though, they added that Soriel only works in DT because Toriel is not as old as UT Toriel. This annoyed me as it is apparent some information given in UT has been forgotten. All of you are forgetting she is a BOSS MONSTER. Per Gerson:

"We call 'em Boss Monsters. When they have an offspring, the SOUL power of the parents flows into the child... Causing the child to grow as the parents age. But ASGORE doesn't have a child. So he's been stuck at the same age... And probably will be forever. Huh? What if the child is a human...? What? Nah. That wouldn't work. So if ASGORE's your father, he'll definitely outlive you."

Asriel DIED in UT before his horns grew in. UT Toriel is YOUNGER than DR Toriel. I'm starting to assume most of you who think Toriel is so old is because you, yourself, are a kid or teen. But let me explain to you some basic facts:

Royalty often marries young and focuses on having children as soon as possible. Especially if you are next in line for the throne and your kingdom is in dire straits. In a monarchy system, having the stability of a King and Queen, as well as future rulers (Princes or Princesses), provides reassurance to the people, knowing that there is stability. It provides security for the future so they, too, can form families and a life.

Considering all of that, given the war and loss of many monster species, UT Asgore and Toriel were likely 18-20 years old when they married. With how young Asriel looks and sounds in UT, he likely died no older than 10. Additionally, considering he does not have his horns, we can infer that he died at a young age. Meanwhile, DR Toriel's Asriel not only grew in his horns but is old enough to go away to college! Even if Boss Monsters stop aging at 25, and both Toriel and Asgore's parents lived long enough during the war for them to reach that age, and they waited until then to have their own children, that would mean Toriel would be at most around 35 years old. No matter how many years go by. She is MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY about 35 years old until she has another child. Or at least the human equivalent of 35 years old, give or take, for differences in the aging of Monsters.

We do not know Sans' age. All of you "kids" see him at 20 because to you that's old, but to someone my age, he then would still be a young'un, a teen in a way, if he were just 20 years old. He is likely 25 or older, to me at least. I feel this way as he seems to be someone who is more mentally mature. (Your brain does not stop developing until you are 24-25 years old. The last part to develop is your prefrontal cortex, which is the part that allows you to understand cause and effect.) I say this because UT Sans knew that interfering with the humans' travels by holding their hand, like Toriel, would make the 'game' boring. But seeing a friendly face now and then during times we might start feeling lonely would be helpful. Also, by stepping in too soon to stop the human, he wouldn't be at his strongest to fight us if we killed a few people.

I have seen people judge him for not stepping in to save his brother. Even question how much he loves Papyrus if he just allowed it to happen. Do you honestly think he just wanted to sit back and let you kill Papyrus? Someone who breaks the gameplay in the final boss fight by attacking you in the menu screens? NO. He does love Papyrus. He tries to encourage you to spend time with Papyrus, to care about his little brother. He pushes on us that Papyrus is the coolest. Because if we love Papyrus, we wouldn't want to hurt him. Because he saw something concerning timelines, starting and stopping, but only one ends everything, thus there is no going back. So, only one timeline truly matters.

To make these decisions, he likely has a fully developed mind that allows him to understand that acting too soon will have a worse outcome than waiting. That Papyrus might die now, but if he proves this route is bad or makes it impossible to continue, the kid might go back and redo things. Not saying a 20-year-old couldn't think this. But it is more likely to be seen by someone older and mature. Which is different than the typical "Sans is too lazy to save his own brother" that i have seen.

Sans is seen as lazy, and as an adult, I get it. My living space is messy, and I prefer lazing around when I can. However, I still work a full-time job, help my friends with whatever they may need, and I have some hobbies that I'm passionate about. Sans is messy, but he tried to bake a pie (sugary quiche), got some snail-shelled pasta that Papyrus is unsure what he did with, and visits a lady daily at a door to give her company. He made his brother's costume and helped him make a guard station to help encourage his dream of becoming a member of the royal guard. The fact that Sans is paying for the house, supporting his brother by working multiple jobs, and getting him whatever he wants or needs to have a stable life, tells me he would understand Toriel in her efforts to raise the humans. They may even commiserate about things that happened, which only a single parent might understand. Because Sans might be the older brother, but he also took on the fatherly role for Papyrus.

"But, Topaz, Sans is Papyrus's brother, and Papyrus is still young!" I hear you say. 1. We don't know how old Papyrus is. The CoolSkeleton95 doesn't mean much to me, as I personally used random numbers that didn't mean jack squat to me whenever I needed to add a number at the end of a username. Also, maybe skeletons take a long time to age. Maybe Papyrus was born in 1895. Regardless, just because YOU might have used your birth year does not mean Papyrus used his. And 2. So? There can be a 10, 15, or even 20-year age difference between them. That is possible. If their mother was 20 when Sans was born, guess what? The mother could have been 40 when Papyrus was born. These are just life facts; people forget that when looking at fictional characters, their own personal life does not need to apply.

The bottom line: Stop throwing false accusations of disgusting behaviors (an 80-year-old going after a 20-year-old, for example) just because you don't like the ship. And you don't have to like it! But saying 'well, it only works in DR and not UT because of (same old recycled excuse that has already been debunked hundreds of times)' is just getting annoying. We all have our preferences. Just because you're annoyed that DR Soriel seems to be happening and people are excited and posting about it doesn't give you an excuse to dunk on UT Soriel.

Now, get off my lawn! Whipper-snappers these days. (Translation: Please, just stay out of the tag/don't tag your hate posts as Soriel.)

[angelltheninth]

May i please request a "there's only one bed" scenario with levi? Maybe smutty if you're ok with that 😳

Of course I'm fine with making it a bit smutty, or a lot, we'll see where the story goes.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, only one bed, grinding, cuddlefucking, clit stimulation, making a mess

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I'm so sorry that it took me this long to get to this request! So many good movies came out recently and I've been having many thoughts lmao.

If he could have helped it he would have gotten a bigger bed

Doesn't like to sweat that much while he sleeps, but during all other activities it's fine as long as he can get a bath quickly after

Of course he had to stay sweaty for days, weeks sometimes when out in the field so he's a bit better with tolerating you being all sticky with sweat while sleeping next to him

Levi tried his best to keep to his side of the bed, it's you that's the problem, being a bit more clingy of the two

Won't try to throw you out of the bed but will warn you if you smother him with your cuddles

Morning wood is the bane of Levi's existence

He hates everything about them, well almost everything, the only thing he likes is when you help him deal with it

But he hates the mess either way

When you're sharing a bed he can also grind his cock against you to get rid of his morning wood

However in that case he's conflicted between making a mess in the sheets or in his pants depending where and how he chooses to come

Not a selfish lover despite how he looks and acts towards everyone and everything else

Always conflicted if he should come inside of you or not

He's not looking to become a dad just yet but the alternative means he has more of a mess to clean up

One other option is you swallowing his cum but then he would have to let go of you and he loves fucking you from behind while teasing and pinching your clit at the same time

Neither of you get completely naked, especially Levi, he always wants to be as ready as possible to get out of bed, even the one he shares with you

If he thinks it's your fault that the bed is a mess when you do decide to get up then he will ask you to help him clean up

[redheadsramblings]

WIP Ask Game

Rules: in a new post, post the names of all files in your WIP folder, regardless how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell us about it

I have been tagged in this by the lovely @strugglinggranola @the-font-bandit @sunny374940 @serensama @ollypopwrites @handsignals and @theyearningghoul

OK I get it you all want to see my unhinged WIP list, remember you asked for this 😅

Some have appeared before and a lot of these will fit into my overarching game events fic, but I was seized by the muse.

So I write all of them down so I don't lose my 3am inspo to the vagaries of my brain. I am not currently working on all of them.

They're all Veilguard cause that is all that is in my brain 🥰

How A Rowan Became A Rook

The Loneliest Hearts

Vorgoth Gets A Crypt Baby

To err is human and to feel Divine

Divine and Dragons

Rowan Gets Magic

Rowan Raises a New Friend

Rowan Meets Topaz

Game Events

Rowan's First Birthday Party

What's in A Name

Age Is Just A Number

Emmrich gets Rowan a present

Rowan gets Emmrich a present

Rowan's Garden

Pretty Little Poisoner

Rowan is a squirrel crossed with a gecko

Rowan teaches Manfred to hum/sing or Rowan and Manfred do laundry

Necromantic Dance Academy

Rowan Threatens Hezenkoss

Lucanis tries to teach Rowan to cook

Sunburn is a bitch when you be pale af

Post Veilguard — Communication is fucking key, especially when you're fucking

Rowan makes the team gifts

Sleepwalking and dealing with trauma

Nightmares are a bitch, but sexy Necromancer is the cure

Returning the Heart of Stone

If I was easy to kill, you would have done it already

Eternity

I will always find you

Rowan and Spite Shenanigans 

Adventures in babysitting

Emmrich gets Rook’s pregnancy transferred to him via Fade shenanigans 

Rowan isn't scared of Taash

Beach Day

Orgasms aren't the only way to get off

Don't be racist

Don't Touch Me/Her

Possessive Emmrich

Breeding Smut

Emmrich and Davrin are Single Dads — Modern AU

Modern Wedding Party AU

Teia Becomes First Talon and Viago Says he Hates It, But He Lies

Modern AU

Fuck 44 WIPs 👀

What is my brain? 😱

No pressure tagging and if you've already done it I'm sorry, but I am a disaster of a human being 😉

@officialnostradamus @serbarris @emmg @themontess @the-bear-and-his-sunbird

@mosoderbergh @randomnonsensedragonage @galacticsparkles @tinygameralec @tarasmom

@mistressandry @draco-illius-noctis @jukkaricity @holdingontojupiter @crimsen-khalessi

@pseudospaceship @notyourmamasdeerbat @curiouswisp @guacamolleee  @thequeenofthewinter

@queenmuzz @andthekitchensinkao3 @lavenderprose @caughtnyact @hedwigoprah

@sofiemystique @omabell-illustriert @soeasilyswayed @paramortality

@novaobscurity @ermagerdperpehs @kirain @razildor @mojo-bro-tho

@theshotsheardacrossworlds @dymme @mercars-musings @ar-ghilas-vir-banal @silshinobii

@serstolas @woundedsoul12 @dragonracer @starfleetteddybear @blightedcrow

@ferocious-notes @avoskorm @basic-x-witch @pwney @jochiemgrace

@aetherflowers @scuttlingcrab @libdibs @scottysketches @stormwifewrites

@theroseunblown @danyrics @crystalinn @gomezwrinkles @tacoteddy22

@crystallpistol @shootingstar7123 @aiyestel @babydinosaur930 @junejems

And anyone who sees this and fancies a go tag, you're it 😁

If you would like to go on my tag list, I have a post here where you can sign up

[madamechrissy]

Hihi, I'm on your taglist for all your fics and I'm not complaining or anything because you're the sweetest, I just wanted to ask does the tag not work sometimes because sometimes I don't get the update via tags and I don't notice till I search manually days later

I'm so sorry if this is glaringly obvious or stupid

Everyone says sometimes it works or not. And some ppl who have notifications on it either notifies or not so I'm really not sure 😭 maybe tumblr hates me lmao but there's not anything I can rly do. I'd say ao3 subscribe if it's a fic you really love maybe! Unless someone has a fix for this

[ectoimp]

#OH MY GOD THANK YOU#love that everyone loves her but oh my god shut up#I was kind of afraid to say something myself#was worried I wouldn't say it right or something#like maybe there's more hate on Rags on twitter or something and that's what everyone's mad about#but I'm willing to bet it's just becoming an echo chamber at this point#where people are just seeing posts of people mad about it and getting mad and making their own post about it too#and like I'm not saying it's bad to call stuff like this out when you see it#but I've seen a lot of anger about a problem I have personally not seen once#sorry for the rant I just really needed to get this out hope it didn't bug ya

Im assuming this is a response to my tags which were #tadc tags are clogged with this#I have seen dozens of the 'so you hate women' posts and only ONE actual person posting that they hate Ragatha#You are getting One Guy'd so hard

And yeah I agree I think some of this comes from Twitter, but also Tiktok. But I dont think its exactly an echo chamber. In some ways what it is, is worse.

Its a forced depression chamber. Basically anything with an algorithm is like this because social media algos goal is NOT to give you things you want, but to give you things that will make you engage and stay on the platform longer. And rage will always get more engagement then joy.

Ive completely stopped using twitter, because all that was on my for you page was just things that enraged me. And because of how twitter handles showing posts from people you are following, it ONLY showed the most sad posts from people I follow. Like I follow artists and instead of seeing their art it would just be posts like "my dog died today" "Thinking of killing myself" and things like that. They could post hundreds of piece of art and i would ONLY be shown their suffering.

So if you like something, twitter will ONLY show you the worst parts of it. Because an angry or sad person is more likely to buy themself a 'little treat' to feel better. Ads become more effective.

This is a terrible environment for fandom to be in. Because then you get force fed the most infuriating takes even though those takes are like .00001% of people in the fandom.

It ends up hard to tell if the people getting mad about these barely existent shit takes are actually genuine or if they are just another flavor of ragebait farming, since they often jump straight to weird moral judgements, like calling someone a misogynist for not liking a female character

"Man I sure love [male character]! They are my favorite!" "Uh so you hate [female character]? Just say you're a misogynist and hate all women!" Getting real sick of seeing this shit in just about every fandom tag I click on. Do you talk to your real friends and family like that?

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[fridgrave2-0]

hehe ghost-turbo haunting felix au

turbo is connected to the last piece of his code in the whole arcade - a trophy he gifted to felix in mid 80s as a symbol of him genuinely caring about their relationships on par with being the best racer. felix also gave him one of his medals and both kept their gifts next to other rewards, but when roadblasters and turbotime were unplugged, the medal was gone with everything else

now, after burning in cola-lava turbo is basically dead, but scraps of his code still were intertwined with the trophy (after all, it was his first winner's cup, but felix never knew about it), giving turbo an opportunity to exist as a shadow incapable of interacting with anything and anyone besides felix, who kept the trophy even after the roadblasters incident

also I went crazy in tags, feel free to check them out