#and then decided to create a <3 bond
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depressedtheatrekiddo · 8 months ago
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Edwin and Niko 🥹✨💫⭐
SCOOBY-DOO AVDKSNJDN
they're not stobin but they do feel like stobin, they're my new chosen soulmates no matter what happens after this episode, they need to stay platonic soulmates, I need them to be
My teacher: define comfort
Me: *shows a picture of a conversation between Edwin and Niko*
I can't describe the joy I find in their existence
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aria0fgold · 9 months ago
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Josephandre, Lady Irene-Janine-Karine, and Pierre-Jacques-Erneste are in a polycule.
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lina-lovebug · 11 months ago
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I'd Fight The Devil
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Pairing: Alastor x fem! reader
Background: reader is Lilith and Lucifers oldest, and resembles Lilith more. Lucifer has a hard time bonding with her because of this, and Alastor decides to step in.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"DAD'S COMING?!"
(Y/N) Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, was currently having a breakdown over the fact that her father was on his way to the hotel.
She'd have no issue leaving, of course, but Charlie tricked her dear old sister into staying by saying she needed help with the hotel. . .and told her their dad was coming when he was two minutes away.
It's not like she didn't miss him, but things became different once their mother disappeared. Lucifer threw himself into his ideas, and (Y/N) tried maintaining their relationship but he couldn't even stand the look of her.
"I'm sorry! But I thought maybe you guys could talk while he's here?" Charlie suggested with a gulp, twiddling her fingers.
"I'm done trying with dad. If he wants to talk, he can come to me," (Y/N) crossed her arms, firm on her stance.
"I never thought I'd meet someone with worse daddy issues, but here you are, cher," Alastor, with his famous grin, looked down at the Princess of Hell. She huffed, not in the mood for his side comments.
"Alastor, please-"
"He's here!"
"-please fucking hide me!" She ran behind him, despite the mass amount of blonde hair making it obvious.
He chuckled.
Honestly, since meeting the eldest Morningstar, Alastor deemed himself her Protector. Not that the girl wasn't capable or needed him persay, but he cared for her. Being on the aroace spectrum, he wasn't plagued by a selfish desire to fuck her, but it was a sweet concern that slowly turned into a need to be near her.
A need to make her his.
"Hopefully he doesn't-"
"Pumpkin?"
"Fuck," (Y/N) silently cursed under her breath before Alastor stepped aside.
"Hey dad," Lucifer felt a pang in his sinister heart at her tone. She sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't even look at him, but he also remembered that he couldn't look at her at times.
It reminded him of happier times.
Times he didn't want to be reminded of anymore.
"So how've you been? Heard you've got a fancy job now. Probably making loads of money, huh?" He chuckled nervously.
"Dad, it's my company. I made it."
And he couldn't even remember that she did that?
Any dad would remember that his child created her own business.
"Ouch."
"And it's got a fucking duck on the logo. God, dad," She rose her voice, "you can't even remember that?"
"I've been busy, pumpkin-"
"Too busy to call? Too busy to even fucking call?!"
Charlie flinched at the harshness in her voice. She's always been a firecracker but she's never seen her so angry.
"I'm not fighting with you, (Y/N)," Lucifer stepped towards her, "why do you insist on fighting? Especially when I'm here for Charlie."
"Oh, you're here for Charlie?" Her horns started to come up through her skin, rolling back like a rams.
Just like her mom.
"I'm not making this about me. I just wish you'd make the effort instead of it having to be me," She missed who he was.
And during this, Alastor could see the pain on her face. She was furious, and rightfully so.
But he let her fight her own battles.
"I'm sorry that I look like mom. Is that what you want me to say?!"
"Yes!"
He didn't mean it. Of fucking course he didn't mean it, but it slipped out.
"Dad! That's enough!" Charlie ran to her, seeing tears well up in her sisters eyes. "How could you say that?"
"Pumpkin, I-"
"Don't," She sniffled, holding Charlie close, "don't come near me."
But he didn't listen.
He hated being the fact that his little girl was crying because of him.
"I think you've come far enough," Alastor spoke, getting infront of Charlie and (Y/N). He is excellent at saving face, so his pure unadulterated rage was hidden beneath his smile.
She hiccuped behind him, sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.
"Don't make me move you," Lucifer glared.
"And don't make me fucking kill you for hurting what's mine."
His voice turned more static-like than before, his eyes a burning red and his horns outstretched. He was a fucking shield for his Princess, and not even the King of Hell could get through. Lucifer recognized this and humbly backed away, retreating with his tail between his legs.
_ _ ☆ _ _
(Y/N) spent the next hour crying in her room. Over the years, she had started to hate herself for looking like her mom, and Lucifers' confirmation only reaffirmed it.
"Need anything else?" Charlie asked her. Although her sister wasn't searching for redemption, she had her own personal room in the hotel.
"Can you get Alasto-?"
A knock sounded at the door.
"Was he there the whole time?" She sniffled, and a muffled "maybe" came through the door.
Her bed was surrounded by napkins that she quickly placed on her bedside as Charlie allowed Alastor inside.
Alone.
The two of them.
Might as well just throw them condoms and say get to it, is what (Y/N) was thinking. She's known about her crush on The Radio Demon for a few months now, having a fantasy dream here and there, but wasn't much of an active person herself.
"Thank you. I know he tried to fix it, but I couldn't stand to look at him," Her puffy eyes made Alastors eye twitch, still a small spout of anger for her father.
"Of course, my dear," He sat himself next to her on the bed.
"Because your father, although the King of Hell, is a fucking coward", is what he wanted to say but kept those words for himself.
"Did you mean it? That I'm yours?" She asked, her hand inching closer to his.
"I never say anything I don't mean, cher," He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and made the she-demon gasp.
"I thought you hated touch."
He chuckled, "Oh, I do, but not if it's you. Your skin is warm, and it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort."
"You'd have me, even if I want to be glued to your side? Even having petty fights with my dad?"
"Darling, I'd wear your skin if you asked."
"Oh, how romantic," She blushed before both his hands came up to her face, bringing her into a needy kiss. With her, he needed to feel her.
Someday, even all of her.
"And I'd eat demons with you," She whispered against his lips.
"Oh my heart may burst, my dear."
Taglist: @lorkai @droopingdatura @tr1coo @randomuser-89 @abbiedail @evelin1o1 @sseleniaa
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darkstaria · 7 months ago
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Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.
Chapter 1:
----
Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.
Dark pupils watched from the ceiling, their gaze affixed upon you. You sighed, deciding to ignore its presence.
An aggravated chitter interrupted you. Pausing, you watched as a little green bird jumped out of the bat’s shadow. It paced towards you, making a small leap to land on your outstretched finger. You smiled, extending your hand to pet the top of its head. The bird took a moment to consider the moment, head tilting with its beak outstretched as if it intended to bite you. It seemed to decide on sparing your finger, allowing you to give the bird some pets on the head.
However, it was time to resume your work. You turned back to your computer, a dismissal. The bird didn't like that. A quick flash, and the bird tittered about on your keyboard, messing up your setup.
“Robin!” You snap, reaching out as if to push the bird away.
You sighed. You disliked calling the bird Robin. It was the correct species, despite the bird being green, so it made sense to use the name. But.. you hated the connection it created between your soul bonded animals and the vigilantes of the city. Unfortunately, the bird didn't answer to any other name. You've tried.
The other robins were so much more agreeable than this newer one. Well, not that you could even call those three robin anymore. The newer robin was very possessive of the name, and you'd rather not have to search your room for more stray feathers that flew off in their next fight. Your soul animals were such a pain.
The flutter of wings distracts you from your musings. You look up, finding the very bat you had been so cautiously avoiding earlier descend onto your desk. The bat chirped a little, with the robin occasionally replying back with chirps of its own. They were having their own conversation.
You decided you were owed a break already, so you gave up on your dreams of getting work done in lieu of watching the ongoing conversation. It was rare for soul animals to talk. They didn't need to. Due to the nature of a soul bond, soul animals act on the innermost feelings of the soul they represent. The bond connects souls, so soul animals, which are a manifestation of the bond, are already intune with their soulmates.
The only instance in which soul animals did tend to talk, was if the soulmates themselves were talking.
Robin chittured with a snap, the bat in return giving a controlled chirr.
Oooh. You thought to yourself. This sounds like an argument. You wondered what it was about. Maybe Robin pecked one too many victims, or caused a mess again.
Ah. You were thinking of your bonded as just animals again. To be fair, it was fairly easy. The only things you knew of your soulmates were because of how the animals acted. Anything else, and you were in the dark. That's how you wanted to think, anyway.
Maybe while they were distracted… You scoot back a little in your chair, until you figure you’re out of their line of sight. You make for the door, tipping out of your seat as quietly as you can. You're almost out the door when a weight settles itself on your head.
You sigh.
“Robin. Get off me, please.”
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the presence doesn't budge. Obliging, you reach up to your head, feeling the bird’s little feet jump onto your hand. Bringing Robin to eye level, you stare at it, unimpressed.
A nearby bat of wings draws you out of your faceoff. Guess sneaking out on your own was too much to ask for, as always.
“Ughhh.” You whine. Your soulmates were going to push you into complete isolation at this rate.
“Fine. You two already know the drill.”
You point at the Bat. “You can never follow me, I mean it. A bat is way too ominous of a soul animal to be flying around. It's just asking for trouble.”
The Bat remains silent, watching. Always, watching. You really hated it sometimes.
In all honesty, a robin wasn't too great of a soul animal to have with you in Gotham either. But your robins came in odd colours, so people didn't always clock that the bird was actually a robin. Sometimes you said that your soul animal was a greenfinch or a swallow. It tended to work, as long as no one looked twice.
A bat was much harder to hide.
“So..”. You give up, gesturing to your bag. “Just get in already, I'll make the trip quick.” You always had to make any outings short with this particular robin. If you spent too long with someone it got snippy. Very, snippy.
The other three robins tended to be a bit more accommodating. Well, not by much.
Robin glides into your bag, a movement of precision and grace. Not for the first time, you wonder what your bonded was like in person.
Deciding to dismiss the thought, you unlatch your door, heading out.
Just another day, with your soulmates.
~ ~ ~ ~
Your parents told you about your birth. You were born to a bat watching your window. It wasn't such a red flag, at first. The maternity ward was flush with newborn babes, so your parents figured that the bat was bound to another child. It was what they had hoped for, anyway.
Plenty of children weren't born with soulbonds. It wasn't a concern. They could be the elder of a bond. Or, they could have a delayed bond. They weren't concerned.
But… then it followed you home. Your parents settled you down, snug in your crib. When they next came to check up upon you, it was there. Perched upon the crib, watching you. When they next blinked, it was gone.
The very next day, your parents awoke to the Bat watching you again. But this time, a smaller bird was snuggled to your sleeping face. It clung to you all day, refusing to disappear when they appeared like the Bat did. It was… very mouthy.
They had assumed this to be a good development, everyone knew The Night worked alone. They were happy.
They were happy, even when another robin appeared the subsequent day. A scruffy one, snappy. Its feathers were still growing out. Young.
Perhaps they should have expected then, that the dawn the next new day would bring another little bird to your crib. The youngest one, a nestling still developing pin feathers. Despite its age, it held a keen gaze at them.
There weren't any more animals that appeared after that. So they hid any evidence of the Bat, and instead allowed you to grow up freely with your three birds.
The Bat was evidently the oldest in your soulbond. It was protective, almost parental, in its movements. It had a sixth sense for when you were in any danger, always emerging from the shadows with perfect timing. If a bat wasn't such a symbolic image in Gotham, you'd probably be more appreciative of its efforts.
The eldest bird was silly, performing aerial tricks and jumps that always brightened your day. It was keen, focusing on you whenever you felt down. It had the uncanny ability to appear whenever you were under the weather. When you said the word robin, it snapped to attention.
You decided to call it Robin.
The second bird was protective. It wasn't as loud as the eldest, but there was a spark of kindness in its gaze. Originally the bird was a lot rougher, but it started to calm down a few years in. Became stable. It always seemed to find you when you got stuck on homework, or landed on your shoulder whenever you flipped through a book.
The third bird was small. You assumed it was only a year or two older than you, due to how the bird’s feathers grew in. It wasn't as affectionate as the other two. Solitary, it often lingered in the shade. It watched you. It watched your other soul animals too, when they appeared. It seemed a little tired. It took you a bit, but eventually you realised it was lonely. After that, you always had a comforting word.
That is… until the Batman gained a partner. A boy decked out in green and yellow, the same feathers on your eldest bird. The vigilante called itself Robin.
As the duo gained notoriety, you were hidden more and more. There was danger in soulbonds, and nothing was more dangerous than vigilantes.
Robin became Nightwing. Your eldest bird grew in blue feathers. The bird stopped responding to its name. A new boy became Robin. You spotted green and yellow feathers growing in on your second bird. It started answering to Robin.
You knew who your soulmates were. After that, it was no secret. Not to you, not to your parents.
Your parents weren't happy anymore. But you were safe. They could be content with that. They considered reaching out. The evidence was obvious, they knew it, and you knew it. Maybe you could be even safer, if the Batman knew where you were.
And then you watched your Robin die.
The little bird had been stuck to you recently, seeming to be in an argument with the Bat. When in conflict, soul animals gravitated to those they weren't in disparity with, and this was nothing unfamiliar to you.
You had been stroking the little bird, as it rested on your lap. But then it jumped. It started shaking. It started crying. Bleeding.
You panicked. You tried to comfort it, to whisper caring words, to give a reassuring touch. You were young, you didn't know what to do. There was nothing you could do.
When a soulmate dies, the soul animal dies too.
The little Robin died, crying in your lap.
You had never looked at vigilantes the same way again.
There was no point in denial, not after that. Your bat became the Bat, the eldest robin named Wing. A few days later, your youngest soul animal developed new feathers. Green… and red. You didn't have a name for the bird, but you suspected you would soon.
You took a week off school.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Please be quiet, this time.” You muttered down to the green bird resting in your bag. It started at you with a condescending gaze. Ugh. Younger soulmates.
You'd sigh, but you've been doing that far too much lately as is.
Time to get this over with.
You enter the supermarket, one of your very few weekly outings. You start perusing the shelves, picking out what was in your list. As you're walking though, you hear a frustrated bark. You peak out from the shelves, spotting a lone woman tugging a leashed dog along.
Ah. You knew what this was. Everyone did. The other shoppers in the store paused too, staring at what was going on.
It was a rejected bond. When feelings between single soulbonded individuals become too bitter, the soul animal dissipates. Well, it was supposed to, and then reappear when feelings improve. But if the animal was constrained in some manner, then the animal can't disappear and is forced to remain in a physical form.
Judging from the leash on the dog’s neck, this was that same scenario. It was rather bold of the woman to bring the soul animal out in public if it was rejecting her like this. Almost brave.
Gothamites rarely helped each other, but things became a little sensitive with soul animals. You wouldn't be too surprised if there wasn't at least one attempt to free the dog today. It certainly caught attention. It could even catch.. vigilante attention.
You frowned. It was a shame to cut one of your few outings short. Sometimes there was no alternative though. You certainly wouldn't be sticking around.
You jumped at the sound of a shriek, eyes darting down to your bag where Robin rested. Robin glared venomously at your shoulder, and you glanced at it.
Your shoulder where… Ah. That would do it. Your shoulder where Red rested. Your third robin. You felt like crying. Why, why this pair?
You didn't even feel the bird as it appeared. Was that a testament to Red's stealth or your lacking observational skills?
Robin glared daggers at Red, practically hissing. You didn't even know birds could hiss. Red paid him no mind, instead looking very settled on your shoulder. The bird even snuggled your face a little. What a smug guy.
Another bark caught your attention. You glanced forward, remembering the scene. Your soul animal’s squabbling would draw too much attention. If any of the vigilantes were watching, you'd be in trouble. One robin soul animal was potentially excusable. But two? That would get you caught.
You tried to shush the two, a small signal for them to knock it off. Naturally, because it was these two, they ignored you. You groaned. This was far too public.
You grabbed Red, snatching him off your shoulder as gently as you could. Placing him gently into your shoulder bag, you tried your best to pretend the resulting screech from Robin wasn’t noticeable. The flap of your bag was closed, so no one could spot them… They could certainly hear if they came close enough though.
Time to leave. You paid for what you picked up and dashed out. The sight of rejected soulmates was generally considered disturbing, so anyone watching could just attribute your rush to that.
Were you paranoid?
Mayhaps a little.
You've justified it by the fact that you're probably soulmates with Batman and 4 robins, so paranoia is practically a requirement for your soul.
____
Hello ^ ^ welcome to my soulmate au! I do hope you enjoyed.
If you have any questions about the au, please feel free to reach out :D
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theerurishipper · 7 months ago
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Twitter AU Masterpost
I decided to compile a list of my Twitter posts, and just put in a little summary of what goes on in each so anyone who wants to can find whichever one they want.
Now also on AO3:
Part 1
Damian bullies Bruce and Dick messes with him, Bruce simps for Superman on main and Clark and Damian take on a hater in the replies, Jason wants to be verified and his siblings bully him a little.
Part 2
A fan of Nightwing's gets a picture of him and Robin and Red Robin battle it out in the replies while Flash stirs up shit, Donna posts a picture of Dick and the Fab Five take on a hater, Damian texts Dick about his profile picture, a lucky Gothamite snaps not one but two pictures of Batblob.
Part 3
Nightwing posts a picture and the people of Bludhaven take the time to appreciate him, Red Robin reminisces about kicking Red Hood and Red Hood gets bullied some more, Batman posts a picture of baby Robin!Dick and everyone coos over it, Riddler questions how Batman got his Twitter handle.
Part 4
A warning is issued for Gotham vigilantes about Batman and Catwoman getting busy and Nightwing's trauma about this is addressed, the debate over Batman's sex life is put to rest, Talia issues a clarification and sets the record straight, Gotham discusses Bruce's emo era.
Part 5
Lex hateposts about superheroes and Bruce annihilates him in the replies, there's an investigation into the matter of Luthor's handle, a mysterious troll makes an appearance, Dick questions Clark, Bruce reveals his and Clark's shenanigans from Dick's Robin days, and a hater is given even more power.
Part 6
Lex is salty and Lois and Clark tear him apart, Superman posts a picture and is accused of plagiarism, Nightwing starts a trend, Babs takes issue with her overuse of coffee being questioned.
Part 7
Oracle and Red Hood reveal the story of why Joker is banned from Twitter, the people of Gotham reminisce about an old tradition, Bruce gets roasted by Alfred, Damian has a wholesome interaction.
Part 8
Damian bonds with Dick and gets trolled by Steph, Spoiler finally creates an account, Spoiler poses a question to the people of Gotham, Batman is bullied by his kids and a billionaire.
Part 9
Spoiler gets a present, mistakes have consequences, Red Robin questions Nightwing's decisions, a resident of North Dakota has a life changing experience.
Part 10
Some well-meaning Gothamites stand up for Red Hood and Oracle gives a history lesson, an old face makes a less than triumphant return, the fab five have some fun, a relatable photo of Batman reveals something more and a new player enters the picture.
Part 11
Harley Quinn beats up Joker, Flash is disgusted by Nightwing, Batman's hypocrisy is revealed, Superman has some fun at Batman's expense.
Part 12
Black Canary fondly remembers a better time, Green Arrow confronts Batman, Green Arrow issues an apology, Oliver schemes and plots, a well-kept secret is finally revealed.
Part 13
Arsenal reveals a personal secret, the people discuss some new revelations, the fab five weigh in on Arsenal's problems, Nightwing takes a stand.
Part 14
The Gotham villains share some opinions, Two-Face and Riddler have an argument, Flash finally picks a side, Green Arrow evades responsibility.
Part 15
Some observers share some hot takes, the Superfam witnesses a breakdown, Lois asks Bruce for help, Dick puts an end to the ongoing feud, everyone starts to move on.
Part 16
Deathstroke shares a story of a failed assassination, someone loses their Twitter privileges, the Court of Owls tries to recruit Nightwing, Talon gets more than he bargained for, some very recent history repeats itself.
Part 17
Bruce is a meme, The League has some concerns about their monthly budget, Nightwing's personality confuses everyone who knows him.
Part 18
Bruce's mistakes reveal his most defining character trait, an early present for Superman causes chaos in the present, Superman's reactions to the goings on lead to some pleasant destructive results, Bruce's inability to understand memes is discussed
Part 19
Red Hood shares an embarrassing opinion, Red Robin starts an argument, Superman wins massively, the superhero community can agree on one thing.
Part 20
The villains discuss their least favorite Robin, Nightwing defends his pettiness, Red Hood endures some misplaced blame, Tim explains his masterful plan, Jason finally gets a win.
Part 21
The Court of Owls is humbled, Nightwing's friends face a problem, a culprit is found responsible, Arsenal gets in hot water.
Part 22
One of Bruce's childhood obsessions is revealed, Riddler tries to call out Batman and runs his mouth online, Riddler issues an apology, the Wayne kids' comments about Bruce eccentric habits reveals their own inadequacies.
Part 23
A tweet is posted by a concerning individual, the heroes find a surprising ally, Superman is the victim of a prank, Superman fires back.
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luvly-writer · 9 days ago
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Who's Afraid of Little Old Me
Batfamily x Neglected! Reader
Author's note: So originally, this was supposed to be only ONE shot...but I suck at making those so it will be a TWO shot. I am writing the second one right now as well so it will be posted at the same time.
Warnings: Neglectful family, long chapter
Part 2 // Part 3
---
These walls suffocated you. They truly did.
At first, when your mother had announced that Damian, your twin brother, and you would be leaving your home to live with your father, you were kind of excited. As much as Nanda Parbat was a home to you, you were excited to see the world, and finally feel free. Being the "spare twin" certainly allowed you to have more freedom than Damian growing up. Both of you were trained exactly the same way, yet, whilst your grandfather prefer to hone your brother's skill in other areas, you had the flexibility of running around and doing as you went. But no bird is truly free if they still live in a cage. So...
You were excited and that excitement lasted precisely two weeks. Damian and you had been close all your life, being twins kind of facilitated that. You trained together, ate together, read together, you spent the majority of your life together. You had each other's back; he was your solace and companion, your best friend. No one else in the world would ever get you like him. That's part of the reason Talia sent both of you. Growing up, no one could ever separate the two of you, not even your grandfather....well, that was until a certain Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne entered your lives.
Unlike your twin, you had no interest in being part of the vigilante business. It was well known that both of you were different in your character. Where Damian was brash, you were softer; he was ruthless, you were diplomatic; he was violent and cunning, you were elegant and merciful. That distinction was what made your grandfather direct Damian to be the heir of the Demon head. You were glad that you were away from the League as it would help you create an identity that didn't directly come from them and that became a problem.
Sure, it was two that came to stay at Wayne Manor, but only one was integrated into the family. It was disappointing, to say the least. Bruce favored Damian and whenever you tried to call him out on it, he'd blame it on the fact that Damian needed more help. As if it wasn't the two of you that came from the same place. Sure, you were tame and gentle, but you were just as Damian. The League didn't train an assassin and a princess. No, they had honed two weapons. Dick followed Bruce in that same thought process and it got even worst once he had to fill in as Batman temporarily. As much as he clashed heads with Damian, Tim enjoyed going par to par with his new brother. Jason knew both of them back when he was resurrected. You loved him as if he were your brother as well and you thought that it was reciprocated...until you roamed the halls of the manor and realized he never joked around with you the same way he did with Damian. You wanted to blame it on the fact that they were boys and maybe that got them to get along better...but it wasn't just that was it...Cassandra loved to bond with Damian because they were both child assassins but so! were! You! Stephanie loved to ruffle his hair and call him Little Bat, and Barbara would sit and try to explain modern terminology with him and laugh when he found it absurd. It didn't make sense.
Both of you went through the same thing, yet you had to understand why he needed more help and attention and love than you. It devastated you. You had read online that it was good to find healthy outlets to let out your frustrations, so you decided to find extracurriculars. Maybe if you required attention, it would be given to you, right? I mean, Robin was Damian's extracurricular in a way, right?
You took up ice skating. You found beauty in the sport and given that you had training, you were excelling at it. Given that your father was a busy man, he was never one to take you to practice. He just paid for the coach, the team, the skates, the outfits, and all the fees necessary. Alfred, may he be blessed, was your solace and would often be found taking you to practices and would stay for support. You had great potential for someone of such a young age and your coaches would never fail to remind you. Your first competition came and you were through the roof with excitement. You would talk Damian's ear off, who always made time for you regardless of what was happening around the house. You would mention it in passing to anyone who would engage in even the smallest of conversations with you. You went as far as printing the competition flyers and sticking them on Bruce's desk, the Batcomputer, and the fridge. Surely, no one would forget.
Oh, you poor thing...no one came besides Alfred. Damian and Bruce had some sort of mission; Dick was in Bludhaven; Jason was too busy with the Outlaws, Tim had a Wayne Enterprise meeting, Barbara had made plans that day with Stephanie and Cass and they couldn't be changed. Had they not heard you? Did they not see the flyers? The only one had the decency to apologize was Damian, but he was your brother, your twin, of course, he didn't mean to miss it. You had won gold and your teammates had invited you to eat out. When you ran all the way to where your family was supposed to be, you only saw Alfred with a beautiful flower bouquet.
Having seen your disappointed face, he quickly made a mental note to scold everyone later tonight and tried to cheer you up.
"Marvelous, miss Y/n! Simply wonderful. I don't think I had ever been delighted by such a choreography before" He praised and you took it to heart, giving him a smile. That night he allowed you to stay later, having one of your teammate's mother bring you back from the restaurant.
This didn't change over time. Competitions and practices with Alfred only. After that first competition, Damian would try to at least go to your practices but that lessened as time passed and he was needed as Robin. Forgotten competitions turned to forgotten birthdays it seemed. After a year, when your birthday came around, you were ecstatic knowing that your favorite day of the year and you would celebrate it with your favorite person in the whole world. That day, your friend's parents had asked Alfred if they could surprise you in the morning with something special and then leave you in the Manor during the afternoon so that you would have time with your family. Seeing how loved you were outside of your family, Alfred agreed.
You were positive that your day was going to be perfect. Damian had woken you up and you both exchanged gifts first thing in the morning, just like you did in the League. He had gotten you a new pair of skates and you had gotten him a bunch of new art supplies. You ate breakfast with Damian and forced Alfred to sit with you both and eat as well. You went along with your day, having Alfred tell you that you had a special surprise. He had taken you to the park where your friends and their parents awaited you with a surprise picnic. Soon the afternoon neared and you were in the limo telling Alfred about the wonderful morning you were having. To into in your story, you failed to see his worried and pitiful gaze. As you went into the Manor, hands full of gifts from your friends and cheeks hurting from laughing and smiling so much, you were met with a sight that broke your heart.
Damian blowing the candles of a cake with your entire family surrounding him, clapping and singing. Your face, just like your heart, fell. You look up at Alfred and whisper, "Did you know?"
To which he responded in a soft voice, "No, my dear, I was helping your friends plan your party. The bake, I did do, but I thought we would wait for you..."
With eyes glazed with unshed tears, you nodded and it took seeing Damian's small smile as Dick bearhugged him to know...you weren't part of them.
You had begun to separate yourself from them and Damian had noticed. He had tried to apologize for your birthdays but you wouldn't listen. What kind of person would forget their twin? After some time, he stopped trying. The ridge between you had started to grow and if you were being stubborn, he wouldn't waste his time.
---
Weeks passed. Months passed. And little old Y/n had been forgotten. Dick was always too busy and only knew how to say "Not now, kid." Jason would wave to you on occasion. You weren't sure if Tim was even aware that you still lived there. Cass only spared you a glance. Stephanie looked pained if you ever tried to talk to her. Barbara was too awkward around you. Bruce had never really tried much with you and that was clear from the start. Damian felt distant each day more and more. Your only solace was ice skating, Alfred, and your mom. Weeks after your birthday, you had sneaked out and contacted your mother. She arrived as soon as she could. She would never deny her baby girl. I mean, the world always wanted Damian, but she, she was hers. There, Y/n told her everything as she broke down into tears. She had been the perfect daughter and sister, yet it would never matter cause they didn't care. Talia, clearly bothered by this, promised to talk with Bruce and Damian yet Y/n reassured her that Alfred had tried so many times and it had never worked. With the promise of finding a solution that didn't involve Bruce or Damian, her mother left.
After a few weeks, Y/n would notice that the watching eyes of her mother would be on her during practice and competitions. It was good to have one parent there. She wouldn't be able to attend most of the time, but she made an effort. Alfred caught her once when she was giving you flowers and Y/n begged for him to keep it a secret.
It was good to have something.
---
Years passed. Birthdays were spent having breakfast with Alfred, avoiding her twin, out with her friends, and occasionally, sneaking out to see her mother. Y/n wasn't heartless, though. Every year she would sneak a present that normally came from her and their mother into Damian's room. He was still her beloved twin after all. She had gotten used to competitions with little company. Even when she had won an award for being a prodigious skater, it was Alfred, the flowers he had bought her, and the ones her mother had sneaked into her house. She was fine, she claimed. Being ignored and forgotten didn't sting her heart as much as it did before, and she definitely didn't cry every time one of her siblings passed by her and acted as if they bumped into a piece of furniture. Hearing Damian refer to Cassandra as sister and only call her by her name didn't shatter her heart, no it only made her so unfocused in practice that she fell in the middle of her choreography. Coming back home after a day with her friends and seeing all of the decorations for Damian's birthday didn't slowly kill her on the inside anymore, no she just played music super loud when she took showers so no one would hear her sobs.
The breaking point? Duke Thomas.
She didn't have something against him directly, no. It was his arrival. Seeing her supposed family, her twin, welcome him with open arms broke her absolutely. Seeing them dine with him, joke around with him, smile with him, celebrate with him, and love him shattered her. It had been five years of this torment and she couldn't bear it anymore. So...she made a call.
"Mother....I think I want to go home.."
----------------
566 notes · View notes
sansaorgana · 8 months ago
Text
— STILL WATERS RUN DEEP
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — He's a psychotic killing machine and you're a shy and innocent lady. You have nothing in common except for the fact your bloodlines have been manipulated for centuries to create a match. And you seem to be destined to be together.
REQUEST — (1) // (2) // (3)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — I don't write children!Readers unless it's for the retrospections and memories. That's why I combined all these requests into one fic. Some parts of the requests didn't make it but I felt like it was already getting long 🙈 I included the trope of Feyd and Reader being destined to be together – some sort of Soulmates AU, I guess? ✨
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, spiders, mentions of Baron Harkonnen abusing Feyd, SMUT, fingering, oral, hints of innocence kink, The Harpies being a bit non-consensual
WORD COUNT — 7,500
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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STILL WATERS RUN DEEP
Giedi Prime was surely a scary and intimidating place for a twelve years old girl. The lack of colour and friendly faces made you shiver and anxiously cling to your father’s hand. You couldn’t understand why he had insisted on you accompanying him on this official state visit for the meeting with Baron Harkonnen. He would never want to take you with him to much more pleasant places. You were too young to understand the hidden agenda, the Bene Gesserit scheming – whose plans had been destroyed by Lady Jessica giving birth to a son instead of a daughter. They needed a new match for the young na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, The Baron’s nephew. After years of searching and studying many possibilities, they had decided to create a union between your House and The Harkonnens. Your father was more than happy – it was an honour to bond with such a powerful family. You were from one of the planets of a lesser importance. That was the reason for The Baron’s distrust towards the plan. He would rather see his nephew marrying a great lady, perhaps even an Imperial Princess.
While he talked to your father, you were left alone with no one but one guard in an empty room. You were sitting on a black couch and looking with awe at the portraits on the walls. All men looked the same on them – big, bald, hairless and scary. They fascinated you as much as they intimidated you.
After a while, the doors leading to the corridor opened and you startled at the sight of a boy more-less your age entering confidently with a contemptuous look upon his face. He looked like all The Harkonnens – sickly and scary. He was wearing clothes you had only seen on gladiators and warriors before but it looked disturbing on a body so skinny and small, even though he was tall for his age. There was a splash of blood upon his face and it made you gasp and take a step back. He smirked at you.
“So, that’s you? Disappointing,” he commented harshly as you swallowed thickly.
“What are you talking about? Who are you?” You looked nervously at the guard but he remained stoic.
“I’m Feyd,” he introduced himself. “My training has been interrupted and I’ve been told to meet you for whatever reason. Haven’t expected such a scared, little bunny,” he sneered and you spotted his teeth were black. They didn’t look rotten, though.
“What happened to your teeth?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.
“My Uncle made the medics paint them black to intimidate my enemies,” he answered, proudly.
“What kind of enemies might a twelve year old have?” You asked, surprised.
You had no enemies. Your life was of a typical spoiled young lady – full of mother’s kisses, father’s embraces, candies, ponies and maids braiding your hair in the evening while telling you tales of handsome and brave prince charmings. You couldn't imagine that it was different for other people.
“You’re stupid,” Feyd pointed out and you shut your mouth, feeling hurt at his words as tears pricked your eyes. He approached you and you took a step back, scared of him. “Don’t cry,” he tilted his head at the sight of your wet eyes. “Has no one ever told you that you were stupid?” Now it was his time to be surprised and you shook your head. “Do you want to see something?” He proposed as his eyes sparkled.
“I’m scared,” you admitted, genuinely.
“I will protect you,” he offered his pale hand and you looked at it with fear in your eyes.
“I am scared of you,” you raised your eyes to lay them on his face again while you explained.
“Good,” he nodded with a chuckle. “But I’d get in trouble if something happened to you. You are the daughter of my uncle’s guest. Come,” he encouraged.
Your status gave you courage as your curiosity only fueled your desire to actually follow him. Just like the portraits on these walls – he was as intimidating as fascinating to you. Perhaps because you had never before met such a boy.
You took his cold hand and a shiver went down your spine. For a short while, you thought you would faint as an odd feeling filled your small body. A familiar warmth that you only felt when you were back home, in your bed, feeling safe and sound with the nanny or your mother caressing your head to help you sleep. Like he was home. But he couldn’t be. You had never met him and he was scary. 
“Have you felt that, too?” You gasped.
“No,” Feyd lied. “Come,” he dragged you behind him and the guard opened the doors in front of you.
Feyd took you down the corridor and led you downstairs to some sort of dungeons beneath the fortress. You were starting to have a bad feeling about it but something deep inside you made you trust that odd boy. Without understanding it yet, you were starting to realise he was the one who had been meant for you from the day you were born. There was some connection between your bloodlines that was drawing you towards each other.
You found yourself in an old, dark and damp room. It smelt of something rotten and it was full of spiderwebs.
“What is this place? It’s disgusting,” you pointed out as you winced. Feyd let go of your hand and sneered at you.
“Life is unpleasant. The sooner you learn that, the better,” he pointed out and suddenly, he reached for a short knife by his waist you had not noticed before. You yelped at the sight, convinced he had only dragged you there to kill you.
“Don’t be silly, I won’t hurt you,” he rolled his eyes and you nodded, unsurely. “Do you want to see me kill something?” He smirked playfully at you.
It felt wrong and you felt the anxiety rising in your abdomen when you realised you’d get in trouble for that. On the other hand, you did want to see him kill something. It was curiosity mixed with excitement to witness something forbidden and something you had been sheltered from.
“Yes,” you nodded, eagerly. He was a little surprised at your reaction but he only smiled.
Feyd beckoned you over by waving his hand and you followed him, quietly. Then you gasped and covered your mouth as you gagged out of disgust at the sight of a big, fat spider in the corner of the room. It was huge – nearly as big as you were. But it was also fat and slow. The legs were long and thin, furry black sticks.
“I found it a few days ago,” Feyd told you as he looked at your disgusted face. “Gross, isn’t she?”
You nodded.
“She reminds me of my uncle,” Feyd explained with hatred in his voice. “Do you see those small spiders on the ground?” He asked and you looked down. It was full of smaller spiders but they were all laying there dead. “She feeds off of her own children.”
You took a step back, utterly disgusted and sick. Feyd snorted at you and turned his back on you to gut the big, black spider. You watched with terror how much satisfaction it was giving him. He struck the monstrosity so many times that you lost count. He kept striking when it was already laying there dead.
“That’s enough,” you whispered and Feyd froze before turning around to face you. There was pure murder in his eyes and when he walked towards you with a knife in his hand, you were sure he would kill you now, too.
You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes, expecting the worst. But when you felt his breath on your face, you heard him hiding the knife away.
“Stupid little bunny,” he told you and you opened your eyes, hesitantly. He was staring at you as if he was studying your face.
The door opened suddenly and a few guards entered, sighing out of relief. Your father was standing behind them, scared. Baron Harkonnen was there as well, floating ominously.
“There you are!” He raised his voice and you spotted that all Feyd’s confidence was gone in a second. The boy looked down and blushed. “I’ve told you to behave. Why are you scaring Lady (Y/N)?!”
You turned around to face The Baron, hiding his nephew’s from his sight with your small body.
“He did not scare me, my Lord,” you assured with a slight bow of your head. “I wanted Feyd-Rautha to show me around,” you lied to protect him.
You had a feeling his uncle would punish him and he looked like a man you would never want a punishment from.
“She’s naive,” your father tried to save the situation. “Curiosity killed the cat,” he reminded you and grabbed you by your wrist to pull you closer to him. “Forgive my daughter, my Lord Baron.”
“She is forgiven,” the big man smirked viciously before lying his eyes on his nephew. “The boy, however, is not.”
You wanted to protest but your father gave you a stern look and announced it was time for you to leave now. So, you obeyed and walked away, following the guard leading you out of the corridor. But you kept looking behind, trying to see Feyd-Rautha for the last time.
“Will I see him again?” You asked your father, looking up.
“Who?”
“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” you explained and your father sighed as he looked down at you.
“You will in eight years,” he announced. “You will become his wife.”
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Those eight years you had not wasted a day, practising for your new role every day. Learning all about The Harkonnens; their culture, their history, their customs and war strategies. You knew that their nobility would not give you an easy time for being a Lady of the lesser house. You wanted to prove your worth with knowledge.
Your wisdom was your only weapon because you lacked confidence nor experience in nearly anything. Sheltered your whole life, surrounded by books and teachers, you were shy and innocent. The spider incident on Giedi Prime still remained your only sin – that no one except your husband-to-be possessed the knowledge of.
You had not been in touch with him at all but the stories had reached you about his nature and his victories in the gladiator arena. You believed them all because your short encounter had been enough to give you an idea about what kind of man he would become. You had never protested whenever your marriage was mentioned but you felt anxious. You didn’t belong on Giedi Prime, you didn’t fit in the world of death and violence.
Tested by Gom Jabbar, you nearly failed the test. The scary Reverend Mother gave your mother a look of disapproval. On the very next day you were shipped to Giedi Prime for your wedding, though. You had survived the trial and only that mattered – the long-planned scheming couldn’t be sabotaged.
On the day of your arrival, you were led with your parents to a room you had remembered from your last visit. There was the same black couch and the same portraits on the wall – only now there was one more than before. The last one in line, of a young man with handsome facial features, signed with your betrothed’s name. You opened your mouth slightly as you kept staring at it. He was a young and handsome na-baron; a strong warrior surrounded by men and women who admired him. You could only imagine how inconvenient a marriage had to be for him. Especially to an uninteresting and unimportant woman like you.
The doors opened and you turned around to see him in real life as he entered the room in black gladiator gear. He looked better than in the portrait – raw and magnetic, dangerous. Your parents stiffened at the sight of him and they both bowed their heads.
“Lord Na-Baron,” your father greeted him. “We have delivered our daughter to you, according to the agreement,” he explained. “We have hoped to be greeted by your uncle The Baron.”
“He’s busy,” Feyd interrupted your father in a low and raspy voice that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes were only fixated on you – curious and mocking. You bowed down slightly as well, not wanting to disrespect him.
“Y-yes, of course, my Lord…” your father took a step back.
“You’re grown now,” Feyd-Rautha stood in front of you with a smirk and you took a deep, shaky breath in.
“So are you, my Lord Na-Baron,” you nodded.
“She hasn’t changed a bit,” Feyd turned around to give your father a contemptuous look. “A timid little bunny. But it’s no surprise since she’s been raised by a coward and bootlicker like you.”
“My daughter is of many qualities, my Lord, I can assure you…” your father panicked.
“A wife only needs one quality,” Feyd sneered at him as your blood ran cold at his words. “Show them to their rooms,” he told the guards and left the room.
“I can’t believe you’ve made deals with these people,” your mother snapped angrily at your father who was standing there with his head kept low, ashamed.
But it was not like he had any saying in this. It was the plan of the Bene Gesserit. You were nothing but pawns in it. You tried to remember that Feyd-Rautha was a pawn, too.
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After the scary and bloody wedding party, you were taken to your husband’s bedroom where you were supposed to be prepared for the wedding night. However, it was not the maids waiting for you there. Three bald Harkonnen women were sitting on your husband’s bed and smirking at you, showing off their sharp teeth. They were dressed in black leather and clinging to each other as if they were one body instead of three.
“We will prepare her for the Master,” one of them told the servants who had taken you there. You looked at them with panic and they only looked back with guilt and compassion before walking out as quickly as possible, leaving you alone with the scary snake-like creatures.
They were circling around you, sniffing you and chuckling contemptuously. You didn’t understand anything but you tried to bravely keep still and endure. Then, one of them approached you and licked a fat stripe across your cheek. Your eyes widened in terror.
“Oh-so-innocent,” she commented. “Have you ever pleased a man?” She asked.
You were terrified and embarrassed, you didn’t know what to do.
“N-no, my Lady,” you stuttered and nodded your head, unsure how to address her.
They all found it amusing as they laughed.
“My Lady, she calls me. I might like this one,” the woman caressed your hair with some sort of perverted delicacy that made you feel even more scared. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands turned cold and sweaty. “I’m not a lady, na-baroness. I am your husband’s whore,” she informed you and you nodded again, hesitantly. “We are his favourite pets. You see… Our Master likes perversion,” her hands landed on your hips as she pulled you closer to her body. “We will teach you how to please him and how to take him.”
“He’s a lot to take,” another woman stood behind you and grabbed your breasts from behind.
“W-won’t he mind, my husband?” You swallowed thickly.
“Not at all,” the third one giggled. “He always shares his toys.”
“Not this one,” the doors opened as Feyd-Rautha entered the room. He glanced at the women angrily and they immediately let go of you and moved away. “She is not a toy, she is your na-baroness. What are you doing here?” He snapped. “Have I not forbidden you from entering this room from now on?”
“Oh, Master…” one of them approached him to put her arms around his neck but he pushed her away.
“Get out,” he hissed and they ran away.
When the doors closed behind them, Feyd looked at you and sighed before approaching you and caressing your cheek.
“You alright, wife?” He asked.
“Y-yes, thank you,” you nodded and flinched at the feeling of his cold fingers brushing your cheek. An odd and out-of-place warmth started to fill you like all those years ago. It made him startled, too, and eventually he took a step back.
“You must be exhausted,” he only said as he looked away, awkwardly. “We can perform our duties in the morning.”
“Th-thank you,” you nodded. “I’ll go take a shower now…”
Feyd pointed at the doors leading to the bathroom and that was all for that night. When you came back to his bedroom, he was already gone. You went to sleep without him, confused by his behaviour.
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Baron Harkonnen watched carefully with his own eyes and through the eyes of his servants. He observed and he listened – nothing could ever escape him. But the new na-baroness was as easy to read as a book. When she joined him and Count Rabban by the breakfast table, she didn’t wince while sitting, which was an obvious sign she had not been claimed by Feyd the previous night. The Baron smirked when the new na-baroness began to eat the meal, keeping her timid gaze down, terrified of her surroundings.
If Feyd-Rautha refused to be her friend, The Baron would surely find her a purpose. She would be an easy tool to keep Feyd in place. A silent, obedient shadow following her husband everywhere. A perfect spy.
“Na-Baroness,” he addressed her and she flinched before looking up, scared. “I would like you to join the council after the meal. Your husband rarely takes part in them since he is too busy training but now you are an extension of him,” The Baron forced a smile and she nodded. “I’ve been told by your father you are well-trained in Harkonnen history and customs.”
“Y-yes, my Lord,” she bowed her head.
“I know that Feyd-Rautha is not an easy man to be around,” The Baron continued as Rabban raised his head, curious about his uncle’s scheming plan. “He’s been like this ever since he was a child. I’ve been trying to temper him.”
“I remember,” the young woman whispered.
“You can tell me about anything that is worrying you,” The Baron assured her and she smiled genuinely. “Has he hurt you?” He squinted his eyes, knowing the answer already but wanting to test her honesty.
“No, my Lord. Feyd-Rautha did not spend the night with me at all,” she answered and he nodded as Rabban sneered.
“You have to forgive him, my Lady. He prefers other… forms of entertainment,” The Baron explained softly.
“I believe I have met them, my Baron,” the woman looked down.
“Most likely, yes. They don’t like to share him,” The Baron chuckled.
“But the heir…”
“Do not worry about the heir. You are both still young, you have time. There is no need to hurry anything. Take your time to adjust on Giedi Prime first,” The Baron tried to calm her down and she looked up with so much gratitude in her eyes that he was sure he had succeeded. She was his agent now.
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To your own surprise, you found new friends in your husband’s family – his uncle and brother – but not him. Feyd-Rautha was mostly avoiding you and a few attempts to claim you were ending in a fiasco. You couldn’t understand why he would pull away suddenly and leave you without a word or fail to get hard enough no matter how long his touch lingered upon your body. It made you feel as if you were lacking, because you knew for sure he had no problems of this sort with his concubines. They often bragged to you about it. They had offered to help you to excite him and you nearly agreed to that but Feyd hated to see you around them. He snapped whenever he caught you talking to them or them approaching you.
He hated to see you around his uncle and brother, too. He had been warning you about them but it felt cruel to do so. Did he want you to not have any companionship at all? To be sad and lonely and miserable all your days?
You weren’t appreciated in marriage but you were appreciated as a part of this family – representing the na-baronship during the council meetings with your decisions and advice. The Baron seemed to be pleased with you and Count Rabban had stopped to make fun of you over time. Still waters run deep, The Baron would often say about you as your cheeks heated up and eyes sparkled. Perhaps all the years of studying the customs and tradition of this House would not be useful in your marriage but they seemed to be useful when it came to your political presence.
It still bothered you that Feyd-Rautha was acting so weirdly towards you. You remembered the boy he had been eight years earlier. You had never feared this union because you had been sure there was some sort of bond now between you two, some sort of connection. Perhaps you had been wrong.
It was right after one of Feyd’s failed attempts to claim you, when he left you half-naked in bed with tears pricking your eyes. He walked away and most likely went to his concubines as you fixed yourself and left the room, too, not wanting to remain in the chambers filled with the smell of embarrassment and humiliation anymore. You nearly crashed with your brother-in-law walking down the corridor.
“My Lady,” Rabban nodded at you. “Is everything alright?”
“Y-yes,” you answered, trying not to show your nervousness. There was no need for him to know the details about the problems your marriage was facing.
“I was just looking for you,” he confessed and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Tomorrow, my uncle wants me to lead the council meeting only for the most important members of the court. It’s about a matter of a very high importance and it’s confidential,” he whispered. “I hoped you would join me. Without my uncle there, I will be the only one representing our family.”
“But tomorrow Feyd has his fight. I am expected to be in the stands,” you looked up at him.
“Uncle will be there. You are more needed here, (Y/N),” Rabban tried to convince you. You could see his hands were a little shaky – he was stressed about the responsibility placed upon his shoulders by his uncle. “It’s not like Feyd will even notice your absence,” he added.
You bit on your lower lip. He was right.
“Alright, I’ll join you in the council,” you nodded your head. “Our state affairs are much more important than some fixed gladiator fight anyway.”
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The servants’ slim fingers were applying the black paint upon Feyd-Rautha’s body as he observed his three harpies from the corner of his eye. They were giggling between each other and some of the words reached his sensitive ears.
“...naive…”
“Silly little thing.”
“...taste her heart…”
“What are you talking about, pets?” Feyd turned around to face them as he asked and they went silent.
“Nothing important, Master,” the bravest of them all answered eventually.
“I have a feeling you’re whispering about my wife,” Feyd pointed out.
“As I said, nothing important,” she chuckled and the rest giggled. Feyd squinted his eyes and approached them with a clenched jaw and an angry expression on his face. When he grabbed her by the chin, they stopped laughing.
“You are forbidden to even think of her,” he hissed out. “You’re not worthy of that.”
“M-Master…” She trembled as she pleaded for his softness. Her companions hid behind her and observed him carefully. “She doesn’t even know how to please you, Master.”
Feyd’s hand dropped down and the squeeze tightened around the woman’s neck. He watched her struggle to catch a breath for some time as he observed with a smirk. Eventually, he let go of her.
“My wife belongs to a different realm than you,” he stated. “She is not to be discussed, looked at, thought of… Am I understood?”
“Y-yes, Master,” they all nodded, obediently.
“Good,” he smiled and went back to the servant girls.
“You might be interested in the gossip, though, na-baron,” one of the concubines whispered. “We are your eyes and ears…”
Feyd pretended not to be intrigued although he was. He didn’t react, hoping she would say more. And so she did.
“Your uncle keeps the young na-baroness close. The rumour has it he wants to make her one of his agents. And she is slowly taking your place during the councils. Count Rabban is his Plan B if you fail. Then she will be given to him.”
“I’m sure Rabban won’t have a problem with fucking her,” the bravest concubine added as if his punishment had not worked at all. Because it didn’t. She loved his punishments. “Her innocence will only make him more eager. He will tear her apart.”
“Shut up!” Feyd growled, making the servant girls take a few steps back as he turned around to face the girl with a big mouth. “Let me remind you that I don’t need your tongue to fuck you,” he sneered. “Your sisters are better at using their tongues than you anyway.”
The woman looked down and he was informed that he was about to enter the arena in five minutes so he went back to putting the gear on, furiously clutching to his blades. He was grateful to his concubine for fueling his anger so much – he wanted to make good use of it in the arena.
But when he approached the tower with his uncle’s balcony to bow down, he spotted that his wife was not there. Suddenly, the fight made no sense to him at all. What was the point of putting on a show, what was the point of killing with grace when she could not watch?
He had been waiting eight years for her to come back. The timid little bunny girl that made him feel so warm inside. That made him feel like home. Nothing had ever made him feel this way. They were destined for each other. Now, when she was by his side, he had no idea what to do. He had been training his body for years to impress her and be able to protect her but nothing was working out the way he had planned. She was slipping away.
She was slipping away because of his uncle’s scheming and because Feyd-Rautha himself had no idea how to approach a creature so pure and innocent as this woman. If anything in this world was still able to save his rotten soul, it was her. But maybe he had been naive to think so. He was beyond saving.
He didn’t give the audience a show on that day. The fights were quick and swift. No playing with his victims, no tormenting. Just a kill after kill to finish it as fast as possible. And no bowing down at the end. He just walked out of the arena, still clutching his fists on the blood-dripping blades. He walked past the guards and servants, not wanting to change or bathe – he wanted one thing only. To find his wife.
The sounds of the cheering audience were becoming more and more quiet. They waited for him to walk back and bow down, raising his knife in the sign of victory. He had no plans in doing so. He would not kneel in front of his uncle. Not when his wife was not beside him, because it was her he had been kneeling for. Not Baron Harkonnen.
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The council was over now but you stayed inside the conference room with Count Rabban to discuss what had been decided and what to tell his uncle. You were staring at the maps of Arrakis and wondering whether the Emperor’s assurances of help were trustworthy.
“What I’m saying is… If he is so willing to get rid of The Atreides just because he considers them to be dangerous… He might do the same to us one day. We are a real danger to him way more than any Atreides is,” you pointed out.
“Especially now when we have knowledge that can turn other leaders against him and…” Rabban’s words were interrupted by the heavy black doors opening rapidly. You flinched and instinctively hid behind your brother-in-law’s broad shoulders.
It was Feyd-Rautha himself walking inside with an angry look on his face. Wearing his gladiator gear stained with fresh blood and still wielding two bloody swords. He looked ferocious as his cold eyes searched for you. When he spotted you behind his brother, his jaw clenched and so did his fists on the handles of the blades.
“What is going on here?” He barked as you and Rabban looked at each other, questioningly.
“Husband,” you tried to be brave as you took a step ahead to approach him very carefully. “I see you’re finished now. I assume you’ve won.”
“(Y/N), wait,” Rabban grabbed your sleeve to keep you in place. He didn’t want you near Feyd in such a state. But Feyd didn’t like his brother’s gesture.
“Let her go, brother,” he snapped. “She is my wife and she will approach me if she wishes. I would never lay my hand on her,” he drawled through gritted teeth.
You felt Rabban’s fingers letting go of the fabric of your dress and you walked up to Feyd. Something inside you was telling you that he needed you at that moment. Perhaps that was the intuition of a wife.
“Oh, we all know that you don’t lay your hand on her at all, brother,” Rabban snorted at him.
You watched in terror how your husband’s face became even more angry than before. He yelled and attacked his brother with all the burning wrath he had before been trying to stop from outbursting with.
“No! Stop! Please,” you pleaded as they fought and struggled one against another. Rabban took out his own blade now, too, and they ended up wrestling on the floor like two children. “That is enough, please!” You cried out.
Your tears brought attention to only one of them – your husband. He was distracted by them and ended up with his brother’s blade pointed at his face. You froze and Rabban laughed with contempt.
“Such a great warrior you are, my brother. Trained day and night for years, got your little arena shows… And now you got distracted by a woman,” he pointed out.
“That woman is my wife,” Feyd drawled.
You looked around in panic but the guards stood there petrified. They were afraid to attack any of the brothers. Usually shy and timid, you felt an odd outburst of courage as you took a blade from the guard standing nearby. He did not protest but only watched in terror as you approached the brothers and pointed the blade at Count Rabban himself.
“Don’t be stupid,” he laughed at you.
“Let my husband go,” your voice shivered but you managed to stand your ground.
“Or what?” Rabban sneered. “We both know you won’t strike me.”
In that very moment Feyd kicked him and got out of the direction of his brother’s blade. He ended up on top with his own knife pointed at Rabban. A smirk on his face revealed that he had never been defeated even for a second, he was only toying with his brother… and with you, too.
“She might not but I will,” Feyd hissed at his brother. “My marriage is none of your business, brother. And you stay away from my wife.”
“I am only representing you during the councils,” you tried to explain and Feyd looked up at you with his brow furrowed. “Your uncle told me I should because you rarely take place in them.”
“He’s scheming, can’t you see? Trying to turn us against each other. Thought you were smarter than this,” his anger was directed at you now.
He let go of Rabban and stood up to walk out of the room. You swallowed thickly and lowered your blade, scared of your brother-in-law’s reaction now when you were left alone with him after threatening him.
“Why did you take his side?” He only asked as you gave the blade back to the guard. “He doesn’t treat you any good. He never will.”
“He is my husband,” you explained quietly, avoiding his curious gaze.
“By name only. Your marriage is not even consummated.”
“Feyd was right,” you looked up. “Our marriage is none of your business, brother,” you emphasised who he was to you now before walking out to follow Feyd. It was easy because he left a trail of sand and blood from the arena behind him.
He went to your chambers so you took a deep breath in and pushed the doors open to face him in all his wrath and anger. He was struggling to get out of his gear with shaky hands as he shot you a furious glance over his shoulder.
“Should I call for the servants?” You asked.
“No,” he snapped and you sighed before approaching him and helping him yourself. At first he tried to shake you off but you were stubborn so he gave up and allowed your gentle fingertips to work on the pieces of clothing. “How do you even know how to do that?” He asked. “Did Rabban show you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, dear husband. I’ve read dozens of books about The Harkonnen art of warfare. I know your gears by heart. And Rabban is no gladiator,” you explained.
“Dozens of books about the art of warfare and The Harkonnens and yet it slipped your mind what masters of manipulation we can be?” Feyd barked at you and you chuckled. He didn’t find it amusing as he looked you up and down with contempt so you leaned in and placed a kiss upon his soft lips while your hands cupped his face. He was visibly taken aback by that, he didn’t even close his eyes for the kiss and he continued to observe you as if you would attack him any second.
“I have studied everything like a good pupil I was,” you whispered after breaking the kiss. Your hands kept caressing his cheeks in a soothing manner. “And now I’m one of The Baron’s closest people. I’m your inside man, Feyd-Rautha,” you smiled gently and his eyes sparkled at the realisation.
“But… why?” He only asked, confused.
“What do you mean why?” You bit on your lower lip.
“I’ve been treating you… coldly,” he admitted.
“Well, that is another matter. But that is between you and me. The marriage is between a husband and a wife. Not between them and his uncle or brother,” you explained. “I still remember that big fat spider. I’ve known ever since I was twelve years old that the thing you crave the most is to gut your uncle like you did to that monstrosity in the dungeons. And as your wife… I will do everything I can to help you,” you assured him.
But Feyd was not convinced. He pushed you away although he did it way gentler than you’d expect. He walked away from you as he stepped out of the pile of clothes by his feet. He was wearing nothing but underwear now and you watched how his muscular body glistened with sweat after the fight. 
“You can be a double agent, wife. I don’t trust you,” he confessed.
“You have no reasons to,” you nodded. “Except for the fact we have fate and destiny bonding us. Am I the only one feeling this when we touch?” Your voice lowered as uncertainty began to grow inside of you. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you were the only one feeling that warmth indeed.
“No,” Feyd admitted, nearly inaudibly. “Why do you think I can’t fuck you?” He approached you again and you gasped at how close he chose to stand.
“Because you find me unattractive? Or boring perhaps,” you shrugged your arms. “I don’t care about that. Our bond is stronger than physical attraction.”
“I can’t fuck you because that feeling is overwhelming me and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt like that. You’re too pure for me,” he confessed, visibly uncomfortable with his own words as he looked away.
You were stunned for a moment.
“You’re an idiot, Feyd-Rautha,” you laughed eventually and he blushed. “I am not pure. I am flesh and blood just like you,” you told him. “For example now… When you’re standing in front of me… like this,” you allowed your hand to wander all over his hard muscles. “You’re starting a fire that will be difficult to put out later,” you looked up to meet his gaze. “Every time you start and don’t finish, you leave me in torment,” you confessed. “And nothing helps,” you pouted. “I writhe and I roll around and grow more and more bitter knowing that you’re giving your whores what you’re supposed to give me.”
He was nearly paralyzed in a way he was staring at you. You grabbed his hand and pulled your dress up to press his hand to your womanhood. You were soaking through your underwear now and he blinked a few times as his gaze intensified.
“I will never forgive myself if I break you,” Feyd took his hand away despite your protests.
“You’re breaking me by refusing to touch me,” you whined.
“Touch yourself,” he said suddenly as his eyes sparkled and you were left speechless. “Touch yourself for me. I will help you. I’ll make it feel good,” he proposed.
Out of desperation, you decided this was better than nothing – at least for now – so you agreed. As fast as possible, you got rid of your dress and remained in nothing but your sheer underdress. You laid on the bed and watched him approach you. Feyd laid next to you, observing you carefully. His eyes were admiring every curve of your body and every inch of your skin. Without waiting for his command, you pulled the underdress up and took off your underwear to toss the panties aside and start playing with your wet folds. It was embarrassing to see him watch but it also excited you in some twisted way. You toyed with your clit, moaning softly, showing him what kind of pleasure you could bring to yourself – what kind of pleasure you had to bring to yourself since he refused to do so.
“Easy, slow down,” Feyd breathed out and placed his rough hand on your waist. He was caressing you and joined your lips together in a sloppy kiss. His free hand undid the ribbon on the top of your underdress to free your breasts. They shivered under the touch of his big hand as he played with your nipples and buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear.
You shut your eyes close, trying to focus on the pleasure as your fingers rubbed on your sensitive swollen clit but it was not enough. It never was.
“I can’t…” You admitted your defeat as you tried to catch a breath.
“Yes, you can,” Feyd whispered into your ear in that low, raspy voice of his that sent shivers down your body and straight to your core. “What’s stopping you?”
“It’s just… I don’t know…” You didn’t know how to find the right words. “It’s not enough,” you admitted. “It’s not you.”
“Let me, then,” he raised himself to look into your eyes as his hand moved your hand away and his fingers replaced yours on your exposed clit. You gasped at the feeling of his fingertips drawing circles and teasing your entrance. 
You pressed your hands to his chest and then you moved them lower to explore the hard muscles of his abs. To feel them underneath your fingers was enough to make your back arch needily, exposing even more of your hungry pussy. Feyd smirked at that and buried his fingers deep inside as you gasped out of pain but it was quickly replaced with pleasure.
His free hand grabbed your chin gently and when you looked up, batting your eyelashes and opening your lips slightly, he put his fingers inside of your mouth and you grabbed his wrist to hold on to it as you sucked and moaned. His other hand was bringing you close to your release as his movements were fast and rough and his thumb circled your clit.
You cried out but his fingers muffled it so you ended up choking on the sound escaping your lips as you came writhing under him with sweaty forehead and single hair strands sticking to your face, your whole body set on fire, trying to catch a breath. Feyd swallowed thickly as his eyes sparkled.
You yelped as he smacked your sensitive pussy right after pulling his fingers out of it and licking them clean, looking deep into your eyes. You were speechless as your mind was left thoughtless.
You could only watch him lower himself and open your thighs even further with his strong arms as he buried his face between your legs to lap on your juices. You were sensitive so it burned in the beginning but the uncomfortable feeling submerged into pleasure once again. Feyd’s tongue was cleaning your folds thoroughly and penetrating you while you threw your head back as you laid your hands on the back of his neck, keeping him close. But this time he didn’t let you cum so easily.
When you were about to reach the peak again, he moved his head away and the next thing you saw was his face right in front of yours, his chin dripping with your wetness and his cold eyes filled with so much fire that you felt like a prey trapped by a big predator.
But you loved that feeling. You loved to feel small and tiny under him, trapped, vulnerable. You dug your nails into his biceps and looked down. He had already tossed his underwear aside and his cock was hard now, swollen and aching for you, you could see it twitching and leaking black precum. He looked heavy and big and you wanted him badly to claim you and violate you to the point no other man would ever even think of touching you after him.
You had never made him that hard. You had never gone so far before. You were sure you’d succeed now.
“Take me, claim me, make me yours,” you pleaded. “Please, I want more of you.”
Feyd shut you up with a kiss and a strong, stinging pain of his hard cock finally penetrating you. Your eyes widened as you whined. He intertwined your fingers together and held you through the process of adjustment to his size. You were the first one to impatiently rock your hips to show him you wanted him to move. So he did, slowly and carefully. He winced from his attempts to keep himself in control and you let go of his hands to pull him closer by his shoulders and deepen the kiss.
You moaned softly and helped him to fuck you by you rocking your hips against him as your legs wrapped around his waist. You both had been waiting so long for this moment of unity that it didn’t take long for you two to reach your highs and the familiar feeling of warmth filled you whole. You didn’t remember your own name, the only thing you knew was that you were home and the man above you was destined for you; you were born to be his wife and he was born to be your husband. The thousands of years of manipulation of the bloodlines had led you to this moment and nothing could tear you apart now. No amount of rumours, scheming or the disability to show emotions.
You were catching your breath as Feyd was slowly coming back from his high above you, panting heavily and looking at your face with hazy eyes.
“You belong to me,” he leaned in to kiss your lips again. “You always have.”
“No matter what happens, we are one,” you agreed with a nod and intertwined your fingers with him as you held his hand. “Now, when that is settled, we shall focus on our most important task.”
“And that is?”
“Killing the fat spider in his nest,” you answered.
“Thankfully, we have experience,” Feyd teased before placing yet another soft kiss upon your parted lips.
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MASTERLIST
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xetlynn · 1 month ago
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REQUESTED
Arcane Imagines- Vander Headcannons
X Piltover reader Headcannons
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[arcane] [main page]
When you were a young adult you wandered into the undercity after a fight with your ex boyfriend, finding Vander’s bar and going in since you didn’t have anywhere else to go at the time. Vander, Felicia and Silco were alone there. They stared at you at first so you turned around to leave but Vander welcomed you in. 
Felicia and Silco were weary of you at first. Vander seemed to click with you instantly. Even though you were from the uppercity you seemed to have been through a lot yourself. 
After that night you kept going to see Vander. Talking for hours on end. 
It took some time but you got close with Felicia and Silco as well. 
As you got closer with Vander though, feelings grew and you two were inseparable. You guys started dating 6 months after meeting. He wanted to wait since you had just gotten out of something rough before you met him. You understood and just enjoyed his presence in the beginning. 
A couple months later you decided to move to Zaun, it seemed idiotic to your family but it was more of a home than Piltover ever was to you. You lived with your boyfriend behind the Last Drop. 
When Felicia had Vi and Powder you and Vander were watching them whenever Felicia and her husband ever needed it. Creating a close bond with the two girls. 
You and Vander had a small wedding, the girls as your flower girls. Felicia, her husband, and Benzo were there and that was it. Silco didn’t show due to Vander and him getting into heated arguments deciding to go different ways. 
When the couple passed away Vander and you had taken the girls in, along with Claggor and Mylo after they were orphaned as well. 
You and Vander ran the bar together while also being full time parents. It was a lot of work but so worth it to the both of you. Loving those kids with your whole hearts. 
And when they pulled their stunt in the uppercity it devastated you. Especially because they felt like they had to do that to help Vander and you. 
You reprimanded the children as Vander spoke with Vi who was the head of the operation. You explained to them how that is not okay. And not to worry about adult things since Vander and you had it handled. 
When Vi went to turn herself in and Vander locked her up going to turn himself in, you pleaded with him not to. Not wanting to lose anyone in the situation. Begging that there has to be another way. You and him argued and you stayed home with the children. You went to the bathroom for not even five minutes to cry and when you came out the children were after their father figure. 
When you got there you were too late, the place engulfed in flames. Vi was taken by enforcers, locked up. Powder was gone and you found your husband’s body along with your two sons. 
You were devastated. You lost everything. You lost your lover/best friend. Your children. You found out that Benzo was even killed. When you found that you, you took Ekko in. 
It was hard in the beginning. But you built something amazing with Ekko. The Fireflies. 
<3 Time Skip <3
Finding out Powder was with Silco hurt you beyond belief. You couldn’t believe an old friend didn’t even have the decency that your daughter was alive. You hoped she was alive since you never found her body that night. But she’s not even Powder anymore. 
And when Vi came out of prison, Ekko bumped into her. Attacking her, not knowing if she was working for Silco as well. After that he brought her to see you. The both of you share a huge embrace. Both sobbing, clinging onto one another. 
As time passed and Jinx attacked the Piltover Council. Zaun went deeper into a bad state as Piltover got stricter with the people in the undercity. 
Jinx was wanted. People dyed their hair blue in honor of the girl who defied against the Uppercity. She was nowhere to be found though.
The tree sanctuary was running strong but the tree they depend on was getting sick. Ekko and Heimerdinger decided to figure it out with Jayce’s help. 
You went out some time after that and bumped into Vi along with some large guy. Vi’s hair was now black. The large guy, Loris, explained everything that happened. You were shocked that Vi tried to kill her own sister. You helped Loris with taking care of Vi. She was a mess. 
One day you went home from one of her fights with her and Jinx was in her room. You had to calm Vi down so the two of you could hear her out. 
When she said Vander was alive your heart sank into your stomach. You went with the girls, even meeting Isha. Isha loved you, making you carry her in the tunnels. 
When Vi and Jinx fought you just watched, knowing they needed it out of their systems. Isha went to stop Vi, ending up getting hit. You observed how caring Jinx was with the tiny one. 
Moments later though a beast attacked you and Vi. Jinx was pleading for you to not hurt him. He was Vander. 
Your eyes locked with his mid fight before he attacked you and he immediately stopped his movements. “[Name]?” He turned to Vi as well. “Violet.” He spoke. 
The two of you embracing him in a hug. Vi told Jinx to join and then you waved to Isha as well. Savoring every moment. 
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mrsfancyferrari · 2 months ago
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Need Saving
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Summary: You are the first woman to be racing in Formula 1 and you and Max are already best friends. To Jos' dismay.
Song: Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino
Part 2 - Part 3 Author’s note: CW: sexist comments, domestic violence (not from Max). I'm still salty about Daniel Ricciardo's exit to Formula 1 so I decided to add him a little here. THIS WILL BE A SERIES AND THANK YOU FOR THE 500 FOLLOWERS! Please like, reblog and share this! <3 ALSO IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!
Word count: 10.8k
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You are making history as the first woman to compete in Formula 1 with the Red Bull team, stepping in for Sergio Perez.
This groundbreaking achievement not only highlights your talent but also paves the way for future generations of female racers in a sport traditionally dominated by men.
Your personality shines through with a warm and friendly demeanor that makes you incredibly approachable. Colleagues and fans alike find you likable, creating an inviting atmosphere wherever you go.
This charm not only endears you to those around you but also helps foster a supportive environment within the competitive world of racing
Some have affectionately dubbed you the "Mini Honey Badger," a nod to the legendary Daniel Ricciardo. This playful comparison reflects your fierce determination and tenacity on the track, qualities that resonate with fans and fellow racers.
Your unique blend of charisma and competitive spirit is sure to leave a lasting impression in the world of Formula 1.
Luckily, you found yourself paired with one of the most talented drivers in the sport, Max Verstappen.
From the very beginning, you and Max clicked effortlessly, perhaps due to your shared sense of humor or the lighthearted way you both approached life outside of racing.
Max, known for his fierce competitiveness on the track, also had a playful side that drew you in. Whether it was sharing funny anecdotes from your childhood or engaging in friendly banter about each other's driving styles, the connection felt natural and invigorating.
You both understood the pressures of the sport, yet you managed to find joy in the little moments, whether it was a shared laugh over a silly meme or a light-hearted debate about the best racing video games.
This bond not only made your time together enjoyable but also fostered a sense of trust and teamwork that would prove invaluable as the season progressed.
During your initial week in Formula 1, the team was treated to a mix of corny jokes and uproarious laughter, creating an atmosphere that was both fun and relaxed.
It was clear that the camaraderie between you two was something special, and it didn’t take long for everyone to notice. The garage, usually filled with the tension of competition, transformed into a space of joy and lightheartedness.
You and Max would often engage in playful challenges, like who could come up with the worst dad joke or who could impersonate the team’s engineers the best.
These moments not only broke the ice but also helped to build a strong team spirit.
The mechanics and engineers, who often worked long hours under pressure, found themselves smiling more often, and the overall morale of the team improved.
It was as if your infectious energy had a ripple effect, reminding everyone that while racing was serious business, it was also about passion, fun, and the love of the sport.
Christian Horner, the team principal, seemed to recognize this chemistry right away.
He confidently remarked to the media about the dynamic of having a girl and a boy on the same team, suggesting that he had a good feeling about the partnership.
His words resonated with the fans and the media alike, sparking conversations about the evolving landscape of motorsport and the importance of diversity within the sport. It was evident that the two of you were destined to make waves together on and off the track.
Christian’s faith in your partnership only fueled your determination to succeed.
You both knew that the expectations were high, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you embraced the challenge.
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"Joseph, can you give me an update on the gap behind?" you inquired, your voice steady as it crackled through the radio to your race engineer.
The sound of your own heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of the high stakes at play.
"You're looking at a 5-second lead over Norris, Y/N," Joseph Duke responded, his tone calm and focused.
As you navigated the track, the adrenaline surged through your veins, heightening your senses.
The smell of burning rubber and the roar of engines filled the air, but your focus remained solely on the asphalt ahead.
Max was currently leading the race, and you were right on his tail, just a heartbeat away from making a decisive move.
With the world championship points on the line, every second counted, and the team’s strategy was crucial.
"Copy that, Joseph. I’m feeling good about this pace. Should I push to overtake Max?" you asked, weighing your options.
The tension in the air was palpable, and you could almost hear the roar of the crowd in your mind, their cheers and gasps fueling your determination.
You could picture the fans waving flags, the excitement building as the race unfolded.
"Remember, he’s leading the championship, so those points are vital for him," Joseph reminded you, his voice steady and measured.
You took a deep breath, considering the risks and rewards of your next move. The thought of overtaking Max was tantalizing, but the consequences of a miscalculation loomed large.
"Understood. But if I don’t make a move soon, he might pull away," you replied, your mind racing through the possibilities.
You could see the track ahead, the curves and straightaways that could either make or break your race.
"Just keep your head in the game, Y/N. Focus on your lines and stay patient. The opportunity will come," Joseph advised, his experience guiding you through the chaos.
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, reminding yourself that patience was key.
As you approached the next turn, you felt the car respond to your every command, the tires gripping the asphalt with precision.
You could see Max’s car just ahead, a flash of blue and white, and the urge to push harder surged within you.
"Alright, I’ll hold back for now, but I’m ready when the moment strikes," you said, determination lacing your words.
The opportunity to seize the grand prix had slipped through your fingers, leaving you with a bittersweet taste of second place as Max celebrated his victory.
It wasn’t that you felt anger towards him; after all, the stakes were high, and the competition was fierce.
You had performed admirably, even outshining Checo this season, and Red Bull was finally back to their P1-P2 glory.
As you stepped out of your car, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you spotted Max waiting for you, his helmet off and a look of concern etched on his face.
He rushed over, his expression serious as he enveloped you in a quick hug. “You don’t hate me, do you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected question. Removing your helmet, you met his gaze with a warm smile. “Of course not! But don’t think I’ll go easy on you next week,” you replied playfully, your competitive spirit igniting once more.
Max’s face lit up with a genuine smile, the tension dissipating. “Mate, I won’t go down that easy!” he shot back, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of rivalry.
As you made your way to celebrate with the team, you noticed the difference in how they treated you compared to Max. While he was hoisted into the air, receiving enthusiastic cheers and bone-crushing hugs, you felt a more cautious approach directed your way.
It was a subtle reminder of the gender dynamics at play in the sport. You brushed it off, focusing instead on the camaraderie and the shared passion that brought you all together.
The post-race atmosphere was electric, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional shout of joy.
You joined in the celebrations, clapping your hands and cheering for your teammates, but a part of you remained introspective.
You replayed the race in your mind, analyzing every corner, every overtaking maneuver, and every missed opportunity.
The thrill of competition was intoxicating, but so was the desire to prove yourself, not just to the team but to the world.
As the evening unfolded, you found yourself lingering at the periphery of the lively celebration, your gaze fixed on Max as he reveled in the spotlight of his victory.
He was the star of the night, the one everyone clamored to congratulate, while you stood in the shadows, merely the second driver.
Christian approached, giving your shoulder a friendly pat, a gesture of appreciation for your support. Yet, it felt insufficient.
You masked your feelings with a bright smile as you watched Max raise his glass, laughter spilling from his lips as the clock inched toward midnight.
“Goodnight, Max,” you called out, aware that your boyfriend, Jake would be less than pleased if you lingered too long.
“Goodnight, best friend! Did I mention you look lovely tonight?” Max replied, his words slightly slurred as he pulled you into a warm embrace.
You felt your cheeks heat up. “No, you didn’t! Thank you, Max. You look great too!” you managed to say, your heart fluttering at the compliment.
As the night wore on, you exchanged goodbyes with the others, the atmosphere buzzing with joy and celebration.
You decided it was time to head home, opting for a taxi since you had indulged in a few drinks earlier.
Once inside the cab, you leaned back against the seat, reflecting on the evening. The laughter, the cheers, and the way Max had shone like a beacon of success.
It was hard not to feel a twinge of envy, but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself of the bond you shared.
The driver navigated through the city streets, and you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the photos from the night.
There was Max, grinning ear to ear, surrounded by friends, and there you were, a supportive figure in the background.
Just as the car turned, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you glanced down to see a message from Jake.
“Where are you?” he texted, the words appearing on your screen like a gentle reminder of the warmth waiting for you at home.
You smiled, feeling a rush of affection as you typed back, “Just left the party! On my way home now. Can’t wait to see you!”
The taxi weaved through the city streets, and you could almost picture him waiting for you, perhaps pacing a little, his brow furrowed in that adorable way he did when he was worried.
You could hear his voice in your head, teasing you about how you always took too long to say goodbye, but you knew he loved it just as much as you did.
As the taxi pulled up to your building, you felt a flutter of excitement. You paid the driver and hurried inside, your heart racing with anticipation.
As you stepped into the apartment, a heavy scent of alcohol hit you like a wave, and your heart sank.
The cheerful anticipation you had felt moments before evaporated, replaced by a knot of anxiety in your stomach. You knew Jake had been struggling lately, and the telltale signs of his mood were all around you.
Empty bottles cluttered the coffee table, their labels peeling and faded, remnants of nights spent drowning sorrows that seemed to multiply with each passing day.
Taking a deep breath, you cautiously made your way further inside, hoping to find a glimmer of the warmth you once cherished, a flicker of the love that had once filled this space.
“Hey, babe, I’m home!” you called out, trying to inject some cheer into the atmosphere, but your voice felt small and fragile against the oppressive silence that enveloped the room.
The silence that followed was deafening, and you could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.
Just then, he emerged from the shadows of the living room, his eyes glassy and unfocused, as if he were peering through a fog that had settled deep within him.
“Oh, look who decided to show up,” he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, each word laced with bitterness. “Did you have fun pretending to be normal out there?”
You felt a chill run down your spine as he continued, hurling insults that cut deeper than you wanted to admit.
It was as if he was trying to push you away, to create a chasm between you that felt insurmountable.
And yet, amidst the hurt, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man you loved, the one who was lost beneath layers of pain and anger.
“Why do you always have to do this?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, the vulnerability in your tone betraying the strength you wished to project. “I just want to help you.”
He scoffed, dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand, the gesture almost theatrical in its disdain. “Help? You mean control. You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything? You’re just like everyone else, trying to tell me what to do.”
The words stung, and you felt the weight of his accusations pressing down on you, each syllable a reminder of the distance that had grown between you.
“I’m not trying to control you,” you replied softly, “I just want to be there for you. Can’t we talk about this?”
But as you looked into his eyes, you realized that the man you once knew was slipping further away, lost in a haze of his own making.
His gaze, once so full of life and passion, now seemed clouded, distant. It was as if he was peering through a murky window, unable or unwilling to see the vibrant world outside.
You could see the shadows of his struggles etched on his face, the lines of worry and anger deepening with each passing day. It pained you to witness this transformation, to see the light in him dimmed by his own fears and insecurities.
“Why can’t you see that I’m trying to help?” you pressed, your heart racing as desperation crept into your voice. “I’m not your enemy. I want to understand what you’re going through.”
You took a tentative step closer, hoping to bridge the gap that felt insurmountable.
But he recoiled slightly, as if your words were a physical blow, and the distance between you felt more pronounced than ever.
“Understand?” he scoffed, his tone laced with bitterness. “You think you can just waltz in and understand? You have no idea what it’s like to feel trapped, to have every choice taken from you. You don’t know the weight of this burden.”
His voice cracked, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the bravado.
As soon as you opened your mouth to speak, Jake brushed by you, grabbing his coat and shoes in one swift motion.
"I'm heading out for a walk. Don't even think about following me," he snapped, his words laced with the sting of alcohol.
You simply nodded, feeling a mix of concern and frustration, but you stayed rooted in place until you heard the door slam shut behind him.
With the sound echoing in the silence, you finally exhaled, the tension in your chest easing just a bit. You glanced around the room, the remnants of the night scattered everywhere—empty bottles and crumpled napkins littered the floor.
"Guess it's cleanup time," you muttered to yourself, bending down to gather the bottles. As you worked, your mind raced with thoughts of him.
Just then, your phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from your best friend, Sarah.
"Hey! How's everything? You okay?"
You sighed, typing back quickly. "Not great. He just stormed out after a fight. I’m cleaning up the mess now."
A moment later, your phone chimed again. "Want me to come over? I can help."
You hesitated, glancing at the door. "No, it’s fine. I just need to sort things out."
"Are you sure? You shouldn’t be alone right now."
You paused, considering her words. "I’ll be okay. I just need to think."
As you continued to tidy up, you replayed the argument in your mind. It had started over something trivial, but the alcohol had turned it into a full-blown fight.
You could hear his voice in your head, the way he had raised his tone, the way he had dismissed your feelings.
"Why does he always do this?" you whispered to yourself, frustration bubbling up again.
You were well aware that he wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.
After tidying up the house, you decided to treat yourself to a long, relaxing bath.
The warm water enveloped you, washing away the day’s worries. Once you felt refreshed, you slipped into your favorite pajamas and crawled into bed, the soft sheets providing a comforting embrace.
He hadn’t always been this way—filled with anger and lost in the depths of alcoholism.
You both had shared a beautiful love story, starting as high school sweethearts. You could still remember the way he used to look at you, his eyes sparkling with affection, mirroring the love you felt for him.
As you lay there, memories flooded your mind. You recalled the laughter, the late-night talks, and the dreams you had built together. But now, those dreams felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the weight of his struggles.
Maybe it was the pressure of work that was taking a toll on him. You thought back to the last time you had a heart-to-heart.
“Do you remember when we used to talk about our future?” you had asked him one evening, the two of you sitting on the porch, the sun setting in a blaze of colors.
He had sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I remember. It feels like a lifetime ago.”
“Things can get better, you know. We can work through this together,” you had urged, your heart aching for the man you once knew.
He had looked away, his expression clouded. “I don’t know if I can. Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to swim anymore.”
You had reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, always.”
But as the days turned into weeks, the distance between you grew. The man you loved was slipping away, replaced by someone you barely recognized.
Now, lying in bed, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find his way back to you. Would he remember the love you once shared? Would he fight against the demons that haunted him?
With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes, hoping that tomorrow would bring a glimmer of hope, a sign that the man you loved was still inside, waiting to break free.
As you settled into bed, the glow of your phone screen illuminated the dark room, revealing a flurry of notifications that had accumulated while you were winding down.
Most of them were filled with excitement, congratulating you on your impressive second-place finish in the race. However, amidst the sea of cheerful messages, one stood out—a private note from Max.
While some comments stung with negativity, suggesting you didn’t belong in the world of Formula 1, Max’s message was a beacon of warmth.
“Thanks for coming to celebrate with me 👍,” it read, and a smile crept across your face, momentarily pushing away the weight of the harsh words.
You felt a mix of emotions swirling within you, and for a moment, tears threatened to spill over. But instead of succumbing to the sadness, you decided to respond to Max.
Your fingers danced over the screen as you typed, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, you deserved it! 😁” The moment you hit send, a sense of relief washed over you.
It was a reminder that amidst the criticism, there were still those who appreciated your presence and celebrated your achievements.
You could almost hear Max’s laughter echoing in your mind, a sound that always seemed to lift your spirits.
Just as you were about to put your phone down, a new message popped up from Max. “You really made the night special! I’m glad you were there. Let’s catch up soon?”
His words filled you with warmth, and you could picture him grinning with alcohol still in his system, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
“Absolutely! I’d love to,” you replied, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.
After setting your phone aside for the night, you drifted off to sleep, the soft hum of the world outside fading into a distant memory.
When you awoke, you were enveloped in a warm embrace, the kind that felt like home. Instantly, you recognized the familiar presence of Jake, his body radiating warmth against yours.
The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, a reminder of his previous night out with friends, a detail that both amused and concerned you.
A smile crept across your face as you turned to see him, his features relaxed and serene, a stark contrast to the tension that had marked his demeanor the night before.
Curiosity sparked within you, igniting a flurry of questions as you pondered where he had spent his time, what stories he might have to share, and whether the night had been as wild as you imagined.
You felt a rush of affection for him, a desire to know every detail of his adventures, to understand the man who had captured your heart so completely.
Despite the warnings from your friends urging you to reconsider your relationship, your feelings for him remained steadfast, unwavering like a lighthouse in a storm.
They claimed he was a source of trouble, a tempest that could jeopardize your career and stir up scandals that would ripple through your life.
Yet, deep down, you understood him better than they did, seeing the layers of his character that they overlooked. You believed in his integrity, in the goodness that lay beneath the surface, and you knew he wouldn’t intentionally cause chaos in your life.
Their concerns echoed in your mind, but they felt distant, like the sound of waves crashing against a far-off shore.
You were determined to forge your own path, to trust your instincts, and to embrace the love that had blossomed between you, even if it meant standing alone against the tide of skepticism.
Although your relationship was already in the public eye, with whispers and speculation swirling around you like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind, he had yet to join you in the paddock due to his work commitments.
You felt a mix of anticipation and longing, a bittersweet ache in your chest as you navigated the bustling environment without him by your side.
As you glanced at your phone, the screen illuminated the early morning hour, signaling it was time for your daily jog.
You carefully extricated yourself from Jake's embrace, trying not to disturb his peaceful slumber.
Just as you were about to tiptoe out of the room, you caught a faint mumble escaping his lips, a mix of sleep and concern. “Where are you going?” he murmured, his voice thick with drowsiness.
You paused for a moment, torn between the urge to reassure him and the need to stick to your routine.
“I’m just going for a quick run, love. I’ll be back before you know it,” you replied softly, hoping to ease any lingering worries. His brow furrowed slightly, even in his sleep, as if he sensed your departure was more than just a morning ritual.
“You always run too early… what if someone sees you?” he muttered, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, even in his dreams.
With a gentle smile, you leaned down to plant a quick kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be fine, I promise. It’s just me and the open road. You know I love my morning jogs.”
You could feel the tension in the air, a familiar weight that often accompanied your outings. “Okay,” he finally said, though the uncertainty lingered in his tone.
You quickly changed into your jogging attire before stepping out of the house. With a sense of urgency, you slipped into your comfortable workout gear, ready to embrace the fresh air outside.
The fabric of your favorite moisture-wicking shirt clung to your skin, and the soft elastic of your running shorts felt familiar and reassuring.
You laced up your well-worn sneakers, the soles still resilient from countless miles, and took a moment to stretch your legs, feeling the anticipation build within you.
Once dressed, you felt the excitement of the run ahead, eager to hit the pavement and enjoy the rhythm of your feet against the ground.
The world outside beckoned, vibrant and alive, as you opened the door and stepped into the crisp morning air. The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers filled your lungs, invigorating your spirit.
You took a deep breath, letting the coolness wash over you, and with a quick glance at the sky, you noted the sun just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue across the horizon.
As you began to jog, the familiar cadence of your heartbeat matched the steady thump of your feet on the pavement. Each stride felt liberating, a release from the confines of the day-to-day.
You could feel the tension of the week melting away with every step, replaced by a sense of freedom and clarity.
The rhythmic sound of your breath mingled with the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, creating a symphony of nature that accompanied you on your journey.
As you were enjoying your morning jog through the park, the rhythmic sound of your feet hitting the pavement was suddenly interrupted by a group of enthusiastic voices.
A cluster of women and girls approached you, their faces lighting up with excitement. "Excuse me! Miss Y/N! Can we get your autograph?" one of them exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with admiration.
You paused, a bit surprised but also flattered, and smiled at the eager crowd. "Of course! I’d be happy to," you replied, pulling out a small notepad from your pocket.
Amid the chatter, a young girl stepped forward, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I want to start go-karting because I want to be just like you!" she declared, her voice filled with determination.
You could see the passion in her eyes, and it warmed your heart. "That’s amazing! Go-karting is such a fun sport," you encouraged her. "What do you love most about it?"
The girl beamed, her confidence growing as she shared her dreams of racing and the thrill of speed. "I love the idea of being in control and going fast! It looks so cool!"
You nodded, feeling a sense of responsibility to inspire her. "You know, every champion starts somewhere. If you really want to do it, just keep practicing and never give up. Surround yourself with people who support you, and you’ll go far," you advised, hoping to instill a sense of belief in her.
The girl’s eyes widened, and she nodded vigorously. "I will! Thank you so much!"
As the group dispersed, you felt a renewed sense of purpose, realizing that your journey could inspire others to chase their dreams, just as you had. . . .
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As the days rolled on, the team decided to spice things up a bit before race week by organizing a fun game called "How Well Do You Know Each Other."
The idea was to not only entertain the fans but also to give everyone a glimpse into the camaraderie between you and Max.
You found yourself standing in front of the camera, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling inside you, while Max lounged comfortably on the sofa behind you, his headphones snugly in place, unable to listen in.
The staff kicked off the game with a playful tone, "Alright, let’s start with you! The first question about Max is… what is Max's favorite food?" You grinned, confident in your knowledge of your teammate.
"Oh, I know this one! Max is a huge fan of both Italian and Dutch cuisine, while I personally lean more towards Spanish dishes," you replied, your voice filled with enthusiasm.
The crew chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter, and you could see Max nodding in agreement, a smirk on his face even though he didn't know what you said.
After a few more questions, it was time for the roles to reverse. You took a seat on the sofa, and Max stood in front of the camera, a playful glint in his eyes.
The staff asked him the same question, and he leaned forward, a teasing smile forming. "Well, I know my teammate pretty well! She loves her Spanish food, but I think she secretly wishes she could cook like an Italian chef," he joked.
"You better be getting this right, I wanna beat Charles and Carlos' record," you said, feeling the competitive in you to beat Ferrari's record of 18 out of 20 right.
Max only turned around and gave an okay sign since you couldn't hear him, adding a little small wink for the tease but it was caught on camera.
In the end, both you and Max aced all the questions, and the excitement bubbled over as you jumped up and down, your energy infectious. Max stood nearby, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched your enthusiasm.
"See, everyone! Red Bull is clearly the superior team compared to Ferrari, so make sure to support us this week!" you exclaimed, wrapping up the video with a flourish.
As you turned to Max, you noticed he was still gazing at you, lost in thought. It took you by surprise.
"Max, do you want to add anything to what I just said?" you asked, a playful grin on your face as you nudged his shoulder gently.
Snapping back to reality, Max turned to the camera, a hint of sheepishness in his expression.
"Oh, umm, yeah… Red Bull domination, I guess?" he replied, his voice a mix of uncertainty and enthusiasm.
You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his response, and Max's smile widened, clearly pleased that he could make you laugh.
"Alright, everyone, that's a wrap! We'll catch you all soon. Fingers crossed for another P1-P2 finish, but maybe next time we can switch things up a bit," you said, waving enthusiastically at the camera.
As the camera clicked off, you turned to the crew with a warm smile, expressing your gratitude for their support. You shifted your focus to Max, who was standing nearby, a mix of anticipation and amusement on his face.
"Hey, Max," you began, a playful glint in your eye. "How does it feel to be the most compatible drivers on the grid?"
Max's eyes widened slightly at the phrase "most compatible," and you could see a hint of color rising to his cheeks. But as soon as he processed the word "driver," his expression shifted to one of mild disappointment.
"It feels nice, I guess," he replied, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "Just another thing to brag about to Lando, right?"
You chuckled, knowing how much Max loved to tease his fellow drivers. "Oh, absolutely! I can already picture it—Lando rolling his eyes while you go on about how you and I are the ultimate duo."
Max laughed, shaking his head. "He'll probably come up with some ridiculous comeback, like how he’s the best driver in the world or something."
"Well, he does have a knack for that," you said, leaning against the wall, enjoying the banter. "But let’s be honest, you two are like an old married couple. Always bickering but secretly caring for each other."
Max rolled his eyes dramatically. "Please, I’m not ready for that kind of commitment. I can barely handle my own sleeping schedule!"
Max shrugged, a hint of humility creeping into his demeanor. "But honestly, having you around makes it easier. You bring a different energy to the team."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thanks, Max. That means a lot coming from you. I think we balance each other out pretty well."
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it’s like we have this unspoken understanding. You know when to push me and when to let me breathe. It’s refreshing."
"Exactly! And it’s not just about racing; it’s about the camaraderie we build off the track too. Those late-night strategy sessions and the random moments of laughter—they all add up."
Max chuckled, recalling a particularly ridiculous moment from a previous race weekend. "Remember that time we got lost trying to find the catering tent? We ended up in that random fan zone instead!"
You burst out laughing, the memory flooding back. "Oh my god, yes! And those fans were so excited to see us, they thought we were there for a meet-and-greet! We ended up taking selfies with them for an hour."
"Right? And then we finally found the catering tent, only to discover they were out of your favorite pasta!" Max added, shaking his head in disbelief.
"That was a tragedy," you said, feigning a dramatic sigh. "But it turned into one of the best days. I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything."
Max’s gaze softened as he looked at you, a genuine smile breaking through. "Me neither. It’s those little things that make all the hard work worth it."
You both stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the camaraderie between you palpable. The atmosphere around the paddock buzzed with activity, but in that moment, it felt like you were in your own little world.
"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff," Max said, breaking the moment with a playful nudge. "Let’s get back to business. We’ve got a race to prepare for, and I can’t let you steal all my glory."
You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh, please! You know I’m just here to make you look good. Besides, I wouldn’t dream of overshadowing the reigning champion."
What you two didn't know was that the cameras didn't stop but recorded your little moment, which went viral in the few minutes that it was posted. . . . .
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You knew that the public would start shipping you and Max together sooner or later but you weren't bothered with it.
You had a boyfriend who you cared for deeply, someone who had been your rock through the ups and downs of your racing career. Yet, his reaction to the swirling rumors about you and Max took you by surprise.
You never imagined he would be so affected by the gossip that seemed to spread like wildfire through the paddock and beyond.
Here you were, caught in a web of emotions, torn between the thrill of a new chapter and the loyalty you felt towards your current relationship.
As you stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your shared space enveloped you, but it did little to ease the tension that hung in the air.
You found Jake lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to his phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his furrowed brow. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, and you could sense that something was off.
“Hey, babe,” you greeted him, trying to sound cheerful despite the weight on your shoulders. He barely looked up, his fingers scrolling furiously, as if searching for answers in the digital chaos.
“Did you hear about you and Max?” he finally snapped, his voice laced with irritation, cutting through the silence like a knife. “It’s all over social media. Are you really going to let this get to you?”
You felt your heart sink; you had hoped for a different reaction, one that would reassure you that your relationship was strong enough to withstand the storm of rumors.
“Come on, it’s just rumors,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tremor in it betrayed your inner turmoil. “You know I’m committed to only you.”
You watched as he shot you a skeptical glance, his jealousy bubbling to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. “Yeah, but how can I trust you when you’re out there with him all the time? It’s not just a coincidence that everyone is talking about it.”
The words stung, and you took a deep breath. "Babe I love only you-"
"Please, don’t even think about it! You know I’m stuck here because if I walked away, your fans would make my life a living nightmare," Jake exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you reeling from the harsh reality of your situation.
It was as if he had taken a knife and twisted it, exposing the raw vulnerability you had tried so hard to hide.
You could feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. "I didn’t ask for any of this," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.
The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you could sense the tension between you growing thicker by the second. It was a battle of emotions, and you were losing ground.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know it’s not fair, but you have to understand the pressure I’m under. It’s not just about us; it’s about my career, my fans. I can’t let them down."
His eyes softened for a moment, revealing a glimpse of the man you fell in love with.
"But I don’t want to lose you. Can’t we find a way to make this work?" You pleaded.
"I don't know," he muttered, not lifting his eyes from his phone before standing up and walking past you to get his coat and shoes. "i'm gonna take a walk,"
This has been a pattern for weeks now. You would come home, he would start an argument then make up an excuse to leave the house, leaving you to either pick up his mess or go to sleep without your partner. To only wake up with him cuddling you in the morning and apologise for his action last night.
You were getting sick of it but you still love him too much to break up with him. . . .
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The days that followed were a blur of introspection and emotional turmoil. Each time you caught a glimpse of Jake’s name on your phone, a knot formed in your stomach.
You had always been the type to see the good in people, to believe that love could conquer all, but the reality of your situation was becoming harder to ignore.
The moments of tenderness were overshadowed by the growing unease that settled in your chest like a heavy stone.
You spent more time with Sarah, who seemed to sense your internal struggle. She filled your days with laughter and distraction, taking you out for coffee, long walks in the park, and movie marathons that kept your mind off the impending decision.
Yet, no matter how much you tried to push it aside, the thought of Jake lingered like a shadow, reminding you of the grip he had on your heart—and not in a way that felt safe or loving.
One evening, as you and Sarah sat on the balcony watching the sunset, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, she turned to you again.
"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but you have to prioritize your happiness. You can’t keep living in this limbo," she said, her voice steady and unwavering.
You looked out at the horizon, the beauty of the moment contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside you.
"I know," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "But what if I’m wrong? What if he really can change?"
The fear of making the wrong choice loomed large, a specter that haunted your thoughts.
"Change is possible, but it has to come from him, not from you hoping for it," Sarah said gently. "You can’t be the one to fix him. You’re not responsible for his happiness or his growth. You deserve to be with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe."
Her words struck a chord deep within you. You thought back to the last time he had gripped your arm, the way his eyes had darkened, and how you had brushed it off as a moment of frustration.
But now, in the light of day, you could see it for what it was—a warning sign that you had been too afraid to acknowledge.
That night, as you lay in bed, the silence of your room felt deafening. You replayed every moment of your relationship, the good and the bad, and slowly, the scales began to tip.
The holiday seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, and soon you found yourself stepping into the paddock alongside Sarah and Jake.
As you walked, you could feel the tension in the air; Jake wore a strained smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, gripping your hand a little too tightly.
“Hey, look at all the fans!” you exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood as you waved enthusiastically at the crowd, signing autographs for those who called out your name.
Sarah, taking a break from her hectic job, had decided to join you, her laughter ringing out like music amidst the bustling atmosphere.
“Isn’t this amazing?” you said, glancing at Sarah, who was snapping pictures with her phone. “I can’t believe how many people came out today!”
She nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s like a mini-celebration! But where’s your boyfriend? He seems a bit off today.”
You shrugged, trying to brush off the concern. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just tired. We haven’t really talked much since we got back.”
You stole a glance at him, who was still smiling, but it felt forced, like he was putting on a show for everyone around.
You made the decision to invite Jake into your driver’s room for a heart-to-heart conversation. As you settled into the familiar space, you turned to him with a gentle concern.
“Hey, are you doing okay?” you asked, your voice soft and inviting.
Jake looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and longing, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m alright, really. I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately,” he replied, his tone sincere.
In that moment, you felt a rush of warmth; you had missed the comfort of his touch more than you realized.
“Jake, I need to let you know that I have to leave soon,” you murmured, trying to keep the conversation grounded. But he seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze intense and filled with desire.
“Why don’t you just quit your job already? I can take care of you, I promise,” he suggested, his voice dripping with temptation.
The idea hung in the air between you, and for a fleeting moment, you felt the pull of his offer.
It was tempting, but the passion you had for Formula 1 was a flame that burned too brightly to extinguish for anyone, even someone as captivating as Jake.
You took a deep breath, weighing your options. “Jake, you know how much this means to me. Formula 1 isn’t just a job; it’s my dream,” you replied, your heart heavy with the conflict.
He stepped back slightly, his expression shifting from desire to disappointment. “I get it, but can’t you see how much I care about you? I want us to be together, and I thought you felt the same way,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.
You could see the struggle in his eyes, and it pained you to know that your passion for racing was creating a rift between you.
“I do care about you, but I can’t just walk away from everything I’ve worked for,” you insisted, hoping he would understand.
As you stand there, the tension weighs heavily in the air, palpable and thick, as Jake's frustration spills over, his voice tinged with a mix of hurt and desperation.
"But what about me?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for an answer that you know is difficult to provide. "Since you started this job, we haven’t done anything together. All you've been doing is hanging out with that Max boy. Don’t you see it?"
His words cut through the silence, piercing the surface of your mind and forcing you to confront the tangled web of your life that feels all too overwhelming at this moment.
As you gather your thoughts, aware that the job has transformed your priorities and the once-familiar relationship with Jake has shifted, you attempt to articulate your feelings, to bridge the widening chasm of misunderstanding.
"Jake—" you start, your voice tremulous, hoping to weave a delicate thread of connection that can pull you both back to a place of understanding, but he interjects, the intensity of his emotions propelling him forward before you can offer your perspective.
"I’ll show you—don't worry," he mutters, the frustration lacing his tone beginning to dissipate as he suddenly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a gesture that is both protective and possessive.
The warmth of his body against yours sends a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the bond you once cherished.
Feeling the urgency of the moment, his lips find yours, a kiss that ignites a flicker of hope amid the turmoil of doubt and fear swirling around you. . . .
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After the holiday break, you had started to act differently, almost as if a shadow had fallen over their usual camaraderie.
Whenever he approached to nudge her shoulder playfully, she would flinch, a look of surprise crossing her face as if she were bracing for something unpleasant.
It was a stark contrast to the easygoing banter they once shared, and he couldn't help but notice how she had become more withdrawn, often lost in her thoughts, her laughter replaced by a distant gaze.
He believed you were feeling down because the team was struggling to achieve the results they had hoped for.
Typically, his father would reach out to him after a disappointing race, sometimes even resorting to physical punishment if the outcome was particularly disheartening.
It was a routine he had come to accept, thinking it was a common experience shared by many.
However, everything changed when his therapist pointed out that not everyone endured such treatment, which sparked a rebellion within him against his father's harsh ways.
"Why do you always have to be so hard on me?" he had shouted one evening, frustration boiling over.
His father, taken aback, responded with a stern look, "Because I want you to be the best, Max. You need to learn that life isn’t always fair."
But Max felt differently; he wanted to be supported, not punished.
As he pondered your situation, he couldn't help but wonder if you had faced similar challenges.
"Do you have someone in your life who treats you badly?" he asked cautiously, trying to gauge your response.
Your eyes widened at the sudden question before you shook your head, a small smile breaking through the clouds of doubt.
"No, not like that. Everyone is really supportive of me these days."
Max felt a wave of relief wash over him, grateful that you had not been in that cycle of abuse he had been so familiar with.
In many of the recent races, both you and Max found yourselves finishing in the P2 to P4 range, or sometimes not making it to the podium at all, which left the team feeling quite disheartened.
The once-promising season had turned into a series of missed opportunities, and the weight of expectations began to take its toll on everyone involved.
The atmosphere in the garage was thick with tension, and the engineers were working overtime to analyze data and strategize for the next race, but the results were still falling short of what the team had hoped for.
This situation also prompted Max's father, Jos, to plan a visit during the race weekend. He intended to check in on his son and perhaps give him a much-needed reality check, quite literally.
As the race day approached, Jos observed his son engaging in cheerful conversation with you, rather than focusing on the engineers to gather crucial insights, a routine Max typically adhered to before a race.
This deviation from his usual pre-race preparation did not sit well with Jos.
He had always believed that the hours leading up to a race were critical for mental conditioning and strategy formulation. To see Max laughing and joking instead of poring over telemetry data or discussing race strategies with the engineers was concerning for him.
Jos's frustration grew as he watched the interaction unfold. He believed that your presence was a distraction, pulling Max away from the intense focus required for peak performance.
In his eyes, the bond you shared with his son was undermining Max's potential to excel on the track.
He felt that friendships weren't important and they should not come at the expense of Max's dedication to his craft.
Jos was determined to address this issue head-on, convinced that a serious conversation was necessary to realign Max's priorities. . . . .
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In the midst of a lively discussion filled with laughter and camaraderie, Jos abruptly interjected, "Max, I need to talk to you right now."
His tone cut through the jovial atmosphere, drawing the attention of both you and his son. The laughter faded, replaced by a sudden stillness as everyone turned to witness the unfolding scene.
Max's expression shifted from joy to disappointment as he glanced at you, yet he managed to offer a reassuring smile before reluctantly following his father away from the group.
"Yes, Father?" Max responded in Dutch, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. The way he spoke suggested a mix of respect and wariness, as if he were bracing himself for a conversation he knew would be anything but easy.
Jos wasted no time in launching into his concerns, his words spilling out with a sense of urgency.
"You must distance yourself from that girl; she is a distraction that will hinder your performance in the race," he asserted, his tone firm and authoritative, as if he were delivering a decree rather than a request.
The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, a stark contrast to the lightheartedness that had just moments ago enveloped the gathering.
Max, however, was quick to defend you, his loyalty evident in the way he stood a little taller, his brow furrowing in determination. "No, she doesn't distract me, Father. She's my teammate," he stated, his voice steady and resolute.
The conviction in his tone reflected a bond that transcended mere friendship; it was a partnership built on shared goals and mutual respect.
Yet, as he spoke, the tension between father and son thickened, a palpable clash of wills that seemed to reverberate through the quiet space around them.
Jos, sensing the resistance in Max's voice, shifted his approach, employing subtle manipulation to sway his son’s perspective.
"Think about your future, Max. You have so much potential, and I only want what is best for you," he continued, his voice softening slightly, as if trying to appeal to Max's aspirations.
The words were carefully chosen, designed to instill doubt about your influence, to paint you as an obstacle rather than an ally.
Max hesitated, caught between his father's expectations and his own feelings.
The internal struggle was evident on his face, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he grappled with the conflicting loyalties that tugged at his heart.
"It is evident in your results over the weeks, you've been falling off the high scores recently, hardly been able to reach third place because of that girl!" Jos stressed out and Max became quiet, letting those words sink in.
"Max, think about it," Jos continued, his tone shifting to one of persuasion. "You need to focus on your game and not let distractions get in the way. She's not worth it."
Max felt a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He had always admired his father's wisdom, but now he sensed a subtle manipulation at play. Jos was trying to steer him away from his feelings, and deep down, Max knew it.
Yet, the idea of disappointing his father loomed larger than his own desires.
"Okay, Father," Max finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
He felt a pang of regret as he agreed, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing a part of himself in the process. As he walked away, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.
Was it worth sacrificing his happiness for the sake of competition?
As he walked away, the sound of his father's footsteps fading behind him, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.
The internal struggle was just beginning, and Max knew he had to find a way to balance his passion for the game with the complexities of his heart.
He thought of you—the woman who had sparked something within him, a light that had ignited a warmth he hadn't been able to feel like Daniel left.
After he began to distance himself from you, he noticed a change in your demeanor.
You seemed more withdrawn, putting on a facade of happiness with a constant smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were hiding behind long-sleeved coats, even in the warm weather, creating a barrier between yourself and the world around you.
The vibrant laughter that once filled the air when you were together had been replaced by a silence that hung heavily between you, punctuated only by the occasional forced chuckle or polite nod.
Max could see the way your shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of unspoken words and unshared feelings was pressing down on you.
Your eyes, once bright with enthusiasm and mischief, now seemed clouded, reflecting a deep-seated sadness that you tried so hard to conceal.
He remembered the long pointless conversations, the dreams you both had shared, and the plans that now felt like distant memories. It pained him to witness your struggle, yet he felt powerless to bridge the growing chasm between you.
Despite the guilt that gnawed at him, Max couldn’t help but recognize a shift in his own performance on the racetrack.
He found himself consistently finishing on the podium, a stark contrast to your struggles as you remained trapped within the top ten.
Each trophy he lifted felt heavier than the last, a reminder of the friendship that had once fueled his passion for racing.
He could hear the cheers of the crowd, feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but all he could think about was how you used to be there, celebrating alongside him, your face alight with pride and joy.
While he celebrated his achievements, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something important was missing.
The camaraderie they once shared seemed to slip further away with each passing race, leaving him to wonder if the price of success was worth the cost of their connection.
He often found himself glancing over at the empty spot in the pit where you used to stand, your eyes sparkling with encouragement, your voice ringing out with advice that had always kept him grounded.
As the races continued, Max felt a growing urgency to reach out, to break through the walls you had built around yourself.
But his father kept him grounded and not letting that thought come to life anytime soon. . . .
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As you maneuver through the winding turns of the racetrack, adrenaline surges through your veins, a heady blend of focus and exhilaration.
"Joseph, what's the gap to Max?" you inquire, your voice steady despite the chaos enveloping you as you glance at the rearview mirror, noticing Charles's fierce pursuit as he falls into your peripheral vision, momentarily eclipsed by your recent strategic overtaking maneuver.
"2.3 seconds in front of you, Y/N," Joseph replies, his tone equally crisp yet slightly strained, hinting at the intensity of the moment.
The hum of the engine, the vibrations of the car, and the distant roar of the crowd blend into a symphony of speed, and as you negotiate the track, your mind sharpens with determination.
You consider your next move with meticulous care, knowing that a split-second decision could alter the course of the race.
Holding tightly to the steering wheel, you then ask, “Do I have permission to take over?”
Pause hangs in the air like a fragile breath, and you can almost anticipate Joseph's reply, especially given the longstanding tradition wherein hesitance often blankets these life-altering decisions.
Sure enough, after a fleeting silence, you prepare for the inevitable response that would echo in your ears like an unwelcome refrain, one you were all too familiar with.
But just as you brace yourself for a “no,” the radio crackles to life again—this time with a tidal wave of unexpected urgency.
"Yes! Y/N? Can you hear me? The team has approved the overtake of Max! Go for it!" Joseph’s voice bursts through with a burst of energy, jolting you from your reverie.
Instinctively, your foot plunges onto the accelerator as you channel every ounce of skill, focus, and ambition into propelling yourself forward.
You swiftly navigate the corner, your car gliding through the air like a bird released from captivity, and in that moment of pure adrenaline, you find yourself eclipsing Max, reclaiming the lead with undeniable ferocity.
As you settle into your newfound position at first place, the tension morphs into an exhilarating electrification coursing through your body.
Max, having momentarily lost his grip on the lead, now battles to fend off Charles and Lando from making any hazardous moves that might threaten your dominion at the front.
In the heat of the moment, the radio blaring with strategic updates fades into the background as your vision narrows solely on the track ahead—you are a race car driver, a gladiator in this battle of speed, and nothing else matters.
The world dissolves into monochrome, your focus unwavering as you grip the wheel like it’s a lifeline.
Distant cheers from the crowd seep through your concentration, yet you silence those voices, drowning out distractions as you become acutely aware of the weight of the race, the dreams that hang delicately in the balance—everything is at stake.
You feel sweat trickling down your temple and a syrupy mix of anticipation and fear soaring through your chest, but as you approach the final laps, triumph struggles to emerge from the depths of your hardwork.
Amidst the exhilarating distractions, your attention sharpens when you catch a faint echo of Joseph’s voice cutting through the chatter. "Y/N! You did it! You won!"
The joyous eruption on the other end floods your senses with disbelief, a tidal wave of emotions crashing over you.
In that electrifying moment, as you maintain your grip on the wheel for the last few seconds, reality begins to wash over you like an exhilarating wave, and the tears you could feel brewing now threaten to spill, your triumph intertwining with your vulnerability.
With the checkered flag waving triumphantly in the air, you ease down on the accelerator, the sensation of victory swelling inside you as you let a muffled cry of delight escape your lips.
You slow your car and finally breathe, releasing all the pent-up energy, as the realization of your success resonates in every fiber of your being.
"You did it, Y/N! You won the grand prix!" Joseph's voice dances through the radio, resonating with an infectious glee.
A burst of laughter escapes your lips, and for the first time, the roar of the crowd—a melodic blend of cheers—warms your heart.
As you roll to a stop, the world around you crescendos into a celebration of your harrowing journey—each twist, each turn, each heartbeat racing in sync with the rhythm of victory.
The moment is surreal, and as you step out of the car, you are not just a racer anymore; you are a triumphant force that turned dreams into reality, and no title could encapsulate the pride swelling within you.
You parked the car in front of the first-place stand, your heart racing as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a moment to absorb the victory that had just unfolded; it was surreal, almost like a scene plucked from your wildest dreams.
You stood on the hood of your car, exhilaration bubbling up inside you as you raised your fists in triumph, thrusting them into the air with a euphoric fist bump that echoed your unrestrained joy.
The cheers of the crowd swirled around you, a chorus of celebration, and for a heartbeat, the entire world felt like it paused in honour of your hard-fought achievement.
The weight of every early morning, every late night, every moment spent honing your driving in the shadows now seemed beautifully light, overshadowed by the sheer thrill of the moment.
As you jumped off the car with a renewed sense of vitality, you sprinted toward your team, their faces lit up with genuine happiness.
It marked a pivotal moment, one where they no longer treated you as fragile or merely a woman in a male-dominated sport; instead, they embraced you like a teammate, a winner.
You felt the warmth of their hugs wrapping around you, their joy infectious in a way that washed away any lingering doubts you had ever held about your place in this fierce and demanding environment.
“I can’t believe we did it!” you exclaimed, looking around at their beaming faces, heart swelling.
Some laughing tears glistening in their eyes, as they crowded around you, lifting you momentarily off your feet, celebrating not only your victory but the growth of a team bound together by perseverance and shared dreams.
Max eventually pulled up in front of the second-place station, his car’s engine rumbling to a soft stop just a few feet away from you. He stepped out, the sunlight catching the edges of his helmet as he removed it, revealing a look of pure delight plastered across his face.
It was a sight that brightened your heart; his genuine smile mirrored your own, a silent acknowledgment of the fierce competition that had just transpired on the track.
You could hardly control the emotions that swelled within you. With an impulsive rush, you charged toward him, unable to contain the joy of your victory.
In a flurry of excitement, you leaped into his arms, a spontaneous act born from the adrenaline still dancing through your body. He caught you effortlessly, his hands cradling your back protectively, and in that moment, the world shrank down to just the two of you.
“I won!" you declared, breathless, your voice a mixture of disbelief and sheer happiness, as if saying it out loud might make the victory feel more real.
A grin split Max's face wider, and you could see the pride sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah, you won! Congratulations!" he echoed, his voice turning melodic with the thrill of your accomplishment.
His embrace tightened around you, and you melted into the moment, filled with a sense of camaraderie and respect that had blossomed between you two over the course of your racing journeys.
As he set you back on your feet, laughter bubbled up once again, infectious and wildly free.
"I hope I didn't catch you off guard with that leap," you admitted, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice as you took a sip from your drink.
"Not at all! I’m just thrilled for you," Max replied, his cheeks flushed with excitement as he gave you a friendly pat on the back.
After the interview with the top three winners, you, Max, and Charles settled into the conference room, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement as the race replay flickered on the screen. The tension was palpable as the footage captured the thrilling moments of the competition.
"Wow! That was such a turn!" Charles exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his brow, clearly still feeling the adrenaline from the race.
He was referring to the intense maneuver where he nearly overtook Lando, a moment that had everyone on the edge of their seats.
As the race continued to unfold on the screen, you found yourself lost in thought, your mind racing with the events that had just transpired.
You focused on your breathing, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You had actually won.
Max, sitting beside you, noticed your silence and turned his attention toward you, his eyes filled with concern.
"Hey, are you alright?" he asked softly, breaking the tension in the room. His voice was steady, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of the race replay.
You nodded slowly, appreciating Max's concern but still feeling the weight of the moment. "Yeah, just processing everything," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
After the conference wrapped up, the divers were given the freedom to either retreat to their driver’s rooms or celebrate with their teams and families.
However, the atmosphere was tinged with concern. The race winner was notably absent, and everyone had been eagerly anticipating a celebration for your first victory.
But after you dashed out of the conference room in a flurry, you seemed to vanish without a trace.
Everyone, especially Max, who had reached out to congratulate you repeatedly, was waiting, eager for you to join them in the festivities.
Max had noticed your absence almost immediately after the conference ended. The smile that had danced on his lips dimmed when you didn't join the team to celebrate; he frequently glanced toward the driver’s room, a sense of unease gnawing at his gut.
The more he thought about it, the more his concern deepened; it wasn't like you to shy away from such moments of triumph.
As teammates and family began to cheer and revel in the evening's wins, Max made the decision to search for you.
His quest took him to the paddock and then to your garage, but each passing minute only heightened his worries. "Where could you be, Y/N?" he murmured to himself, frustration lacing his voice as he traversed the familiar paths of the circuit, searching desperately for a glimpse of you.
His heart raced with anxiety; he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Finally, his gaze landed on the door of your driver's room, slightly ajar, like a whisper beckoning him to enter. Without a second thought, he approached and knocked gently, "Y/N, are you in there?"
Listening intently, he leaned closer to the door and was met with faint whimpers that sent a chill down his spine.
Panic surged through him.
This wasn’t just a moment of celebration for you; it felt like a cry for help, echoing through the cold corridor.
Without waiting for a response, he pushed the door open wider, bracing himself for whatever he might find—though nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes when the door creaked open.
The scene unfolded before him like a nightmare; your so-called boyfriend stood menacingly above you, his hand raised as if poised to strike, while your frail form displayed clear signs of distress—your face bruised, tears streaming down your cheeks, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment as he took stock of the situation, the cruel contrast of celebration outside and the terrifying reality inside your room.
"What the hell is going on here?" Max's voice cut through the air, laced with fury as he stepped into the room, instinctively placing himself between you and the looming threat.
In that instant, your boyfriend's grip on your collar slackened, surprise washing over his features as he turned to face Max.
“Stay out of this, Max! This has nothing to do with you,” your boyfriend snarled, his bravado faltering under the sudden scrutiny.
But Max remained steadfast, stepping closer, his presence commanding as he glared at the man who had dared to raise a hand against you.
“You’re wrong. It has everything to do with me. Y/N is my friend, and I won’t let you hurt her,” he replied, his voice steady yet filled with palpable tension.
Your eyes met Max's, a flicker of hope igniting amidst despair, and despite everything, the warmth of that friendship washed over you.
Max's voice echoed through the room, a mix of frustration and urgency. "You need to leave now!" he shouted, his eyes locked onto your boyfriend, who stood there with clenched fists and a scowl that could cut glass.
The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice through. Your boyfriend hesitated, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, but something in Max's tone made him reconsider.
"Fine," he finally muttered, his voice low and filled with resentment. "I’ll go, but this isn’t over."
With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving you and Max in a heavy silence.
“Max, please…” you managed to choke out, your voice hoarse as the fear and pain slowly ebbed. “I just…I just wanted to celebrate, but I didn’t know who I could trust. I thought…”
Your voice faltered as the tears resumed their steady flow. Max's gaze softened as he turned back to you, the protective barrier he had formed in front of you embodying more than just physical defense.
“You can trust me, Y/N,” he said firmly, his expression shifting to one of concern.
With Max's unwavering support behind you, the resolve within you began to build.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling, but a hint of strength colored your tone.
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livin4woso · 4 months ago
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She's just a softie (aitana bonmati x buff! reader)
Summary- reader has created quite a known track record to be scary on and off the pitch with even some teammates being scared of your size. However, aitana sees you for what you really are a big softie, yet her teamates don't believe it until they see it.
Your whole life to anyone who didn't know you would suggest you lived in the gym. Your toned body speaks for itself, showing the hard work you put in each day. Then, later in life came along the tattoos that were littered across your body with a new one appearing on your skin ever so often.
All this combined left you to be scary looking person and you're naturally shy and introverted behaviour was instead mixed up with the ideas of you being cocky and arrogant towards people which was far from the truth yet people were intimidated by your presence and never tried to cross paths with it.
However there was one person who saw beyond the looks and that was aitana she was never scared of your 5,11 ft muscly tattooed build she saw you for the real you a shy nerdy girl who was a big softie. It was quite a funny site for the girls at barca when they found out you were together yet they still didn't believe you were good enough for her.
"Oh come on, aita, you can do so much better someone who isn't self obsessed and is so arrogant that she won't even talk to us," frido said when they were walking down the tunnel to training. "Look you have no idea what y/n is like and the answer is no i won't because too me she is nothing what you think she is and i will prove it too you" aitana replied storming off from her friend. She knew her friends wouldn't approve, but they had never given you the chance to even speak, and because you're too shy to speak first, you just never did.
You and aitana had been dating for around 6 months when she decided to prove everyone you were not as tough as people thought you were. It was a long day at training and secretly aitana had planned for team bonding at your shared apartment too show you were a big softie for her.
"Im tired aita please can we cuddle on the couch" you asked walked into the living room "mhm sure bebe just go shower and change then we can" she replied kissing your cheek while standing on her tip toes to reach. As you went to shower she had text for the girls too come round for an hour later and had given frido and ingrid a key to let themselves in as she knew she wouldn't be able to open the door with you lay on her.
After both of you were ready. You practically threw the smaller girl on the couch and dropped yourself on top of her. "Can you play with my hair please" you asked giving her puppy eyes that she couldn't resist. "Of course amor just relax and go to sleep I'll wake you later" she said as her fingers carded gently through your hair. It took about 10 minutes until your breaths evened out and were tickling aitanas neck.
As she sat on her phone scrolling through social media, she heard the key unlock the door when her 3 friends had opened the door. It was ingrid mapi and frido who had arrived first and walked towards the living room. However, when walking through what was once just aitanas apartment, they noticed the subtle changes of the additions of lego sets and old comics scattered across the room, which obviously didn't come from aitana. Then they reached the couch, and thats where they saw it. Your larger figure wrapped around aitana clinging onto her like she would disappear if you let go.
Frido was stood mouth agape and ingrid was pulling a similar face then mapi was so in shock she even went and took a photo of how yous were laying on the couch together. "See i told you she was a big softie, she's just really shy and a bit nerdy if you haven't caught on to the new decorations in the rooms" aitana said with a shit eating grin on her face knowing she'd proved all her friends wrong. "So you're telling me that theee y/n y/l/n is infact a massive nerd and isn't cocky but rather scared to talk to us" frido said almost in a state of shock which aitana just nodded in response.
As more piled in from the team, each with a similar reaction. The volume in the room getting gradually louder, which caused you to stir from your sleep "aita whys it so noisy in here? Have you got the tv on full volume?" You asked groggily, lifting your head from the crook of her neck to find your whole team in your living room."erm how long have yous been here?" You asked your cheeks flushing a dark shade of red in embarrassment. "Long enough to know you're not so tough as you look and aitana makes you a massive teddy bear," mapi responded, causing the room to break into laughter.
Safe to say after that day, no one questioned yours and aitanas relationship, and since then, the team realised your true self, the one aitana had seen in the first place.
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auroreliis · 3 months ago
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Hi! If you're comfortable with it, could I request batfams reactions to a reader who's suddenly clingy on their period or something similar? Normally I like my personal space but I am desperate for some type of warmth because cramps are actually killing me 💔
Bruce would still keep his distance, as he knows you don’t like physical touch. However, he would still be around you more, always asking if you need something. Anything sweet? Any pads? Any source of warmth? He will provide it immediately and be very understanding to you lashing out (don’t worry, he knows you can’t control it).
"What is it? You need pain killers?" He rumages in the bag he brought with him and hands you some pain killers.
"Hm? Chocolate? Yes, right awa-...what? Oh, oreo chocolate...? Mh. Fine, I'll go get some."
Dick would be very cuddly, almost as though HE’S on the period. He would hug you and sometimes even carry you around, despite your complaints…
“PUT ME DOWN YOU OVERSIZED CIRCUS CLOWN”
“:(”
Would he put you down? Well, yes. However, only at the destination. Then, after putting you down, he would take a step back and remain at that distance for about 5 minutes. After that, he would hug you again. And so the cycle repeats.
It does annoy you a lot, however, he is COMPLETELY unbothered by your shouting and your complaining. Like, dude. Take a fucking hint, will you? Obviously, since he’s already there, he also provides you with whatever you need. This means: If you want him to leave while also making him think that he’s doing you a favour, go send him to do something like getting you food or spare clothes. He will happily skip off, thinking he’s gaining your favour.
Jason would be playing with fire, always bothering you with stupid requests.
“So, wanna come to the library with me? I wanna go read something, but I also want you to be there”
You grumble, clearly declining his request.
“Well? Yes or no?” He is not taking the hint.
“No.” You mutter.
“What? A little louder, please”, he leans in closer.
“I SAID NO. Leave me the fuck alone. I want nothing to do with you. Haven’t I made that clear? Are you too stupid to notice? Do I need to be more direct?”
“:d”
At that point, he gives up for his own safety.
Tim, the leech, uses this opportunity, almost viewing it as a blessing.
“Heyyyyy, I have a heating pouch and all your favourite snacks and drinks and your favourite show prepared. If you come over to my room, I’ll make sure that nobody enters beside you and me AND I’ll let you take up the whole bed while I sit on a chair. What do you say? Wanna come to my room? :)”
If you foolishly decide to reject his offer, he will work hard to come up with something more alluring. Tim doesn’t give up easily.
Damian remains professional. He would probably create a presentation highlighting why you should ask him for help during hard times and not his brothers.
“Sibling. I am able to provide you with anything you require. As you know, whatever I provide is better than what anyone else in this manor could provide, hence why you should only ask me for help. Additionally, I am not as pushy as the other rejects, so taking up my offers is most ideal for you too. My goal is to help you, while their goal is to be in your proximity. Compare our values and see which you are most satisfied with.”
Stephanie and Cassandra completely understand. Despite how hard the others try, the girls would naturally be of most help. They’ve been there, they just get it. They also don’t annoy you, so you spend most of your period by their side. They just aren’t as loud and pushy as the others.
Secret bonding moment unlocked.
With special permission from Bruce (which they got with a lot of yapping and convincing), they get a hotel room and stay there with you until your period is over. This is very refreshing, as you don’t have to deal with the boys anymore and finally have some peace.
Honestly, the manor is always full at all times, but now it’s just the 3 of you. You all bond and have fun while the rest misses you. No, seriously, prepare for lots of cuddles to make up for your lacking presence </3
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago
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SWEET ESCAPE ♡
pairing: carlos oliveira x puppy-hybrid!fem!reader x chris redfield
summary: carlos takes off for a few weeks to plan an escape from umbrella for you and him. during that time, he enlists chris redfield to watch over you. when he returns, the two men you've come to care about want to have some fun with you.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, threesome, hybrid!reader, daddy kink/ddlg
a/n: first kinktober fic yay. i know the pictures don't match timeline wise but re5 chris is my fav so let's pretend. i'm gonna try to get my kinktober fics out early each day (someone suggested 3 am which i think is totally cute) but we'll see how that goes. thank you guys for reading, reblogging, and commenting. smoochies <3
kinktober slot: day 1 - hybrids
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"I've only been gone a couple weeks, pup. Did ya already forget who your daddy is?" Carlos's voice sounds through Chris's living room.
As soon as you hear the familiar timbre, your head snaps in his direction, ears perked up and tail already wagging fast enough to create a tornado. You hop off your spot on Chris's lap and bolt over to the man you'd been missing for the past few weeks.
You launch yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck to get a deep breath of his scent. His laughter vibrates in his chest against yours, and he spins you around like some princess at the end of a cartoon.
"I didn't forget. I could never forget," you mumble and nuzzle the beating warmth of his pulse point.
"I know, puppy," he chuckles, rubbing your back before he sets you on your feet. "You look like you were pretty comfortable with Chris though."
The words aren't said with malice or jealousy, just some more teasing. Carlos expected this when he left you in Chris's care. As soon as Jill handed him the scrap of paper with Redfield's number, he assumed you'd form a bond with the other man.
He wasn't stupid, and he knew you. His sweet puppy girl. You were his partner in the field, given to him by Umbrella. But now he was done with Umbrella's shit, so by extension, you were too. The past couple weeks he'd been gone was spent making arrangements for you two to flee to somewhere they'd never be able to drag either of you into their meaningless war ever again.
Gently scratching behind your ear, he sways a bit with you in his arms. He'd missed the feeling of your smaller frame against the muscles of his chest.
He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. Ever since you'd skittered to him from the lineup of other mercenary hybrids, he felt you latch on to some deep part of him. It was why he was gonna get you out of this life where you and him were treated like weapons.
When deciding who to leave you with, his first choice had been Jill. He trusted her, and she understood what you were and what you would need. It's not that you couldn't take care of yourself; you were physically and mentally capable of that. You just suffered from a touch of separation anxiety as a result of the canine attributes inserted into your DNA. You needed someone to devote yourself to, someone to keep you from being too lonely. She wasn't up for that task though. She had enough emotional baggage on her own. She couldn't support yours.
That's why she recommended Chris. Responsible, caring, attentive. He had all the right qualities to handle someone like you. Carlos met with him, and he had to agree. He introduced you to the other man, and you had no problem getting along. If Jill trusted him and you didn't sense anything off, he felt fine about leaving you with the guy.
But still, he knows how you are. He knows you can be needy. You love physical affection. You love having a lap to sit on and a firm hand to give you head pats and ear scratches. Just add a deep voice to coo at you about how you're such a good girl, just the sweetest little thing and you're set.
You look up at Carlos with a shy smile in response to his teasing. "That's just cause Chris is nice to me," you say.
He huffs another laugh and heads over to the couch with you, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap.
"I'm sure he is," he says, bouncing you a couple times before directing his gaze to the man sitting in the nearby chair. "Has she been good for you?"
"Of course. No complaints from me," he says. The flat line of his lips tilts upwards slightly.
"That's my girl," Carlos praises with a peck to your cheek, "Chris took good care of you, huh?"
You nod proudly, drawing chuckles from both of the men in the room.
"Did he do it as good as daddy?"
That gets a less certain response from you, but it garners the same amount of amusement from them.
"Good girl. Don't wanna hurt anyone's feelings, huh?" he teases.
Chris watches on and interjects. "I think I did a pretty good job though. Didn't I, puppy?"
He speaks with a knowing cadence, subtle seductiveness. You know what he's implying but so does Carlos. Before he'd left you with Chris, he'd been honest about the full nature of your relationship. Told him you were used to getting his dick at least once a day. It was basically a part of your bedtime routine, cumming knocked your lights out better than any melatonin could.
He wasn't sure if you'd want that from Chris. Certainly not right away. But after a week or so, he could picture you getting a little needy, desperate for something to fill the void Carlos's absence had created. And Chris was the perfect candidate. Big and bulky, warm and gentle. He wasn't mad about it. He made peace with the possibility of this happening. Even if you did let Chris soothe you for a few nights, you'd still be coming with him when the fog cleared.
"You did good," you agree with Chris. One of your legs lazily swings as it dangles from Carlos's lap, brushing the leather edge of his boot each time.
"Just good? I remember you saying it was more than good," Chris taunts affectionately.
The words trigger another wave of timidity over you. You sink back into the safety of Carlos's embrace and shrug. "It was pretty good."
"What'd Chris do that was pretty good?" Carlos chimes in. 
"Nothing," you say, too fast for it to be the truth.
"Oh c'mon. You can tell me," he says before teasing a little more, "You're not gonna get in trouble."
You pause, mulling over your decision. But then you decide to give in a little.
"He gave me a special treat."
Carlos grins at the answer. Now that you had admitted it in your terms, he knew he could keep poking and prodding. Even though he was ok with what had happened between you and Chris, he still felt an air of possession pluming up within him. The desire to make sure you knew who you belonged to.
"A special treat?" he echoes, one of his hands sliding over your thighs and between your legs. He doesn't actually do anything there, but you still jolt at the feeling.
You hear Chris chuckle from where he's sitting, bringing heat to your cheeks.
"Why don't you just tell him, sweetheart? You had no problem begging for it when we were alone," the older man taunts.
"Doesn't surprise me. She knows how to get what she wants," Carlos says. His fingers move back and forth on your inner thigh.
You squirm on his lap, looking up at him with your pair of natural puppy eyes. The truth floats between all three of you, left unsaid but known by everyone.
"What're you acting so shy for?" Carlos coos as his large hands slide up your waist, "You have nothing to hide."
Chris rises from his chair and sits on the couch with you and Carlos, only maintaining the illusion of separation by sitting at the other end.
Leaning into Carlos more, you let the question remain unanswered. Interest swirls in your pupils at the potential of Chris moving closer.
"Acting like I'm a stranger now?" he jokes.
You shake your head. Your eyes dart between the two of them as if they were two wolves closing in, ready to tear you apart.
"Don't be so nervous, baby. You know daddy's gonna take care of you," Carlos whispers.
And he stays true to his word. After a little more teasing, your clothes have come off while his are pushed around, leaving the necessary parts accessible. Chris stays in his spot mostly watching, only interjecting when needed.
When they get down to it, you end up face-down, ass in the air on Chris's couch. Carlos ruts into your cunt from behind, panting with each sloppy thrust. Your head bobbles against the other man's thigh. Soft whimpers pour out against the rough denim of his jeans. His hand strokes over the curve of your head in a soothing rhythm.
"Fuck, I've been missing this," Carlos grunts from behind you.
His hand splays across the small of your back and pushes down, keeping you at the perfect angle to take each thrust to the hilt. You whine as his cock rams deep into your insides. The occasional yelp bursts from your lips when his tip brushes your cervix, but Chris hushes you from above with sweet reassurances.
"You're taking it so well, puppy. Taking your daddy so well," he coos. His hand not occupied with petting you pumps over his cock lazily.
Your fingers dig into the meat of his leg. You nod weakly to affirm his statement. Carlos chuckles at your fucked out state and smacks your ass, knocking you forward.
"He's right. I can tell you've been missin' this. She's squeezing me like she wants me to never leave again," he rasps. His shaggy hair sways with the rocking of his hips.
"Never- ah- never want you to leave again," you repeat, your lips smooshing against Chris.
"Daddy's not leaving, baby. Never again," he growls while plowing into you.
A chorus of moans and whines come from you. The drag of his cock on your velvet inner walls has your eyes rolling back and your legs kicking lightly against the cushions.
Chris watches from above, the pace at which he jerks himself off steadily increasing. He can see a small patch of drool on his pants where your head lies. Reaching for you, he cups your jaw and lifts your head to make you look at him.
He sticks his hand out in front of your mouth and simply says "Lick."
You're not in any place to question the order right now, so you do as he tells you. You stick your tongue out and lick a broad stripe from the base of his palm to the tip of his middle finger.
He watches on with satisfaction as you wet his hand. When you're done, he lets go and allows your head to thud against his leg again. He brings the now saliva-slick palm back to his length and gives it a few tugs, the sensation much smoother with your added lubrication.
Carlos grins at the sight. He grabs you by the back of your neck and tugs you upward, forcing your spine to arch and his cock to slide even deeper.
A loud cry echoes from you at the new angle, but he holds you there and keeps bouncing his hips against the plush flesh of your ass.
"Look at you, so polite for Chris," he teases.
You can't really respond. The way your head bobbles around is enough to keep any coherent words from forming inside your mind. 
"Chris," he says, calling the attention of the older man, "Isn't she a good girl?"
He takes the bait and nods. "Of course she is. Such a good girl," he agrees.
Your tail wags, brushing against Carlos's stomach in the process. He laughs and uses his freehand to pat your ass again.
"You hear that, babydoll? Everyone knows how well-behaved you are. The perfect little puppy."
Now you do manage to respond. A loud whine bursts from your lips and you nod wildly.
"Uh-huh," you choke out, "'m daddy's perfect puppy."
"That's right," he huffs out with a laugh, "Think you deserve a treat."
Your tail starts whacking back and forth harder between him and you.
"You think you can cum? Think you can cum for daddy?" he asks.
Another quick nod shakes your head up and down.
"Mhm! I can, I can, I can," you babble.
"That's my girl," he praises, "Do it for me then. I want you to cum all over my cock."
To help you out a little, he snakes his free hand around your waist and pushes his fingers between your thighs. His digits swirl around your swollen little bud, sending shocks of pure ecstasy through you. You feel the building fizzle in your belly that makes your toes curl. Your fingers curl and uncurl, trying to find anything to hold onto.
Chris offers you the hand he's not using to pleasure himself. You snatch it and lock on, holding it for dear life while Carlos fucks into you hard. His own cock is flushed and aching, ready for release as well. He strokes it a bit faster, beating his fist up and down, up and down.
Carlos can feel you tighten up. Your body trembles with its proximity to release. He circles his fingers with more speed and applies a bit more pressure.
"That's it, baby," he coaxes from behind you, "That's it. Come on. Cum for daddy. Be a good girl for me. Show Chris how pretty you look when you let go."
The words send you crashing over the edge. You throw your head back and buck violently in his grasp. His strong arms keep you in place. They hold you nice and secure so he can fuck you through it.
Chris finishes next, unable to take the sight of you unraveling. He groans and melts against the plush cushion behind him. Pearly white ropes of cum jump from the tip and spurt onto the skin of his stomach. He pumps every last drop out of himself, still holding your wavering hand as Carlos starts to shoot his own load into you.
He moans loud too and strengthens his grip around you. The last few thrusts are particularly brutal. They nearly topple you over flat onto your face.
Carlos doesn't unhand you until he's done and feels his cum has been fucked nice and deep into you, hard enough to make up for the period of separation that preceded this.
When he pulls out of you, he scoops your body up and twists you around to cradle you in his lap.
"My baby," he whispers between a few kisses, "Always so good for me."
You nuzzle into the affection, and he strokes your jaw, directing you to look up at him. His fingers then turn your head, guiding you to look at the other man in the room.
"Chris did such a good job taking care of you. I think you should tell him thank you," he says.
You look at Chris with shyness in your eyes, as if he hadn't just watched you get your brains fucked out. "Thank you, Chris," you say.
He smirks at you, still a bit hazy from his own release. "No problem, pretty girl."
You can feel Carlos grinning against the side of your head. "How about you show Chris how thankful you are. Give him something to remember before we hit the road," he teases.
Now, Chris smiles and pats his lap. "He's right. I'm gonna miss you once you're gone, puppy. Maybe you can help me feel a little better about it."
A smile of your own spreads across your face. Leaning forward, you crawl in Chris's direction. At this rate, you'd be tiring yourself out, ready to sleep through the long car ride tonight and wake up at the location of your sweet escape.
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maririna · 9 months ago
Text
✧˚ · .Cat Got Your Tongue?
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ Dr. Ratio x Reader
> In which you bring home a stray.
Word Count: 1.7k
Mari's Note: So I had this dream with him and a cat and I felt compelled to write something with it lol. Surprisingly, it came out sorta cute than I thought <3
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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"No. Absolutely not, I would not agree to such a proposal."
"Aww, why not?" You raise its paw waving it as if saying hello towards a certain grumpy lover while you support the feline with your free hand, keeping it close to your chest. "I think it'll be beneficial to keep it."
Minutes prior to your arrival, you had overheard high pitched whines directing from a secluded alleyway that was surrounded by stagnant puddles as a result of the dreary rain that just occurred.
Discovering the source, you were met with a surprising sight of a cat in a box, finding solace in the warmth of a battered newspaper, eyes wide and seemingly clueless from the situation it was in. You ofcourse had fallen in love and before you came to your senses, you were already in front of the door with said cat. 
It's rather unusual for you to make a grandiose request to Veritas, being satisfied with what you have and had been given, you are never used to asking for anything more. Perhaps it was intuition that struck you and you decided to stick with it.
"What a preposterous idea. I do not need some creature's mouth to feed." Veritas sighs, his hand rubbing his forehead. "Such a despicable thing would have the potential to create chaos and disruption to my work and research."
You raise your eyebrows, "Oh? Who said you'll take care of it? I'll fully take responsibility."
"Please?" You press, "The poor thing must have been starving and besides, we need a friend at home." 
"Good grief, have you even acknowledged the fact that the Felis catus species possess only an average IQ of 2?" He sighs as you shoot him a pleading gaze, the cat mewling in your arms, unaware of the doctor's insult.
With a hard look, he huffs and finally gives in. 
"Fine, only if you were to provide adequate training, necessities, complete supervision and most significantly, establish proper behavior, I may allow your preposition. However!" he halts. "If it interferes with my research and our house conditions, it's out."
You cheer, scurrying your feet to give a peck on his cheek, following with a stretch of your arms for the cat to do the same except it was met with a palm of his hand. "Oh no, no. Not the animal." 
You wont lie, having a new family to the household made things livelier, especially on the days where Veritas had been absent due to the Intelligentsia Guild. The cat had quite a calming effect, you were able to indulge into your work and daily schedule without the rush of anxiety on those same days. With dedicating your free time towards bonding and training the cat, you had also set aside its own space in your humble abode far Veritas's work desk and absolutely further from the intricate stone carvings in the shape of your lover. 
You also discovered that your new companion is a lovely and polite tom cat.
Veritas so far (and so good) did not seem to mind, letting the animal even roam around the living room frequently since it was a portion of the home that contained none of his papers and nor does he seem to mind the soft meows requesting for attention or inquiries of the food bowl being filled.
You are currently settled down on your couch with your darling joined with you. His eyes concentrate at a book on hand, the gentle sound of pages being flipped by the featherlight touches of his fingers fills the room alongside the occasional soft purrs of your feline friend who is nestled comfortably onto your lap. Its rhythmic breathing soothes you as you hum in content, nothing but peace and tranquility envelopes the space.
You were interrupted from your thoughts with the sound of Veritas’s book slam shut.
“Have you gotten accustomed to the new addition to our household? I am not one who engages nor enjoys the affection and sentimentality derived from owning a domesticated animal, however in your case, you seem to say otherwise.”
“Does it seem obvious?” 
You focus on feeling the softness of the cat’s fur as you carefully thread it with your fingers. His ears twitch from your intrusion, eyes shot open like he was not asleep just a second ago, he lets out a yawn, flexing his back into a wide stretch with a flick of a tail. He jumps from your lap to the couch, kneading it. You grin, muttering a totally unapologetic ‘sorry’.
The cat strolls over, a faint purr rumbling from his chest as he begins nuzzling against Veritas's thigh who visibly flinches. You notice his hand almost ready to raise, only to have it actually end up meeting upon the animal’s head which meows in delight, pressing his muzzle to the palm of your significant other’s hand, rubbing against it.
You see him cringe and tense up but you still credit his effort and beam at the sight. To see him be physically affectionate with the animal was unexpected, deep down you assumed he might have disliked the cat. Maybe he is still foreign with the change. 
“I guess so, the cat has been very therapeutic to me if I'm being honest,” you add.
He scoffs, "Although that is something I can never relate to," you don't see it, but his eyes soften a bit. 
A hand rests on top of your hair, "If it refines your cognitive performance and brain activity then I would have no objections and no reason not to accept the animal."
Veritas removes his hand and you almost miss the warmth. "Regardless, if he does not come aligned with my terms and conditions–"
"I know I know, geez. The cat has been nothing but a sweetheart." You cut him off and pout, "Isn't that right...?”
You pause.
“Uhm…”
Your partner raises a brow, "...are you implying you had never designated a name for him until now?"
You sweat, "...I haven't"
"Ridiculous."
"Well, it's hard to think of one!" you retort.
"Nonsense. You had already established a bond with him, although I would not necessarily care but I assumed it would have been natural to issue him a name.”
“You think of one then!” you puff your cheeks.
Veritas places his hand under his chin, absorbed in thought. Wait, Is he actually considering it?
“I would rather not. I am in no way having the slightest care over it as I deem it not crucial.”
You stick a tongue out to him, so much for having the tiniest belief from your heart in him. You can't help but deflate, feeling dejected that he doesn't fully welcome the cat as you expected.
For the next few days, you have been brainstorming, stubbornly attempting to choose a name, basking in countless research and books.
"Hmm, I don't like any of these." You groan in exasperation, rummaging through the pages of a book for a potential fit of a name, only to prove you no luck. Cursing under your breath, your face falls flat on the surface of a page.
A name is crucial for a pet, one to call out to, to get attached to, and to bond with, he deserves to have one like every other being. You have asked Veritas for any suggestions or if he can at least help but your actions bear no results.
With heavy defeat, you are forced to drag yourself towards the shelves for the cat's lunch. Geez you can't keep calling him just ‘cat’ forever, can you?
You spot the animal mewling over from the corner of your eye, trying to catch your attention to fulfill his hunger but notice something out of the ordinary.
Huh?
You see that he is wearing...a collar?
He tilts his head curiously, looking at you with doe eyes, meowing once more. You don't recall ever giving him one, only toys and cardboard boxes he seemed to like to conceal himself in all the time.
As you take a closer look, you discover something even more odd. A silver metal hanging around the edges of the leather–a name tag.
Your fingers glaze over the tag, feeling the sturdiness of the material, seeing a word engraved on it.
'Archimedes'.
You couldn't contain the smile that goes up to your face, your heart starts to race with happiness and relief. Only one person would come up with a certain name like this.
It seemed perfect for you, to think that he chose this name seems undoubtedly much like him. 
"Just so you are aware, I had scientifically engineered the collar to be a precise fit for him, including the exact millimeters alongside taking consideration of the feline's anatomy and measurements." 
Following the sound of a voice, you see the man himself, holding a piece of graph paper of what you assume is a detailed illustration of his creation as he carries himself with elegance and confidence.
"I created it to be comfortable, durable, and lightweight. In addition to that, I installed features that can accurately measure his vitals, from heartbeat to temperature with a built-in system that will notify us if there exists any malfunctions to his vitals."
As much as you are filled with joy and gratitude you couldn’t help but feel the need to go for the tease. 
"Oh? I thought you didn't want to keep him? Hm?" your tone is mischievous but playful.
You feign being in deep thought, resting a thumb underneath your chin. "Why is there a collar in him which by the way was specifically made for him by you and named him yourself if you wanted to get rid of him oh so badly?" 
"Research indicates having a feline cultivates a productive space for effective studying. I am simply experimenting with Archimedes. It would be favorable in my end to conduct my hypothesis if there is a word for him to respond to." He crosses his arms, his eyes suddenly interested in one of his many statues from the corner of the room.
"Right. Whatever floats your boat.” 
“That is known as buoyancy.”
...this man.
You lightly flick his forehead, trying to stop him from speaking any further as to save yourself from being trapped into another one of his hours-long lectures. 
“You are a dummy, y’know?” Before he could reply, you wrap your arms around him, his body relaxes, a silent invite for you to continue, feeling the tenderness and warmth of his skin. You brushed off strands of purple locks from his face, giving him a loving kiss. 
“Thank you, Veritas."
His eyes refuse to meet yours as he is rendered speechless.
"...Idiot"
"...But honestly, Veritas, you should have just opted for a normal collar."
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chiyuuchu · 5 months ago
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Can u do a bakugou best friend with reader (but he likes her….)
I. so close yet so far <3 (5th August 2024)
Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
Prompt! The all time favorite of best friends to lovers trope
a/n my first ever ask! I’m so happy!!
second part here!
Bakugou Katsuki had known Y/N since they were kids. They had grown up together, attended the same schools, and now, they were both students at U.A. High. Their bond was strong, forged through countless shared experiences, secrets, and laughter. Y/N was bubbly, carefree, and had a quirk that matched her personality perfectly—Bubble. She could create bubbles that could either imprison people or objects or explode with a force that rivaled Bakugou’s own explosive quirk.
Bakugou, on the other hand, was intense, driven, and fiercely protective of Y/N. Somewhere along the way, his feelings for her had evolved from mere friendship to something deeper. But he kept these feelings buried, afraid that confessing might ruin the perfect relationship they already had.
Their classmates often saw them together, and it wasn't long before they started to notice Bakugou's subtle affections.
"Dude, have you ever noticed how Bakugou is always with Y/N?" Kaminari whispered to Kirishima one day during lunch.
Kirishima nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty obvious he's got a thing for her. But I don't think Y/N has a clue."
"Well, they're best friends," Mina added, joining the conversation. "But do best friends really sleep together all the time and share clothes?"
The trio watched as Y/N bounced over to Bakugou, wearing one of his old t-shirts. She greeted him with a bright smile, and he responded with a rare, genuine smile of his own.
As the days passed, Bakugou’s friends became more convinced that he had feelings for Y/N. They decided to subtly encourage him to confess, but Bakugou was torn. He valued their friendship too much to risk losing it.
One evening, the Bakusquad was hanging out in the common room, and the conversation turned to relationships.
"Bakugou, do you like anyone?" Mina asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Bakugou scoffed. "None of your business, Pinky."
Kirishima nudged him playfully. "Come on, man. You can tell us. We’re your friends."
Bakugou hesitated, glancing at Y/N, who was laughing with Jirou across the room. He sighed internally, feeling the weight of his secret crush.
"It's complicated," he muttered. "I don't want to mess things up."
Kaminari leaned in, whispering, "But do you really think Y/N doesn't feel the same way? She spends so much time with you. Maybe she’s just waiting for you to make the first move."
Bakugou clenched his fists, frustration boiling inside him. He knew his friends were right, but the fear of ruining their friendship held him back.
Later that night, Bakugou found himself outside Y/N's dorm room. She opened the door, her face lighting up when she saw him.
"Hey, Katsuki! What’s up?"
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "We need to talk."
Y/N’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of concern. "Is everything okay?"
Bakugou took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "Yeah, it’s just... I need to tell you something important."
Y/N sat down on her bed, patting the spot next to her. "Okay, I’m listening."
Bakugou sat down, struggling to find the right words. "We've been best friends for a long time, right?"
Y/N nodded, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Of course. You’re my best friend, Katsuki."
He looked into her eyes, feeling a mixture of fear and hope. "Yeah, and that's the problem. I don’t want to mess things up."
Y/N looked confused. "Mess things up? What do you mean?"
Bakugou glanced around the room, feeling the pressure build. He had the perfect opportunity, but his nerves got the best of him.
"I... I just wanted to say thanks. For always being there for me," he said quickly, standing up. "You know, I don’t say it enough."
Y/N smiled, relief washing over her face. "Oh, Katsuki. You know I'll always be here for you. You don’t have to thank me."
Bakugou nodded, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah, well... I should get going. Training and all."
Y/N stood up, giving him a quick hug. "Take care, Katsuki."
He left her room, cursing himself for not taking the chance. But as he walked back to his own dorm, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had made the right choice. For now, their friendship would remain as it was—strong, unbroken, and precious.
Late at night in the quiet of the U.A. dorms, Bakugou Katsuki lay in his bed, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Just as he was about to slip into a deeper sleep, he heard a soft knock on his door.
"Katsuki?" came a trembling voice from the other side. "Are you awake?"
Bakugou immediately recognized the voice. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, come in."
The door creaked open, revealing Y/N standing there with a worried expression. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, closing the door behind her.
"What's wrong?" Bakugou asked, concern lacing his voice.
"I... I had a nightmare," Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't sleep, and I didn’t want to be alone."
Bakugou's heart softened. He patted the space next to him on the bed. "Come here."
Y/N walked over and climbed into his bed, nestling close to him. Bakugou wrapped his arms around her, holding her gently. He could feel her trembling, her breath shaky.
"You're safe now," he murmured, stroking her hair. "It was just a dream."
Y/N nodded, taking comfort in his presence. "Thank you, Katsuki. You're always here for me."
Bakugou tightened his hold on her, trying to ignore the pang of longing in his chest. "Of course, I am. I'll always be here for you."
Y/N snuggled closer, her breathing slowly evening out. "You're the best friend ever, Katsuki. I don’t know what I’d do without you."
Bakugou forced a smile, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah... best friend."
As Y/N drifted back to sleep, Bakugou stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how his feelings for her went far beyond friendship. But as he held her close, he realized that, for now, just being there for her was enough.
"Sleep well, Y/N," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll always protect you."
Bakugou stood at the edge of the training field, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Y/N and Uraraka spar. Y/N’s quirk, Bubble Burst, created shimmering, iridescent bubbles that floated around her, each one capable of popping into small explosions or trapping her opponent. Uraraka was giving it her all, using her Zero Gravity quirk to dodge and counter, but it was clear Y/N was holding her own.
Bakugou's eyes never left Y/N. He watched as she skillfully manipulated her bubbles, creating an almost mesmerizing display of light and color. Her face was lit up with determination, her movements fluid and confident. She was strong, capable, and everything he admired in a hero.
Yet, despite the pride swelling in his chest, there was an ache deep inside him. She was right there, so close, yet she felt so far out of reach. Every time she laughed or smiled, he felt his heart clench with the weight of unspoken words.
Uraraka managed to float over a particularly large bubble, giving Y/N a playful grin. "You're really good at this, Y/N! I can barely keep up!"
Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Thanks, Ochaco! You've gotten faster too!"
Bakugou clenched his fists, trying to suppress the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to be the one sparring with her, the one making her laugh, the one she turned to when she needed support. But every time he thought about telling her how he felt, the fear of ruining what they had held him back.
He watched as Y/N created a series of bubbles that surrounded Uraraka, who quickly floated out of their reach, laughing. Y/N’s expression was one of pure joy and concentration, and it took everything in Bakugou to not march over there and pull her into his arms.
"Hey, Bakugou!" Kirishima called from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You okay? You've been staring pretty hard."
Bakugou turned to face his friend, his usual scowl in place. "I'm fine, idiot. Just making sure they’re training right."
Kirishima raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press the issue. "Alright, if you say so. Wanna join in?"
Bakugou shook his head. "Not right now."
As Kirishima walked away, Bakugou turned his attention back to Y/N. She was closer now, laughing with Uraraka as they took a break from sparring. Her laughter was like a melody he could never tire of, and her smile was the light in his often-dark world.
All he ever wanted was right in front of him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to reach out and take it. The distance between them wasn’t measured in steps, but in unspoken words and unshared feelings.
One day, maybe, he’d find the courage to bridge that gap. But for now, he would remain where he was, watching her from afar, content with the knowledge that she was happy.
Even if it meant his own heart ached with the weight of longing.
The semester break had finally arrived, and Y/N found herself at the Bakugou residence, a place that felt like a second home. Mitsuki Bakugou, Katsuki’s mother, greeted her with a warm hug as she walked through the door.
“Y/N! It’s been too long!” Mitsuki beamed. “Come in, come in! We’re just setting the table for dinner.”
Y/N smiled, feeling the familiar comfort of the Bakugou household. “Thank you, Mitsuki. It’s great to be here.”
Katsuki’s father, Masaru, gave her a gentle nod as she entered the dining room. “Welcome, Y/N. It’s always a pleasure to have you here.”
Dinner was lively, filled with laughter and reminiscing about old times. Mitsuki loved teasing Katsuki, and tonight was no different. As they finished their meal and settled into the living room, Mitsuki’s curiosity got the better of her.
“So, Y/N,” Mitsuki began with a mischievous grin, “have you got any crushes at school?”
Y/N blushed, shaking her head. “No, not really. I’m not interested in anyone right now. I’m happy just having Katsuki around.”
Katsuki, who was sipping his drink, nearly choked. He tried to hide his flustered reaction, but his reddening ears gave him away. Mitsuki laughed, patting Y/N on the back.
“That’s sweet,” she said. “You two have always been close.”
Later that night, after the lights were dimmed and the house had settled into a comfortable silence, Katsuki found himself wide awake. Y/N was fast asleep in his bed, and he couldn’t stop thinking about his feelings for her. He slipped out of the room quietly, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water, only to find his father there, sipping tea at the table.
“Can’t sleep?” Masaru asked, looking up at his son.
Katsuki sighed, sitting down across from him. “Yeah, something like that.”
Masaru took another sip of his tea before speaking. “You know, Katsuki, it’s clear you care about Y/N a lot. If you really like her, you should tell her.”
Katsuki looked away, his fists clenching slightly. “What if she doesn’t feel the same? I don’t want to ruin what we have.”
Masaru gave him a gentle, understanding look. “You can’t control her feelings, son. But you owe it to yourself to be honest. If she doesn’t feel the same way, she won’t abandon you. You’ve been friends for too long. She values you, just as you value her.”
Katsuki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just... hard.”
“I know it is,” Masaru said softly. “But you’re strong, Katsuki. And no matter what happens, you’ll get through it.”
Katsuki nodded, feeling a bit more resolved. “Thanks, Dad.”
As he headed back to his room, he paused at the door, watching Y/N sleep peacefully in his bed. He knew he needed to tell her how he felt, but for now, he was content to let her rest, to savor these quiet moments of just being close.
He climbed back into bed carefully, lying down beside her. As he watched her breathe softly, he thought about his father’s words. Maybe one day, he’d find the courage to tell her. But for now, he’d cherish what they had, hoping that when the time came, he’d be ready to take that leap.
Late one evening, Bakugou lay sprawled on his bed, absently scrolling through the 1A group chat. His thumb paused over a string of messages from the girls:
Ochaco: "Did you hear? Some guy from Class 1B asked Y/N out!"
Mina: "Omg, I know! Do you think she went?"
Jirou: "She didn't mention anything to me. Maybe she kept it a secret."
Hagakure: "Why would she keep it a secret? This is huge news!"
Bakugou's grip tightened on his phone. Why hadn't Y/N told him? They always shared everything. Well, almost everything. His mind raced, picturing Y/N on a date with some random guy. The thought gnawed at him, unsettling him in ways he couldn't quite understand.
He tossed his phone aside and lay back, glaring at the ceiling. "Stupid," he muttered under his breath, reaching for his headphones and queuing up his playlist of intense, brooding music. As the heavy beats filled his ears, he tried to drown out his thoughts, but they only grew louder, replaying every interaction he'd had with Y/N over the years.
Hours later, just as he was about to drift into a fitful sleep, his door burst open. Y/N stood there, slightly out of breath, a puzzled look on her face.
"Katsuki, what's wrong? Why are you listening to this... emo music?" she asked, stepping into his room.
He sat up abruptly, pulling off his headphones. "How was your date?" he blurted out, his tone sharper than he intended.
Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. "Date? What are you talking about?"
"The guy from Class 1B," Bakugou said, trying to keep his voice steady. "You know, the one who asked you out."
Y/N tilted her head, genuinely confused. "Oh, that. I didn't go."
Bakugou shot up from his bed, his shock evident. "Why not?"
She shrugged casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I don't know. It's hard to find someone compatible with me, I guess."
Bakugou stared at her, his emotions a whirlwind of relief and confusion. "You... didn't want to go?"
Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Nope. I'd rather spend my time with people I care about. Like you."
Bakugou felt a weight lift off his chest, but he couldn't let his guard down completely. He scoffed, trying to mask his relief. "You're such a pain, you know that?"
Y/N laughed, moving closer and plopping down on the edge of his bed. "Yeah, but you wouldn't have it any other way."
He couldn't help but smirk, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't keep stuff from me, okay?"
She nodded, her eyes sincere. "Promise."
As they settled into a comfortable silence, Bakugou felt a newfound sense of hope. Maybe one day, he’d find the courage to tell her how he really felt. But for now, he was content to just have her by his side.
The next day, Bakugou found himself sitting with the Bakusquad in the common room. Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, and Jirou were lounging around, chatting about their latest training sessions. But as soon as Bakugou entered the room, their attention shifted.
Kirishima grinned, nudging Bakugou with his elbow. "Hey, man. How’s it going with Y/N?"
Bakugou rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "We're best friends, nothing more. It can't go anywhere."
The group exchanged concerned glances. Mina was the first to speak up, her tone gentle but firm. "Dude, since nobody is gonna say it then I will. You do realise that best friends don’t casually do the things you two do."
Kaminari nodded in agreement. "Yeah, like sleeping over all the time in the same bed, sharing clothes, spending every second together…"
Sero raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "You two are practically inseparable."
Jirou leaned forward, her expression serious. "Have you ever considered that maybe she feels the same way about you?"
Bakugou's eyes narrowed. "We’re just best friends. She said she’s not interested in anyone."
Mina sighed, crossing her arms. "People don’t just do all those things with someone they don’t have feelings for. You’re special to her, Bakugou."
Kirishima put a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, his voice earnest. "You need to be honest with yourself, man. Don’t let fear hold you back."
Bakugou stared at his friends, their words swirling in his mind. He knew they were right, but the fear of losing Y/N’s friendship if she didn’t feel the same way was too much to bear.
"We’ve been best friends our whole lives," Bakugou muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want to ruin that."
Jirou gave him a sympathetic look. "But what if you’re missing out on something even better?"
The room fell silent as Bakugou contemplated their words. He knew he needed to figure this out, for his sake and Y/N’s. But for now, he would have to gather the courage to take that first step.
The dorms were buzzing with excitement as the girls of Class 1-A gathered for a girls' night. Mina, Jirou, Ochaco, Tsuyu, Momo, Hagakure, and Y/N were settled in Y/N’s room, surrounded by snacks, blankets, and the latest gossip.
After a lot of giggling and chatting about their latest adventures and crushes, Mina leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, Y/N, do you like anyone?"
Y/N shook her head, smiling softly. "I’m not really interested in dating right now. I’m fine with just having my best friend, Bakugou."
Jirou raised an eyebrow. "Really? No one has caught your eye?"
Y/N shrugged. "It’s hard to find someone who’s the same standard as him. He’s...special."
Mina exchanged a knowing look with Jirou before asking, "Why not just go for Bakugou then?"
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "We’re just best friends."
Before she could say anything else, Hagakure chimed in, her voice filled with curiosity. "But best friends don’t usually do what you two do. You know, like sleeping over all the time in the same bed, sharing clothes, and more things I could add to the list."
Ochaco nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it sounds like there's more there than just friendship."
Tsuyu added, "Maybe what you’ve been looking for is right beside you."
Y/N blinked, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "I... I never really thought about it like that."
Y/N found herself unable to focus. The words from last night’s conversation with the girls echoed in her mind. She sat on the sidelines, watching Bakugou spar with Kirishima. His movements were precise, his strength and determination evident in every punch and kick. She couldn't help but notice how well they complemented each other, how perfect he seemed.
As she watched, she found herself checking him out, admiring his toned muscles and the intensity in his eyes. A blush crept up her cheeks as she realized she was thinking about Bakugou in a way she never had before.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Izuku approaching until he spoke. "Y/N, are you okay?"
Startled, she jumped slightly and turned to face him. "Oh, Izuku! You scared me." Izuku Midoriya was another one of her childhood friends whom she grew up with along with Bakugou.
Izuku gave her a concerned look. "Sorry about that. You seemed really deep in thought. Is everything alright?"
Y/N nodded, trying to shake off her flustered state. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just...thinking."
Izuku raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
Y/N glanced back at Bakugou, who was still sparring with Kirishima, and sighed. "Just...stuff."
Izuku followed her gaze and then looked back at her, a knowing smile forming on his lips. "Does this 'stuff' have anything to do with Kacchan?"
Y/N’s blush deepened, and she looked away. "Maybe."
Izuku chuckled softly. "You know, you two have always had something special. Maybe it’s time you both saw it too."
Izuku’s smile grew softer as he noticed Y/N’s reaction. “You know, Kacchan always been fond of you,” he said casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Y/N turned to him, her eyes widening in surprise. “What do you mean?”
Izuku looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. “I’ve known you both for a long time, and I’ve seen how he’s always been there for you. Even when we were kids, he would get really protective of you. It’s like he always wanted to make sure you were safe and happy.”
Y/N blinked, absorbing his words. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Izuku nodded. “He never says much about his feelings, but he’s always been the first one to help when you needed it. He just never lets his guard down, so it’s easy to miss. But I’ve noticed.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought. “I had no idea. I always thought he was just being his usual abrasive self.”
Izuku chuckled. “That’s his way of showing he cares. He might act tough, but he’s got a big heart, especially when it comes to you. You’ve always been important to him.”
Y/N glanced back at Bakugou, who was finishing up his sparring match. Her thoughts were racing, piecing together the moments they had shared over the years in a new light. “Maybe I should talk to him.”
Izuku smiled encouragingly. “I think that’s a good idea. Just remember, it’s okay to be open about your feelings too.”
Y/N nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Thanks, Izuku. I’ll think about it.”
Izuku gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Anytime. Good luck.”
As the days went by, the rest of Class 1-A couldn’t help but notice Y/N’s noticeably different behavior around Bakugou. It started subtly but quickly became apparent to everyone.
Mina, always quick to pick up on changes, nudged Kirishima during lunch. “Hey, have you noticed Y/N and Bakugou lately?”
Kirishima glanced over at the two. Y/N was laughing at something Bakugou said, a genuine, warm smile on her face. Bakugou, for once, seemed less gruff and more at ease. “Yeah, I see what you mean. They’ve been talking a lot more and… she looks really happy around him.”
Jirou, who was sitting nearby with her headphones around her neck, added, “I noticed that too. Y/N’s always been close with Bakugou, but recently, it’s like she’s more… attentive? I don’t know how to describe it.”
Hagakure, who was peering curiously from behind a book, chimed in, “And Bakugou’s not being his usual loud self around her. He’s actually listening to what she says and even laughing.”
Momo, who had been quietly observing, nodded thoughtfully. “It’s as if there’s a new dynamic between them. I wonder if something happened?”
As they continued to discuss, Y/N and Bakugou finished their conversation and walked toward their seats. Y/N’s face was slightly flushed, and Bakugou had a rare, relaxed smile.
Mina leaned over to Kirishima. “I bet something’s going on. We should find out what’s up.”
Kirishima grinned. “Definitely. It looks like our two friends might be getting closer. And judging by the way they’re acting, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s something more going on.”
Jirou laughed softly. “I think you’re right. It’s about time they figured it out.”
As Y/N and Bakugou settled into their seats, the rest of Class 1-A exchanged knowing glances, eager to see where this new development would lead.
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satellite-evans · 6 months ago
Text
Not Again
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Summary: This time it is another sibling that interrupts benedict and Y/N during a private moment
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: fluff, teasing, kissing
A/N:
This is the second part to Caught in the Act, I hope you all enjoy
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
You and Benedict decided to escape the bustle of the Bridgerton household by taking a leisurely stroll through the estate's expansive gardens. The fresh air and vibrant colors of the blooming flowers provided a sense of calmness.
The garden was one of your favorite places, a sanctuary where you could lose yourselves in the beauty of nature and each other’s company. The scent of roses and lavender wafted through the air, carried by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves and made the flowers dance. The gravel path crunched softly underfoot as you walked hand in hand, Benedict's thumb drawing soothing circles on the back of your hand.
Benedict glanced over at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, we could always hide out in the gazebo. It's secluded and peaceful."
You smiled, feeling a sense of adventure bubble up inside you. "Lead the way, Mr. Bridgerton."
The gazebo was nestled at the far end of the garden, surrounded by tall hedges and flowering shrubs. It was a charming, ivy-covered structure with a white lattice roof, offering a perfect hideaway from the world. As you approached, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, admiring how beautiful it looked.
As soon as you reached the gazebo, Benedict pulled you into his arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. The soft murmurs of the garden, the chirping of birds, and the distant hum of bees created a natural symphony that seemed to celebrate your love.
"Benedict," you murmured against his lips, "someone might see us."
"Let them," he whispered back, his hands roaming your back. "I don't care."
In that moment, nothing else mattered. Benedict's touch was both gentle and possessive, pulling you closer as if he wanted to convey his love and desire through the embrace alone. His lips moved with a hunger that matched your own, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between you all day.
Lost in the intoxicating mix of passion and affection, you allowed yourself to melt into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket. Every touch, every kiss felt like an affirmation of the deep connection you shared, a bond that transcended any embarrassment or interruption.
But just as the intensity of the moment peaked, the tranquility of the garden was shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps. You both jumped apart, hearts racing, turning to see none other than Anthony Bridgerton standing at the entrance of the gazebo, his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face.
"Well, well, well," Anthony drawled, his eyebrow raised. "What do we have here?"
You felt your face heat up with embarrassment. "Anthony, we were just—"
"Just what?" he interrupted, his tone teasing. "Enjoying a private moment in the middle of the garden where anyone could walk by?"
Benedict sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Anthony, do you ever knock before entering? Honestly, it's becoming a family habit."
Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. "Not for family. Besides, it's not every day I catch my brother in such a compromising position."
You buried your face in your hands, feeling utterly mortified. The humiliation of being caught again by a Bridgerton sibling was almost too much to bear. Benedict, on the other hand, looked more annoyed than embarrassed. "What do you want, Anthony?"
"I was looking for you," Anthony replied, his tone becoming more serious. "Mother wants to discuss the arrangements for the upcoming ball, and she insists on having everyone's input."
Benedict sighed again, clearly reluctant to leave your side. "Fine, we'll be there in a minute."
Anthony nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Don't take too long. You know how Mother gets when we're late."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you and Benedict alone once more. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration.
"I swear, this family has a knack for showing up at the most inconvenient times," Benedict muttered, pulling you back into his arms.
You couldn't help but laugh, but it was a strained sound, reflecting your inner turmoil. "I suppose that's part of the charm of being a Bridgerton," you said, though your voice wavered slightly.
As the reality of the situation settled in, your amusement faded, replaced by a sense of vulnerability. "I can't believe we were caught again. First Eloise, now Anthony. It's so embarrassing, Benedict."
Benedict cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to form. "I'm so sorry, my love. I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to spend some private time with you."
You nodded, appreciating his sincerity. "I know, and I love that about you. But you have to admit, this is partly your fault."
Benedict's eyes widened in mock indignation. "My fault? How is this my fault?"
You managed a small, teasing smile. "You're the one who insists on these secret rendezvous in places where your siblings have a habit of showing up unannounced. Maybe next time we should pick somewhere a bit more secluded?"
Benedict laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Point taken. Next time, I promise to choose a better location."
You leaned into his touch, feeling the tension dissipate. "Good. Because as much as I love our little adventures, I'd prefer them without an audience."
Benedict pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice filled with affection. "Deal. No more surprise appearances by the Bridgertons."
As you approached the grand entrance, laughter from inside reached your ears, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the sound of light chatter. You exchanged a glance with Benedict, both of you sharing a quiet moment of relief that the embarrassing interruption in the garden was behind you.
Just as you were about to step inside, a familiar voice rang out from the doorway. "Well, well, well! What do have we here?"
You froze, turning to see Eloise Bridgerton leaning against the doorframe, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. Benedict sighed beside you, clearly resigned to yet another round of teasing from his ever-curious sister.
"Eloise," Benedict began, his tone a mixture of exasperation and amusement, "please tell me you're not going to make this any worse."
Eloise chuckled, stepping forward to block your path into the house. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. But I am guessing that the reason the both are you are so flushed is not because the two of you went running."
Your cheeks flushed pink, and you shot Benedict a playful glare. "Anthony told you?"
Eloise nodded, her grin widening. "No, but I am guessing what he witnessed is not much different from what I had a couple of weeks ago. Do tell dear brother and sister, do you both have a knack for getting caught in compromising positions?"
Benedict rolled his eyes good-naturedly, though a hint of embarrassment lingered in his expression. "Could we perhaps continue this conversation inside or never?"
"Of course," Eloise replied, stepping aside to let you both pass. As you entered the house, she fell into step beside you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know, you're lucky it was Anthony who found you and not one of us younger ones. Gregory would have never let you live it down and Hyacinth would just keep asking questions."
You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of camaraderie despite the teasing. "I can only imagine."
Benedict shot his sister a pointed look as you reached the drawing-room door. "Eloise, I hope this doesn't become a family story."
She raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, but Benedict, stories like this are what make family gatherings so entertaining."
You exchanged a knowing glance with Benedict, silently acknowledging the truth in Eloise's words. Despite the embarrassment of being caught, there was a certain charm in the way the Bridgeton's teased and supported each other, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and laughter.
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amomentsescape · 9 months ago
Note
hello! Are you ok?, I hope so ❤️ (by the way, your writing is wonderful)
I would like to make a request for Yandere Slashers with an S/O who is a mermaid, who usually kills people who dare to invade her lakes, and she kills these people by drowning.
(I'm sorry if there are any writing errors, English is not my first language, and I'm writing this using Google translate)
Slashers with Mermaid! Reader
Yandere! Slashers x Reader
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo
A/N: I'm doing good, thank you <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, I decided I'm going to remove Lester from the Slasher requests. I'm still very much open to writing for him when specified, but I feel like he doesn't quite fit in with all the other Slashers).
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Freddy Krueger
Meeting you was quite literally the best thing to ever happen in his undead life
He likes to team up with you, constantly coming up with different ways you both can contribute to someone's death
You pull them under, and they suddenly wake up in Freddy's world
Your dynamic is pretty ideal too
Whenever you sleep, you can visit him
And he has no issues with popping into your waters just to say hi
He does this quite often, in fact
He is very aware you can take care of yourself, but he still gets worried
You're his
He doesn't trust anyone being around you
Even if your only intention is to kill them immediately
He understands that where you are now is your home, but that won't stop him from doing whatever he can to have you live in his world
He can create the perfect environment for you
Miles and miles of nothing but water if your heart desires
Which hopefully it does
Since he isn't willing to wait much longer
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Michael Myers
He never thought creatures like you actually existed
But the moment he saw your strength and darkness, he was immediately drawn in against his better judgment
He visits more often then you think
He's always around, watching
You can feel eyes on you almost 90% of the day, but you never really know where it's coming from
He enjoys watching you swim and just relax
But he especially loves seeing you drag poor souls into the tide with you
There's something so twisted and yet magical about watching you kill
But this fascination is also paired with extreme jealousy
He hates seeing you touch other people
And he almost envies the way they get to be so close to you, even if it means their demise
He hopes to find a way to take you home with him for good one of these times
You told him you loved him, so you'd be happy as long as you're by his side
Right?
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Jason Voorhees
Out of all places to meet the love of your life, this one seemed especially unfortunate for Jason
But his feelings for you were strong enough to overrule his fear
He'll sit by the shore with you, hearing you talk and sing old tunes he's never heard before
He loves listening to your stories about the world underneath the current
But this always leaves him with such a deep feeling of sadness
He wants a life where you both can live together and share those memories
But he knows that's nearly impossible
He starts spending more time by the water side than the camp, finding that irresponsible teens like to be by the beach even more than the forest
You lure them in with your beauty and your words, and Jason finishes the job
He'll let you kill too if you really wish to, but he doesn't like the idea of those types of people being so close to you
He barely gets to touch you, so why should they get what he so desperately wants instead?
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Thomas Hewitt
In this desert like area of Texas, Thomas has to travel quite far to see you
But the one time he accidentally stumbled upon you, he was smitten
And you surprisingly didn't turn him into another victim like all the others
He was kind to you
And now, he brings you food and stops by as often as he possibly can
You've made him little necklaces out of bones and shells
He wears every single one of them
Your bond only gets stronger each time he comes to see you
But Thomas can only take so much
Why can't you be closer?
He knows the family would love you
And he could make you so happy
His bathtub is big enough for you, he's sure of it
He knows that you won't want to leave your own home for his, but he loves you and knows what will be best for you
He's just got to be patient
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Bubba Sawyer
His own family had to go on a search for him after he disappeared for a couple days
But he just couldn't help it
You make him so happy, and the more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to leave your side
He's tried to jump in a few times to be with you, but you always persuade him out of it
He doesn't know how to swim, and you don't want him to end up like everyone else
That's when he decided that the best option would be to create your very own pond in his backyard!
That way, you could be with each other, and he would never have to say goodbye again
He hasn't told you this idea yet, but he's sure you'd be happy with it
This would also keep you from needing to kill anyone else
You're too beautiful to get your hands dirty
And it's unfair that they get to join you in the water when you won't let him do the same
He can make you super happy with his family, he's sure of it
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Brahms Heelshire
He hates this dynamic between you two
He wants you at home with him so you can take care of him, and he can keep you away from everyone else
No one should get to touch you or look at you besides him
He's actually tried to drag you out of the water before, but the prospect of accidentally killing you was enough to make him stop
He never knew he could envy a body of water as much as he does
It gets to hold you, touch you, and be with you at all times
He wants that too, so desperately
Because of you, he's gone from house dweller to nature enthusiast in just a matter of days
Even when you think he's at home, he's stalking around, watching you
He insists it's to keep you safe
In fact, you haven't had to drown anyone in quite a while
And you can thank Brahms for that
The moment he sees a single soul in the area, he drags them off and disposes of them before you even have a chance to see them
He wouldn't dare let you touch another being that isn't him
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Norman Bates
It honestly took him a really long time to believe that you were even real
He didn't think mermaids or sirens actually existed, so seeing you for the first time made him pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some weird dream
He also took a while to trust you since he didn't want to fall victim to your treacherous waters
But once he realized you were genuine, he dove straight in all at once
He visits you whenever he can for however long he can muster
Someone needs to run the motel, but God he wishes he could be with you 24/7
He's "jokingly" brought up the idea of you staying at the motel in a pool he could install for you
He just wants to keep an eye on you at all times
He constantly dreams of finding a way to make you human so you two can truly be together
Until you have two feet like him, it will never be enough
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Billy Loomis
Doesn't tell a single soul about you
Not even Stu
And it's not because he's embarrassed or wants to see other people
He's honestly just scared that others will either think he's insane or try to capture you
Visits you every day and makes sure to pack his swim trunks so he can join you in the water
Constantly admires you and wants to run his hands along your scales
He just thinks you're all around incredible
But he has this hidden level of anger towards the situation
He wants to walk around town with you, show you off
He wants you to join him on his sprees so you can see just how powerful he can be
And he hates the idea of not having eyes on you at all times
He knows you kill anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't want you getting that close to anyone in general
He spends his nights studying ways to get you to live with him
He'll find a way to have you all to himself, even if it ends up being the death of him
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Stu Macher
He actually first met you while you were seducing some poor soul to their death
And Stu was immediately enamored
He comes to see you whenever he can
He sometimes spends the weekend camping out along the shore just so he can spend more time with you
He thinks you're beautiful of course, but he can't help but fantasize what it would be like if you were human like him
You two come from very different worlds, but there's nothing that could keep you away from him
He likes to bring up the idea of mermaids and mythical creatures in casual conversations with people
How they react to it will determine whether they make his hit list
He likes to bring you jewelry and pretty objects from his victims, showing you items that you've never seen before
He talks about how one of these days, he's going to have a house built on the shore so he can be with you
And if you argue against it, he will shut down
The pent up frustration of not getting to sleep next to you every night makes his killings more brutal and his fantasies all the more darker
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Vincent Sinclair
Every time he comes to see you, he brings a new portrait or wax figure of you that he made
You flood his dreams and his mind 24/7
He honestly thinks he's under some sort of spell
He doesn't mind that you aren't human like him
He's always felt very different from everyone else, so it's nice for him to have someone he relates to
But his jealousy constantly gets the better of him
Anytime you tell him of some poor soul you drowned, he can't help but feel his blood boil
Even if it ends in their death, he hates the idea of you flirting or seducing these people
The only one who should be receiving that attention is him
Barely sleeps at night
He has snuck to the shore countless time without your knowledge, just watching you and making sure your stories line up with what he observes
Is overall obsessed even more than you know
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Bo Sinclair
If anyone saw you together, it would be enough to make them blush
The way you two can constantly flirt back and forth without any hesitation is otherworldly
You could have sworn he must have been a creature like you in a past life
He's so touchy when he's with you, not afraid to get his clothes wet in an effort to just be closer to you
He truly makes you feel accepted as you are and with where you live
But little do you know of his darker nature
He stalks the shore and kills off anyone that trespasses before you even have a chance to get to them
He doesn't need you looking at anyone but him
And he's already been renovating an old abandoned pool in Ambrose for you
You're going to finally be living with him like he's always wanted
You don't know this yet, but he's sure you'll be happy with the idea
It will be a great surprise
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