#because then they couldn’t possibly get involved in any way in that side of the plot

[mostly-imagines]

Damian was unwilling to even consider accepting your presence. He’d been sure that you were a passing source of entertainment for his older brother, who couldn’t possibly hold positive regard towards anyone other than himself.

Jason had brought you to the manor with him while he dropped in to discuss some things with the old man. You’d told him you’d be fine to hang out with Damian until he was done, to which he scoffed and wished you luck.

So you approach the couch tentatively and smile despite the lack of attention on you, “Hi Damian.”

He merely side eyes you and says nothing.

Having expected this from him, you continue, “What are you watching?”

“The Discovery channel.” He says shortly.

You frown, furrowing your eyebrows.

He glances at you, unamused. “What?”

“Why are you watching the Discovery channel?” you ask him.

“It’s educational.” He tells you, like it’s obvious.

You nod slowly, “Yes, but…what else do you watch?”

“The Discovery channel has many different series’,” he tells you with discernable disinterest.

You tilt your head at him, “Don’t you watch shows for kids?”

He glowers hearing that, “Why would I do that?”

“…Because you’re a kid.”

He shakes his head, basically waving you off. “I wouldn’t waste my time.”

You’re not really sure why Damian is the way he is just yet. You know he only came to live with Bruce relatively recently and before that lived with his mother somewhere far. Jason’s mentioned in passing that his upbringing was a bit unorthodox and his mother is a sore subject. You don’t know Bruce well but you can take a guess that his parenting priorities don’t necessarily lie with letting kids be kids.

You shake your head, “It’s not a waste of time. Not if you enjoy it.” You pause. “It’s okay for you to be a kid, Damian.”

He looks at you like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

You sit up more, turning to face him completely. “I can’t imagine pushing yourself so hard all the time is good for your brain. Or your body.”

That gets his attention. “…What do you mean?”

You take a deep breath, “I mean a part of normal human development involves fostering happiness through recreation and leisure. Entertainment like that functions as a stress reliever which is necessary for you to operate at your highest capacity. It’s like recharging your body and it’s important to do, especially when you’re young and can burn out quickly.”

He frowns deeply, furrowing his eyebrows, “Oh.”

You nod, thinking. “I can’t imagine your diet is any different than your dads, then.”

His posture straightens, “I eat to make me stronger. That is good for my body.” He says it like it has to be.

Your brow furrows at that as you nod, “Yeah, it is, but do you like it?”

He grimaces, “What does that matter?”

You pull back a bit, blinking at him. “Do you eat snacks, Damian?”

“Snacks are for—” he cuts himself off. “No I do not.”

“What if we watched a movie and made popcorn or something?”

He considers this with an obvious great hesitance, looking you up and down like he’s expecting you to pull out a knife any second.

“You could be wrong,” he says eventually, quiet.

You nod for a moment. “But what if I’m not?”

He eyes the rug on the floor, chin still held up. “What…do you suggest?”

You pucker your lower lip and shake your head, grabbing the remote. “Anything you want,” You flip the screen to the children’s movies, scrolling through the options. “You might like The Rescuers. Or Robin Hood. It’s about someone who steals from the rich and gives the money to the poor.”

You hand him the remote and he slowly moves through the list. You watch him look over the selection, eyes slightly wider than usual.

“What about “Bambi”? It has small animals in the picture.” He points to the little icon on the left of the screen displaying the baby deer and friends.

Your movements stutter. “Oh, uh…I don’t think that’s the movie for you.”

He tilts his head at you, “Why not?”

You take a deep breath and turn your head over your shoulder towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make popcorn, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You smile and nod encouragingly and stand before making your way to the kitchen.

Damian watches you go before thoughtlessly standing himself and trailing slowly after you. By the time he gets to the kitchen door frame you’ve already opened up a packet and are placing it into the microwave. You don’t stop at that, opening up the fridge to pour out a small glass of coke.

The popcorn is nearly done when Jason approaches from the hall, stopping next to Damian and peering into the doorway to see what’s so interesting.

He’s surprised to find that the thing Damian had been staring wide-eyed at was you, making snacks.

He looks again at his little brother, heeding how his gaze was somehow closer to fear than skepticism. But he’d seen that look before, when he’d first come to live at the manor it was the only expression he conveyed for at least two months. That look of shock that he was being treated so kindly, with such thought behind it. Jason hadn’t seen that look in a while, but couldn’t find it in him to be surprised that it was you who brought it back out.

For someone as trained as he is, it takes Damian an embarrassingly long time to register his brother's presence. He tries to play it off as though he’d always known, adjusting his posture to stand taller, chin up. He turns to face Jason, suddenly somber. “She is an adequate choice of a partner.”

Jason’s face contorts, looking him up and down, “…Thanks?”

[sevsgiirl]

— when i get you alone, it’s so simple.

sevika week 2025: alone with me, day 6.

synopsis: sevika has had it out for you since the start. letting everyone know just how much she hated you and couldn’t stand you, but that didn’t seem to be the case once it’s just you two.

word count: 2.4k

tags: bottom!sevika, top!reader, jealousy, oral sex.

note: happy day 6 of sevika week, y’all !! we’re finally back to some good ‘ol fashion smut. honestly this isn’t my absolute favorite because I currently have a raging headache and wrote this while not feeling my best. but I hope you guys like it regardless <3

sevika can’t stand you.

she can’t stand the sight of you, being in the same room as you - your laugh, your snarky remarks about her age, your impulsiveness in missions. all of it.

a lot of her co-workers like to think she’s just bitter or has a personal vendetta against you that she doesn’t want to disclose when really, the older woman just finds you annoying.

ever since she met you she couldn’t tolerate your egotistical behavior. silco told her to cut you some slack simply because you’re younger, then again she’s worked with people of the same age as you. clearly it’s just your personality that’s the problem.

and honestly, you’ve given up trying to understand why sevika holds a lot of animosity towards you.

at first, it perplexed you because as far as you know, you’ve never done anything to agitate the older woman.

when silco hired you, you just did what you were told. you never talked back to your superiors and you’ve always tried to be as approachable as possible. so really, you don’t get it.

and that’s when it started to get annoying, her blatant hatred towards you. how she doesn’t even try to hide it anymore.

she’s always rolling her eyes at your ideas or walking out of the room whenever you showed up. truth be told, it hurt, because although she was never civilized with you, you at least wanted to get along with her since she was silco’s right hand woman.

she was well respected and feared by many, so getting on her good side would mean a lot - but it’s obvious she never had any intention of letting you get to know her.

so you basically accepted that if she was so hell bent on giving you a hard time, is that you were going to be ten time more insufferable than she was.

and good god, did she hate you for it.

𐙚˙⋆.˚

silco’s had enough.

it was obvious to everyone in the undercity, the last drop and the people that you worked with that the two of you clearly hated each other.

at first, silco didn’t really care just as long as you two got your work done. he had no business interfering with whatever petty squabbles his employees were involved in, but if it meant that it got in the way of your performances, then that’s a whole different story.

it started little by little with you and sevika bickering during meetings, to sending reports to silco’s office saying you didn’t want to be grouped together during assignments, and he dismissed all of it up until one of your fights interfered with one of the missions.

forcing him to sit both of you down like he was scolding a pair of toddlers.

“I only ask is that you focus on your jobs. tear each other’s heads off once you’ve clocked out of your shifts but bringing personal matters at work is simply unprofessional,” he reprimanded.

sevika didn’t dare speak a word as you instantly went into defense mode.

“well, the firelights wouldn’t have destroyed one of the cargos if only she stopped being a know-it-all!” you gestured to sevika who only glared at you “I was told to retrieve the payment but she kept meddling,”

“only because I can’t trust you to get the exact amount right, the last time silco asked you to get it we were short of the actual amount that was needed,”

“by one pound! I told silco to deduct it from my paycheck because it didn’t mean that big of a deal!”

“maybe to you it’s not but it’s little things like this that turn into even bigger problems I have to deal with in the end!”

“oh shut up, you just want an excuse to nag at me because you’re old and bitter!”

“what the fuck did you just say, you little-“

“okay, that’s enough,” silco bellowed as his thunderous voice halted your squabbling.

he rubbed his temples and lets out a groan “I expect both of you to put an end to whatever childish rivalry this is, because if not there will be serious consequences.” he warned, eyes narrowed into slits “understood?”

silence stretched across the room as you nodded your head, meanwhile sevika only huffed before rising from her seat and walked out the room.

causing silco to let out an agitated sigh “and I thought no one can get on her nerves more than jinx,”

𐙚˙⋆.˚

sevika had no intention of waving the white flag, her first resort was to just argue with you less and avoid you like the plague to reduce chances of fights from occurring.

if she were being honest, she didn’t even know why you angered her so much. perhaps the others were right when they said it was the difference in age and experience hence why you two couldn’t get along.

but it’s not like you were actively reckless, sure you had your moments but the only time you let yourself slip was during the payment issue, which was the first and only time you made a mistake yet she hung it over your head constantly.

she could put an end to her vendetta if she wanted to, which was something she debated about while she was lost in thought playing cards at the last drop after silco dismissed the two of you from his office.

trying to stay focused but her mind was elsewhere, specifically you.

it didn’t help when she heard the door open and there you were, strolling in as you signaled thieram to serve you a drink.

her eyes never leaving you as the people in her booth started calling her name “hello? sevika are you there?” which she ignored.

and it stayed on you even until some random girl walked up to you and started chatting you up, making her nerves feel like they were on fire because it’s this. it’s fucking moments like this where she realized she couldn’t stand you.

why she couldn’t stand the sight of you smiling, laughing or having a good time.

and most importantly, why she couldn’t stand the sight of you enjoying the company of somebody else.

god, she couldn’t fucking stand it. how it was so easy for you to approach everyone on your first day except her, and how you had a good word for everyone except her.

how even if she wanted to make amends with you she couldn’t because you act so differently with her.

and she wanted not to care, wanted to let it slide, but the thought of wandering hands sliding down your waist as you let this random chick at the bar chat you up angered her in ways she couldn’t even comprehend.

the next thing she knew, she walked over to you and towered over your smaller frame while you looked up and met her infuriated gaze with a look of confusion.

“sevika, what are you-“

“so it’s like this, huh? after silco told us off and gave us a warning, you’d rather slack off?” she said indignantly as your eyes widened.

you scoffed “well, it’s not like I’m the only one standing here, aren’t? from what I can tell you were playing cards just now.”

“at least I’m not chatting random people up and getting shit faced, aren’t I?”

you were confused at the sudden jab she made at the girl you were talking to, who had basically ran off to god knows where after seeing sevika.

you gawked at her, wondering where the hell all of this was coming from “you can’t be serious. silco told us to get along yet here you are picking another fight with me. seriously, what is your problem? are you so miserable at your job you can’t stand the sight of others having a life outside of theirs?”

“has silco’s missions been too much for you that you can’t go out and have a good time anymore? that’s why you’re taking it out on me?” at this point, you knew you were crossing the line, especially with the way sevika’s jaw ticked and her nostrils flared, but you continued.

“it is, isn’t it? don’t have much time to go to the gardens anymore?” you smirked “all pissed off because you haven’t had a good fuck recently?”

that’s what did it. sevika didn’t expect you to stoop that low and it caught her off guard for a second, but once she collected her bearings she narrowed her eyes at you, both of her fists clenched on her sides.

“everyone…” her voice traveled through the room like lightning and took everybody aback “out!”

they didn’t need to be told twice, scrambling to get out of their seats as fast as possible until it was just the two of you left in the bar. no possible witnesses, no nothing.

yup, you were definitely dying.

she took a dangerous step towards you, making you squirm “sevika, I was kidding-“

“you don’t know how to shut up, do you? all you ever do is piss me off. either by slacking off, wearing your skimpy clothing to work that practically shows off your ass cheeks, and then you’ll go ahead and flirt with random chicks at the bar as if you’re begging for attention.” she punctuated every word, venom dripping off of her tone.

“you beg for everyone’s attention but can’t have the decency to show me respect. always fucking ignoring me. what’s your issue, huh?” it was like a dam broke loose and she couldn’t be bothered to act civilized anymore, a culmination of all her frustrations with you finally bubbling beneath the surface “you’re so fucking obnoxious. it’s like silco hired you just to get on my nerves.

her chest rose up and down as she finished with her ranting, but what she didn’t expect once she was done was for you to be smirking up at her - a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“… I get it now,” you said, your tone quiet but sly “all this time you’ve been bitching at me and it’s not because you actually hate me… but because you want my attention?”

sevika was at a loss for words, trying her best to make a counter argument but all of it died down when your hand found purchase at the front of her shirt and you pulled her closer.

her face now inches away from yours as you stared into her eyes, an allure to your actions.

“you’re mad at me because I give everyone else attention except you?” you mused, your lips brushing against hers as a shiver ran down her spine.

“well, you got me where you want me.” you whispered, a challenge “now we’re all alone,”

you didn’t even give her a moment to react before you captured her lips with your own, pulling her against you so her strong legs trapped yours against the bar as she kissed you back with as much fervor, not even bothering to lie through her teeth or call your bluff. because deep down, she knew you were right.

a small whine slipped past your lips when her hands squeezed the sides of your hips, her body warm and hard against yours as you felt her pelvis grind slightly against your clothed crotch.

you pulled away, all shallow breathing and heavy lidded eyes as you stepped down from the bar stool and kneeled down in front of her.

she stumbled a bit and looked down at you, not quite believing what she was seeing when your nimble fingers started trailing up her muscular legs until it reached her belt loop.

but you stopped, throwing her a doubtful stare and she swore she almost melted.

“I’m not doing this unless it’s something you really want,” you said, and she lets out a shuddering breath before she took the initiative herself and started undoing the leather fastened around her waist.

she unzipped her pants and you were quick to replace her hands with your own, seeing the wet patch that stained her tight boxers as your mouth watered at the sight.

“oh baby…” you purred with a cheeky grin “could’ve just told me all this time this is what you wanted all along.”

you didn’t even give her time to respond, as you pulled down both her pants and her underwear to be greeted by the sight of her brown, puffy folds glistening with her arousal.

she tried to maintain her balance by leaning against the bar, arms clutching the edge until her knuckles turned white as you drew a finger down her slit.

“such a slut for me, sev.” you muttered before you took her pussy into your warm mouth.

her hips bucked as the sensation of your tongue dipping into the tight clutch of her needy hole sent her into a spiral, clutching the edge of the bar for stability but it was no use as she started grinding down onto your tongue in desperate little circles.

the ends of your lips curling up at her needy behavior as you slurped her up, the sounds of her wetness dripping down from your nose to your chin, filling the quiet atmosphere of the bar. her breathy whimpers getting higher in pitch as she began riding your face in earnest.

so desperate for her release as you spread her lips apart and began lapping at her dripping cunt.

“that’s my girl…” you slurred, so pussy drunk as sevika continued using your mouth to get off “just needed to be alone with me so I could fuck the attitude out of you, huh?.”

with that, you slipped your tongue to prod at her clenching hole and her movements stuttered as you clutched the meat of her ass in a tight grip, encouraging her to bounce on your face while you hummed in satisfaction as her slick poured into your mouth like honey.

you brought your hand up and rubbed tight circles around her clit and just like that, she fell apart.

the coil in her stomach instantly snapping as she came with her back arching off the counter, letting out the most obscene moans as your licking and sucking never once faltered, and she rode it out until she began to feel overstimulated.

you pulled away, the bottom half of your face coated with her cum and your pupils so dilated you looked almost animalistic - yet when sevika stared down at you, she couldn’t help but to think to herself how she hasn’t seen anything more infuriating but beautiful at the same time.

“well,” you let out a breathy chuckle, a smirk teasing at the corners of your mouth as you licked your lips “good news for silco is we finally got along, didn’t we?”

[fortunapre]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐬...Is Way Too Complicated [2]

SUMMARY y/n finds a solution to her ex coming back into the picture- one that involves her best friend and a fake relationship...

(multiple face claims) (pt 1. here) (fluff, tiny angst if you squint)

2 days later, and neither Y/n nor Oscar had made any progress on acknowledging their feelings. Even the internet and gossip columns knew more about it then each other….

instagram

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y/nusername honey im homeeee

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y/nbff: see you on sunday!

mclarenhq: nice to see you again!

➥︎ oscarpiastri: especially in orange 🤠

➥︎ landonorris: holy your cooked mate

➥︎ oscarpiastri: I have done nothing what are you on about

➥︎ landonorris : YOUR THE ONE BEING FUCKING OBVIOUS *comment deleted*

➥︎ landonorris: @ oscarpiastri do it I can’t take this anymore

➥︎ y/nusername: @ landonorris onto something or on something???

alexandrasaintmleux: gorg as always

Imessages- Oscar's POV

A walk around the paddock in good ol’ Austin Texas on Qualifying day was enough to make any sane person feel dizzy.

The heat! Oh god, the heat was terrible on the Saturday of qualifying. y/n felt like the sun was somehow targeting her directly. Her skin was hot to the touch and her hairline was sweaty.

The only thing rivaling the southern sun was the people. Imagine standing in 100F degree weather and then add in hundreds of thousands of people.

The American flag was everywhere, flying above, on posters, or plastered to sweaty skin and paired with the smallest shorts possible.

This race was definitely one of the most stress inducing for any guest.

Y/n wasn’t just any guest though. No, she had a past with this track. This town. It was something she swore she’d never return to after what happened. However, this time is different and she is a changed woman.

After all, she has Oscar.

imessges- Y/Ns POV

When y/n tapped on Oscar’s location it opened up to the Mclaren hospitality. Thank god she knew where that was.

After getting through crowds of people and the security, she finally reached the main entry. There, she saw Oscar on his phone, at the other side of the room. He was definitely a sight for sore eyes: he was wearing his racing suit tied around his waist (y/n’s favorite race look), and his messy hair was tucked into an orange cap with his number. Y/n was definitely staring, but she couldn’t pull her eyes from his side profile and how the sun was shining right on him from the window. Thankfully, he never looked up from his phone and caught y/n ogling him.

Then, before walking over to him, something in the corner of her eye caught her attention: standing a few feet away from Oscar, was y/n’s latest heartbreak.

What the hell is he doing at McLaren?

Her ex had a pair of Mclaren garage headphones on, and was animatedly talking with an engineer. When he turned to the side to face the screens, she caught sight of a VIP Guest Access Pass hanging from his neck.

Y/n immediately backed out of the room, before her ex could see her. She walked fast, and kept going straight ahead, too afraid to look back.

Eventually y/n pushed open a nearby door to a- thankfully- empty meeting room.

She exhaled a relieved breath and locked the door behind her. She slid her back down the door and cringed at the memory of him resurfacing.

She was so overwhelmed with the sight of her ex because the wound was still fresh- she hadn’t actually seen him in person since he dumped her over the phone like an asshole. Instead of sadness or anxiety, y/n felt mostly angry.

Angry at her ex and the memories... but mostly angry at how she was reacting. This whole coming-back-to-F1 thing was supposed to help her, not make her panic.

She sat by the door for a few more seconds and counted her breaths until she was ready to go out again. She tried to let her mind clear and let in some more calming thoughts. The thought about her love of F1, her family, and how she has other people that care about her. Like Oscar...

Oscar!

Y/n suddenly remembered that she just left him back there and he was probably waiting for her.

After counting to about 30-something, to quickly regain confidence, she stood up, smoothed her jean skirt, and opened the door.

“Y/n!” In front of her was not an empty hallway but her closest friend who she was about to go find. “I, uh, I saw run out and go in here,” Oscar said while tilting his head to look behind her into the empty room, probably wondering why she was in there.

Oscar looked back and his eyes settled on y/n again. He blatantly gave her a once-over, looking her up and down-he was both making sure she was ok and partially checking her out. She was wearing cowboy boots, a short jean skirt that showed off her legs, and most importantly- a McLaren shirt.

He cleared his throat, remembering where they were, and spoke again. “Are you ok?” Oscar's face changed into one of concern where he squinted his eyes a bit. Y/n almost smiled at how cute it was.

Y/n felt heat go to her cheeks at the intrusive thought.

She really didn't want to talk about everything right now, so she decided to just play it off. “Yeah, of course I’m ok, it’s qualifying and you, my friend is about to get pole!” She put her arm through his and walked together away from the empty room.

She was trying to seem as unfazed as possible and change the subject, but Oscar could see through her mask.

“Y/n…” Oscar gave her a pointed look and stopped them again in the middle of the hallway. His eye contact almost made it seem like he was looking through her- like he could see everything she was thinking. “Come on, give me more credit than that," he spoke softly.

“Really, Osc. I’m good, I just needed to take a break from the billions of naked people.” Y/n answered with a gentle smile and joking laugh, pushing down a random thought about how Oscar's eyes were so easy to drown in.

Oscar took his hand off of y/n and grimaced. “Ok first of all, that’s a horrible image to put in my mind, second of all, there are a few topless people but no one's naked. Then…” He became suddenly distracted by something behind her.

A man he's seen walking around Mclaren was weirdly staring at them, or more specifically at y/n.

“Third of all?” y/n continued for him, breaking his trance. Oscar shook his head like he was erasing a thought.

“Third of all….” Oscar began again and smiled big. “You are shit at lying.”

“Ughh.” Y/n put her head down in defeat. She moved closer to Oscar and rested her head on his chest.

Oscar smiled at her and wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug. However, while her head was in his chest, Oscar took a second glance at the man down the hall. He was gone now, no longer standing where he once was, but, to Oscar, something seemed... off about him.

“Can we go to your driver’s room and talk?” y/n suggested, tilting her head up to face him. Oscar looked down at her, nodded and then released her so they could walk back.

imessages- Y/N's POV

A few minutes later, Oscar pulled up in his sleek McLaren. From his driver seat, he saw Y/N wating for him at the door. She was standing with her arms wrapped around her waist, hugging herself. Thoughts of how he wished he could hold her and keep her warm flew to the front of Oscar's mind. He thought about how cuddly she looked in her sweats and hoodie.

Oscar looked away and furrowed his eyebrows at the realization of where his mind had just wandered to.

He his cleared throat into the silence of his car and tried to clear his mind of the now burning unfriendly thoughts about cuddling Y/n.

When looked back through his car window, he found y/n to be walking toward his car, having spotted him.

She quietly situated herself in the low car and waited for Oscar to start driving. He knew that she was overwhelmed (well technically she told him directly) but he could see it in her actions as well. Her ex showing up was really bothering her, and this, in turn, was bothering Oscar.

How could anyone hurt her willingly? And worse, how could any one hurt her and expect to be accepted again?

‘She deserves more. She deserves so so much more’ Oscar thought to himself.

Silently, Oscar drove Y/N to the icecream shop down the road. Once they reached they’re destination, Y/N smiled and unbuckled her seatbelt.

Y/n wasn’t in the mood to talk, but she hoped that Oscar knew just how much she appreciated him. He was always there for her. Anywhere. For everything and anything- he was there.

Then, suddenly, breaking both Oscar and Y/n’s thought process and they got out, was someone yelling from down the street.

“Y/n! Is that you?” Now walking towards them, was none other than y/n’s ex- the guy one from the VIP Mclaren area earlier.

He just couldn’t get a hint and Y/n was so tired of trying to push him back away. She rolled her eyes and hugged herself again. “You left me so easily months ago, why can’t you fuck off again!” Y/n yelled with newfound anger at seeing him again.

Any sane person would take a hint at a girl like y/n yelling at them, but this guy was just not leaving. “Y/n please i just want to talk! I know your mad…” He got closer and closer to them, walking up to Y/n.

“No! There’s nothing to talk about! You broke up with me and i’m finally accepting it. Please let me be.”

“But how can you-“ Y/n’s ex tried to speak but Oscar cut him off this time.

“How can she? Mate, I heard about what you did and even I want you to leave.” Oscar stood next to Y/n, and folded his arms.

To any outsider, Oscar was definitely “puffing his chest” and being protective but Y/n was of course oblivious to this.

“What? Dude just leave this is between me and her” The ex tried to speak again.

“i don’t think so, man. She said fuck off.” Oscar turned to Y/n and asked her. “You said fuck off, right?”

Y/n didn’t know if he actually wanted her to reply or not so she just nodded and watched them argue.

“See.” Oscar pointed at her nod. “FUCK OFF!”

Then, suddenly, in a span of maybe 5 seconds, flashing cameras blinded the trio’s vision.

“Shit!” “What the-“

Y/n covered her eyes with a hand, both blocking the flash and her identity. Actually, it was probably too late anyways, since the cameras definitely caught Oscar yelling at her ex.

That photo will definitely be on the front of the next drama magazine.

Oscar carefully pushed her into the passenger side of the car and got in as well, trying to get away.

Wherever her ex ran off to when the paparazzi showed up, the cameras didn’t seem to care. All -6?- cameras we’re still surrounding the Mclaren, trying to get photos.

Oscar shut his eyes tight and leaned his head back on the headrest, sick of the stress of paparazzi. Next to him, however, instead of stress, y/n was thinking:

Earlier, while she was waiting for Oscar to pick her up, Y/n was thinking about any possible solution to get her ex and the media off of her back. He was obsessive and he wasn’t leaving without force.

One idea was if she simply moved on faster and just started dating someone.

If she was taken, her ex couldn’t bother her, right? Because then she’d be “off limits” and her ex would have to give up. If she had a boyfriend, the media would also probably give up since the drama would be over. Win-Win.

Now, as the paparazzi moved to the front of the car to get a better picture of the duo, Y/n had the craziest idea.

“Oscar!” Y/n didn’t mean to yell but her mind was going a hundred miles an hour and she didn’t want to miss this chance.

Oscar’s eyes shot open and he looked around like something was wrong. “WHAT?! what? what’s wrong- why are you yelling!”

“nothing, just please listen really fast.” y/n was definitely going to regret this.

“Now?!”

“YES!” Y/n fully turned towards him and spoke fast.

“I had an idea of how to get my ex and the media to stop bothering me, and it includes just getting into a new relationship-“ she shook her head realizing she didn’t need to explain everything

She looked out the front window and saw that the paparazzi were starting to retreat.

“So! I was like “Damn! i’d need to get a boyfriend fast!” right? but who better to be my boyfriend than someone i already know! Then I wouldn’t have to go through talking stages and all that.”

Oscar looked so incredibly confused.

He was wondering why she was telling him this now and why his heart practically broke when she mentioned getting into a relationship.

Y/n moved closer to Oscar. From the corner of her eye, she saw the cameraman become interested again and bring up their cameras. At this, she moved so close to him it was almost inappropriate.

“Oscar I have a favor to ask you.” Y/n was extremely nervous. Nervous that he’d reject her amd also at their proximity.

Oscar heart started beating way to fast.

“Would you be in a PR relationship with me for a bit? It would only be short and we don’t need to go on dates or anything crazy. ANYWAYS… i’m mentioning this now, because…”

Oscar’s eyes blew wide at her question and he looked into her eyes, back to the paparazzi, and settled back on her.

Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were flushed and she looked angelic this close. In this moment, Oscar realized, he was ready to throw away any best-friendship for a small taste of her lips that were basically hovering over his.

What was she doing. What was she doing to him..

He felt her breath on his lips and something like a buzz swirled in his stomach. If only she-

“…I need you to kiss me.” Y/n blurted.

Intagram, Twitter, and Most Social Medias:

DramaNewsRoom: F1 Mclaren Racer Oscar Piastri confiirms specualted relationship in shocking paprazzi photos with his supposed "best friend" Y/n L/n.

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EDITED VERSION!!! If you read the draft, hopefully you like the changes.

To Be continued....

Do We like? Part 3?

TagList (comment to be added)

@ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @anayaverse @iamahallucinationnn @screamingwines @awenthealchemist @formulaal @obxstiles @norrisainz33 @spooky-librarian-ghost @littlegrapejuice @iloveotters11 @chunkpiboli @marauders-wife @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @verstxppen33 @someinsanefangirl

@silverxxs-world @zupercoolgirl @forza-charles @il0vereadingstuff

[arienotari]

Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 

I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 

[defututus]

Even When I'm Not With You

Through Snow & Sleet

masterlist

modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!reader, college AU, strangers to friends to lovers

Summary: You meet someone in one of your college classes and it's love at first sight.

content warnings: swearing, it's a very modern AU

word count: 5.6k

author's note: this is technically my first fanfic. I began writing it in April of 2024 and only got around to posting it now. This is the backbone of the AU I've maintained in my head since I fell in love with Eddie. It takes place at the university I went to, involves all my friends, and some personal experiences. Once again, thank you to my two best friends @corroded-hellfire and @munson-blurbs for encouraging me to write and helping me out when I got stuck. Hopefully you guys like it because I have more to share in the future! ❤️

The cold February air was biting at your face as you hurried across campus, slow enough to avoid the ice that no doubt sat in the dark waiting for one careless student to step on it and fall flat on their ass. The walkways were lit just enough to allow you to see where you were going but not enough to help you spot any icy spots so this was as fast as you were willing to move. What should have been a relatively easy day turned into a nightmare the moment you woke up. It had snowed overnight and the university grounds crew had neglected to salt the sidewalks once again so you nearly fell twice just trying to get from your dorm building to the dining hall next door. Once you had a decent breakfast you made your way to work and learned that there was a bad cold spreading among the employees and had claimed three of your coworkers that you expected to work with today, thus leaving you with only your team lead to help you in your department. A good chunk of your morning was spent unloading consoles set to be released soon and left you exhausted. There were a fair share of unhappy customers that you had to deal with, and it only got worse when you finally got to go on your lunch and realized you left your wallet in your room so you had to eat the day-old bagels left in the break room. Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

Your university was located in the middle of a metropolitan area so you were fully aware that the rush hour traffic was bad. To avoid the inevitable panic of wondering if you could be held up in traffic and be late to class, you built your class schedule around your shifts to leave an hour and a half for you to get home when the longest it could possibly take is twenty minutes with heavy traffic. Tonight’s class, Physical Anthropology, was on the other side of campus so you also had to factor in the time it would take to walk there. Still, you would be left ample time to get home, change out of your work clothes, and even have dinner without the need to rush. You were thankful that this was the last week before spring break so at least you could relax when you weren’t working.

Your careful planning had worked perfectly up until today because you couldn’t possibly account for the accident on the highway. Everyone was trying to get home before the storm came back to make the streets undriveable, but one driver was in such a rush that they lost control and caused a small pile-up. The drivers were all alright, thankfully, but this left you sitting in traffic for over an hour and your anxiety slowly creeping up. You were close to emailing your professor to tell them you weren’t going to make it even though the university was right in front of you. By 6:15pm, you were finally moving and rushed across campus. You weren’t even going to change out of your uniform and decided to just keep on the sweater you wore under your coat. All you had to do was grab your bag right by your door and make the trek across campus. Unfortunately once you grabbed everything you needed, you were now left with 15 minutes to make the 11-minute uphill trek to your classroom, assuming there were no obstacles in your way. 

You made it inside the building and into your classroom with two minutes to spare, but in your mind you were basically late to class. You preferred to get there ten minutes early so you could choose a decent seat and get yourself situated, but by the time you were inside all the good spots were taken and the professor was already setting up for her lesson. The only seats left were in the back so you made your way over and put your stuff down at the first open spot you see. As you begin unpacking your things, the professor turns some of the lights off and puts on a video on osteology that you had been focusing on for the last two weeks. 

You were never a very social person in school, always preferring to keep to yourself and only talk when other people initiate a conversation. This class was only on your schedule because it fulfilled a requirement, nothing else. Your only friends here were within your small program and none of them were in this class with you. You didn’t know anyone's names or faces, especially not the person you just sat next to. His only acknowledgement of you was in the form of scooting a little bit so he wasn’t taking up all the space at the table you were now sharing. He was focused on whatever he was frantically writing down in his notebook, a curtain of curly brown hair concealing his face from you. However, you were able to see what he was writing in. It was a beaten up spiral notebook full of carefully organized notes with color coded tabs. There were flowcharts, sketches of what looked like maps, and character information. He also had some pages printed out that were tucked between the pages. None of those things really stuck out to you, instead your eyes were drawn to a hastily drawn creature in the corner of the left page. It was a scaled, humanoid figure with wings and horns. You could almost mistake it for a gargoyle if it weren’t for its stature and flames surrounding it. It’s something you’d recognize almost anywhere.

You whisper to the person next to you, “That pit fiend looks really good.” His pen stops mid-sentence and his head shoots up to look at you. A woodsy smell mixed with a hint of tobacco and mint wafted towards you with his movements. It was almost intoxicating.The first thing you looked at were his eyes. They were wide open with shock and they were the richest, most beautiful shade of brown you had seen in your entire life. His lips were full, a little chapped either from biting and wetting them or the cold weather sucking all the moisture out of everything. He had light freckled across his nose and a small, faded scar on his forehead. The rest of his hair that wasn’t previously obscuring his face was tied back into a bun. You both sat there in silence for a moment as he struggled to put words together. He’s wearing chunky silver rings and a worn Slipknot hoodie. You could even see the edges of a tattoo peeking out from under the collar and another of a goat skull on his left hand. 

“Oh, thanks. Um…” He looked down at the page for a second, ringed hands fidgeting with the pen he was holding before pointing towards the large flow chart, “It’s for this week’s campaign. I didn’t have a lot of time this week to plan so I’m trying to get it all done right before we meet up tonight. My friend, Jeff, his character looted these cultists…” He glances up to check and see if you’re listening and smiles when he realizes you’re actively paying attention, leaning in to get a better look at the pages. He continues with a little more confidence in his voice.

“So his character, this Triton named Kaglas, found a really old book on one of the cultists. Turns out this book was a cursed tome belonging to a demon prince and well, he cut his finger trying to pry the book open because it was being held shut with these really sharp teeth. The blood from his finger dripped onto the book and opened a portal so a prince of hell kidnapped him and now they’ll have to get past this guy to gain access to the prison… I’m just trying to finish up the encounter tables for the rest of the prison because I always leave those until the last minute.” Before he can delve further into the story, the lights come back on and papers are being handed out to each row of tables by the professor. “The goal of this lab is to identify the species of hominid based on everything you’ve learned so far. I’m not going to pull anything funny by giving you two of the same species so don’t worry about that. Each skull is numbered. Work with the other person at your table to identify the species, write the number down, and explain your reasoning. Please be careful with these.”

The papers make their way back to your way and you hand one to your new lab partner. He accepts it, mouthing ‘thank you’  and quickly scrawls Eddie on the top of the page. Good, you tell yourself. You know his name now, progress. There’s some shuffling in the back of the room as the professor goes off on some tangent. Both yours and Eddie’s attention is drawn back to the topic of his campaign. 

You began speaking to him in hushed tones, “Your friend doesn’t seem very bright. Who in their right mind would try opening a book bound shut with fucking teeth? And they got it from cultists? Are they trying to get their characters killed or are they just dumb?” Eddie stifles his laughter and shakes his head. You’re sure the professor is saying something as she moves to the back of the room but your focus is only on the man next to you. His laugh is more beautiful than any song you’ve heard before. He begins to rock his stool back and forth as he continues to speak.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. We’ve been playing together for years and I think they’re getting more and more reckless as time goes on. At this point they can recognize when I’ve set up a trap and they take it every time just for the hell of it…”  so, do you play?” 

There’s some shuffling going on in the cabinets in the back of the room as the professor begins pulling out skulls and placing one on each table. Eddie takes the skull and begins looking it over. You hear a quiet, “These are really cool.” You glance over at it and note the size of the skull overall and the lack of a brow ridge, quickly jotting those down before moving your paper closer to Eddie so he can write them down as well.

“I just started recently, it’s me and a few friends. We just saved this sweet little dwarf bookseller named Barnes when these half-elves stole his book cart with him inside it.” You watch Eddie examine the skull, running his fingers along the area where the sagittal crest should be. His rings catch the warm light of the old overhanging lights of the classroom. There was black ink on his hands, or was that oil? You couldn’t tell. His fingers were calloused and you could only guess he was also a musician. 

“Barnes, the bookseller, huh? What’s his last name, Noble?” The only response he gets is an eye roll before putting the skull down. “By the way, I think it’s a homo erectus. There’s no crest and its teeth are smaller.” You nod and Eddie hands the skull over for you to examine. You open its mouth to get a better look at the teeth and nod to him, writing ‘homo erectus’ on the paper. The skull remained in your hands and you began inspecting it out of curiosity. 

You bring the skull up to eye level and respond to Eddie with a small smirk on your face, “As a matter of fact, it is. Y’know, it’s actually a family business. His father started it and he has a bunch of brothers with the same name. They all have their own book carts in different cities. Honestly, I think they’re gonna be real successful in the future.” The story makes you laugh. The book cart wasn’t meant to be anything more than a place for your crew to gain information on the area but your insistence on “getting to know the locals” to annoy your DM, Emma, led to them creating a character that you felt attached to right away.

He rests his head in his hand and gives you a look that you can’t quite read. He has this smile on his face and this soft look in his eyes that you’ve only ever seen in romance movies when the main characters are starting to fall for each other. It wasn’t something you had the chance to experience yourself, always too nervous to ask people out yourself. Dating apps were totally out of the question because you had only heard horror stories from your friends who had tried it. You open your mouth to continue telling the story and maybe ask Eddie about his own campaigns when your professor pipes up from the front of the classroom.

“Guys, just as a reminder. These skulls are REAL and are ON LOAN TO THE UNIVERSITY and they are VERY EXPENSIVE. Please be careful with them.”

If you were being honest, you should have realized this sooner. It didn’t feel like plastic at all and had small indentations and ridges on it. This was a person. The realization nearly has you dropping the skull that once held someone's brain but thankfully, you were holding it right above the table so there was no chance of it being damaged. A laugh rang out from the seat next to you which took your attention away from what you held in your hands. He’s smiling at you. A big, toothy, beautiful smile and you wish you could look at that smile all day long. He hasn’t been in your life very long, maybe 5 minutes in total, but you were infatuated with him. Once he manages to calm himself down, Eddie slowly reaches out and takes the skull out of your hands.

“Let me take that from you. We can’t have you hurting this guy, can we?” Once the skull was out of your hands, you hang your head low in embarrassment. You feel your face growing warm and pull at the loose strings of your sweater sleeve. You bought it when you first started attending the university and it had been through the wash more times than you could and somehow created a hole in one of the sleeves. The hole was just low enough so you would stick your thumb in it and pick at it, like you were doing right now. Eddie lowers his head a bit to get a better look at you and asks, “So I guess you never realized these were real.”

You reply, face still feeling slightly flushed, “I never really thought about it, but it feels weird… I mean, that was a person,” you reply, pointing to it with your pen as you begin noting the state of its teeth and the sutures on the top of the head, “this guy had hobbies, he had a family, he lived a full life!”

Eddie interjects, turning the skull around to the back to reveal a massive crack in the middle of it. You cringe at the sight of it with Eddie bluntly replying, “I don’t think this guy had a full life. Looks to be cut pretty short to me. This is probably from an axe or some other tool.”

The rest of the class period was spent finishing the lab and learning more about each other. The two of you  talked about majoring in history and your love for classical antiquity while he told you about his band and working as a mechanic with his uncle. You also learned that your music tastes were pretty similar, you had a love for rock and metal and even complimented his hoodie (“I’m gonna be completely honest, you do not look like a Slipknot fan.” “Wow, rude.”). It felt as if you had known Eddie your entire life by the time class was drawing to a close. You two were so immersed in your conversation that you didn’t even realize you were one of the last people in the classroom. Eddie unlocked his phone to check the time,  allowing you a quick glance at his lock screen with a red guitar on it. Your musician hunch was right. He shoots up from his stool, hissing “Shit shit shit” and begins shoving his stuff into his backpack. You look at him bewildered and he says, “I’m sorry, I need to go. Our session is supposed to start in five minutes and I need to be on the other side of campus right now!” Once his bag was hastily packed and he was pulling his jacket on, Eddie looks at you one last time and gives you a sheepish smile. “I’ll see you next week, right? No, two weeks. I’ll see you in two weeks. It was great to meet you!” You don’t even get the chance to properly say goodbye before he leaves the classroom in a blur of black leather and denim. All you hear is the sounds of heavy boots running through the hallway and out the nearest side door.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The walk from Eddie’s class to the student center Tuesday night was usually a leisurely one. He always made sure he got out the moment class ended so he would be able to fetch the keys for the multi-purpose room down in the basement and unlock it before everyone else arrived. Eddie always preferred to have everything set up so it was less likely someone could sneak a peek at his notes. He learned his lesson after he arrived a few minutes late and Grant got a peek at his screen and saw their Arakocra guide that was helping them navigate enemy territory was actually a spy for the local warlord. Eddie was a stickler for punctuality (ironic considering how he was always absent in high school) and would rag on anyone that was even five minutes late. Hellfire was meant to start at 8pm sharp and Eddie was rounding the corner in the basement, keys in hand, by 8:07.

By the time he has the key and rounds the corner to their room, he sees everyone standing outside and their heads all turn at once. He honestly found it kind of disturbing. 

“Well, well, well. Look who finally arrived,” Gareth said with his arms crossed, “we’re glad to see you could make it.” Eddie doesn’t bother trying to justify his tardiness to him and pushes through to unlock the door and set his stuff down at the end of the table. 

Everyone agreed that the drama room back in Hawkins High was definitely more comfortable than their current room and was more aesthetically pleasing. Eddie thrived when he was sitting on that throne. He would have taken it home with him if he could. However, there were some cons to that location that were rarely brought up. They had to lug extra chairs into that room every week and always had to keep their voices down. Sometimes they’d arrive and find out the space was being used for something else that week and they had to cancel the meeting. It was also located in the one part of the school that lacked air conditioning so it became unbearable once the weather started to warm up. Also, the wifi was horrible.

Eddie considered this room to be an upgrade. It wasn’t as nice as the drama room with its white painted brick walls with absolutely nothing on them and the uncomfortable chairs, but he always knew this space would be open since he reserved it for them every Tuesday night. He also appreciated the monitor hanging in front of the tables so he could display the maps and character art he did himself. Yes, they did trade in a very hot room in Hawkins for a very cold one in a basement, but everyone thought it was worth it. 

Everyone began to filter into the room and take their respective seats at the long table. There was only one seat open since one of their former players, Ronnie, had transferred to another school at the end of the fall semester so her seat was being used by Jeff. Eddie is working quickly to pull up the necessary resources and load up the map they were using last week with twisting pathways and lakes of lava. He’s filtering out all the chatter around him in order to get everything set up as quickly as possible. Jeff sits down next to him with a box of pastries from the local Dunkin Donuts. They could usually get them for free in the evening since they were about to be thrown out and Jeff was friends with one of the cashiers. 

“So… what happened to you?” 

Jeff’s question is only heard by Eddie and Doug, Hellfire’s newest member. The rest of the club were busy getting their own materials out and digging dice out of their bags. Eddie could vaguely hear Gareth complaining about losing his own set and having to use one of the sets Eddie brought because ‘Munson always has the weirdest dice, I don’t want to spend tonight staring at dice with a bunch of tiny baby heads in them’. Without looking up from his laptop, Eddie simply replies, “I had a lab and lost track of time, that’s all.”

Jeff doesn’t believe any of this. He and Eddie had been friends since they were both gangly teenagers who got detention for trying to skip gym class. Jeff knew when Eddie was lying - Eddie would always bite at his lip when he wasn’t telling the truth. It wasn’t just a lab. Something must have happened.

Jeff begins to probe Eddie with questions. He knew the only way he’d get Eddie to confess to whatever was going on was by guessing until he got a reaction out of him.

 “A lab, interesting… So you weren’t able to finish it in time and that made you late?” Eddie says nothing. 

“Did you drop something and get in trouble?” Someone else almost did, but not him. No reaction. 

“Did you eat something and get in trouble?” Eddie reaches over to the box of pastries and grabs a boston creme donut.

“Did you meet someone? You found your soulmate?” Eddie pauses as he’s sitting back down in his chair. Bingo. Jeff is shocked. Throughout all the years he had known Eddie, the man was never known to believe in love. There was a girl he met when he was 18 but that never worked out so Eddie assumed he’d live the life of a bachelor. He grew up with parents who hated each other and always seemed to be fighting so he never knew what a healthy relationship looked like. Whenever someone asked about his love life he would brush them off and say it just wasn’t for him. He said it so much that everyone couldn’t help but believe him. 

“Oh my god, Eddie Munson is in love.” Jeff says this slowly with a shit-eating grin on his face. He also said this loud enough that everyone else in the room could hear him so all the conversations being held ended at once in favor of learning about this mystery person in Eddie’s life.

“You’re WHAT?” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of that.”

“What are they like? What’s their name?”

The group questioning turned into an interrogation that yielded no results. Everyone only stopped once Eddie had finally located the music he needed and drowned their questions out with the sounds of a haunting violin, creaking, and muffled screams.

“Ok, so where were we? Uh, Tayr,” Eddie looks up at Jeff and points his pen at him, “you’re still imprisoned deep underground. You had 7 hit points when we last left off and you said you were planning to break both your ankles to get out of your shackles so I’m holding you to that.” Eddie then turns to Grant and Gareth who are looking annoyed that their friend is ignoring them, but he persists. He has a campaign to run. “Hylbaez, I believe you and Ariver were going to attempt horse stacking to get up to that open window. I don’t know how the two of you plan on doing that without your horses and how you’re gonna reach the 7th floor even if you had your horses with you. You’ve had a week to figure that out.” He looks over his notes one last time before looking up at the group. Nobody appears to be ready to play. No pencils in hand, only a few papers out. Hellfire won’t start until they get what they want. Eddie was really hoping they’d all drop the group questioning but that doesn’t seem like it’s happening anytime soon. With a huff, Eddie rubs his face and gives them all a look of resignation. “Okay, fine. You want to know? There was a girl that sat next to me. She complimented some character art that I’ve been working on and we talked about D&D for a while. I’m gonna try to get her number after spring break. THAT’S IT.”

It’s almost like everyone’s ears perked up when they heard him mention Dungeons & Dragons. Doug puts a hand up as if he’s in class and asks the question that everyone is thinking. “Are you going to invite her to join Hellfire?” It’s a question that Eddie had been asking himself on the hurried walk from class to the student center. Sure, the campaign they were playing had already begun but he could find a way to write you in. He knew he was a good storyteller so it would be a great way to impress you. Sure, he’s no Matthew Mercer or Brennan Lee Mulligan, but he never struggled to keep everyone’s attention and he’s proud of the stories he created. 

“I’ll think about it.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

It had begun raining by the time their session was concluded (the student center was closing) and the shuttles weren’t running tonight so Eddie had to make the mile trek on foot. He didn’t even care that the elevator was broken again. He’ll, he wouldn’t care if it was broken for the rest of the year because he’s pretty sure he found the love of his life today and nothing could dampen his mood. He rushed up the four flights of stairs and fumbled with his keys before coming inside and slamming the front door shut behind him. His backpack was thrown onto the floor with a wet fwump and his bomber jacket followed close behind as he hastily shucked it off him.

Eddie had a routine he usually followed after each Hellfire Club meeting. He would always change into his pajamas, heat up the food he had brought back from the dining halls and make that his dinner, and retreat into his room where he’d go over what happened during their session and tweak his plans for their next meeting if necessary. He did this every week for the past three years he’s been DMing at this school and the only time he ever broke this routine was during finals his freshman year where he was convinced he’d fail if he didn’t dedicate all his time to actually studying. This was the second time he would ever break that routine. Instead of making himself comfortable, he stormed down through their small living space and walked past his own room to barge into the other bedroom.

This was the second year that Steve roomed with Eddie and the first year that they got their own rooms. Since they were so used to sharing a room together, it was second nature for Eddie to rush straight to Steve when he had to tell him something. Thankfully for him, Steve never locked his door so Eddie was able to rush in unannounced and blurted out, “You will NOT believe what happened today!”

Steve was sitting at his desk, still dressed in his red school scrubs from his clinicals earlier in the day with his nose buried in his textbooks. His hair was tied back in a small ponytail, wearing his glasses, and headphones over his ears. When Eddie forced his way into the room, Steve nearly jumped out of his seat and ripped his headphones off his head and was glaring daggers at the other man.

“Do you ever learn to knock?” Eddie ignores the comment from Steve and goes to the other side of the small bedroom to sit down on Steve’s bed, still wearing his damp clothes and definitely tracking mud across the apartment. Steve is only angry for a moment until he sees the giant smile on his friends face. Eddie wasn’t exactly a grumpy person, but Steve hadn’t seen him smiling like that in a long time, probably not since Eddie got Metallica tickets from his Uncle Wayne as a graduation present. He was smiling so much that Steve was sure his face actually hurt. Eddie was beaming just like he was all those years ago.

Eddie’s leg began shaking from excitement as he began speaking, “I think I met my soulmate today. I was in my anthropology class and she sat down next to me and she’s perfect. I mean, first of all, she’s beautiful. She plays Dungeons and Dragons and we like the same music and she’s so fucking funny.” The metalhead then gets up from Steve’s bed and takes the few steps it takes to stand right in front of him. He’s wildly waving his hands around as he recalls everything that you two talked about during that lab. Steve swore Eddie didn’t stop to breathe even once during this entire recollection. As the story starts to wind down, Eddie removed his hair tie from his hair and ran his fingers through his dark locks. He sighs and says, “Honestly man, I didn’t think after Paige that I’d find anyone who I really connected with but she’s different. I don’t feel like I need to hold back when I’m talking to her.” Eddie finally stops talking and takes a breath before moving back to Steve’s bed and flopping down to lay on his sheets, wet hair and all. 

Steve fully turns around to face Eddie with an impressed look on his face as he closes his books, asking the other, “I’m happy for you, man. So what’s her name? Did you get her number?” Eddie hears this and his eyes widen, opting to look up at the ceiling rather than Steve. He realizes his horrible, horrible mistake and is kicking himself for hurrying off rather than taking an extra minute to get your name and contact information. His silence prompts Steve to scoot closer in his chair as his tone turns more serious. “Eddie, did you get her number?” Silence. “Her instagram?” Silence. “Snapchat??” Eddie purses his lips, too ashamed to say anything. “Munson, did you get ANYTHING from her??”

Eddie groans and sits up now, rubbing his face and tries to defend himself. “Listen. I was going to be late to Hellfire and I didn’t want to listen to anyone complaining about being late so I just told her I’d see her after spring break. I wasn’t thinking straight! I swear I’ll get her number the moment I see her in two weeks.”

It’s now Steve’s turn to groan and he shakes his head, getting up from his chair and moving to sit next to Eddie and begins to try to reassure his friend, telling him, “Ok, here’s what we’re gonna do. There’s like a missing connections instagram page for the school. You just need to message them and tell them you want to find her and get her contact information. Maybe she’ll see it.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

You spent the rest of the week hopelessly searching for Eddie in the massive crowds of students. There were a couple instances of spotting a head of curly brown hair only to be disappointed when you realize it’s not him. There’s about 40,000 students in this school so you wonder why you figured you could just find him casually walking around campus. Your roommate, Elena, suggested looking at your school portal page to see if you can find him on your class page but your professor didn’t enable the ‘Students’ section, only opting for pages that were vital in completing coursework. One of your friends spent two hours scouring Instagram and Facebook convinced that they could find Eddie but came up empty handed. You told everyone you knew what he looked like and what his name was, but he wasn’t in anyone’s classes or in anyone’s dorms. It was like he just vanished into thin air. Elena reassured you that you’d see him in two weeks so all you had to do was wait.

Your search was paused during spring break and put on an indefinite hold when things went downhill. People all over the world were getting sick and you watched in horror as the virus slowly creeped closer to your home state. Then into your county. Spring break was extended for an extra week as the school administration worked to find a solution to keep the staff and student body safe. Schools around the country were shuttering their campuses while yours promised in-person classes would resume shortly but they soon changed their mind. You received an email by week three stating the remainder of the semester would be spent online and you needed to pack up your dorm room. The administration was unable to confirm if you’d be returning to campus in the fall. At this point, both you and Eddie came to the conclusion that you’d never see the other person again and it would take a miracle for you two to reunite.

————————————————————————

I’m not sorry

[biancasaidstfu]

✨THEORY TIME - DEUXMOI IS WORKING WITH LUKE AND NICOLA ✨

This is a newly formulated theory so bear with me and it's a long one.

We’ve all been under the assumption that DM is a bitch and actively working against Nicola and Luke this whole time, right?

What if we’ve been wrong?

DM, at this point in my opinion, knows about Nicola and Luke. I don’t think there’s any way they couldn’t have gotten something sent in by someone who managed to recognize them out and about. But we know that they have actively been pushing Jake and Nic and somewhat Luke and Antonia with the same tired ass pictures.

Here’s what I propose: DM has actually been working with Nicola and Luke this whole time.

Now, hear me out! Do you guys remember DM posting those tips about Luke during the WT? The flight attendant story and the chaos dinner housewife one, too? I’ve always thought this was someone on his side attempting to break the idea that Nic and Luke were something more than friends/coworkers. What if they caught wind of that, who was doing it and decided to use it to their advantage?

I’m of the opinion that Antonia was a cover. Have been for a long while and I think this was set up sometime around Brazil with the liking spree he went on. It made it appear like she was someone important in the mix which is what would be needed to make a convincing cover, right? I think  plan was set in place for her to be at the London premiere, go to events and be pictured with Luke and let it die out.

Girl went rogue though and other hands got involved and DM had to run with the pictures even with Luke looking mad as hell and his team had to sign off (possibly signed off BEFORE the hand hold pics were taken) on the pics with the “rumored girlfriend” tagline. This might have complicated shit, made people upset and it backfired horribly but there was no way to get out of it with the People’s article coming out the very next morning.

We see what we see for the next few weeks. Luke looks like a hostage, Antonia is getting some exposure and a whole lot of hate and Nic is seemingly just going about her business.

Sorrento happens. The LA pool pics were a joke and never picked up with he long ass photo shopped thumbs so they agreed to one more pap opportunity. He holds her and gets out. The entire time his friend group is posting him in stories and deleting, acting smug because they know he’s agreed to get papped and they got all high and mighty thinking this meant they were able to do the same. I think that’s where the breakdown happened.

We fast forward to the festival pics with Nicola. She’s papped with Jake, looking touchy and affectionate with this dude (who appeared on DM twice before that around the time Sorrento was going on or just after and those pub pics were taken by a friend imo) and it takes a ton of people out. Tbh I’ve always thought these were staged. They look posed in certain areas and the fact that Nic was rocking her giant claddagh in clear view of the camera was a clue for me.

They DO NOT expect this to spiral out of control and create an entire subfandom and the pap pics that come out after are not within their control. Jake is noticeably stiff and dead in the face and Nic seems upset in these pictures but DM pushes it.

They push the Jake narrative A LOT. But why?

Because Jake is actively helping Nic and Luke.

Why do we only get the same old recycled June 13th pap pics with Luke and Antonia? Because Antonia is not helping and working against Nic and Luke. That’s why DM doesn’t really seem to give much of a shit about her. But they can’t just drop her. She’s still part of a cover. So they use old pics, never really answer questions about her and the tips submitted about her never go anywhere.

Nicola has said twice that DM was not to be trusted. Did she say this to prepare people for Antonia’s presence? Personally I think the festival pics were set up after the fact, after Luke was getting tons of hate and weird fucking people trying to get in to his personal business and calling him terrible things that could greatly impact his name and reputation. So Jake was intentionally added into the idea that DM is a liar (which she is by nature) as well.

People might wonder why on earth though DM would be helping Nic and Luke by pushing these other “relationships” but imagine the dollar signs DM would be seeing if they were to be the first to drop the exclusive on them?

If DM is helping, they’re likely getting huge kickback for having to deal with us fans who believe they’re out to smear Nic and Luke’s names.

Now there are tons of holes in this theory but I literally thought of it this morning and decided to punch it out real quick. Let’s discuss!

[blusapphire]

Forever (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: The promise of forever had wrecked you once. Bucky hadn’t thought that forever was possible for him, but he wants it…with you. If you’ll have him. 

A/N: This is my first one-shot and I had so much fun writing this! Please comment and reblog! 💕

Warnings: Mild Swearing, Angst

Banner by: @uzmacchiato

Your hands flew up to block the stack of photographs that flew towards you and almost hit your face, the prints drifting in the air before falling at your feet in the penthouse apartment. 

You sighed sharply, annoyed with the fact that you had just had pictures flung towards you, and annoyed at the woman who had tossed them at you, as she furiously marched back and forth through the apartment. 

You rested your hands on your sides just before the woman hissed at you. 

“You, are unbelievable!”

You rolled your eyes at the client, not wanting to go back and forth with the woman any further, as you had been for the past fifteen minutes. 

“M’am, the proof is in the pictures-“

“Pictures that were forged! That you forged!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your frustration growing by the minute. The woman continued her furious marching back and forth, shaking her head. 

“You just put them together, somehow,” she desperately claimed. “Because you couldn’t find anything worth reporting and needed the money.”

The woman came to a strong halt in front of you, paying no mind to the pictures that her heels pressed into. 

“You’re wrong,” she said, a bit of uncertainty in her tone, and her eyes glossy as she glared at you. “You need to follow him again.”

Another sigh left your lips as you looked at the woman, a softer one this time around. 

This was one of the hardest parts of the job. The part you hated. Clients hire you to find out whatever’s happening with their spouse or partner, only to be unprepared for the results. Sometimes, your clients could patch things up, and work their way through whatever it was they were going through. Sometimes, it was easy for the couple to part ways- as easy as it could be anyway-with no strings attached. 

But in this case, marriage was involved. And in her particular case, you didn’t think there was any hope of her and her husband working things out. If they had eventually decided to rekindle, it would be through monitored phone calls and weekly visitations. 

But you doubted her relationship even had a chance of surviving, though. 

You were willing to bet on it. 

You felt for the woman. The same as you did for the same cases-which were many- that ended in the same way. It was hard having see the woman stand before you, tears threatening to spill over, as she wished with everything she had, that you were wrong. 

But you knew that deep down, she knew you were right. And that the pictures she had launched at you in denial, were very much real. 

You reached down to pick up one of the candid photos, regret filling you. The particular photo had been the dealbreaker, and had proven your previous theory of the client’s situation, one that you had formed weeks ago. 

“Look,” you began, trying to let the woman down as easily as you could. “I know it’s not easy to hear. And It’s likely the worst shit you’ve ever had to hear or find out.”

The client averted her gaze, refusing to meet your eyes. But you had a job to do, the job that she paid you for. 

Or at least, paid you half for. 

“It’s likely this has been going on for months. And instead of using the last ounce of dignity he had left to come clean, he decided to be a piece of shit, and paid someone to deal with his problems. The only way these rich assholes know how to get through life.”

The woman’s teary eyes fell to you after you said this, and you had taken in the luxury apartment you were standing in at the moment, as well as the woman’s expensive attire, which had probably cost more money than you had ever come across. 

“No offense...”

The woman let out a light chuckle, not one that was humorous, but one that harbored defeat. 

“None taken…” she admitted, a few of the tears that had been held in her eyes finally spilling over. She was able to keep her composure though, before ultimately sitting on the floor, her eyes skimming through the photos that were scattered around. 

“I knew it…” she whispered to herself. “Deep down, I knew it. He wants to run away with his mistress and makes arrangements to have me killed…”

You felt yourself frown a bit as you watched the woman come to terms with what she knew, and a sense of familiarity hit you. You had felt for her. 

You were her at one point. 

Thankfully though, minus the murder attempt. 

And you could guess that her marriage hadn’t always been at this point. Who would ever get married if it had started this way? 

And with that in mind, you offered what you could. 

“Look, I’m sorry. But,” you reluctantly started. “I would get on the phone with the police, right now, if I were you and…” you paused, a sigh leaving you. “It’s hard. It will be, but it gets better. Eventually…”

You could visibly see your words resonated with her, and she wiped the tears that covered her cheeks, and quickly stood. 

“I won’t keep you any longer. Here,” she walked over the large coffee table where her bag purse sat, pulling out a pen and a checkbook. She scribbled on a page, before ripping it off and politely handing it to you. 

“Thank you,” she said, wiping away the rest of the tears. “And I’m sorry about the pictures.”

You nodded, assuring her that it was okay, surprised that it was the only way she had lashed out. 

You could call the case successful, as you left the woman’s apartment. The client had been searching for answers, and you delivered. You could call it successful, but it didn’t make it any less disheartening. No matter how much you had gotten paid. 

And it didn’t make each case that was similar to this one sting any less for you. 

The buzz of your phone has stolen your attention for a moment, and you stopped with a smile before pulling it out of your back pocket to read what you knew was a text from the person who always made your face light up. 

Bucky:

Hey. Are we still on for tonight?

The text made you smile grow even wider, and took your mind off the memory that threatened to ruin your night. Excitement rang through you as you answered the text, along with determination to figure out why your boyfriend had been acting weird all week.

And tonight, you finally might’ve figured out why. 

You:

Duh. I’ll be back home in an hour ; )

You let out a laugh at Bucky’s attempt and miserable fail to send a smiley face in reply to your message, noting the age joke you would have to make to him later. 

Bucky had been acting weird lately. 

Very weird. 

He didn’t think that you noticed his change in behavior, but you would’ve had to be blind not to notice. 

The two of you had missed each other all week, with Bucky either on back to back missions, or you swamped with cases. This was the first time all week the two of you had had any time to spend together, and you were soaking up every second of it. 

“Ha-Ha, very funny,” Bucky said in a dry tone, a crooked smile on his lips. “You're hilarious. Really.”

You dodged the cheese puff that had been weakly tossed at you by Bucky as he planted himself on the couch next to you, a giggle leaving your lips. 

“I’m sorry, but I had to,” you said, your laugh cutting through your sentence. “But gotta admit-that was a good one.”

Bucky paused, a small smirk forming. 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “That was pretty good.” 

Your laughter faded, and so did his, but his smile remained as he locked eyes with you. He looked at you, really looked at you, and there was silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, it was warm-a comfortable one. Bucky leaned in and his lips met yours, soft but firmly. The kiss lasted all but a few seconds, but it left you breathless. 

You could feel the lingering smile that was left on Bucky’s lips as he pulled away, his eyes still on you. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that all week.”

Bucky stayed closer than usual, and just…stared at you. He looked like he was in a daze, or dream as his deep blue eyes gazed right at you, eyes tracing your face. His smile never once left his lips, and you were starting to grow concerned, when he finally spoke. 

“I love you…”

That was exactly what you were talking about. 

That was weird. 

You had heard the three words from him hundreds of times, but this one, like many other ones this week, had sounded…off. 

You squinted in confusion, speaking. 

“Uh…I love you too…?

Your words seemed to have no effect though, as Bucky continued to simply…stare at you. He must have not realized how long he was staring, or that he was staring in the first place, and when you called his name, a few times at that, he seemed to snap out of the daze he was in. 

“Sorry,” he said, as he shook his head. “Uh-What were we doing before I got completely distracted?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused, but you brushed the moment off. You stole a few glances at Bucky throughout the night, and ultimately decided to let it go. Until later on…

“So…” Bucky paused, a question at his lips. “Why is it called The Office, if they barely ever do any work?

Bucky’s question had you letting out a laugh as you comfortably sat under his arm as it rested on your shoulders, the sitcom running in the background. 

“Well, that’s the point,” you laughed, Bucky’s face only making the sounds of laughter louder. “It’s more of a comedy than a realistic office show.”

“Huh,” Bucky whispered to himself at your explanation, and the way his brows furrowed told you he still didn’t quite get the concept. “Anyway, enough of that…”

Bucky reached for the remote and shut the tv off, and stood up heading for the kitchen, but not before pulling you along with him. 

“Hey! I was watching that!”

Bucky chuckled at your protest, and you had tons of questions as to why whatever just happened happened, but paused when Bucky had finally stopped pulling you when you reached the dining table, and you spotted two familiar containers of a desert you loved. 

Your eyes went wide as they fell to Bucky’s blue ones. 

“Shut. up.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed at your words. 

“I didn’t say anything-…”

“No, I mean,” you pointed to the dining table. “You can only get this cheesecake downtown…”

Your eyes fell to Bucky’s again. 

“Yeah, I-uh, made the stop on the way home.”

“And we couldn’t eat these in the living room while watching the office because…?”

Bucky seemed to scramble to say something, before he actually did utter something that sounded made up. 

“Well,” he threw his hand up. “We’re already in the kitchen, so…”

You opened your mouth to speak once more when Bucky was leading you away again, closer to the table this time, and stopped you right in front of the container of cheesecake. He handed you a fork before getting one for himself, and pulled a chair out for you.

You reluctantly lowered yourself in the chair across from Bucky, a wave of confusion hitting you. 

This was exactly what you were talking about. 

This was weird. 

Bucky was acting off. You could no longer brush off his bizarre behavior, and this showed when you set your fork down, brows furrowing at your boyfriend, curiosity filling you. 

And Bucky had noticed. 

“What..?”

You continued your stance as you sat back in your chair, your head tilting to the side, determined. Bucky looked visibly confused at the sudden change in your demeanor, and in his confusion, he mimicked your stance. 

“You’re being weird.”

“You started it.”

You could tell that Bucky had been at a loss for words, and scrambled to say something. 

“I-I thought that was your favorite thing about me.”

“Yeah…” you dragged out, your brows still furrowed. “But you’re acting weirder than usual. More than I’m comfortable with.”

“Uh…” Bucky once again scrambled to say something, before eventually reaching for his fork and digging into the cheesecake in front of him. “How was work…?”

You glanced around, confused at Bucky’s decision to stonewall your question. You had a feeling that simply asking what was going on would get you nowhere, so you thought you’d humor him. 

For now, anyway. 

 “Uh…well, it was a typical case. He was cheating, of course. They had married young and in the end they despised each other…and he tried to have her murdered.”

Bucky started right at you, stunned and startled by what you had just said. 

“Huh..”

“Yeah,” you sighed, finally digging into the cheesecake in front of you, vaguely noticing the way Bucky had sat up at the action, eyes focusing on you. “I just think it’s sad. The murder attempt and the cheating of course, but… I just think it’s sad to think they hadn’t started out that way. The relationship, I mean. They were headed for disaster from the moment they said ‘I do’…”

You took another bite of your cheesecake, and once again vaguely noticed a reaction from Bucky, as he suddenly stopped eating. 

“Uh, wh-what do you mean?”

You took Bucky’s question in, and paused for a moment, poking at your cake. 

You knew exactly what you meant. 

“Well,” you sighed, shrugging. “I just think that…marriage is where good-great- relationships go to die.”

“Um, wh-what do you mean?”

Bucky asked in the same tone he had previously, a mix of both anxious and shocked, as if he was caught off guard by your words. 

“I mean, it sells you a fairytale and in the end, you just end up hating each other. The same person you would’ve done anything for…you end up wanting to be as far away as possible from.”

“But they don’t…all end up that way, right?” Bucky asked, letting out a shaky little laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, people still get married…right?

“Yeah. First timers. Cause they don’t know any better,” your tone dripping with obviousness. “If you ask me, they’re doomed right from the proposal.”

“How so…?” Bucky asked, another shaky laugh leaving him. 

“You know, the ones that are so predictable. Like at a famous landmark, like the Statue of Liberty, or the Eiffel Tower,” you started, and Bucky leaned in seeming more interested in the particular conversation. “Or the typical hiding the ring in a champagne glass, or a cake…”

Right at that moment, you noticed that Bucky had frozen. It was just enough that you had noticed it, his cheeks flushing a bit and a strained smile on his lips. 

“In a…cake?” He repeated, his voice a little higher than normal. 

You arched your brow slightly in response to his bizarre behavior, but kept going. 

“Yeah, it's just so cliche…”

Your eyes didn’t leave Bucky’s face when you spoke, and you watched as he sat up in his chair, clearing his throat. He picked up his fork and began to poke at his cake, his eyes flicking up and darting back down, occasionally stealing a look at the cheesecake that sat in front you. 

And you just couldn’t brush it off. 

“Okay, what is going on with you?”

Bucky’s gaze shot up to meet yours, and you thought you had sensed a bit of panic in his gaze, but it quickly evaporated as he changed his expression and smiled, one you thought was forced. 

“Nothing,” he shrugged, holding a smile.

You kept your gaze on him for a couple seconds, wanting to understand what was going on because you were sure that something was going on. But the only way you would get answers were through your questions that Bucky seemed to not want to answer. And with that in mind, you brushed off another unusual moment, something that was happening too often now. 

“Okay…,” you dragged out in a questioning tone, picking up your fork. “I’ll take your word for it then, I guess…”

Just before you could take another dig at the cake that sat before you, Bucky reached across the table, quickly swapping your cheesecake with his own. 

“Hey!,” you called out, throwing your hands up. “Why would you-?”

“I just thought you’d like mine better. Tastes better.”

Your brows furrowed at him. 

“But aren’t they the same-?”

Bucky wasted no time before digging into the cheesecake, your cheesecake. He dug his fork into the cake and when he brought it to his mouth, he chewed once or twice, and the third time his chewing came to a sharp halt, and he looked as if he had jolted a bit. 

Your brows furrowed even further if possible, and when Bucky came to the realization that you were watching him, he presented that same forced smile, stiff to the point of awkwardness, his eyes reflecting a kind of tension. 

“Okay…?” You said, finally taking another bite. 

You wanted to inquire forward, but the way that Bucky had brushed the matter off only made you feel as though nothing really had been going on, and that you had even imagined the moment. 

But it didn’t stop the questioning looks you gave your boyfriend for the remainder of the night. 

 6 Months Ago ~

Bucky’s POV:

Bucky didn’t mean to stare for as long as had been. But he just couldn’t help it. It had become a habit he had no interest or intention of breaking anytime soon. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off you as he watched you try -and fail- to balance the spoon on your nose, chuckling at you as you swore that you’d get it on the next try.

Moments with you were so…peaceful. Enjoyably chaotic at times, but…peaceful. Bucky was used to the chaos of missions, the fight or flight decisions that came with it, and at times he could never really separate his home life from them. He could never shut his mind off or stop it from running, with thoughts and memories of his past. 

But with you-when he was with you, there was quiet. You were the calm in his storm, a storm that had been brewing for years, a storm he thought would only and could only get worse. 

But somehow, you made it better. 

With you, he wasn’t simply surviving…he was living. With you he could just…let go. 

His slight awkwardness and his inability to adjust to the modern world hadn’t thrown you off, at all. Instead, you had embraced it, a joke in your mind for every time he had done something to assure he had grown up in different times. And this only drew you to him even more, because it had been a deep contrast between you and the other women who had ghosted him after the second-or even first-date. 

And as he kept his gaze on you, just enamoured, the familiar feeling hit him. A feeling he had been feeling more often than not lately. 

It was something he had never felt before, something that was new to him. 

It was the urge, the deep desire to just want to…stay. 

The word had plagued his thoughts for about a year now, but he knew it about a few months in. Instantly. 

Marriage. 

It was something that he tried to push out of his mind every time it came to him. Bucky didn’t think he deserved it-a future with you, one that sounded like heaven on earth. He didn’t think he deserved it-not after everything he’d done, and all the pain he had caused others with his past as the Winter Soldier. The guilt still ate him alive, and he had let go of the possibility a long time ago. 

But how could he not have hope again when you -the girl of his dreams- stood right in front of him? Sometimes he daydreamed about what married life would be like with you-probably not too far off from what it was now. 

The lazy mornings, your confusing-but intriguing- tv shows you had forced him to watch with you…if there was a possibility that this life with you could be forever…

He wanted that. And there was no doubt about it. 

He had no idea what marriage looked like, but he was willing to figure it out together. 

Bucky’s heart sank a bit though, as he thought back to the first-and last- time he had mentioned something about marriage. 

“Do you ever think about…marriage? Not like, now, but just…in general. Like is it something you’d…consider? Again…?”

The two of you were only a few months into your relationship, so Bucky could see why it was a weird question. But marriage was a further step that couples took, and it was something he never saw himself doing but meeting you, falling for you and feeling the way he did was never something he saw himself in either. 

He had wanted to ask for some time, but had held off on it, because he couldn’t predict how you would react due to your…unforeseen past and bad experience with marriage. Something Bucky knew was a sore spot for you. 

Bucky could tell that you had been caught off guard by the question, evident by the way you had choked on the coffee you had been sipping on, instantly making Bucky feel guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky shook his head as he scrambled to apologize, guiltily. “Sorry, that I brought it up, I didn’t mean to make you-uncomfortable. Just, never mind-“

“No, it’s-it’s okay,” you assured him, wiping the coffee that had dropped down your chin. “We can talk about it.”

Bucky noticed the way your body language had changed all of a sudden, your face taut as you sighed.  

“Um…well, I don’t know if I’d try again. My first one was a shit show, but it hadn’t always been. I made the decision to get married because I thought things would get better than what it was and…it just ended up blowing up in my face,” you shrugged, your gaze focused on the coffee in your mug. 

Bucky could feel the shift in your mood, and he reached over to place his hand over yours. You acknowledged him, forcing a smile. 

“I just think…why try to change it if it’s fine-great-the way it is?”

Bucky took your answer in, nodding. 

“Yeah…yeah, I get that. Makes sense…”

The truth was that it did make sense to Bucky, but…he couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t a bit bummed by your answer. 

He could tell that your first marriage had left you shaken and changed something in you. He didn’t think he would be able to stop himself from doing something…unpleasant to the guy you had exchanged vows with before, so he didn’t like to think about it too much. 

He hadn’t wanted to push you, or force you to accept something you didn’t think you were ready for, so he never inquired further or brought up the word again. 

But the fact still remained-that he did want that future with you. 

So what if…the two of you could get it right this time?

Grow old-older, in his case,-together? It was something he was hopeful about, and if there was a chance-any chance- that you were willing to spend the rest of your life with him…

He just had to take it. 

It was just a matter of how, though. 

You couldn’t stop smiling to yourself as you waved the old couple goodbye, putting away the container of cookies the sweet old woman insisted you take. 

This had been one of the better cases, one you didn’t normally take, but you decided you would humor the elderly couple. They had hired you to investigate their son, who they had suspected was planning on throwing them a surprise anniversary party. 

You had been…puzzled, at first. You had explained to them that your services weren’t typically used for situations like theirs, but you had to admit, they had gotten to you. Convinced you, somehow. 

There was something about the couple that just made you…think. 

And think you did, for hours, as you sat at your desk at your agency.  

You thought about how adorable the old couple was, from how the husband still heartwarmingly still pulled the chair for his wife to sit in, to how they finished each other’s sentences. You couldn’t help but to notice the pictures that had hung on the walls, older and newer. The couple had been madly in love. And you didn’t know how but, you could tell that nothing had changed between them. 

They were still the same couple that they were in those pictures, their love having not faltered. 

And it just made you think about your own relationship. 

The word had plagued your thoughts for a while now. 

Marriage. 

You had been through it before, and it chewed your previous relationship up and spit it out. You had no idea that the outcome would have been what it was. It seemed impossible at the time. 

All you knew was that you were in love, and after you got married…it was almost as if the love was never there. 

A few years after that disaster, you had met Bucky. Someone who you could confidently say was the man of your dreams. 

Marriage was something couples used to progress in their relationship, something to take it a step further. It wasn’t required, though, and you thought that relationships could thrive even without a marriage. 

And that was exactly your point. 

What you had with Bucky was amazing. Something you had never experienced before, not even in your first marriage. No one’s relationship was perfect, but to you, yours and Bucky’s was perfect. 

Why the hell would you do anything to change that?

But on the other hand, something you thought about at times was…

What if?

Sometimes you thought about it. What forever would look like with Bucky…and it sounded like heaven on earth. and if Bucky had ever asked you to spend forever with him…you would want to. More than anything. 

But the truth was…that you were afraid. 

The what if’s didn’t only apply to whether you and Bucky could get it right but what if…you couldn’t?

What if…marriage ruined everything? What if you ended up hating the person you loved the most?

The possibility scared you more than anything. 

But it also didn’t make sense. A world where you couldn’t stand Bucky. You were perfect for each other. 

So the decision you had to make was clear…

If Bucky had asked you to spend forever with him…were you willing to take the chance? The chance of possibly losing what you two had, something that was special? Were you willing to make a bet on love?

The question rang in your mind for hours on end, and you were barely able to get any work done. 

And it wasn’t long before you felt it. 

The floor had started shaking beneath you, and it wasn’t long after until your desk had begun to do the same. In the same moment, you thought you had heard screaming and the rush of footsteps, but they sounded muffled- far, but close enough so that you could hear. 

The commotion had caused you and a few of your colleagues to rise from your desks, curious. No one had to say anything, though some did, but it was apparent that everyone wanted to know what was going on. 

Just as you were about to investigate, you both felt and heard the impact that had caused the windows to shatter, shards flying, screams and panic ensuing. 

Yourself and a few others flew, with nothing but the ground to break your fall. Your body began to ache from the impact, but you had no time to even suffer from the pain when you felt the violent rumble of the floor. 

You had no time to process what was happening, and before you knew it…

 You were falling. 

You felt a rush of air as you fell through the floor, and the impact of landing had been worse than the first, your ears left ringing and vision a bit blurry. You had hit the ground, hard, and it left you breathless. You were grateful that you could move though, and you stood shakily, your body in pain. You couldn’t see much, though, and you had soon realized it wasn’t due to your vision, which was close to clearing up. 

As you glanced around, you had just taken in how dark it was. And after shuffling around in the small space that had just seemed to be surrounded by rocks, you had soon realized that you were trapped. 

Rubble had boxed you in the enclosed space, and panic had begun to set in. You used all the strength you had to try to move a rock, any rock, to create a pathway, You yelled out in hopes that someone, anyone, would hear you, and had almost given up hope when no one seemed to answer you. 

You were stuck for all of ten minutes, when you finally did hear an answer -your name- and the sound of rushing footsteps as they came closer. 

 And you would have recognized the voice anywhere.

“Bucky?”

The footsteps sounded like they’d stopped right above you, and you heard your name again, confirming who you were talking to. 

“Bucky, I’m trapped! I-I can’t get out!”

“Hang on! I’m gonna pull you out!”

Not long after, you heard the movement of some rubble above you, debris falling past your head and hitting the ground. You could hear Bucky straining as he pushed rubble aside, and soon after, light had peeked through a crack above you. You heard more straining from Bucky and with a final yank and heave, you watched as Bucky pushed aside a large piece of rubble, leaving a gap just large enough so that you could slip through. 

“Give me your hand!”

You could see much better now, and you climbed on top of some uneven rubble so you could reach Bucky’s hand that was extended out to you. You were up and on even ground in an instant, Bucky pulling you up and out of the gap with ease. 

“Are you alright?” Concern leaked through Bucky’s tone, and his hands quickly moved to your face, his metal one cooler against your face as he checked for any marks, gently holding your face. 

“I’m fine,” you said, taking notice of the concern on Bucky’s face. “Just a little bruised, but I’m fine. I promise.”

Bucky glanced over your face, letting go of a breath that you didn’t know he was holding in and your face, tension leaving him when he believed you. 

You ran your eyes over Bucky, taking notice of the tear in his jacket, and the bruise that had been forming just above his brow, sweat dripping down his forehead. And you wasted no time in asking what was going on. 

“Are you okay? What is going on? What the hell just happened?”

“Sam and I were tracking a target and things got messy…and the building ended up being collateral,” he admitted. “I rushed in the second I realized the place was hit. I didn’t know if you were still inside…”

You felt the weight of Bucky’s words, overwhelmed at the fact that he had been willing to risk his life for you. There was a moment of silence, before Bucky cleared his throat, speaking.

“Uh-We should probably get the hell out of here. The rest of this place could come down at any minute...”

It felt like a journey trying to get out of the crumbling building. You both moved quickly, and you followed closely behind Bucky as he led you down the path he came, Bucky occasionally offering his hand to pull you up or through the rubble in your path, something that had no doubt been easier for him due to his enhanced abilities. 

You and Bucky hadn’t exchanged more than a few words in a while, and you stole glances at him as you walked side by side now, and you could tell that he had been doing the same with you by the way your eyes had met every now and then. 

Even as you and Bucky made your way out and through the damaged rubble to escape the crumbling building that threatened to fall at any moment, it wasn’t what was on your mind. 

Your mind was clouded with the thoughts you had been having all day, the same one you had had before you were in this mess. Bucky looked the same way. It looked as though he wanted to say something, but just chose to keep stealing glances at you. 

The silence between you was thick, and it only seemed to be getting worse. You thought maybe you should say something, anything, but Bucky had beat you to it. You stopped just a few feet ahead of Bucky, confused, as he came to a sharp halt. 

Bucky stood still for a moment, his eyes closed as he took short deliberate breaths. And about a second later, he opened his eyes, staring straight at you. 

“I can’t do this anymore…”

Your brows furrowed at him. 

“What are you talking about? Why did we stop?”

Your question seemed to fall on deaf ears as Bucky turned with his back to you and paced around for a moment, before turning to face you again. He ran his tongue over his lips before he locked eyes with you. 

“Hypothetically…if someone were to, say, ask you a really big question…what would your answer be?

“What?” You were beyond confused, your eyes wide as you looked at Bucky. You didn’t understand what could have been so important in a moment like this. 

There was silence again. And you watched and heard as Bucky sighed. 

“…I don’t have a speech or anything prepared, but…”

Bucky looked at the ground, sighing, and locked eyes with you once again. 

“There’s a lot about me that’s…complicated. Messed up, even…but you…you just make sense. Like somehow, you’re the one thing that fits when nothing else does.”

His words touched you, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. 

“I had let go of the prospect of a future a long time ago. It wasn’t like a door that had just closed- it was like a door that had been incinerated and burnt to ash. And there was nothing left to walk through. But then I met you…and that door just reappeared. Solid. Like it had never been gone…

You felt yourself freeze where you stood as you finally caught on, taking in Bucky’s words. You could have been wrong but…was Bucky proposing?

“I’ve been trying to do this all week,” Bucky pulled out a small box from his pocket, fiddling with it. “I tried to find the right words, and the right moment…and I have this ring that still has cake in it and it’s chipped from when I bit into it. Never mind that, though, -it’s a long story…”

Though confused at his words, you couldn’t help the light laugh that had left you at Bucky’s babbling. 

“I guess what I want to say is…I love you, Y/N. God, I love you.”

Bucky drew himself closer to you. 

“You’re the best damn thing that’s happened to me in a long time and what we have…I don’t ever want to let it go…”

Bucky sighed, his eyes still locked on yours. 

“I know you’ve been through a lot. And I know it didn’t go the way you had planned the first time around, and I’m not asking you to pretend that it didn’t happen. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that when I think about forever…my forever…there isn’t a world that exists where you’re not in it.”

You watched as Bucky furrowed his brows, perplexed. 

“Huh,” he whispered to himself, a small frown on his lips. “I guess I did have a speech…”

You and Bucky were left in silence. You were deep in thought, just…staring ahead. 

This was Bucky. Your Bucky. And as he stood before you confessing his love to you, words that rang true for you as well, babbling about things that you probably would never understand, the same question that had plagued your thoughts came to you again…

Were you willing to make a bet on love?

You didn’t have to ponder much to come up with an answer, and soon enough, your decision was clear. 

You thought to yourself…

That there wasn’t a world where you could ever hate Bucky Barnes. 

With the thought in mind, you bit back a smile, your eyes glancing at Bucky again. 

“Was that a proposal…?” You asked the question you already knew the answer to, and you watched as Bucky came to a realization.

“Shit-yeah. Yes-shit, I forgot to ask,” Bucky shook his head, and your loud sounds of laughter echoed off the rubble. He got down on one knee, holding out the box to you. “Y/N…will you marry me?”

Without a word, you pressed your lips against Bucky’s, the action catching him off guard. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you deepened the kiss, and it said a million words that you didn’t have to say out loud. 

Bucky’s lips had held a smile similar to yours when you both pulled away, a question at his lips. 

“Um…was that a yes, or-?”

“Yes, Bucky! Yes, I’ll marry you!”

A relieved smile had painted Bucky’s face as he slipped the ring on your finger, and as he did, you couldn’t help the excitement and contentment that ran through you, as you thought about what forever with Bucky would look like. 

“So…what were you saying about there being cake in the ring…?”

“Oh-uh…I’ll explain as soon as we get out of here…”

[tamlinweek]

A special Tamlin Week surprise: Tamlin reads your fics!

The mods here at Tamlin Week are SO delighted and honored to present Henry Kramer, Tamlin's voice actor of the ACOTAR graphic audio books, reading Tamlin fanfiction lines in character.

None of this would be possible without @laziestkiwi, who messaged us and got us in touch with Henry. We crowdsourced some of your favorite fanfic lines, and sent them to Henry to peruse. He picked a few of those lines to read and recorded them FOR FREE!

If you enjoy Henry's work as much as we do, be sure to follow him on Twitch, Instagram, or Facebook. You can also get in touch with him on his website here to commission him for voice acting work.

As a side note: We sent Henry almost 60 lines of fanfiction, with no expectation that he would read every single one. The lines read were chosen by Henry, who is not involved in fandom in any way. The chosen lines and authors do not represent any favoritism by the mods here, they were simple the quotes that spoke most to Henry.

And now, on to the main event! Tamlin bringing your fanfiction to life!

Bravery Is In Spite Of Fear by @achaotichuman

“You never lost me.” He murmured, pressing another kiss, this one to her brow, “You have never lost me.”

Am I making you feel sick? by @yaralulu

Be angry. Show me how angry you are.

When Lucien opened his mouth to say another irritable thing, Tamlin shut him up the only way he knew how. He kissed him.

Eternal Equinox by @sonics-atelier

Spring and Autumn, now as one,   A union blessed beneath the sun.   Through seasons’ turn, their love shall bloom,            Eternal life through earth’s perfume.

carry that weight by @fourteentrout

"I need to protect my people in the ways I know how. I'm needed out there more than I am in here." He answered anyway, nodding towards the forest beyond the grounds.

“Does that unmake me? Am I a new being with every form I take?” The High Lord asked without bite. “I am who I am.”

borrowed time by @ipona

"I meant what I said." He looks at Rhys, catching his gaze, holding it for a moment longer than Rhys expects him to. "And who of us isn't a brute, really?"

Songs of Spring by @themildestofwriters

“It’s a song about hope,” Tamlin said, finally, slouching forward and meeting Tarquin’s eyes. “About how, even after the darkest times, I could still find happiness — joy, even. It might take years, decades, centuries, even, but it will pass as surely as night turns to day.”

Tarquin nodded, understanding, and smiled. “Or as winter turns to summer. A true song of Spring, then.”

cosmogeny by @highlordofkrypton

It takes Tamlin a moment to find the words he’d like to gift to Nyx. No matter what they are, Nyx will cherish them, as he has with any other moment in the presence of his light. When Tamlin speaks, it’s with a wistful smile on his handsome face.

“Because I’ve just met you, and it’s always a shame to lose someone, especially someone you’re fond of.”

How Nesta Archeron Learned to Trap A Beast by @achaotichuman

“Ready?” Tamlin asked. Nesta didn’t answer him, just walked into the forests before them. Tamlin let her get far enough into the tree lines that he couldn’t see her before he shouted, “Wrong way!” “Fuck you!”

“I’m here. I’m here Nesta.” He said. “Stay with me.” She whispered, “Please.” There was a moment of pure silence, one that bore into her heavy soul. “I would never leave.” He promised her, “Never.”

The Gown by @goforth-ladymidnight

"I love you, thorns and all, and I always will."

dividers made by @olenvasynyt

[heretical-cogitations]

Marneus calgar x afab!reader

Word count: ~890

I clearly have a problem that is showing no signs of slowing down.

Feel a bit meh about this, but I needed to share how much of a freaky old man Calgar is from the start.

Warnings: dom!calgar, piv sex, manhandling, size kink.

Please let me know if I have missed anything!

If you are going to get involved with this silver fox you need to leave any modesty at the door, he fucks nasty, and you’ll be on the receiving end of that from square one.

You first catch his eye during a function of some description, Calgar for once isn’t in his huge armour, but still looks just as imposing.

He can’t tear his gaze away, he needs to get to know you – he’s made up his mind, he will have you.

SIDE NOTE:- If for some reason you aren’t interested be prepared for him to whip out a data slate and go through each captain in the chapter, he’s sussed out you like marine meat, so he’ll find you a potential match before sending you on your way.

If you show you are interested, he is so so so cripplingly charming in that weird, stiffly formal space marine way.

Teases you in front of everyone in the most out of pocket way, but gets away with it because:

1. he’s the chapter master of the ultramarines and

2. most baselines think space marines don’t have any sexual urges or encounters so he couldn’t possibly mean that in any untoward way.

The light touches to your arm and lower back as he leans down to hear you, are him just being courteous.

He plays so hard into this innocent act, until you are a blushing mess and the final nail in the coffin comes when he leans in far too close.

“Are you well? Do you need to step out for a little while? Allow me to accompany you, little one.”

You’d think it was genuine concern if the corners of his mouth weren’t turned up in the slightest smirk.

Once you’re away from prying eyes, he drops the act confessing how much he wants you, those once soft touches now heavy and heated against your back trailing down to give you a good, firm squeeze on the arse, the gasp you let out echoing in the empty hall.

He pulls you into a deep passionate kiss as he keeps kneading away at your skin.

When he pulls away, you’re breathless, face flushed and dazed, you think he is trying to kill you.

Next thing you know you are being dragged to his chambers.

Not even 10 mins later your face is pressed against the chamber’s door, clothes long gone, you don’t even know where, whorish moans ripping out of you, legs shaking, hands scrambling around to find anything to hold onto. One settles on the white-grey hair to your side.

He has 3 long fat fingers pistoning into you with almost a machine like speed and efficiency.

Calgar is looming over you licking the shell of your ear and whispering to you

“Such a tight little hole, need to make sure you’re nice and stretched before you can take my cock.”

“You close darling? You want to cum? Mm, can feel you squeezing down on my fingers.”

You nod feverishly, eyes tearing up, you can barely feel you legs, you can’t compute how just his fingers are so mind numbingly good, you’re so close, pleading mewls tumbling out of you.

He pulls his fingers out, a deranged whine rackets through you at the loss, hips bucking wildly in search for his hand.

He chuckles, giving you a soft pat on the thigh “You haven’t earnt it yet, little one.”

You will be getting edged every time with him, he is going to make the most of his astartes stamina to give you the most toe-curling earth-shattering orgasms, but you will have to work for them.

Turns you around, throws one of your legs over his shoulders and shoves those used fingers in your mouth - be good and clean them for him.

Calgar takes advantages of you gagging on his fingers to stifle the moan you let out when he thrusts in.

You’re not given time to adjust, he takes his fingers out of your mouth and uses his free hand to lift your other leg up then holds you in place.

Your hands are thrown around his neck, clinging on to him for dear life

The combo of his strong hips and hands fucking you onto his cock with the added force of gravity has your eyes rolling in the back of your skull, tears streaming down your face and drool pooling in your mouth, his cock jamming itself against your cervix thrust after thrust.

He loves how ruined you look, begging for him not to pull out again, moaning about how much you need to cum, you’ll do anything if he lets you cum.

Your cries are so pretty his own groans picking up in response.

He’s managed to fuck all the coherent thoughts right out of your head, he can feel how close you are, and he gives in letting you make a mess all over his cock.

You're a twitching mess in his arms.

He walks you over to the desk placing you gently onto the cool surface

He pulls out slapping his length against your clit. “That’s it, good girl.”

Your back arches as you try to squirm away. He catches you by the hip flipping you around, one hand moving to wrap around your throat pulling you up and back towards him.

“Ready for more?”

[toomanyfandoms04]

To Be Loved (Yoonho Baek x Reader) 5

Under 18 and Ageless blogs will be blocked.

Content warning: Stalking, attempted assault, protective!Yoonho Baek

Chapter 5

Conventions are very loud, very crowded, and very expensive.

The convention center was split into three areas. The smallest area in the center of the mess was the food court. Many American classics were served, along with some exotic tastes.

Breakfast the first day consisted of an oatmeal bowl with fruits for you, and 5 corndogs for Baek. You teased your boss for his unique taste for breakfast food.

The two other sections were about the same size. One side was the weapons and the other side was armor. Scatter through the entire convention were booths with recruiters, technology specialists, and one weird religion booth.

Today, the first official day that the convention was open, you, Baek, Stanley, and Shane, all explored the weapons room.

You were shocked at the variety of weapons offered. There were hundreds of racks full of swords, axes, shield, daggers, bows, arrows, crossbows, and to your surprise, guns.

Apparently, the Government of the United States used a majority of their crystal resources from the mines in manufacturing special bullets that can take down monsters from the portals. After the initial appearance of the portals, the government prioritized the manufacturing of weapons for its military.

In the United States, there are many private hunter’s guilds. The most lucrative and dangerous path to take is to join the United States military. They are involved with all S rank dungeons and often secure the parameter around the portal. The humans in the military are armed with the specialized guns.

If only they got their shit together before my family died.

The weapons all had a varying amount of enchantments on them. Some added to the strength of the user, other took strength from the monsters. Fire, ice, and other enchantments were on the shields, swords, and arrows.

As your boss lead the group from booth to booth, you accepted all of the packets filled with descriptions of weapons and the manufacturers. You mark down which specific weapons or shields Baek showed interest in before storing the heavy amounts of paper in your bag. At booths that peeked your boss’s interest, he would gesture for you to exchange business cards with the booth owners.

During the entire day at the convention, you noticed your boss keeping you at a strict arm’s length away. You know both the conversations and actions from the both of you stepped over the professional to personal line.

You partially scold yourself for feeling hurt by Baek’s actions and behavior today. You had to actual reason to feel sad. Mr. Baek is your boss.

Granted, he was very protective of you and still acts like a total gentleman. You probably feel the way you do because of how long its been since a man had treated you right.

Yeah. That’s it.

Mr. Baek is just being a good boss. You’re just too touch starved and deprived of proper human treatment to the point of professional and personal lines get blurry.

Yoonho Baek is disappointed in his own actions. He knows that you have a boyfriend. Baek should not have touched you last night; he especially should not have touched himself last night.

I am an S-rank Hunter and the chairman of a guild. I should have more discipline!

Through his inner turmoil, Baek couldn’t bring himself to regret any of his actions.

You had consumed an entire bottle of wine last night. Your inebriated state (and possibly naivety) would have left you to be prey to those tow men last night.

Baek was simply performing his duty as a gentleman and protecting you from those creeps. He will admit he got a bit handsy, but in his defense, so did you.

As your group eats lunch (you devour deep fried mozzarella on a stick), Baek takes in your attire for today.

You had on a black pair of slacks, some name brand lace up shoe (he think the brand starts with a C), and a dark orange sweater.

Baek, Stanley, and Shane all opted for tee-shirts.

Maybe you get cold quickly?

As the day goes on, your bag gets heavier and the crowds get thinner. You continue to trail behind your boss.

Stanley and Shane are spread out, establishing a constantly changing parameter.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of familiar long brown hair.

You turn to get a better look, and sure enough, Tyler and Alex were moving towards you and Baek.

You elbow your boss to get his attention. You smile and wave at Tyler and Alex, but Baek’s hand grabs yours and drags you away from the approaching people.

Practically sprinting, you both weave through the crowd until you enter a congested area.

Baek drops your hand and you look up to him, puzzled. His red eyes give you a silent warning, to not touch the subject.

You not the pronounced vein in Baek’s neck, throbbing against his tan skin.

Last night must have been worse than what I remember.

Your group gets tinner to take back to the hotel. Baek was unusually quiet.

It was almost like he was brooding.

-

Now, you are sitting in your room with Jean on Facetime. Officially, you are scanning all of the documents and sending them to Jean. Jean is on the phone with you to help you with the documenting process and to tell you when she receives your files.

Unofficially, you and Jean are talking about your boss.

“I’m telling you. A normal boss would never casually massage an employee’s neck. Unless the boss in question is a masseuse or chiropractor. But that’s beside the point.” Jean tosses her straight blonde hair over her should, readjusting in her office chair.

“Still, it was a very nice thing for him to do. Especially with how he stopped those men from staring at me.” You press send as you think back to his warm hands on your back.

“Well, that just proves my point that your bar of expectations is literally in Hell. Any decent man should preserve any woman’s modesty. Document 37 just came through/” You hum in acknowledgement.

“I do need to ask you something.” You look up from your work to see Jean grinning at your through the phone.

“Yes?” By her smirk you know what direction your conversation will be going.

“You have to have seen how big he is! Come on, he was in wet pants for goodness sake!” You shake your head, refusing to give her any more fuel for her inappropriate fire.

“Oh! What about when you were grabbing his leg? You happen to grab on to his third leg?” Your hands are covering your face to hide the deep red blush covering your face.

“I didn’t touch anything, Jean. Can we get back to doing our work? Please?” Jean cackles at your embarrassment, reluctantly agreeing to do her job.

You both stayed on the phone until all of the documents were scanned, sent, and organized in the database.

After showering, you drag your tired body to bed. You got some much-needed sleep that night.

On the other side of the shared wall, Yoonho Baek was doing work of his own. His primary focus was telling the security guards to keep those two men away from you.

Baek had a hard time falling asleep that night. His gut kept telling him that something was wrong. He hasn’t been able to shake that feeling ever since meeting Alex yesterday.

Stanley and Shane took shifts that night, guarding your door.

Neither of them could see the silent figure watching their every move.

Waiting.

Planning.

-

The second day at the convention started the same as the first day. After breakfast, you would follow your boss, accepting papers and handing out business cards.

The armor available came in just as much variety as the weapons. Cloaks, shields, shoulder pads, jewelry, helmets, pants, and even underwear were all made to protect the wearer in come way, shape, or form.

The enchantments all varied as well. Some simply produced a physical shield around the wearer. Others prevent extreme heat or extreme cold from affecting the wearer. Others can induce a wall of flames, make you invisible, or even affect the way you perceive your environment.

While at one of the last booths before dinner, Baek noticed your attention drawn to an amulet.

There was a small purple crystal (resembling an amethyst) surrounded by intricate gold pattern. The amulet was hung on a short gold chain.

The design of the amulet made it look like a normal necklace.

As Baek was searching for an excuse for you to move on from the table without him, you spoke up to save him the trouble.

“If you’ll excuse me; I need to use the lady’s room.” You step away from the booth and move to the restroom.

Baek locks eyes with Shane and signals for the security guard to follow you. His gut feeling from last night never went away.

I need to keep her safe.

“I saw ye’ woman eying up this here pendant. Would ye’ like to take a look at it?” Baek felt no urge to correct the booth owner of his mistake.

“Yes, please.” The amulet is set in Baek’s hand. “What enchantments does it have?” Baek questions, admiring the shine of the stone.

“The stone has a varying protection enchantment with an increased perception addition. If an S-rank hunter such as yourself would wear this, you would get an S-rank amount of protection.” Baek’s eyes grow in shock from being recognized.

“Aye, I do know ye’. I got a list of all the guilds, worldwide! I’d be happy to expand my trade into Korea, Hunter Baek.” The man behind the booth continues his sales pitch.

“If yer’ woman were to wear this, she would only be protected from human threats.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. “The perception ability would increase her awareness to threats. That would be the most useful part for ye woman.” Yoonho Baek made the transaction with his personal card, thank the booth owner by exchanging business cards.

As you finish up using the bathroom, you fix your hair in the mirror. Today’s time at the convention took less time than yesterday. Mr. Baek knew what type of protection he was looking for today; yesterday he was looking at every weapon type.

Maybe you’ll have enough time to get ice cream tonight. Dairy Queen’s cupcake counds really good right now.

Your eyes catch movement by the closed door of the restroom. You turn around and look to see who was there, but there is no one.

These movements have been happening all day. It first started when you left your room this morning. The weird movements continued to stay in your peripheral vision while walking around the convention center.

You refrain from telling Mr. Baek, he seemed stressed enough as it is. His attitude hadn’t improved.

I don’t need to make him worry more about me. He has already done enough.

You try and shake the weird feeling as you return to Mr. Baek. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Shane following you.

You assume Mr. Baek told Stanley and Shane to follow you because of what happened with Alex and Tyler last night.

The four of you meet at the food court and get your dinners. Mr. Baek suggests taking the food to go and eat in your rooms.

You agree with your boss’s decision, but you wanted to spend some more time with him. He has been acting cold towards you all day.

Surely it wasn’t from something I did last night?

Regardless, you take your dinner (steak kebab with French fries on the side) and walk back to the room. Mr. Baek says in front of you while Shane and Stanley follow behind you.

As you unlock your room, a hand on your shoulder stops you from stepping inside.

“Wait. I got you the necklace you were looking at earlier.” Mr. Baek holds out a velvet sinched bag for you to take.

“You didn’t have to do that!” You exclaim, as Baek practically shoves the gift into your open hand.

“Please, I insist. Consider it an apology for what happened last night.” He shuffles back to give you space.

“The way you acted last night didn’t bother me at all. It was those men that sent me the creeps. And besides, they were fighting with you for the most part.” You shrug your shoulders, try to not make a big deal over what happened.

“But I shouldn’t have acted like such a dick in front of you. I especially shouldn’t have touched-“ Yoonho Baek was interrupted by his phone ringer.

He sighs and checks the caller id. Chairman Go.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry, I need to take this.” Yoonho’s guilt turns worse when you smile at him and usher him to his room.

“It’s okay, I understand. Enjoy your dinner!” You enter your room.

After you finish eating your dinner, you face time Jean to send her the documents you received today.

Your rhythm is the same. You focus on scanning documents, Jean focuses on setting you up with your boss or asking inappropriate questions about the man.

Eventually, you get done with your job and say good night to Jean.

You had enough time to get some ice cream.

You glance at the bag holding your gifted necklace, debating on putting it on.

Deciding against it, you pull on your coat and text your boss for the business card to get ice cream.

Yoonho replies, saying that Shane already has the card, and to go with him.

So you do. You both venture from the hotel and walk to the Dairy Queen a block away. The brisk air almost deters you from getting your sweet, but you power through for the nostalgia.

Waiting in line for your ice cream was short, but you received many questioning looks.

Probably because of the man who looks like secret service beside you.

You successfully secure your ice cream and make the cold trek back to the hotel. You take note of any interesting stores along the way, just incase you get some time during the day too look around.

Once you arrive back at the hotel, Shane escorts you to your room, leaving you to devour your sweet treat.

You savor the flavor as you watch a random movie on the tv. The nostalgia floods your memories, bringing you back to the days when your family was alive.

You got your sweet tooth from your dad, who would always find an excuse to have something sweet. Your mom was a bit more health conscious, but she couldn’t say no to ice cream.

Dairy Queen knew your order by heart when they would hear your young voice through the drive through speakers.

You tear up at the happy memories.

I miss my family. I wish they were here now, maybe they could visit me if they were alive.

Shaking your head, you clear the negative thoughts.

Once you finish your ice cream, you throw away the container.

You want to get showered, but the necklace bag catches your eyes.

Maybe you’ll put it on, see how it feels.

You pull the delicate chain from the velvet bag and feel its weight on your palm.

This is too much.

You unclasp the chain and place the necklace on yourself.

Turning to the mirror, you look at your appearance.

The purple crystal sits in the middle of your chest, just below the hollow of your neck. You like the way it looks. The gold chain and decorative metal around the crystal complement your skin tone.

Like it or not, the necklace looks good on you.

That still doesn’t justify Mr. Baek spending money on me. Even if it is just an apology gift.

You decide to keep the necklace on until you get undressed for your shower.

As you are sitting your pajamas out on your bed, you suddenly feel a cold chill run down your spine.

There is no AC running or windows open.

Your head whips around as you look around your room.

An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.

You try and shake off the feeling as you move into the bathroom to start your shower.

You trust your gut and check the closet in your room and under the sink in your bathroom.

No one is in my room. I’m just paranoid.

You turn on the water for your shower and leave the bathroom, letting the water heat up.

Moving into the main room, you go to pick up your pjs when you hear it.

The latch on your door just shut.

Your head whips to the door, your heart is racing.

I got back to my room 30 minutes ago. I know I shut my door and it locked because Shane did it for me.

What the fuck is going on?

You walk towards the door slowly.

Step by step the feeling of dread in your stomach increases along with your heart rate.

The voice in your head is screaming for you to get out of your room.

Your hand rests on the handle and you jiggle it.

Yeah, it’s shut. Maybe I’m going insane?

The gut feeling keeps getting worse, but you shake it off.

You turn to go back into the bathroom and that’s when you see it.

The movement that you have been seeing all day.

It’s in your room.

Your hand immediately goes back to the door handle and you wrench it open as you feel something brush against your back.

Slamming your door shut, you sprint to Mr. Baek’s door and start slamming your fist against the wood.

Seconds later Yoonho Baek is standing in front of you, concern written all over his face.

You get flustered by his appearance and forget how to talk for a second.

Mr. Baek has a very short towel around his waist, water dripping from his hair and down his chest.

He says your name, a hand cupping your flushed face.

“Someone is in my room.” As you say those words, you watch as your bosses eyes turn bright yellow and he turns to face your room.

“I’ve been seeing movement out of the corner of my eye all day and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to be more of a hassle than I already am and –“ Yoonho stops your rambling by pushing you into his room.

“Stay here. Don’t open the door unless it’s me. Throw the dead bolt.” His left hand grips the towel tighter around his waist as he moves to your room.

Listening to your boss, you quickly move into his room and slam the dead bolt locked.

Seconds later you hear the sound of your door slamming open, the percussion echoing through your room.

You pace the room, your hands running through your hair as you listen to the painful grunts and shouts entering through the walls.

It’s a small chance that Mr. Baek is on the receiving end of those blows, but you still worry since it is a chance.

The grunts turn to whimpers until you can no longer hear the commotion.

A knock sounds at the door and you run over to look through the peep hole.

Mr. Baek is standing there, his chest heaving.

Your hands move the dead bolt and open the door. Baek is quick to move inside. You immediately notice the blood speckled across Yoonho’s face and chest.

Both of his hands cup your face and then quickly move to feel both of your arms and legs.

“He didn’t touch you, did he? Are you hurt?” His yellow eyes scan your body, looking for any injury.

“N-no. I felt something brush m-my back when I ran out of my room.” Your body is shaking from the adrenaline rush, your vocal cords are no exception.

“I dealt with him. Security will handle him where I left off. From now on, you’re staying with me, got it?” Yoonho cups your face, making sure you make eye contact with him.

“Understood.” He nods his head, taking in your shaking body when his eyes land on the pendant.

“Don’t take off this pendent. Ever. It saved your life.” He touches the purple stone, his hand resting on your chest.

“Oh, okay.” Your body continues to shake and your teeth chatter, breaking Yoonho’s train of thought.

“I’ll get your things. Wait here.” Your boss moves out the door again, the towel sagging low on his waist.

If it weren’t for the shock of what just happened, you would be taking in the sight more.

Mr. Baek returns with your bags and all of your clothes in a few minutes. He sets all of your things along side his own on top of the desk.

“Go shower, I need to make sure things are taken care of.” Mr. Baek ushers you into the bathroom with your toiletries and pajamas.

You spend a long time under the hot water. Eventually your body stopped shaking and exhaustion hit you all at once.

Stepping out of the shower, you dress in your pj’s and brush your teeth.

You walk out of the bathroom to see your boss sitting on the bed, typing furiously on his phone.

He looks up as you approach the bed. You notice his eyes finally shift back to their normal red.

Yoonho stands and you noticed that he changed into a pair of shorts.

“I’m sorry, but the hotel staff is dealing with the broken door and can’t get a separate bed in here tonight.”

“I don’t mind sharing a bed.” You hum as you move to the other side of the bed.

“Oh, okay.” You lay down in bed, pulling up the covers.

You’re eyes are heavy as you lull into a deep sleep.

The last thing you remember is a heavy warmth slipping around your waist.

Chapter 6

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

heheheheheheh…… 😈😈😈

IF YOU SUBMITTED AN ASK IM SORRY BUT I SCROLLED DOWN AND I THINK THIS WAS MY OLDEST??? idk but i wanna do it from oldest to newest so as not to let anybody die from boredom as they wait eons and eons for my fics to come out LMAO

but here it isssss

Jealous Encounters

————————————————————————

“Last one.”

The woman’s voice is commanding, yet kind as she snaps the last photo of Lyra, Brady, Rohan, Savannah, and, as the photographer called him, Grayson, the “big intrigue”. After the first phase of the game, the remaining contestants were expected to do one small photoshoot, just to give paparazzi something to “chew on” as the game commences.

Alisa’s words, certainly not Lyra’s.

Lyra walked towards the exit, feeling both silly and uncomfortable in her all white outfit that the contestants all had to match in. But, as Grayson told her, it was just 5 photos.

Speaking of Grayson, he had went off to speak with Alisa about 5 minutes ago and hadn’t returned. Where was he?

Not that Lyra was entirely concerned. He’s an adult, Lyra told herself, and it’s not like he belongs to you, so don’t try and put a leash on him.

Still, her eyes made a quick search across the room and was disappointed when she saw the other contestants, Avery, Xander, Nash, and the photographer, but not him. Lyra’s shoulders tensed slightly.

“Looking for someone?” Lyra jumped slightly as a teasing voice spoke up from beside her. She turned her head to see Jameson Hawthorne and his cheshire cat grin staring back at her. Lyra couldn’t help the slightest sneer from making its way onto her lips.

“No.” she said, turning away. Frustration pulled in her chest, but Lyra reminded herself that being petty towards the Hawthorne’s would get her nothing, that Jameson Hawthorne was merely curious.

But somehow, whenever he became curious towards Lyra, it was only where Grayson was involved. He gave a mere shrug.

“Just checking.” he said, the smile still on his face. Then he pulled a little folded up sheet of paper out of his sleeve.

“I know Alisa said that this photoshoot was going to be it for PR until the game commences, but she had one last favour to ask of you.” Jameson said, handing the folded up sheet to Lyra. Lyra’s brows furrowed as she unfolded the paper and read its contents. Then, in the span of about 10 seconds, her jaw dropped.

“She’s making us run errands?” Lyra sneered, casting her thunder-stricken gaze upon Jameson. Jameson took a step backwards, lifting his hands up in defense.

“Her orders, not mine. And it’s just so we can finish up this whole for-the-press-photoshoot as quickly as possible.” he replied, and Lyra could tell that he was trying his best not to laugh. Lyra herself was trying her best not to scream at him, but yelling at a game master generally wasn’t the smartest idea.

“Go to editing room and tell the temp. “Alisa said send them out tonight?”” Lyra gritted out, reading the note. Jameson shrugged. She gave him a dead stare.

“Why,” she said, speaking slowly so as not to lose her temper, “does she need me to do this?” Jameson looked like he was holding back a smile, just barely, and Lyra’s stare only got deadlier.

“We were cutting it close on time when it came to these photoshoots, so the editing team needs to be done with the photos tonight.” he explained. Lyra sighed, before stomping away from him. Screw Jameson Hawthorne and his lawyer, she thought stubbornly, as she made her way to the editing room.

Throwing the door open with more than a little annoyance, Lyra walked inside, before calling out. “Temp?” Was all she said, frustration clear in her voice.

“That’s me.” Came an oddly familiar male voice. Lyra turned her head to the side, and her eyes widened immediately.

Any anger from before had been replaced with shock, because standing there, fidgeting slightly with a pen, was Brandyn, her ex from high school.

Lyra’s mind screamed a stream of curses.

But Lyra herself just gave a tight-lipped and confused smile.

“Brandyn?” she asked. He smiled back.

“Lyra. I was wondering how you’ve been doing these past few years.” he replied. Lyra tried her hardest not to make a face. It was hard to view Brandyn with a positive outlook, even when she knew he didn’t treat her all bad.

He gave her chocolates and flowers.

He’d lay under the stars with her and they’d talk about anything they liked.

He treated her decently… in private.

But in public? It was like he hardly knew her. Everybody was shocked when Lyra said she started dating him in late freshman year.

And yet the relationship ended before sophomore year even started.

He was simply too cold to her in front of others. He made her keep the relationship a secret for weeks on end, wouldn’t post her on any social media, and let his friends talk about her in terrible ways.

That last one is how she knew their relationship wasn’t saveable.

Lyra and her friends had been in the library one day, when she overhead Brandyn talking to his best friend, Jonah. Lyra hated Jonah, but Brandyn always reassured her that he was actually a really nice person.

Which, of course, was a lie, because the things he said about Lyra to Brandyn were disgusting.

He talked about the size of her thighs, her “cockiness”, and how he felt sorry for Brandyn that he had to settle for her. And what did Brandyn do?

He laughed. Not only that, but he agreed.

And that was the end of that.

“Lyra?” Brandyn’s voice brought her back to the present, and Lyra couldn’t stop a hard look from entering her eyes as she looked at him. That always happened when she got defensive.

He was about to say something else, probably about how they should “catch up sometime soon”, when Lyra cut him off.

“Alisa wanted me to tell you that the photos needed to be sent out tonight.” Lyra said. Her voice wasn’t angry, miraculously, but instead cold. Detached. And Lyra was glad for it. But still, Brandyn tilted his head at her.

“You’ve changed quite a bit. I mean, you really matured.” He told her. Lyra froze. Matured? Lyra faked a laugh.

“Was I not mature before?” she asked him. Brandyn laughed back.

“You were, but you’ve just grown.” he replied. Then he fixed his gaze on her, his eyes intruding. “And you’ve definitely gotten prettier.”

Lyra’s stomach dropped at those 5 words.

She did not want to be seen as pretty by a guy like Brandyn. She didn’t want to be seen by him at all. Brandyn was, in a word, pathetic, and she needed to get out of this room before he tried to restart whatever shit relationship they had dropped in freshman year.

Lyra was about to spew some excuse about how she “forgot that Alisa had something urgent to tell her once she came back”, when the door to the editing room suddenly opened.

Lyra turned around and saw Grayson walk in. She let out a breath.

“Lyra, Avery and Alisa need us to print out the before photos to compare and contrast.” Grayson deadpanned. Something about his tone told Lyra that he too didn’t like being sent out on these errands. Lyra took a step towards him, and, although she didn’t want to admit it, felt relieved that he was there. Brandyn was starting to tip-toe to subjects that Lyra didn’t want to reach, subjects about relationships, and Lyra needed somebody by her.

Especially if that somebody was Grayson.

She felt her stomach start to untwist as she walked closer to him. “Alright,” Lyra said with a half shrug. Her shoulders tensed one last time when she turned around to face Brandyn again.

“Bye, Brandyn.” Lyra said, not wanting to give him any false promises of “catching up soon” when that was the last thing in the world she wanted to do. He gave her a smile, too wide for her liking, and stared at her with those eyes of his that hung on her and followed her every movement. A lump grew in Lyra’s throat.

“See ya, Lyra.” Brandyn said. Lyra folded her arms over her stomach as she walked away, trying her best to make her face unreadable. And yet when she looked at Grayson, she knew he could see right through her. He held the door open for her, and Lyra walked out of the room, faster than she had ever walked out of a room in her life.

She kept a quicker pace than Grayson, but his legs were longer than Lyra’s, so he caught up immediately. They stayed silent at first as they walked side by side, and it was like that all the way down each and every single hall, until they reached an office. Grayson opened the door for her, before walking in himself and shutting the door behind him. Lyra let out a breath once she realized that Grayson must not have noticed the awkward tension between her and Brandyn, before he spoke.

“Brandyn.” he said suddenly. Lyra froze, her hand just about to reach out to the printer.

“Hm?” she said, turning around to look at him. Grayson wasn’t looking at her, as he typed something up on the computer in the office. His voice was as simple as possible, but his expressions were anything but that.

Grayson’s jaw was taut; every muscle im his face was rigid and currently hard as stone, and when Grayson typed, his movements were quick and borderline aggressive. Lyra raised a brow at him, curiosity rising in her.

“You’re on first name basis with the temp?” He said, his voice still in that detached and simple tone. Lyra looked away from him.

“We knew each other in high school. We were…” she trailed off. She really didn’t want to talk about what her and Brandyn were. “Friends.” Her words sounded lame and like a lie to her own ears, but Lyra didn’t care.

“But you don’t like him.” Grayson said. Something about his words seemed less like an observation, and more like an order. Lyra turned to him again.

“What?” She said, her brows furrowing. He finally looked at her.

“You don’t like him. And I’d be willing to bet on the fact that you hate him. Why?” He repeated, raising a brow at her. Lyra looked away again, pretending to press the buttons on the printer when Grayson hadn’t even sent the files to the printer yet.

“He’s just….” she trailed off, swallowing. “He’s an ex. From high school.” Out of the corner of her eye, Grayson went oddly still. Stiller than she’d ever seen him. But only for a moment, before his fingers were typing again.

“Ah.” Was all he said. But she could tell his mind was elsewhere. She turned to him.

“What is it, Grayson?” Lyra asked him, placing her hands on her hips. He glanced at her, and Lyra told herself that she was just imagining the way his gaze trailed over the hands on her waist before snapping to her eyes.

“What is what?” he asked her curtly, the look from just a moment ago gone. She rolled her eyes.

“You have something to say, Hawthorne. So say it.” she continued, gesturing with her hands for him to go on. He finally kept his gaze on her, not going back and forth from the computer to her eyes, and just stared.

Being under Grayson Hawthorne’s gaze was a curse and a blessing all at once, as it made two different sides of her fight for victory; the reasoning voice in her head would be begging Lyra to interrupt the moment, to do anything to tear his eyes away from her, meanwhile the part of Lyra that made her feelings towards Grayson much more complicated told Lyra to hold her breath, to stay still, to drag the moment on longer so that Grayson could keep those icy blue eyes of his on her.

Lyra hated the latter because it always won.

Finally, after the moment dragged on longer and longer, Grayson stood up.

“What did this ‘Brandyn’ character do, exactly, to make you feel so uncomfortable around him?” he finally said. Lyra’s body tensed. So he had noticed. She faked nonchalance. (Authors Note: yes i did write that with a grin on my face and depending on who’s reading it (whoevers brain is rotted like mine) u probably read it with a grin on ur face 🤨🤨)

“He’s an ex, Grayson. I’m not going to act all buddy-buddy around him.” she explained, the lie vague but luckily quick. He walked towards her, crossing his arms in a gallant manner, of course.

“If you’re going to lie, at least come up with a more believable one.” he told her. Lyra’s shoulders slumped slightly, and she gave him a look.

“Well… he was just an ass. That’s all.” she explained, looking away.

“That’s all?” he asked.

“That’s all.”

There was silence, and Lyra thought that was the end of it as he finally walked back over to the computer and clicked something. Lyra turned to the printer once she heard a beep, and realized she finally received the file from Grayson containing the pictures. She began to print it, when he spoke again.

“Lyra.” Was all he said, his voice taking on a tone she had never heard before. It was Grayson’s same swift way of speaking—except there was an edge to it. Lyra turned to him. He turned to her, and walked over to her. He was a mere couple of inches away from her in just 2 paces.

“I won’t ask you for anything, and if I can promise you this, I swear I never will again.” he started, his head dipped as he looked at her with an intensity that seemed to be radiating off his entire body. “But you just need to tell me this one thing.” Lyra was shocked. She didn’t expect him to care this much.

“Why does it matter?” she asked him, avoiding the question, as well as his eyes. His pupils dilated.

“It matters.” Was all he said. Lyra’s gaze snapped back to his, her chest rising and falling with every second that they spent staring, before finally speaking.

“We dated late freshman year.” she started. “I didn’t know him too well, but I had heard from some girls in my science class that he liked me. We started talking, and after that, began to date. It wasn’t too bad at first. It was sweet. He brought me flowers and chocolates on my birthday. But afterwards…” Lyra reminded herself she needed to get through this story as quickly as possible. The quicker she finished, the less time Grayson spent silently scheming against Brandyn in his head.

“Afterwards, he was cold. Distant. And, pretty clearly, embarrassed of me.” Lyra continued, shrugging. “One day, I was with my friends in the library when I overheard Brandyn talking to his best friend. The things they said about me…. well, they were pretty disgusting. Brandyn’s friend kept commenting on my legs, how he thought they were fat, that I was fat, and that Brandyn “must have been going crazy when he decided to date me because, after seeing my body, nobody in the right mind would ever even come close to me.” And Brandyn didn’t defend me. He didn’t say a single word in my defense. All he did was laugh, and say, “You’re so right”.” Lyra went still, and saw that Grayson did too. She said too much. All she could have said was that Brandyn’s friend talked shit about her and she was done with his behaviour. But instead, she told him things that, aside from the girls who were with her at the library, nobody else knew.

But when she looked at Grayson, there was no embarrassment, or awkwardness in his eyes. Only a quiet rage.

“Did you believe it?” he asked her. “What his friend said—did you believe it?” Lyra looked down.

“I wasn’t even 16 yet. People at that age can be easily influenced.” Lyra said, turning her head away from him so that Grayson wouldn’t see how badly those words had stung, how they clung to her skin for weeks and made her feel repulsive each and every time she even glanced at a mirror. But she knew that Grayson would be able to read every thought of hers with or without seeing her face, so she turned to him and gave his angry eyes a firm shake of her head.

“Don’t, Grayson.” she told him firmly, latching a hand onto his arm to capture his attention. His eyes flung to hers immediately, the anger in them having subsided slightly, yet was still there.

“Don’t what?” he bit out, his voice tittering on a dangerous edge. She narrowed his eyes at him.

“Don’t plan his downfall in your head. It was the ninth grade. And besides, he didn’t say that. His friend did.”

“But he agreed.” Grayson rebuked, and Lyra could see him trying to grapple with a calm feeling that he in no way looked. She gave him a look.

“Grayson. I’ll admit, he makes me a little bit uncomfortable now. But I know better than to hold somebody accountable for their actions from when they were barely 15. Let this go,” she told him. “Please.”

Grayson’s eyes widened slightly at her plead, and his jaw tensed. In fact, every muscle in his body looked tense and terribly rigid. There was utter silence for a good 10 seconds, before Grayson gave a slight nod, and, with rigid movements, walked back over to the computer. Lyra let out a sigh as she watched Grayson rip a piece of paper out of his pocket with aggressive movements. Someone’s still not over it, she thought. Then she watched him unfold the paper, read it’s contents, and start typing again. Lyra frowned.

“More orders from Alisa?” Lyra asked Grayson, desperate to change the topic and curious as to what he was doing. He glanced at her.

“Unfortunately.” he said. Lyra watched him type, wanting to interrupt the silence but also not wanting to address why the silence was even there in the first place. She didn’t understand why Grayson was getting so worked up over it—why he would hit the keys on the keyboard much more aggressively than usual, why the silent anger in his eyes was so prominent, why those eyes of his only got darker and angrier every time she mentioned Brandyn’s name. It just didn’t make sense.

Lyra turned around to sort through the papers that had been printing, arranging them from which one she remembered to have been taken of her first to the one she remembered to have been taken of her last. The topic of Brandyn was almost forgotten.

Almost.

“Lyra.” Grayson’s voice was so sudden, so sharp, that Lyra didn’t expect it. She turned to him.

“Yes?” she asked him. He didn’t meet her gaze.

“This…. Brandyn.” Grayson spoke his name with so much disdain that Lyra had to hold back a snort. “What made you even like him in the first place, considering his cowardly choices?” Lyra’s eyes narrowed, and she walked over to Grayson. He had his head hung, his eyes glued onto the computer as he did a half-crouch in front of it. Lyra stopped a mere few inches away from him, ignoring the tingling feeling that was settling in her stomach, and gave him a look from where she was standing. Grayson, having finally looked at her, stood up as well, regaining some height on her. He dipped his head down to meet her gaze the same way she was lifting her head up to meet his.

“Why does this matter to you Grayson?” she demanded, jabbing a finger at him. He crossed his arms, and Lyra crossed hers, raising a brow at him with a facial expression that could only be interpreted as go on, Hawthorne. He held her gaze.

“I don’t like him,” he finally admitted in a low voice. Lyra’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t like how he treated you, and I don’t like how he continues to treat you. And anyway, I’m just curious I suppose.” He gave a half shrug, but there was nothing simple about the movement. Lyra’s mind hung on a part of his sentence.

“How he…. continues to treat me?” she repeated, meeting Grayson’s gaze. “What do you mean?” Grayson looked caught off guard for the slightest moment, before his expressions became neutral and much more dangerous. He stayed silent for a moment, before his facial expression shifted, turning into something unreadable.

“Do you see how he looks at you?” Grayson asked her. Lyra did see how he looked at her, but just gave him a small shake of her head. His jaw tightened.

“He looks at you like you’re just an object he can possess at any given time. Like you’re always going to be an option for him, and he can treat you however he wants because of it. I saw that look in his eyes. He thinks of you a certain way, and because of your… history with him, you must think of him the same.” Grayson said, his voice low with hostility and something else, something distant. “Isn’t that right?” Lyra froze. Maybe she hadn’t really had the time to think about it…. but that was right. That, combined with how his friend had talked about her a couple years back, was why she was so uncomfortable around him. She met his eyes, and she didn’t even have to say a word before he was nodding, like he saw how she knew he was right. He turned to the computer again.

“Now, my question remains unanswered: what was the appeal, Lyra?” he asked her, the hostility in his voice gone. Lyra bristled.

“Back to making demands, are you?” she asked, her tone thick with pettiness. He looked at her, the look full of annoyance. Lyra returned it. Then, he sighed.

“Please.” he deadpanned. Lyra glared at him, but spoke nonetheless.

“I don’t know, Grayson. He was sweet, and he cared for me.” Lyra explained. Grayson froze, before slowly meeting her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he asked her, his voice cold and annoyed, “but did you just say you dated Brandyn because he was sweet and cared for you?” Lyra’s temper flared.

“I did. What about it?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips. Grayson gave her a blank stare.

“Those are pretty entry level requirements to dating somebody.” He gritted out, his patience clearly running out. Lyra threw her hands up in the air, as hers was as well.

“Well, that doesn’t make it any less meaningful. I know he’s an ass now. But at the beginning of the relationship, he was kind. And yes, he did care for me. Where else would I find that kind of affection as a 15 year old?” she asked him. Grayson gave her an unimpressed look.

“Perhaps from a house pet? Or a bank teller? He gave you the bare minimum and lower, Lyra.” he said, crossing his arms. Lyra rolled her eyes, but she knew he was right. Brandyn did treat her terribly, and was only decent to her at times she viewed as the “height of their relationship”.

“Well don’t you have a lot to say about my relationships.” Lyra said, looking away so he didn’t see the shame written on her face. She thought he was about to say something, when a text message notification sounded from his phone. He went to check it, and his jaw tightened.

“Alisa wants you to deliver the photographs to the temp.” he said, disdain dripping into his voice at those last two words. Lyra took the printed photos, squaring her shoulders and mentally preparing herself to survive another encounter with Brandyn, when Grayson stood up.

“I can deliver them for you.” Grayson told her cooly, yet something about his tone told Lyra that that was less of a suggestion and more of an order. Lyra gave him a look.

“No, Grayson.” she said. He raised a brow.

“Why not?” he asked. She huffed.

“Because you’re going to hold how he treated me in the ninth grade against him.” Grayson paused.

“I might. But only if he starts acting like an ass, which, from what I’ve seen and heard, won’t take long.” he reasoned. Lyra crossed her arms, striding up to him.

“For some reason, I don’t believe that.” she told him. Grayson raised a brow at her, stepping closer and sending shivers down Lyra’s spine from just the way his eyes held hers and how he was backing her closer and closer to the wall behind her. She let her eyes drift to his lips—but only for a second.

She’d kissed those lips before. And she hated how much she’d liked it.

“Well, it’s what he deserves.” Grayson said in a low voice. If he’d noticed the way Lyra’s eyes had previously darted to his lips, he didn’t comment on it. Lyra pressed her lips into a thin line to stop her brains crude thoughts.

“Why can’t you just let it go?” she asked him. The question was getting repetitive, but she needed to know. And, as the moment dragged on longer and longer, she really needed to know. He stepped closer to her, his face a mere few inches away from hers. His pupils dilated at the movement, and he tilted his head downwards more to meet her gaze. There was silence, before finally he spoke.

“Because nobody gets to treat you like how he treated you.” he spoke, the words low and quiet. Lyra couldn’t hide the slightest look of shock from tainting her features, and she prayed that he couldn’t hear her heart that was currently thumping out of her chest. Now her back was fully pressed against the wall. Breathe, Lyra, one side of her mind instructed her, whereas the other seemed to be repeating Come a little closer Grayson like a mantra.

Her cheeks flushed once she realized she was staring.

She knew she had to say something, so she spoke.

“Nobody, hm?” Lyra said, bringing her face even closer to his. She didn’t know what she was doing; it was like an unholy force had taken over her, as she took a hand and brought it to rest on his shoulder. Grayson’s pupils dilated at the touch, and his hands flexed at his sides before he stilled them. She glanced at them before her eyebrows raised slightly. There was something self restraining about Grayson’s movement, and Lyra realized that he was trying to be in control.

But this time, instead of him constantly trying to control a narrative, Lyra realized he was trying to keep himself under control.

Lyra met his gaze, her heart thumping in her chest at her prior realization. Suddenly Lyra was moving, her face coming closer to his with slow, hesitant movements, and Grayson came even closer, almost closing the space between them. Finally letting his hands unclench, he pulled her forward, and before Lyra could realize what was going on, he was kissing her. It was everything like their last kiss, but at the same time, it was nothing like their last kiss. The desire was still there, telling Lyra to deepen the kiss, to drag the moment on longer, but then there was something else, something rawer that came in the feeling of a deep and aching want. She didn’t know how badly she wanted to kiss Grayson Hawthorne until she was doing it. They separated for a moment, Grayson pulling back to look at Lyra with eyes a dark thundercloud grey, before Lyra wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down to her lips.

She knew this was wrong. She knew that he was a Hawthorne, and she was somebody who couldn’t and shouldn’t be affiliated with a Hawthorne. But her pounding heart was blocking out any and all of those thoughts as Grayson deepened the kiss, pressing Lyra’s back against the wall as he did. Suddenly, he was sliding kisses down her jaw, before his lips were moving to the space below her ear and he-

Both Lyra and Grayson froze as the door to the office opened.

Lyra’s eyes focused on the person in the doorway, and she had to physically hold back a groan when she realized who it was. Brandyn.

Grayson was about to step away from her, when Lyra grabbed his collar and pulled his lips back down to hers. Grayson seemed hesitant, before Lyra muttered the word “Brandyn”, and then he was kissing her back, sliding his hands down her shoulders to grip her waist. With every brush of his lips, Lyra was no longer sure if she had kissed Grayson Hawthorne to scare Brandyn off, or if she had kissed him because kissing Grayson Hawthorne was addicting.

A part of Lyra was sure it was the latter.

After a moment, the door to the office reopened, before shutting again.

Lyra counted in her head the amount of time it took Grayson to separate. 7 beats, and then his lips were parting from hers, and he lifted his head to look at her.

Lyra had never wanted to be able to see images in her head as badly as she did now, to cherish and hold to memory Grayson’s now tousled hair, his dilated pupils, the bit of Lyra’s lipstick that was smeared on the corner of his lip. Lyra brought her finger to it, and wiped her lipstick off his lips before meeting his gaze again. Her chest was heaving like she’d ran, and Grayson’s was doing the same, except Grayson was trying much harder to fake the idea that he was still in control, like he hadn’t lost himself earlier with every brush of his lips on Lyra’s.

She’d felt it then, and she knew that Grayson knew she felt it now.

There was silence for another couple of moments, before Grayson spoke.

“Seems like that temp is going to keep his distance from now on.” Grayson said, giving her a thrill once she heard how husky and deep his voice was. Lyra’s lips pulled themselves into the slightest smile.

“I mean, we did scare him off.” Lyra said, tilting her head at him. He gave her a smile, one that was wolfish and teasing and oh so gorgeous that Lyra’s heart stopped. She was about to say something, when Grayson got a text. He checked his phone, before the smile broadened. Lyra was caught off guard; Grayson smiling a smile like the one he currently had on his face was a surprise, but certainly not the bad kind.

“Temp’s gone on break, send the photos to Landon.” he read out. Lyra couldn’t hold back a laugh. They really had scared him off. She grabbed the photos from atop the printer and held them out to Grayson, holding his eyes.

“You’ll do the honours?” she asked him, the tingling in her lips still present. He looked at her, and Lyra knew she would be content to just have him give her those looks all day long. They were addicting for reasons that Lyra wasn’t quite sure of. Then he took the papers from her, his fingers brushing hers with an electricity that coursed through her body.

He kept his eyes on her as he spoke, and Lyra could hardly even remember a time where Brandyn had existed.

“With pleasure.”

————————————————————————

ummmm this was so long im sorry LMAO but damnnn i loved this request thank u sm @haniya1234 for sending the ask!!!

[gojomyshayla]

Gojo x senior!reader

Warning: rotten fluff. slight angst (nothing serious) gojo got hurt:((. Gojo being a menace for society

Starring: second year! Gojo. Senior!fem!reader. Other characters like second year!geto and second year! Shoko

Summary: Gojo Satoru is a lovesick junior hopelessly chasing after his beautiful, tsundere senior. When a mission nearly kills him, she finally shows her softer side—proving that maybe, just maybe, she loves him too.

(The picture belongs to the rightful owner)

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Jujutsu High had seen its fair share of curses, battles, and absurd antics, but nothing—nothing—was as relentless as Gojo Satoru’s love for you.

"You think if I die in battle, she'd finally notice me?" Gojo dramatically slumped over his desk, his blindfold askew as he peeked at Geto Suguru and Shoko Ieiri for sympathy.

"Try actually doing your homework first," Geto sighed, flipping a page of his book.

"Or better yet, try shutting up," Shoko added, lighting up a cigarette.

Despite his endless charm, wit, and undeniably good looks, you—(L/N) (Y/N), Jujutsu High’s top senior—remained completely oblivious to his suffering. Or at least, that's what everyone thought.

You weren’t completely clueless. You knew Gojo Satoru had an annoying habit of hovering around you like a particularly persistent mosquito, popping up in your training sessions, stealing your snacks, and dramatically professing his love at the worst possible times.

What you didn't understand was why your heart always skipped a beat when he did.

It all started when Gojo was just a first-year, wide-eyed, cocky, and irritatingly charming. The moment he laid eyes on you— the stunning, intelligent, and way out of his league second-year—he was done for.

The problem? You had no idea.

Or at least, you pretended not to notice.

From the very beginning, Gojo trailed behind you like a lovesick puppy. He would “accidentally” bump into you in the hallways, dramatically declare his love during sparring sessions, and shamelessly follow you around campus.

You tolerated it, mostly because it was impossible to take him seriously. He was ridiculous, infuriating, and somehow… endearing.

“Senpai!” Gojo had whined during one of your early interactions, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “What’s it going to take for you to fall in love with me?”

You gave him a deadpan stare. “A miracle.”

He grinned. “Good thing I’m Gojo Satoru. Miracles are my specialty.”

You rolled your eyes and walked away, but even then, you were fighting back a small smile.He made it almost impossible for you to find any boyfriend, he would just scare away any boy who would linger a little too much for his liking 

---

The first thing you saw when you walked into the classroom was Gojo sprawled across your desk, arms stretched dramatically, blocking any chance of you sitting down.

“Satoru,” you sighed. “Move.”

He peeked up from under his blindfold, a teasing grin stretching across his face. “Say ‘please’ first.”

You placed your hands on your hips, trying to look stern. It was impossible when he was looking at you like that—like you hung the moon and stars just for him.

“I’m going to count to three—”

Gojo immediately sat up, throwing his arms around himself. “Oh no, I’m so scared! What will my beautiful, terrifying senpai do to me?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “ utahime is right .You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you love me.”

You reached out, flicking his forehead lightly. “I tolerate you.”

Geto and Shoko, who had been watching the entire exchange from their seats, exchanged a look.

“She’s getting softer,” Shoko noted, exhaling smoke.

“Yeah,” Geto agreed. “It’s terrifying.”

--------

Studying was supposed to be peaceful. It was not—at least not when Gojo Satoru was involved.

You were flipping through a book, minding your own business, when you felt something lightly tap your cheek. You looked up to see Gojo twirling a candy wrapper between his fingers.

“What do you want?” you asked, already exasperated.

“Your attention,” he said shamelessly, scooting closer. “Also, I’m bored.”

“You could read,” you suggested, turning back to your book.

“You could kiss me,” he countered.

You choked. “Excuse me?”

Gojo laughed at your reaction, leaning back lazily. “It’s a valid suggestion.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Try it and you’re getting thrown out of the library.”

“But senpai,” he whined, tilting his head cutely. “You’d really throw me out? Even after I brought you this?”

He held up a small bag of your favorite snacks. You stared at it, eyes sparkling.but you did not forgot he is gojo satoru, of course he wants something in return “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Just wanna see you smile,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart melted just a little.

“Fine. Give me the snacks.”

"Give me a kiss first~.”

You huffed but relented. “Please, Satoru.”

"Kiss kiss~"

You let out a sigh and stood on your tip toes to give him a kiss.....on his cheeks of course 

Gojo grinned like he won the lottery and handed them over.his cheeks on fire

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he teased.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

But Gojo heard it. And judging by the way his smile widened, you had just made his entire week.

----

“Senpai~” Gojo whined, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “Can I have a bite?”

You sighed, looking down at the dango skewer in your hand. “Why? You literally bought your own.”

“Yeah, but yours looks better.”

“…It’s the same thing, Satoru.”

He leaned down, giving you a playful pout. “But it tastes better when you feed me.”

You huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but your cheeks warmed as you lifted a piece of dango to his lips. His grin widened before he bit into it, chewing happily.

Your heart fluttered. You quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“You’re so cute when you’re shy, Senpai.”

You groaned, nudging him with your shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.”

Gojo’s Daily Attempts at Flirting persisted.

“Satoru, get off my desk.”

“But it’s so comfy.”

“Satoru, give me back my notes.”

“Say ‘Satoru, you’re the most handsome, strongest, and most amazing

---

After a few days,Gojo had been sent on a mission—a “routine” mission, Yaga had said. It was supposed to be easy.

But when he returned—unconscious, bloody, his usually bright presence reduced to something eerily fragile—you felt something close to panic grip your chest.

You had never seen him like this. Satoru was supposed to be invincible.

For days, you refused to leave his side.

You held his hand when he tossed and turned in his fevered sleep, whispered reassurances when he flinched at invisible threats in his unconscious state. You wiped his brow, murmured soft scoldings about how reckless he was, how much he scared you.

And then—

“Senpai…?”

Your heart clenched as his hoarse voice reached your ears. His eyes, still hazy, locked onto yours.

“Satoru.” Relief flooded you so intensely that you squeezed his hand without thinking. “You’re awake.”

He blinked sluggishly, then gave you the faintest, sleepiest grin. “Am I dreaming?”

You frowned. “No, you idiot.”

He hummed, his fingers weakly curling around yours. “Feels like a dream. You’re taking care of me… holding my hand… being all soft…”

Your face burned. “Shut up and go back to sleep.”

Gojo chuckled, but the sound was weak. “Okay… but only if you promise to stay.”

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. “I’ll stay.”

His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “Good. ‘Cause I love you.”

You inhaled sharply. But instead of scolding him like usual, you brushed his hair back and whispered, “I know, Satoru. Now rest.”

--------

The moment Gojo made a full recovery, he was unstoppable.

“She held my hand, Suguru.”

Geto sighed, rubbing his temples. “Yes, Gojo. You’ve mentioned that—about a hundred times.”

“She stayed by my side.”

Shoko took a drag of her cigarette. “Tragic.”

“She whispered my name.”

Geto groaned. “Please stop.”

Gojo leaned back, hands behind his head, a dreamy look in his eyes. “You guys don’t get it. This is destiny. Our wedding is practically inevitable. Just think about our wedding, honeymoon, cute babies-"

Shoko snorted. “You’re delusional.”

“I am delusionally in love.”

Shoko laughed at his claim "like she you choose you" 

Gojo pouted "you two are not invited to our wedding"

Meanwhile, outside the room, you covered your burning face with your hands.

Maybe… just maybe, you were starting to feel the same

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[girlkisser13]

dating steven conklin would include

• steven is the boyfriend who is FULL of surprises, yet he’s predictably unpredictable. you can always sense when he's about to pull a stunt, but the exact nature of his antics remain a mystery.

• he'll go to great lengths to impress you, even if it means looking utterly ridiculous.

• steven insists on walking on the side of the sidewalk closest to the road. if you end up on that side, he will grab your hand and pull you next to him that way he's next to the road instead.

• WHEN HE KNOWS THE SIDEWALK RULE>>>

• as belly’s older brother, steven is inherently protective. you've witnessed his overprotectiveness with her and thought it couldn’t intensify, but you were mistaken.

• during conversations, if he disagrees with something you say, he will playfully shove you away with a full-on palm-over-the-face gesture to cut you off.

• steven is EXTREMELY competitive. his competitive nature will inevitably get on your nerves, but he likes to claim that it’s all a part of his charm.

• dating steven means becoming instant best friends with belly. she’s a sweetheart who treats you like family and includes you in all the conklin family activities.

• the two of you actually have regular hangouts without steven (he claims that he hates this, but he’s secretly happy that you get along with his sister so well).

• steven has a unique way of pulling you into his hugs— always by your shoulders first. his hugs are incredibly strong, often knocking the wind out of you, which never fails to make him laugh.

• in public, steven tends to treat you more like a friend, maintaining a platonic demeanor in front of others, but he's extra affectionate when you're alone together.

• friends in public, lovers in private >>>

• this man ADORES spoiling you and has an uncanny ability to pick up on even the subtlest hints, often surprising you with exactly what you wanted the next day. he deeply appreciates any thoughtful gesture, even if it’s just a bottle of his favorite drink (that’s half empty).

• steven has an insane habit of giving you nicknames that range from variations of your name to obscure inside jokes that only the two of you understand. it doesn’t matter if the nickname is embarrassing; he’ll use it freely in front of everyone, so be prepared.

• he will 100% call you pookie.

• while he's not the jealous type and is generally pretty secure with himself and your relationship, he can get overly involved if he suspects someone might be flirting with you.

• he’ll insert himself into the conversation, even if it’s clear he’s not welcome, and he might even go as far as to wrap his arm around the person and loudly declare how the two of you should be "best friends" because he "feels a connection." his over-the-top friendliness often makes the other person uncomfortable enough to leave.

• steven LIVES for making you laugh, even when you don’t want to (especially during arguments). his humor is his way of diffusing the tension, though he will eventually get serious to address the issue.

• when steven kisses you, he always takes the lead. he'll gently hold your face, guiding you to match his pace, and often hooks his thumb and forefinger around the shell of your ear, brushing past your hair to get as close as possible. <33

[fandoms-x-reader]

Role Model

Requested By: @mikudreamland

Oneshot

Summary: MC is a child who takes Mammon's tsundere nature at face value and believes he hates them. Mammon x Child!MC (platonically) Word Count: 945

Social cues were not something that children had a perfect grasp on. 

That was something that Mammon didn’t understand.

You were just a child. You didn’t know that when Mammon was putting on a tough act and calling you names there was a hidden message behind his words.

You had heard the others call him a “tsundere” but you weren’t even sure what that meant.

So, in your mind, you truly believed that Mammon hated you.

Mammon was desperate to be accepted by others and yet he refused to let others see him give the slightest bit of compassion.

Maybe he was afraid of looking weak. Maybe he was scared that the others would tease him for being kind.

After all, he was a demon.

What book or movie demonstrated a demon being a kind and caring creature?

He wouldn’t allow anyone to see the side of him that so desperately wanted to be exposed.

There were countless things done behind the scenes that he declined to take credit for.

Moments where his brothers would question his involvement, genuinely touched by the matter. But, Mammon would deny having any part of it.

And nothing changed when it came to you. 

As far as Mammon was concerned, this was how he always showed his affection for others. By doing things on the side and never letting his true feelings see the light of day.

You had been asking for a really special gift for a while now and Mammon had finally saved up enough money to buy it for you.

Yet, when you found it in your room one day, he claimed he had no idea how that wound up there and that you should ask Lucifer or Diavolo, doing his best to remove himself as a suspect from your mind.

Things like that tended to happen more often around you as Mammon tried to compete with his brothers to be your favorite role model.

But, because he never admitted to being kind to you, the only thing you saw was the way he teased you and called you things like “dummy”.

The way he claimed that he wouldn’t want to hang out with you and that the only reason he was doing so was because he would be in trouble with Lucifer if something bad happened to you when he was supposed to be watching you.

And it caused you to want to spend more time with his other brothers instead.

It was hard for you to think that Mammon didn’t like you because you really looked up to him.

Sure, he was awful with money and was always finding himself in trouble.

So, to believe that someone you looked up to so much couldn’t stand you made you feel really sad. 

But, he also was very laid-back and knew how to have fun.

He was light-hearted and while others would consider his tendency to not take things seriously annoying, it was perfect when spending time with a child.

And, with nowhere else to go, you ended up expressing those feelings to the other brothers.

They, of course, knew Mammon’s true feelings and attempted to explain his behavior to you. After all, they had a whole lifetime to adjust to him being a tsundere.

But, their words went in one ear and out the other.

How could you believe their claims about Mammon when you had never seen anything from him to back it up?

It wasn’t until Mammon saw how much closer you had grown to his other brothers that he realized something was wrong.

He tried to get you a gift to possibly persuade you away from his brothers, but you were completely uninterested in it. 

Mammon was truly at a loss for what to do.

He ended up sulking the next few days and when his brothers finally grew tired of it, they held an intervention during which they all but stated that Mammon was acting like a fool.

Satan explained that though they could see past his neutral facade, you were just a child who took his actions and words at face value.

Mammon was devastated by the news. He didn’t hate you or actually think that you were stupid.

It was a refreshing thing for Mammon - to feel accepted by someone. 

All of his brothers looked at him with disdain for his small flaws and sin.

But your innocence allowed you to look past all of that and see the person that he actually was.

And now he had ruined it because he hadn’t realized he was pushing you away.

After that conversation, he was determined to fix things and be your favorite role model.

It was a slow process, full of Mammon trying to completely change the way he went about things.

He would still buy you gifts, but he would own up to them, more afraid of you hating them than he was of anyone else judging them.

He would congratulate you for doing a good job on your school work and he would even offer to take you out for a treat as a reward.

As Mammon repaired the bond and the two of you got closer, the other brothers noticed that you really started to blossom.

For once in his life, Mammon felt responsible for someone’s life other than his own and he accepted that responsibility with open arms.

And in return, you also started to change Mammon.

He had gone to the casino less and less and even tried to pay off some debts to get out of some of the witches’ grasps.

When he put his mind to it, Mammon was an excellent role model.

[girl-named-matty]

Little morning - Life after Hogwarts

synopsis ✧ Being a parent wasn't exactly easy and Sebastian found that out the hard way after the birth of his first son--who was now two-years-old and they were also expecting another. But regardless, he loved being a father. But the biggest problem with having a pregnant wife? A little toddler who just so happens to be a big mummy's boy that tries to wake her up at any chance he gets.

tags ✧ Fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, like so much fluff you guys. Talks of pregnancy and babies (ofc), toddlers (thats a warning in itself haha), marriage, just all the domestic cutesy stuff we all love. .

word count ✧ 1.6k

a/n ✧ Just some random cute idea I got and I have been ITCHING to write Seb and Matty as parents. You've probably seen my other posts about their kids when they are older but I really wanted to do some of the younger stuff as well because the baby fever is strong rn and I need a outlet LOL.🥺 Hope you enjoy! xoxo

Sebastian Sallow severely underestimated how difficult being a parent would be and just how much sleep he would lose by being one as well. Sure, he knew kids were difficult, and his wife had told him countless stories of the kids she had nannied or worked with who were difficult, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the real deal.

Little Eleazar was just past two years old by now, and yes, he was an abnormally well-behaved child; he still was a toddler, and well—toddlers did toddler things.

But despite the lack of sleep, the rough days, and the struggle of learning how to be a first-time parent, it was all worth it. They loved their little boy, and they loved him just the way he was.

And apparently it was “so worth” it enough that Matty was now pregnant with their second child. Or at least in Sebastian’s words, it was “so worth” having another. Matty had always wanted a couple of children, so she was up for having a second, but Sebastian was definitely the one who pushed the idea to have another.

Hence why she was now seven months pregnant and dealing with a toddler. But thankfully, Sebastian was a very hands-on and involved dad, and it made it all so much easier. He was an amazing husband and father. (She couldn’t lie and say that wasn’t the reason why she considered a second.)

It was nearing seven am when Sebastian, who was half asleep, heard the little pitter-patter of footsteps nearing the bedroom door. They had moved Ele into a different room a couple of months ago so he could get used to sleeping without Mum and Dad, especially once the new baby was around. But almost every morning, like clockwork, he managed to climb out of his crib and sneak off to Mum and Dad's room.

Sebastian, immediately knowing who it was, sat up and rubbed his eyes. The little footsteps stopped right at the door, which meant the door needed to be opened. Eleazar wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the door handle and turn it, so usually Sebastian would have to do it himself since he was the first one up.

He could practically hear his son pouting on the other side of the door, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake up Matty, who was still peacefully sleeping.

He walked over to the door before opening it, looking down at his son. “Well, good morning,” he said, his voice still gravelly.

Eleazar quickly put his hands up, babbling a little to let his dad know that he wanted to be picked up. Sebastian leaned down and grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “You’re two years old; you gotta start using your words, buddy.” He softly encouraged. But it seemed like Ele was too tired to speak anyway since he was rubbing his eyes the moment he was up in his father's arms.

Sebastian sat back down in bed, Eleazar placed in between him and Matty. “If you’re going to be here, you gotta go back to sleep.” He said, trailing his knuckle against his son's chubby cheeks. Of course, he was only saying this to try and get more sleep himself, but when did toddlers ever listen to anybody?

Instead, Eleazar turned around, seeing that his mother was in bed. “Mummy,” he babbled with a big smile, crawling over to where she was sleeping.

Sebastian’s heart almost jumped out of his chest as he had to quickly grab his son and pull him away from his mother in order for him not to wake her up. She definitely needed more sleep. “Wait, wait, no, we can’t go to Mummy right now, okay? Mummy is sleeping.” Sebastian tried to explain.

However, Eleazar did not like being told no. Especially when it came to his mummy. The corner of his lips curled down, forming a little frown, and by the way his little bottom lip quivered, Sebastian could quickly tell that he was going to start crying.

Panicking a little more, Sebastian quickly grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He soothed. “We just can’t wake up Mummy right now; she’s resting.”

He knew Eleazar couldn’t understand a lick of what he was saying, but he hoped the tone of his voice would help calm him down. “Mummy is very tired, and she has little brother or sister to deal with too, okay?” He continued. “I can assure you that definitely isn’t easy.” He half mumbled under his breath with a chuckle. But that was more for his own amusement than an explanation.

Ele didn’t cry, but he looked up at his father with his big blue eyes that he had inherited from his mother, a pout still on his face. “Mummy.” He repeated, this time more determined.

Sebastian sighed, shifting to where he was now lying down with the child in his arms. “Mummy is asleep. Which is what you should be doing right now too. You’re still so young to be waking up this early.”

“No.”

Sebastian sighed again. He hated the fact that usually one of the first five words for children was usually no. It was helpful when they could communicate what they wanted, but it also happened to become their favorite word very quickly. Saying no to everything mummy or daddy needed them to do.

“Yes.”

“Mm-hm.” Eleazar shook his head, clearly conveying that he was saying no.

“What am I going to do with you?” He chuckled, pinching his son's cheeks.

But luckily for the both of them, Matty shifted a little, signaling that she was indeed finally awake. Ele quickly looked behind him, seeing his mother begin to wake up. A big smile instantly appeared on his face, and he slipped out of his dad's arms and immediately crawled over to his mother. He was a big mummy’s boy and always wanted to be with her.

When Matty felt two little hands on her arms, she chuckled, opening her eyes. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she said sweetly, the sleep still obvious in her voice.

Eleazar immediately plopped his full body weight onto his mother, giving her a big hug. She laughed, giving him a hug back before sitting up. She looked over at Sebastian and then back down to her son. “Something tells me you’ve been giving your father a little bit of a hard time.” She said, poking her son's little tummy.

“I’ll say,” Sebastian muttered. “Little bugger tried to wake you up the moment he got into bed.”

Matty smiled. “He just loves his mummy,” she cooed, shifting little Ele so she could have him comfortably against her.

Raising a toddler and being pregnant definitely wasn’t easy, but to Matty, it was worth it in the long run. Not all mornings did she wake up as nicely as she did now, but these mornings definitely helped and made up for the bad days.

“Well, thank you for letting me sleep in a little longer.” She said to Sebastian before leaning in for a quick good morning kiss from him. Sebastian smiled into the kiss, enjoying the attention from his wife. Sometimes that was scarce between work and raising a baby, so he was always loving any attention he got from her.

Meanwhile, little Ele was looking at his mother's belly, still wondering what on earth was going on there. It started to frustrate him that he could no longer sit on his mummy’s lap, but he slightly understood the concept of having another new little sibling that was seemingly “in mummy’s tummy” and that it was a baby.

Matty looked down and chuckled. “Say hi to the baby, Ele.” She urged.

Eleazar didn’t say anything, but he did wave, thinking that his little brother or sister could see him do so. Matty giggled a little bit at her son's expression, and she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “In just a little bit you’ll have a new brother or sister, and it’s gonna be sooo fun,” she said.

“Sleepless nights and screaming babies are an interesting thing to consider fun.” Sebastian joked sarcastically.

“Remind me whose idea it was to have a second?” Matty said, raising her brow at her husband. She knew he was just joking, but she did like to poke fun at him because, after all, it was his idea to have another baby once Eleazar was a little older.

“It was mine, and I’ll totally own up to that.” He chuckled, pulling his wife close to him. “And I can’t wait to have another. Anything from you is a complete blessing, and I’m lucky to have you and our children.”

Matty smiled and leaned her head against his chest. She had married the right man, that’s for sure. And boy did she love him.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Sebastian mumbled into her neck.

“Don’t want another little boy?” She chuckled, looking at him with a raised brow.

Sebastian shrugged. “I’ll be happy either way. I just want a healthy baby. But since we have a boy already, I think it’d be nice to have a sweet little girl. Beautiful and intelligent, just like her mother.” He said, giving Matty a little squeeze.

“And here I thought you wanted a little mini-you.” Matty said.

“Oh trust me, I do.” Sebastian replied. “But who's to say that a little girl can’t be my mini-me? We can get into all sorts of trouble together.”

“Mhm, right. Not on my watch.” Matty joked with a laugh.

“Worth a shot.” Sebastian grinned.

I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you so much for reading! 🥺❤️

[luxcuriousao3]

Mutter (Chapter One)

Summary: When he looked at Lelia, truly looked at her without letting his fears and resentment get in the way, all he saw was a sad, scared girl too sweet for her own good. She was so easy to take advantage of, just like his mother had been. König wanted to protect her, and not just because of his instincts. But because in a way, it felt like he would be protecting his mother. Word Count: 5249 Warnings: vague/brief smut, mentions of past domestic/sexual abuse, König has mommy issues and also self-esteem issues and also intimacy issues (he can still get it tho), *** means POV switch, and -*- means timeskip but no POV switch. Notes: A new Leliaverse fic, since some of you showed interest and this has just been rotting in my drafts lol. This one is ABO and KönigxLelia. Dove still takes priority, this is just a side project atm. So updates won't be as regular for this fic. But the chapters are longer lol. I have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! AO3, Masterlist

“I do not want her.”

The tiny omega standing across from König flinched, but otherwise didn’t react to his matter of fact statement. He felt a bit bad for phrasing it in such a harsh way—there wasn’t anything wrong with her, after all. She was beautiful—a petite girl, nearly two whole feet shorter than him with long, loose auburn curls, round, cherubic cheeks, a small nose, and thick lashes. He didn’t know what color her eyes were—she hadn’t bothered to look up at all since walking into the room, and her scent was clouded by fear. It was so potent he was surprised the officer he was speaking to couldn’t smell it, even if she was a beta.

No. It was less that he didn’t want the pretty little omega, and more that he could tell how very much she didn’t want him.

He endured rejection often enough from the beta women he slept with—they never wanted him for more than his huge cock and his even bigger knot, and he’d learned to accept that after a while—and had no desire to constantly be around a woman who was terrified of him. A walking reminder of how unloved he was, and how unloved he always would be.

“Sorry, Colonel, it’s KORTAC’s newest policy,” the beta officer replied. “All unmated Alphas, when on active duty, are to be assigned support omegas to keep them stable and help them through their ruts. Starting with the upper ranks.”

The woman shrugged, then nodded at the omega, who was still staring at the ground.

“She’s yours, now.”

König growled. The beta officer paled a bit, and the omega’s shoulders hunched, like she was trying to make herself smaller.

“I. Do. Not. Want. Her,” he repeated forcefully. “Take her back. Or find me a new one,” he added the last part reluctantly. He didn’t want an omega—any omega. He knew they would all be afraid of him, that none would care about him. But perhaps, if he had to have one, they could give him one that didn’t look like she was two seconds away from bursting into tears just because she was in the same room as him. As pathetic as it was, it stung. He knew he was a monster, completely and utterly undesirable except for his Alpha status. But her terror made him feel like the scum of the earth.

“Each omega volunteer was scent matched to an Alpha to find the best possible fit for all parties involved,” the officer said after a long moment, swallowing nervously. But there was a hardness in her gaze as well. A glimmer of anger. “I’m afraid you can’t simply swap her for a prettier version like she’s some sort of toy. Sir.”

König flushed beneath his sniper hood, feeling like a scolded child. An embarrassed, ashamed child. He cut a glance to the omega again, wincing when he saw her skinny arms wrapped around her middle in a sad parody of a hug.

“That is not—” he started, before cutting himself off with a sigh of frustration. There was no use protesting. This was happening, whether he liked it or not. He would simply do his best to avoid his new roommate. It’s not like they could force him to mate with her. “Fine. Fine. I will take her.”

“Wonderful,” the officer said flatly. “Your omega’s belongings have already been delivered to your quarters, along with additional pillows and blankets to use as nesting materials. Necessities will be provided for her, paid for by the new program.”

König rolled his eyes. Paying for her living expenses was just an excuse to keep him from rejecting their stupid new policy, not a kindness like the beta was making it out to be.

“Come along then, Fräulein,” he said, trying to gentle his tone a bit so as not to terrify her any further. But he couldn’t hide his displeasure with the situation, and it was clear in his voice. She jumped, but then scrambled to follow him, having to run to keep up with his long strides as he walked out of the meeting room. He forced himself to slow down. “Tell me. What is your name?”

“Lelia, Alpha,” the omega replied in a whisper, eyes darting up to meet his for just a second before she looked back at the floor. They were big and round like a newborn doe’s, and the prettiest shade of light, honeyed brown. König hated that he felt his heart flutter in his chest at the sight of them.

“You will call me Sir,” he told her firmly, grimacing under his mask at the use of his designation. He was not her Alpha. He would not have her claim him as such. Not when she couldn’t even stand to look at him with his mask on. No, he would rather her speak to him as if she was just another one of his soldiers. “Or Colonel.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied obediently as they arrived at his quarters. He opened the door and gestured to her to go in. She did so without protest. She had been well trained, it seemed. It made him sick to his stomach. He hated seeing omegas stripped of their personality, their autonomy, taught to be nothing but a slave to their Alpha’s whims. It reminded him far too much of his mother.

She reminded him of his mother. Small stature, red hair, meek attitude… even a similar name. Lelia. Lia. He gritted his teeth and looked away. Her fearful scent was already stinking up his room, and his stomach turned. He couldn't deal with this, with her right now.

She had already moved over towards her bag, a small suitcase that couldn't possibly contain more than a few items of clothing. He supposed she would have to get used to wearing whatever plain clothes the program provided her with, rather than the smart, sophisticated dress she was currently wearing—one that looked like it cost half of what König made in a month. She was clearly used to luxury—he wondered why she would leave all that behind to volunteer to be a stranger’s fucktoy? Because that’s what this damn program sounded like to him, no matter what the beta officer had said. Giving a bunch of rough military Alphas fragile little omegas like her… it was madness. König wanted nothing to do with it.

“I will be back by dinner time,” he told her, not even having stepped inside. “You may put your things in the closet. The toilet is through the other door.”

With that, he was gone, the metal door slamming shut behind him.

***

Lelia's new, masked Alpha was terrifying. But he already seemed kinder than Andrew.

Her husband—ex-husband now, she supposed—would have shoved her onto the bed and taken her the second they were alone. It was what he had done on their wedding night. And then again, every night since, until over a year went by and he had nothing to show for it. No baby, no strong little Alpha son to take over his father's company when he was old and grey.

What he did have was several million pounds of debt.

A debt that was cleared by selling her and her useless, barren womb to the owner of a German strip club. Which was then raided by a private military company less than a month later for human trafficking.

Lelia, one of the victims they had recovered, was given two options: be returned to Andrew, or remain in KORTAC’s custody by joining the pilot wave of their new ‘Comfort Omega’ program.

It wasn't much of a choice, really. Anything was better than Andrew.

Her new Al—the Colonel's scent permeated the room. Gunpowder and cloves—the warm, spicy kind. Something else that was woody and slightly sweet. Oud, she thought.

There was a hint of smoke to his smell too, but with a grassy undertone that neither her father’s cigars or Andrew’s cigarettes held. One she didn’t recognize.

All in all, it was far more pleasant than Andrew or Rodolfo—the man she’d been sold to—ever smelt, and her omega wanted to properly scent him. Lelia wanted no such thing, and doubted the Colonel would even let her.

Even still, Lelia was wary. She hung her clothes up in the closet, taking up as little space as possible, but left her toiletries in her bag, which she tucked into the corner next to a pair of huge, muddy boots. She hesitated, but then pulled the leather monstrosities out, digging around for a buffing kit. Once she found it, she carried everything into the toilet, and spent the next half hour meticulously cleaning the Colonel’s boots. She knew he didn't want her—even found the fact strangely comforting, though her baser instincts made her want to whine and whimper at being rejected, again—but she would still be a good omega. She didn't need him to want her. She would prefer that he didn’t. But if he liked her, he would treat her decently… she hoped.

Once his boots were clean, Lelia put them and the kit back into the closet. She changed out of her day clothes—a cream, knee-length tweed dress with half sleeves and an oversized white bow at the collar—and into a set of pink silk pajamas. The bottoms were far too short for her liking, but at least the camisole was oversized and not see through. Rodolfo, the owner of the club she’d been traded to, had preferred to keep his girls in lingerie at all times. Lelia, being his favorite, had been allowed slightly more modest options, as well as a single proper dress for when he took her on ‘dates.’ KORTAC had allowed her to keep some of her clothes when she’d been taken into custody, and she’d chosen the least revealing pieces. She still wished she could have stayed in her dress, but the mud from the Colonel’s boots had stained it. She hoped he would let her get it laundered rather than just throwing it away…

She did her best to wash the stain out, but with only harsh soap and water, a dirty brown spot still lingered. Lelia sighed, blinking back tears, and simply hung it up in the closet. Then, needing comfort, she finally allowed herself to begin building her nest.

All of the materials she’d been given were painfully sterile smelling, and so, unable to resist her instincts, she swapped one of the Colonel’s pillowcases for her own—taking the time to make his bed after, so he would be less likely to notice. She felt better the moment the new pillowcase was added to her nest. Perhaps she would grow to despise his scent, but for now, it soothed her terrified omega.

She curled up in the pile of pillows and blankets she’d made under the Colonel’s desk. She knew that even if he didn't intend to take her tonight—which she still wasn’t sure about—she wouldn’t be sleeping, anyway. She couldn’t sleep if she wasn't alone. She hadn’t been able to since about a month into her marriage, when sleeping meant waking up in the middle of the night to Andrew on top of her, forcing himself inside her as he covered her mouth and nose with his hand. He'd learned his lesson after the first time, when her screams of pain and fear had woken the household staff.

Lelia shuddered at the memory, forcing herself to shut her eyes, pulling a blanket up under her chin and hugging a pillow close to her chest like it was her precious teddy bear. She often wondered what had happened to the stuffed animal, after she’d been married off. She hoped Ulyana, her childhood governess, had taken it. Perhaps the old woman had gone back to Russia to be with her own family, now that she didn't need to raise Lelia anymore. Perhaps Lelia’s teddy slept soundly in the arms of Ulyana’s granddaughter every night… Lelia liked to imagine that was the case. That her faithful stuffed friend, her only friend, was still loved and treasured, rather than falling apart somewhere in a landfill, all alone…

Lelia sniffled, scrubbing her eyes harshly. It was best not to linger on memories. She wasn't that innocent little girl anymore, that hopeless romantic who believed in true love and adored stories and films about it. That thought someday, she would marry the love of her life, and he’d give her two beautiful children, one boy and one girl, for Lelia to dote on and shower in all the love she’d never received from her own parents. That dreamed of going to Uni and becoming a famous poet, so she was praised for something other than her looks and obedience…

No. Lelia was not that girl anymore. She no longer lived with her head in the clouds. She was grounded firmly to earth, and all its horrible realities.

It wasn’t long before sleep found her. She’d grown used to taking the opportunity to rest whenever the chance presented itself, in preparation for her sleepless nights. She only hoped she was too exhausted to have a nightmare.

***

When König left his quarters, he immediately went in search of a beta he knew would be happy to be dragged away from their duties for a quick fuck.

He found one in a pretty blonde nurse named Isa, who he had taken plenty of times before in the storage room of the base’s hospital, where she worked. She was a nice girl, always greeting him with a smile on her face and a hunger in her clear blue eyes. She wasn’t the only one he hooked up with, but he wasn’t the only one she hooked up with, either. Just the best, according to her.

She was also quite talented, though he refused to rank the women he fucked. It was unbecoming of a superior officer. Besides, he was lucky enough that they let him drill his oversized cock into them, despite the fact that he always wore his mask when he did. He never knotted any of them either, no matter that some of them begged for it. That was far too intimate.

After twenty minutes, Isa stumbled out of the storage room with a slight limp, her hair mussed and a pink flush to her cheeks. He followed, straightening her shirt discreetly, not wanting to shame her. He always made sure that any woman he was with was satisfied—multiple times. He enjoyed it. Enjoyed hearing them moan and whimper from the pleasure, breathily telling him how good he made them feel…

And secretly, he always hoped that if he did well enough, they’d tell him that he was a good boy and that they were proud of him.

Of course, they never did. They probably assumed a big, strong Alpha like him would be offended. And he could never just ask for it, for the same reason. His partners tended to gossip about their trysts, and if anyone ever heard about how König would come in his trousers just from being called a good boy, his men would lose every ounce of respect they had for him.

So he kept his desires to himself, as always.

After Isa headed back to her station, König sighed and left for the mess hall, still keen to avoid his quarters—especially after his plan to fuck away any thoughts of his new problem only seemed to make it worse. He’d caught himself thinking of Lelia a few times while sunk halfway into Isa’s pussy. How different would it be to fuck an omega? Would she be able to take his entire cock, unlike the beta girls he was so often with? Would she beg for him to knot her? To fill her with his seed and make her belly grow round with his pups?

That was the thought that had brought him to orgasm, and he’d barely had time to pull out of Isa’s warm, wet pussy before his knot expanded, locking them together when he thrust too deep.

Thus the poor girl’s limp.

König killed as much time as he could get away with in the mess hall before finally admitting defeat and returning to his quarters. When he opened the door, the first thing he noticed was that the sour fear-stink had faded somewhat, allowing him to smell what must have been Lelia’s actual scent—something floral and sweet that reminded him of the garden he’d grown up tending at his grandparents’ cottage, as well as his favorite dessert—vanilla pudding. He instinctively closed his eyes and breathed in deeper, trying to place the flowery smells. Rose was immediately obvious, though there was almost a sugary hint to it. A rose flavored candy, maybe?

He recognized peonies after another moment, and he stiffened. Peonies had been her favorite flower—his mother’s. He left them at her grave on her birthday every year. The only time he ever visited.

The second thing he noticed, when he opened his eyes again, was that Lelia was gone.

“Omega!” He snapped, panicked. Where was she? Had she gone out into the base? That wasn’t safe, there were far too many ill mannered, unattached Alphas that could snatch her up and claim her, and there would be nothing she could do to fight back—

The fear-stink returned full force, and he heard a terrified gasp followed by a crash and then a pained whine. He looked down at his desk, where the sounds had come from, and saw a pillow sticking out. Crouching down, he was met by a pair of wide, scared brown eyes brimming with tears.

“S-sorry, sorry A-Alpha! I— I m-mean Sir, sorry Sir, I’m sorry—” the omega whimpered as she clutched the top of her head, sniffling as she tried to keep from crying. König’s instincts didn't even give him a chance to resist—he reached under the desk and grabbed her slight frame in his massive paws, carefully pulling her out. She went stiff as a board when he did, shifting her arms to cover her face as her shoulders hunched, like she was trying to curl up into a ball. König growled. He was used to being treated like a terrible, violent brute—and he was. He had a deep rage inside him, from years of merciless bullying and a mother who chose drugs over her son. That was why he had joined the military, to give that rage a safe target. He would never hurt an innocent woman. An innocent omega. 

“I will not hit you,” he said angrily. Lelia flinched in his lap, not lowering her arms. He tried to gentle his tone. He was marginally successful. “You have already hurt yourself.”

He smoothed his big hand over the top of her head lightly, feeling for a bump. But she began to squirm wildly in his arms, trying to escape, her scent sharp with panic. He let her go, and she practically dove back under the desk and into the nest she’d made there.

“Fräulein,” he huffed, confused and exasperated. But then he caught sight of the fogginess in her eyes, and he paused. That was the look of a soldier who had been on the frontlines for too long. Who had seen too many horrors to ever truly recover. König saw that look in the mirror often. His expression softened beneath his mask in sympathy, and he sighed. “I will leave you be.”

He stood up, joints creaking in protest, and turned around. He was greeted by the sight of a neatly made bed, which he knew he was certainly not responsible for. He glanced at the desk again. It had to have been Lelia. No one else but her had access to his quarters.

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly, unsure if he would only make her more afraid by speaking, but unwilling to seem like a mannerless oaf. “For the bed.”

There was no response for a long moment, and König headed over to the closet to take off his boots. As he opened it, a tiny, nervous voice spoke up from under the desk, though when he looked back, she was still hiding under it.

“I cleaned the boots in the closet,” Lelia said. Then, “I can— I can clean the ones you’re wearing now too, Sir.”

König blinked, looking down at his spare pair of boots. They were spotless, practically looking brand new. His heart thudded hard in his chest. It was such a kind, motherly thing to do—making his bed and cleaning his boots. Small things to make his life easier, to show she cared…

She doesn’t care about you, a harsh voice in his head said. König flinched. She probably thinks she has to do these things for you.

“That is not necessary,” he replied, unlacing his boots and putting them next to his newly cleaned spares. He looked back up to grab his sleepwear when he noticed the feminine clothes taking up a sliver of space in his closet. Curious, he flicked through them. His cock twitched at the frills and sheer fabric, and he blushed beneath his mask as he spluttered. “What is this?”

He heard Lelia’s heart skip a beat, and he turned around to see her young, anxious face peeking out from under the desk.

“My clothes,” she answered after a second of hesitation. “They’re all I have… except for my white dress. But it— it got mud on it.”

From cleaning his boots, no doubt. He felt a bit guilty about that, but he was still too stuck on the fact that she was claiming the pretty lingerie hanging in his closet was clothing to think much about that.

“This clothing is not fit for a whore!” He exclaimed, flustered. Perhaps he was exaggerating—for lingerie, it was quite tame, actually. It was soft and pretty, exactly the type of thing he liked on a woman. And that was why he was so upset—because now he was imagining coming back to his room everyday only to see this beautiful, unclaimed omega looking so perfectly fuckable, when he had already promised himself he would do no such thing.

His cock was half hard from the fantasies alone, and it took him a long moment to shake them from his head. That was when he recognized the salty scent of tears. His eyes widened and he looked back at the desk to see Lelia had disappeared beneath it once more. He couldn't hear a single stuttered breath or gasping sob, but that she was crying, he had no doubt.

Immediately, he was swarmed with guilt, and he quickly approached her nest, crouching down once again. She was just a small lump under a blanket at this point, one that was trembling from the force of her silent cries.

“Oh, Lelia…” he whispered helplessly, fighting the urge to reach in and pull her out again, to place her in his lap where she would be safe. Where he could keep her safe. Damn his Alpha instincts. “I am sorry. I did not mean to insinuate that you— that you are—”

His oversized hands gestured uselessly. She wasn’t even looking at him. But he couldn't bring himself to repeat what he had said, knowing how it had hurt her.

“I was just… surprised. Your clothes are— very pretty, but I do not think they are clothes, Schatz. They are for sleep, and— other things.”

König was bright red beneath his hood. He hated that he had made her cry. And not even because she was needlessly afraid of him—but because of his stupid big mouth. This was why he tried not to speak very often. He always ended up saying the wrong thing.

“I know,” Lelia whispered, voice small and endlessly sad. “But they’re all I have.”

“I will get you new clothes,” he found himself saying. What was he doing? He didn't even want an omega. Not when he knew they wouldn’t want him back, not really. Especially not one as sweet and pretty as Lelia. Especially not after he’d just accidentally called her a whore… yes, exactly. That was why he was doing this. Not because he wanted her, but because he felt bad. She had done him a kindness despite his standoffishness, and he had been rude in return. He needed to make amends. “Tomorrow. I will request them from the program. Or— you can shop online, if you would prefer, ja? I think the clothes the program will provide will not be very… fashionable.”

Lelia seemed like the type to care about that, if the pretty dress she’d worn today was any indication. Though that begged the question—if the dress was now in his closet, did that mean she was wearing lingerie now? Surely not, he would have noticed earlier when he held her… though he had been quite focused on checking her head for injuries…

“Are you going to fuck me?”

König choked on his spit, staring wide-eyed at the lump under the blanket, wondering where the hell that had come from. Until he realized he was hard as steel and practically soaking the room in aroused pheromones, just from the idea that the sweet little omega in front of him was dressed in nothing but frills and bows…

König tried and failed to reign in his scent, and the resigned, despondent voice continued.

“If— if it’s not too much to ask, could you— could you shower, first, Sir? I promise I’ll be good, and I’ll make it worth the wait, I just— it hurts my omega… to be t-taken if I can— can still s-smell someone else on you…”

König’s arousal abruptly died, mortification and shame replacing it. He had known she would smell Isa on him when he came back—had walked around base with her scent on him just to show just how displeased he was with the ridiculous Program. To show that he didn’t need or want an omega. And he hadn’t cared about how it would affect Lelia. It was thoughtless. It was cruel.

“Nein,” he responded firmly, and the blanket lump deflated, growing impossibly smaller. He quickly continued. “I am not going to— to take you.”

The lump perked up, and after an agonizingly long moment, Lelia sat up, the blanket falling off her shoulders and pooling in her lap. König’s mouth went dry and he swallowed as he saw the oversized pink camisole she was wearing. It had sweet little ruffles along the straps, and obscured the shape of her body, puffing out in front—but that only made her look pregnant, stirring his earlier fantasies about breeding her. He quickly looked away.

“Because you don’t want an omega?” She asked hesitantly. “Or— or because I’m a whore?”

König cursed himself in German, tugging anxiously at his mask.

“I did not mean to say that,” he answered, looking back at her, neck bent at an awkward angle so he could see her. She still had tear tracks on her face. He swallowed thickly. “That was unkind. I did not mean it. I do not think you are a whore.”

Even though he found it beyond strange that any omega would volunteer for a program like this, he wasn’t lying. When he looked at Lelia, truly looked at her without letting his fears and resentment get in the way, all he saw was a sad, scared girl too sweet for her own good. She was so easy to take advantage of, just like his mother had been. König wanted to protect her, and not just because of his instincts. But because in a way, it felt like he would be protecting his mother.

But Lia Adler had been selfish, choosing drugs over her son at every turn. Lelia, on the other hand, seemed like she would be a wonderful mother. He could make her one, if she wanted.

He immediately shut those thoughts down. Lelia was not his mother. She was not his anything. Conflating the two of them was so very wrong. Craving maternal affection from her even as he thought about knotting her… It was disgusting. König was disgusting. He looked away again.

“I will not take you,” he repeated. “I can smell your fear. You do not want me to claim you. I will not have an omega that does not want me.”

I will never have an omega at all, he thought, pained. No one ever wants me.

“You aren’t going to force me?” She asked warily. König had already known she thought he would, but hearing it still hurt. He would never force himself on a woman. Ever. And he would certainly never claim an omega against their will. “Or just fuck me without claiming me?”

“No,” he said sharply. “You do not want me to touch you. So I will not touch you. In any way.”

The sour smell of her fear was gone, though the saltiness of her tears still lingered in the air, tainting the otherwise delicious scent of flowers and vanilla. If she were his omega, he would make sure she always had a fresh bouquet. But she wasn't. And he didn’t want her to be.

“I don't understand,” she finally whispered, tone fragile. König frowned underneath his mask. Was it really so hard to believe that he might not be a complete monster?

But you are a monster.

“What is so hard to understand?” He asked, his accent growing thicker to hide his hurt. “I believe I have been very clear!”

Lelia cowered as he raised his voice, and König exhaled sharply through his nose as he tried to calm himself. She did not want him. Not even his cock like the betas he slept with. She was afraid of him. If he was going to survive this forced cohabitation, he had to stop scaring her.

“I am sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. Then, a little steadier, “We will sleep now. It is late, and I am tired.”

König stood up once again, returning to the closet to grab his sleep clothes. He hesitated before going into the small, cramped toilet to change. She would probably think he was going to rape her if he started undressing in front of her.  He suddenly groaned as he realized he was going to have to sleep with his mask on. He couldn't risk her seeing his face… his quarters had truly been stripped of their safe haven status. There was nowhere left on base where he could relax.

When he was done, he found Lelia curled up in her nest once again. He disliked the thought of her sleeping on the floor. It wasn't right. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to offer the bed to her while he took the floor. His Alpha, on the other hand, wanted to insist she sleep in bed with him, where he could protect her.

König did neither.

He laid in his bed and slid under the blankets, turning to face away from the little omega tucked under his desk, hoping she would feel a little calmer if he wasn’t looking at her. He could feel her eyes on him, assessing, but after a few moments, it seemed to work, at least a little bit. Her heart rate slowed down, not near enough for her to be asleep, but at least no longer drilling a hole into his eardrums with her anxiety.