#confirmation that she's not imagining this. confirmation that she messed up REALLY bad

[alwaysanundertone]

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x fem reader

angst / fluff

word count: 1.2 k words

CW: mention of an abusive household

TW: panic attack, it’s not a super detailed scene but it takes up like 1/3 of the fic 🩷

tag list: @staarflowerr @liviessun @reggieswriter @call-me-mishi @moonyxoxo @jaguarthecat @queerndepressed @kerst666 @delusional-4-fake-people @twilightlover2007

part 1 , part 2 , part 3

Unfortunately, you couldn’t ignore your feelings forever, and you had to learn it in the hard way.

You were feeling slightly anxious, but it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, so you just shoved everything down like you always did and started studying. Ten minutes in, your hands were slightly shaking, but still you brushed it off, until it became so bad you hit your ink bottle, spilling the black liquid all over your papers.  

Suddenly you were in your old room, sat at your little pink desk, staring at the mess in front of you, the tears flowing freely at the prospect of having ruined all of your drawings, while your mother was screaming  at you for being so emotional; to her eyes your emotions were a burden, something to be ashamed of, if you cried you were considered a failure. Pretending to be heartless wasn’t really a choice growing up, more like a way to survive.

Your breath became laboured, suddenly the walls of your room were closing on you, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Your hands were now violently shaking, your heart galloping in your chest: you felt a sharp pain to your chest. You tried calling for someone, anyone, but your voice came out as a whisper. This was the first time something like this happened, your symptoms were just like the ones that people describe before having an heart attack: this didn’t help your anxious state, at all. 

You saw through blurry eyes Dorcas and Marlene by the door, their mood rapidly shifting, Cas rushing to you while the other one ran out of your dorm, and you could just feel grateful for being found.  

“Heart… attack, Cas” She shook her head. “Honey, I think it’s a panic attack. Come on, breathe.”

You didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath, maybe that’s why your head started feeling lighter. You inhaled sharply, mimicking Dorcas, who was now holding one of your hands on her chest, encouraging you to follow her movements.

Little by little, you felt your heart beating a little bit slower, your hands now only trembling slightly. After a while, Cas stopped exaggerating her breaths, and you fell in an uncomfortable silence. “Listen, Y/N, we have to go to the infirmary.” You started to protest, but she shushed you. “We have to, okay? You have to talk to a doctor about this, I think it was just a panic attack, but we can’t be too sure. Marlene’s waiting for us, let’s go”

You laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Madame Pomfrey told the girls to leave, you had to rest, but now you were feeling even more anxious: you thought about all the studying you were missing on to stare at the ceiling. It was pointless, she confirmed it was a panic attack, so what? You couldn’t spend the whole weekend on a hospital bed for it.

You stopped your sulking abruptly, seeing some type of movement in your peripheral vision.  It was slight, so much so that you thought you had imagined it, but then James’s head pop out of nowhere, making you nearly scream.

“Love, we have to talk, but we can’t do it here. So, crawl to me, we’re going to escape” Despite the fight you had, you couldn’t help but giggle slightly, doing as you were told. Once you were both under the invisibility cloak, staring into each other eyes, James sighed slightly, releasing a sigh. “Darling, we’re so, so sorry you have no idea how much. Dorcas told us you had a panic attack, we know we caused it” He kissed your forehead, making you melt under his touch. “The others are waiting for us, let’s go”

So, you followed him, paying extra attention to not make any noise. As soon as you stepped foot in the astronomy tower, Sirius ran to you, hugging you close to his chest. You stayed like that for a while, until you felt him sniffle: looking up to his eyes, they were puffy and red. “Angel, I am an awful boyfriend” You were about to contradict him, but he kept talking. “You had a panic attack and it was all my fault, if you want to break up, you’re totally right: I’ll leave, I shouldn’t have told you all of those things, you are the love of my life, and I messed everything up like I always do, I’m such a shitty-“

You slapped his face slightly, making him startle, then proceeded to kiss him. He melted under your touch, his hands found their way to your waist, holding you impossibly close to him.

After a while, you sighed, pulling yourself away from his embrace. “It wasn’t completely your fault, you know. I haven’t told you this yet, well, maybe I wasn’t even planning to, but I owe you an explanation. My parents weren’t… the best, and I��ve always been emotional. I know it might sound strange, but I cried literally at everything, and they used to shout at me for being weak. So, I had to build some type of armour, you know?” You took a deep breath, smiling despite the sharp pain you felt every time you talked about it, and the knot that made talking feel impossible. “It hurts to think about it, you know?”

“You don’t have to talk about it, we get it. It’s just- Why didn’t you tell us sooner? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we would have been more careful” James looked at you like his heart just broke.

“I know, I should have, but I didn’t want to be a burden. Sirius receives those stupid letters every month, what I went through is nothing compared to what his family does to this day. My mother hasn’t reached out in what? Three years? It’s not a problem anymore, I just get overwhelmed sometimes”

Remus was frowning, but it was Sirius to talk. “Listen, just because they aren’t there to belittle you every chance they get, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you; these things are hard to get rid of, and I know this better than anyone else. Your body remembers what they told you, and you have to face that, but you don’t have to do it alone, understood? You can talk to us, you can tell us what you need, and we will do it for you, because we love you, and we’ll always be there for you”

You didn’t know if it was Sirius’s words or the fact that for the first time, you felt like you were being listened to, but as soon as the long-haired guy stopped talking you started crying like you hadn’t cried in a long time, your chest heaving. Your inner child was just now understanding that her feeling had always been valid, that she had never been too much.

“Love, what happened, please talk to us?” James voice sounded close to crying, but you just smiled through the tears, shaking your head.

“I-“ You stopped, clearing your throat. “I finally feel seen”

And as they crowded on you, hugging you close to their chest, you knew you’d be alright.

THIS IS THE LAST PART! IF YOU HAVE SOME REQUESTS SEND THEM 👯‍♀️💓

[seresinhangmanjake]

Rather Be With You

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake has been away for six months and he just hopes you waited for him.

Warnings: cursing. I think that's it.

Notes: this was inspired by an ask (💐) from a bit ago. Sorry it took so long. So much happened in the last week and a half, some good some bad, and it just got on top of me. Writing had to come second. I have probably written better in my life haha, but I tried.

Words: 1972

---

“You know he's only messing with you, right?”

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees as he wrung his hands together. Surely it had been a while. For the entirety of the morning, perhaps? Rooster had made his teasing comments at seven a.m. sharp and they were due to dock at noon. Had it been that long? Or had he really managed to shove many hours worth of painful thoughts into just a few short minutes? Somehow, he figured, it was one or the other. No in-between.

When his eyes flicked up, Nat’s face seemed to hint at the former. 

It made sense, he supposed. Spending hours thinking about you wasn’t exactly uncommon. Usually, though, those thoughts were a bit nicer, with you naked and smiling, laughing, or whispering sweet words to him. He liked those better than the ones that had plagued him for…well, however long he’d been sitting there.

“He knows what he said isn’t true,” she continued. “He wouldn’t have had the balls to make jokes like that if he thought they would hold any weight. Trust me, no one particularly enjoys pissing you off.”

He wasn’t pissed off, though. He was devastated at the seeds of doubt planted in his head; at the pain and insecurity that came with the twisted knife to his gut. He hated the images forced into his mind at his friend’s words; the ones of you with other men; the ones that made it terribly clear how little you considered or missed him in his absence. 

“Jake, she waited for you. I know she did.”

“Yea? How?” he asked. 

Phoenix opened her mouth quickly, just as he would have had someone asked him a few hours ago if you loved him like he loved you—ready to confirm with a smile on his face. But if made to think of the answer for more than a half-second, without the hope and giddiness fueling his enthusiasm, he realized he couldn’t actually say for sure if you loved him, just as Nat now could not say with certainty that you had waited for him. 

Her mouth closed. 

"Exactly. You don't know," he said. "It’s not like I was smart enough to ask her to be my girlfriend before we left. She has no obligation to me, so why would she have bothered to wait six months to have me when she could have anyone?"

The brunette shook her head. “I don’t believe she's like that."

Leaning back against the bench and crossing his arms, Jake just barely held himself back from a scoff. "Like what, Nat? That wouldn't make her anything other than a woman who found someone new to sleep with after the guy she was sleeping with disappeared for half a year.”

“But you didn’t—”

“I know I didn't disappear. But I’ve been gone longer than we’d been together," he said, his voice drifting as he imagined what he hadn't stopped to consider before; a nightmare that, if proven true, would cleanly snap his heart in half. "Joke or not, Rooster could very well be right.”

—

"You're overthinking,” Penny’s voice snuck in from your left. 

She reached out to take the beer glass from your hand, polished almost too clean after the twenty minutes you spent absentmindedly running a rag over it. Your mind had been too occupied with troubled thoughts to notice your unceasing drag of the dishtowel around the cylindrical shape of the glass. 

It came free from your hand with ease, and as Penny placed it back on its shelf, you spewed, "What if he hooked up with someone? What if he decided six months was too long to wait for a woman that isn't his girlfriend?” You finally faced her just to find her rolling her eyes. “He likes sex, Penny. A lot. There are plenty of willing women and he's practically insatiable."

"When it comes to you, maybe."

The tenseness in your shoulders from well-formed stress was heavy with your exhale, forcing your shoulders to fall forward and your posture to take a hit. "Penny…" you groaned.

"I'm telling you, there's no way he messed around with anyone,” she swore, leaning back against the bar. "Besides, it's frowned upon to get involved with your coworkers."

"You think that's ever stopped Jake?"

She pursed her lips and tilted her head from side to side as she considered. "Ok, fair enough,” she agreed. “Once upon a time, that definitely wouldn't have stopped him. But after meeting you, he hasn't looked at another woman."

You couldn’t say that provided you with any relief. Jake had always presented as an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ type of man. He wasn’t a worrier. Once something exited his periphery, it promptly left his brain, discarded with all past challenges or predicaments. And wasn’t that what you were? An obstacle? He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend for a reason. Holding on to you for more than just the night didn’t necessarily make you more special than any of the other women. Perhaps it simply made you convenient.  

"You don’t know, Penny. You’re not with him 24/7."

Penny muttered something under her breath. Her fingers rose to rub at her temple and when they dropped back to her side, the stare she shot you was imbued with determination. "Look, my bar is where Seresin used to do his "best work," as he liked to say,” she said, and you made a face. "But the only work he's been putting in since he met you has involved getting you to like him and making you happy after you two started your little…thing." 

"You may not pay attention, but I do," she practically scolded. "Now, a month ago you were excited to meet him when he got back, and then you let your thoughts get away from you and it’s fucking everything up." 

To your own shame, you couldn't deny that. So you didn't bother, rather opting to nibble on your thumbnail.

"They'll be back soon, so are you coming with me or not?"

—

He didn’t know what he was doing, standing there with his bag over his shoulder. But he felt like a heavy weight, an anchor in a sea of levity. Looking around, the men and women he’d been packed in with for the last six months were thrilled, the room sprinkled with smiles and laughs of giddiness in anticipation of having their families in their arms again. 

He didn’t have that. 

He wanted to have it, but that was fully reliant on you. Your feelings. Your wants and desires. Your plan for your future. Jake could imagine a world where he had the strength to beg to be a part of your life—to plead as desperately as if fighting for enough air to fill his lungs—but reality made that entirely out of his will and control. So he didn't shove his way forward when they made it home. He couldn't bring himself to jump in front of the others who had people waiting for them upon their return. Instead, he let them file out, his team included, until he was one of the final few to step back on dry, solid land. 

As he walked by couple after couple, family after family, his already weak composure began to crumble at its edges. The people milling around him felt like a mocking montage of the life he didn’t have. Men and women kissing their partners or spouses, hugging their children with no intent of letting go, their tears coating the ground with joy. 

Jake's chest constricted. He needed to get himself on the other side of it, but weaving through the mass of bodies proved harder than he expected. 

His shoulders bumped into theirs, his chest skimming across backs and limbs when he turned to his side to sneak through narrow openings. Little kids ran into his legs like spinning tops on the loose from their wound-up energy finally releasing, though each one quickly recovered and returned to their parents, maintaining the same level of enthusiasm they had prior to smacking face-first into a muscled calf. 

With each unintentional nudge, he apologized, but no one so much as noticed, too engrossed in their relief at making it home unscathed or in seeing their loved ones still intact. Somewhere, his teammates were doing the same. They’d found their partners, and he thought he’d found his, but his overconfidence in your feelings kept him from ensuring you were actually together. And maybe it was too late. Maybe he would have no choice but to watch you move on from him.  

Finally breaking through the edge of the crowd, Jake took his first deep breath. He didn’t look back as he made his way to his truck. He didn’t turn when rushed footsteps grew closer until they sounded as if right on his tail. 

“Jake.”

He paused and sighed. He should’ve known he would imagine your voice. Six months without that lovely sound, his only chance at hearing it being within his dreams, took its toll. It haunted him like a ghost on that ship. Of course it wouldn’t cease just because he was home.

“I was calling you, but you didn’t hear me.” There was a soft chuckle, then, “Well, at least I hope you didn’t hear me.”

He spun on his heel and was greeted with your smile. It lacked its carefree nature, instead just barely failing to conceal a twinge of nerves, but beautiful nonetheless. He couldn’t help but smile back. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a few steps closer. 

“I came with Penny.” The roundness of your cheeks turned pink from your blush. You lightly shrugged. “I missed you.”

With those words, Jake knew Rooster was deserving of a swift smack upside the head, one he very well may deliver. You cared. You missed him, even. 

Fucking Rooster.

“Oh, I, um,” you continued, your eyes falling down to your hand. “I got you these. It feels silly now, but at the time I thought they would be nice, I guess.”

He followed your line of sight to the small bundle in your hand. Five long stems were tight in your grip, the bulbs on their ends made up of layers of silky red petals. 

"I was thinking," you swallowed hard and met his gaze, "I don't actually know if you like flowers. And if you do, I didn't know your favorite. I just picked mine." The sweet grin that returned to your face practically demanded he kiss you. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. All of you. Every little bit. 

And you weren't wrong. He hadn't had a favorite. 

He did now. 

Jake swallowed through the tightness in his throat, fighting back the stinging in the corners of his eyes. 

He didn't get gifts, and certainly not from the women he was with. But then again, with the exception of you, he hadn't chosen to be with a woman for more than a night or two in the last decade. 

"I like the yellow ones but they symbolize friendship and that wasn't really what I was going for, so I—"

"I love you.”

Your smile, your jaw, your hand, fell. "You…what?"

He let out a chuckle and reached for you. "Come here."

You didn't hesitate sliding your hand into his and he quickly pulled you to him, your chests hitting, lips meeting with an intensity that he hoped expressed even just a lick of how much he missed you. You draped your arms around his shoulders and the petals of the flowers tickled the nape of his neck. 

"Six months was too long," you whispered when you separated. 

He nudged his nose against yours. "Way too long."

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @leila22rogers

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: we're here to boo Andrew.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“So, you’re coming?” Jacob’s voice quavers with excitement. You can’t imagine how he’d sound if you said no. You hate letting people down, it seems to be all you've ever done.

“Uh, yeah,” you say as you steer around the track; opting for some MarioKart over Minecraft that night, “boss says it’s no problem to get the days off. Just have to make it up after. Is... Is everything still good on your end?” 

“Oh yeah, sure thing,” he assures buoyantly, “I can’t wait. Did you still wanna split the airBnB?” 

“Actually, I got a place to stay for the night then I’ll take the early bus back,” you explain as Princess Peach knocks you off the track, “argh!” 

“Right, that’s good,” he says, “good to know you won’t be stranded out there.” 

“Mhm,” you use your boost to catch up to Peach and get your revenge. You don’t mention that Kara will be with you at the con. You just want to be sure this isn’t something wonky. “It’ll be nice to get out of town. My grandma will probably be happy to have the place to herself.” 

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “what’s her problem anyway?” 

“Just the way she is. She likes her space,” you shrug, “I don’t know, I don’t think she expected to be raising her granddaughter...” 

“Ah, yeah, I guess that would be stressful,” he says, “still, seems like you’re not too bad to be around. Got a job, go to school, all that. Think my dad would love it if I put in half as much effort.” 

“Yeah? You make him sound like a hard ass.” 

“Can be. Lawyer, so kinda his schtick,” he chuckles. 

“Oo, fancy,” you snort. Maybe if either of your parents had been lawyers, you wouldn’t be living off your grandma’s resent.  

“I guess. Never really see him that much...” he grumbles. 

“Hm, well, no winning, is there?” You mutter. 

“Not really,” he sighs and hisses, “ugh, Toad!” 

You chuckle and cross the finish line. A respectable second. You wait for him to finish and stifle a yawn. 

“Tired?” He asks. 

“Little.” 

“Me too, long day,” he groans, “neck’s killing me.” 

“Oh, what’d you do--” 

“You know, I’m-- an idiot. Was messing around on my bike.” 

“Of course,” you snicker, “well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna sign off. I don’t wanna keep my grandma up and my head’s starting to go.” 

“Sure, I gotta get up early anyway,” he sounds less than enthused. “Good night.” 

“You too.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Can’t, work. Day after?” 

“Okay, I’ll make it work,” he confirms, “I’m excited about meeting up. Aren’t you?” 

“Yep,” you try not to show your doubt. You’re still not really sure about everything. 

“Can’t wait,” he rasps and the silt in his tone makes you shiver. 

“Yeah, er, bye then,” you hit end session and take off your headset, your ears tender and a bit sweaty. Even if it is awkward, at least you’ll get to hang with Kara for a bit. You haven’t seen her since grad. 

🎮

You’re already exhausted and you’re not even inside yet. The line for the convention is bustling and your excitement keeps you going as you and Kara gab away and move with the slow crawl. The sun beams down and has you sweating, though you could easily blame that on your nerves too. 

“So, this Jacob... is he cute?” She winks. 

“Kara,” you roll your eyes, “it’s not like that. Really. We just game.” 

“Oh yeah. But do you want it to be more?” She teases. 

“You know I’m not really into all that. I don’t have room for a boyfriend in my life.” 

“So boring. Never change, girlie,” she nudges you playfully. “But really, that’s smart. Calvin is too much. I’m thinking of cutting him loose.” 

“Again?” You squint. 

“Not my fault he keeps coming back,” she giggles. 

You peer around, searching out a familiar face amid the ocean of strangers. You haven’t seen Jacob yet. You’re almost hoping he doesn’t show up. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He paid for you to be here. The reminder of the fact strikes guilt in your chest. 

You pause as your eyes catch another pair, further back in the queue. An older man with a beard. He stands out among the crowd. He wears a tidy button-up where most wear graphic tees or cosplay attire. He stares for a moment before he turns away and looks down, probably at whatever kid dragged him there. 

“Well, what are you going to do if he sees you and falls in love?” Kara asks. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. 

“If he’s a nerd like you, how could he not?” 

“Hey,” you frown. 

“What? You’re like the sexy gamer girl type. Isn’t that what dudes want?” She shrugs. “Let me see his pic again. He’s a skinny little thing. He’d definitely be into you.” 

“Urgh, stop,” you cross your arms. 

“Sorry, I’m only playing. You just seem so nervous, I’m trying to loosen you up.” 

“I know,” you puff, “it’s just... I should’ve just said no. This is stupid. I don’t know why I even agreed.” 

“To get out of that shithole,” she snips. “Why do you think I hauled ass the minute I popped by grad cap on?” 

“Mm, yeah, I just hope... do you think he really wants that? Maybe I gave him the wrong idea. Oh, Kar, I really didn’t mean to lead him on.” 

“No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing you did if he does. I mean, he’s probably a virgin so...” 

“That’s mean,” you pout. 

“What, so are you,” she laughs. 

“Exactly,” you shake your head and drop your arms, a buzz jittering your skirt pocket.  

You look down at yourself as you slide your phone free. That was probably a bold choice but it’s so damn hot out. Besides, your Pikachu tee is loose enough to counteract the denim sheath. You turn the screen up, shading it with your hand as you read. 

‘Sorry, not going to make it. Something came up. 🙁' 

You frown and reread the message. Really? You came all the way here, took time off of work, and he’s flaking? 

“What’s up?” Kara asks as she clicks her manicured nails impatiently and stands on her toes, trying to see past the bodies ahead. 

“He just cancelled,” you mutter and type in your reply. 

‘Oh no. Hope it’s nothing bad. Maybe another time.’ 

You hit send and drop your shoulders. You’re surprised how disappointed you are. More so about the wasted effort than anything. Even if you are a bit relieved, it’s shitty. 

“Ah, bullshit!” Kara sneers, “what the hell? What did he say?” She reaches for your phone and you hold it out of her grasp. “That fucker.” 

“It’s probably not his fault. Shit happens.” 

“Babe, you’re gonna settle for a lot of nonsense if you keep that attitude. I’d be friggin pissed if I was you. He brings you all the way here and now he’s too good for you. I bet he saw some cute girl in line and she smiled at him once so now he’s ditching,” she scowls, “I hate boys.” 

“I’m sure... it’s nothing,” you say glumly as your phone vibes again. 

‘I’m real sorry. I hope you still have a good time. Take lots of pictures.’ 

You don’t respond. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. It never feels good to be stood up. Even then. 

“You know what, screw him,” Kara snarls, “let’s go in there and buy you the cutest plushie you can find. Hell, maybe you can find an even cuter guy.” 

“Kar,” you warn her. 

“Fine, just the plushie. Maybe two,” she trills, “forget that loser.” 

🎮

The chaos of the convention wipes away the dark cloud over you. You’re almost thankful that Jacob gave you the opportunity to catch up with Kara. You didn’t realise how much you missed her. It’s perfect day where you can forget about your grandmother and your lame job and everything else. 

You rush around from booth to booth. You look at fanart, handmade figures, and stuffies. You’re mindful of your wallet and how empty it really is. You’ll get one thing and a snack. That’s all you can afford.  

As the hours roll by, your early morning bus ride and time spent standing out in the hot sun catch up to you. You feel your muscles starting to ache and your eyelids turning fuzzy. You yawn as you shuffle behind Kara as she waits in line to get a signature from the one D-list celeb she’s heard of. You’d get one too but it’s way too expensive. 

“Hey,” you rub your cheek, “mind if I sit and wait? I wanna grab a soft pretzel anyway.” 

“Sure,” she agrees easily, “looks like it’s gonna be a while.” 

“Want me to bring you a drink or something?” You offer. 

“Nah, just text me where you are so I can find you,” she says. 

You leave her reluctantly. You’d rather not be wandering alone through the hordes but your feet are killing you and your stomach’s been roaring for the last hour. You stand in line for the pretzel stall and get yours with cinnamon sugar and syrup. Messy but delicious. 

You find a table in the corner and settle in. You put your phone beside the napkin and tear apart the doughy goodness. Your phone lights up with a notification from the merge game you like to play and you see several other icons; missed messages. 

You focus on your snack, savouring each bite, as your eyes drift around the crowded centre. You can barely see some of the booths as hordes cluster around. Some cosplayers bat at each other with toy swords as children fight over the arcade machines. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activity all around. 

You put your head down trying to block out the lights and noise. You feel yourself getting overstimulated. It’s like when you’re in the lecture hall and suddenly you can hear every sniff, sneeze, and keystroke. You close your eyes as you wipe your fingertips on the edge of the napkin, only half-finished your pretzel. 

“Looks good,” a deep voice cuts through the blaring din. 

As you recognise the timbre, your heart squeezes and the world pinpoints at the centre of your skull. You open your eyes and slowly raise your head. You blink dumbly at the unfamiliar man stood in front of you. You think you’ve seen him before, or at least he sticks out from the typical convention attendee. 

It isn’t that he’s too old, there’s lots of older geeks hanging around but they have neckbeards and greasy combovers. His hair is tidy and his beard trimmed close. His clothing also lacks the typical Dorito dust or anime character. You remember, he was outside in the line. 

“Uh, hello?” You utter. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as he pulls out the chair across from you. He sits as your insides plunge. You know his voice. 

“Jacob?” You murmur in shock. How? Why? This isn’t the stringy teenager you met online. 

He nods, his jaw tensing, and he crosses an arm over the table, pointing to your half-eaten pretzel, “what’d you get on yours? I can’t decide between sweet or savoury.” 

“Who... are you?” You croak, head spinning as your eyes prick. You knew something was weird. You knew you weren’t talking to Jacob or whoever that boy was in the pictures. 

He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. As his chest deflates, you do too. He’s older than you, bigger than you, and by the looks of him, a lot better off. Why the hell would he be chatting with you? Why would he lie to you? 

“You’re right. I’m not Jacob,” he confesses, the colour draining from his face. He steeples his fingers and considers his next words carefully. You sit back and hug yourself defensively. This is fucked. “My name is Andy, Jacob is my son.” 

“Your son?” You eke out, “why-- why would you lie?” 

He cringes and takes another breath, “he was my son,” he corrects himself, “he... passed.” 

You feel like you’ve been struck. Your mouth falls open, stunned. Not only did he hide behind his son’s photos, but his dead son’s. Oh, god. You feel sick. No, you feel stupid. 

“Look, please, just hear me out. I just—it wasn’t meant to go on this long. When I first lied to you, it was supposed to be that one time. I was... I was lost. I just lost Jacob and I was going through his things. I started playing because I missed him. I wanted to feel like he was still there--” 

“No, no, you got on discord and you started talking to me. As him!” Your voice shakes and your eyes tinge. “That’s not just missing him.” 

“I know, you’re right. I lied but... I got lonely playing by myself so yes, I went onto that discord. You were nice. You didn’t call me a noob or whatever. And... and after work, looking forward to hearing your voice, it got me through a lot of pain. Being alone in that house after so long, I couldn’t cope--” 

“So you lied to me?” You stand and snatch your phone, nauseous to the core, “you manipulated me. How do you know—if you had just been you that I would’ve been any different? If you just wanted to play games, to be friends--” 

“I was scared--” 

“I don’t care if you were scared,” you hiss as you stomp forward. “You’re an adult.” 

He stands and blocks your path. You recoil, put off by his height. He’s a lot bigger on his feet. 

“Please, move or... I’ll scream,” you breathe. 

“You don’t have to do that. Just hear me out,” he pleads. 

“I don’t want to hear anything else from you, Jacob. Or Andy. Or whoever you really are,” you sneer, “move.” 

He shudders and hangs his head. He makes himself seem small as his shoulders round and he backs out of your way. You bite down and march past him.  

You need to get to a bathroom. Now. You’re going to spew up your guts. More important, you need to get yourself together before you go find Kara. She can’t know this happened. It’s too embarrassing. 

[bloatedandalone04]

I Promised You I’d Never Give Up - Part 4

➪the one where bradley comes home and the two of you finally celebrate your engagement.

Warnings: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, swearing, unprotected sex, pain kink, oral (f receiving), pda, hair pulling, mentions of a sex tape, fingering, multiple orgasms, soft dom bradley, daddy kink...?, more than half of this is just smut lolz....the end...?

Word Count: 7.7k | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Yes…feels so good, Bradley,”

Bradley groaned as he watched the video you and he made the night before his two month deployment. He was painfully hard, and while his hand helped relieve it a bit, nothing compares to you. 

“Bradley,” your voice cried through the phone’s speakers. “Touch me, please.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, stroking himself a bit faster and squeezing his eyes shut when the phone landed on the bed and kept recording the sounds of your sweet moans. He was left to imagine your beautiful face and your sinful body in his mind, the sounds you made when you came spurring his own release. “Baby.”

He wished you were there with him so badly. As he painted his hand white with his release, he glanced down at his phone and watched as you ran your finger through the mess he made on you before licking it clean and smiling. 

Then the video ended and he was left feeling only half satisfied. 

He felt grateful that he had the video on his phone, and a bit bad that you were left with nothing. He smirked to himself as he began cleaning up the evidence of what he did, the email you sent him nearly two months ago flashing in his mind. 

I should’ve made you send that video to me before you left. I want you so badly, I can’t even function properly. 

He knew you were over-exaggerating a bit, but it was still kinda funny to imagine you not being able to get yourself off when he wasn’t there to do it for you. It also turned him on, thus resulting in him watching the video you made together for the hundredth time since he started this deployment. 

He could only imagine you laying on your shared bed, your fingers doing nothing at all to soothe the ache in your core. Then he imagines your fingers in general, and how he put a ring on one of them before he left. 

“Bradshaw,” Jake called through the locked door. “You decent? We’re going home tomorrow, I need to pack.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley muttered as he stuffed his phone into his packed bag before unlocking and opening the door. “You really think I’m not aware of the fact that we’re going home in less than twenty hours?”

Jake rolled his eyes as he entered the small room and sat down on his bed. “No, I didn’t think that,” he answered as he pulled his bag out from under the bed frame. “You’ve been all packed up and ready to go for days now. You’re usually the one reminding me.”

“Can you blame me?” Bradley grinned as he sat down on his bed. “You know you miss her just as much as I do.”

Jake nodded and began messily throwing his clothes into the bag. “Just not in the same way,”

Bradley huffed out a laugh and moved to lay down. “Yeah, and you’re lucky that’s the case,” he said and looked over at the blond. “You ever like her as more than a friend, Seresin?”

Jake stopped packing and gave him a weary look, making Bradley’s small smile disappear as he put on a stern look. 

“You can tell me,” he pressed. “I won’t get mad.”

“Yeah, right,” Jake snorted and set his bag aside. “Like hell you won’t. You’re so obsessed with Y/n, you’d get mad if Bob was looking at her in a certain way.”

“Nah,” the brunet disagreed as he tucked his hands behind his head. “I’d never get mad at Bob.”

“Just at me,” Jake muttered before sitting up straight. “No. I’ve never liked her as more than a friend. She’s like my sister, and you should know that by now, Rooster.”

Bradley hummed, closing his eyes as he refrained from counting down the minutes until he was back with you. “Just making sure we’re still on the same page here, Hangman,”

“We are,” Jake confirmed, zipping up his poorly packed bag and setting it down on the floor. “When we get back, are you going to let me say hi to her before you drag her back home and do whatever it is that you two do together?”

“No,”

When Bradley added a headshake in, Jake huffed and moved to lay down as well. “Why am I not surprised,” 

-

I can see the dock. Please tell me you’re there.

Bradley hastily typed out the message before sending it to you, looking up as if that would help him figure out where you were in the crowd. The dock couldn’t get closer any slower if it tried, he thought as he looked back down at his phone. 

Pretty girl: I’m here, Bradley. Of course I’m here. I missed you so much.

His heart skipped a beat or two as he dropped his bag onto the ground of the carrier deck and replied to you.

I missed you, too. Almost there, baby. I hope you’re ready.

Your instant response had him smirking. 

Pretty girl: Been ready for the last two months. Been wet, too. Still am.

He picked his bag back up when the carrier finally reached the dock, and he had to refrain from using his size to his advantage like he didn’t necessarily enjoy doing. Bradley had long since lost sight of Jake as he finally made it off the carrier. He fumbled around with his phone when he stepped onto the dock, bringing it up to his ear after clicking on your contact. “Baby, where are you?” He asked as soon as you answered. 

“Made it easy for you,” you answer and he could’ve moaned at how sweet your voice sounded. Sure, he heard your voice in the video, but hearing you in real life, even through a phone call, had his mind going into a frenzy. It was fucking torture that he wasn’t allowed to call you at all this time around. “At the very back, close to the road.”

He actually groaned this time as he moved through the crowd, pressing his phone tightly against his ear. “I’m coming, pretty girl,” 

He could practically hear your smirk. “Not yet,” you say. “But you will be soon.” 

Before Bradley could moan again, he felt someone grip his shoulder. He turned for a brief second, the sight behind him making him roll his eyes before turning back around and heading towards the far end of the dock. “Jake’s with me, too,”

“Jake! I missed him!” You say excitedly and Bradley once again rolls his eyes. Jake was such a fucking mood killer, it was unfair. This wasn’t the first time the blond had interrupted his time with you. He had nearly walked in on Bradley jerking off more than a few times during the last couple of months, and now he was interrupting his foreplay with you. 

“You missed me more,” he said smoothly as Jake kept a firm hold on his shoulder, as if he was a mother guiding her child through a busy store. 

“Jesus, Bradshaw, slow down,” Jake called out over the chaos of people around them. “I need a ride.”

Bradley stopped dead in his tracks, making Jake bump into him. “Like fuck you do,” he said, still holding the phone to his ear. 

“Come on, man, I said I might need you to drop me off once we got back,” Jake pointed out and Bradley was about to disagree with that until he suddenly remembered the conversation the two of them had a few nights ago. It was right after Jake had nearly walked in on Bradley watching the video, and his head was still swarming with the image of you, he couldn’t be blamed for tuning the other guy out. 

“Fuck, you’re right,” he muttered before continuing to walk, ignoring the smirk Jake gave him as he followed closely behind. “We need to drop Jake off, baby. Then we’re going home.”

“God, I can’t wait for you to take me home,” you all but moaned into the phone, and of course the sound went right to Bradley’s dick. 

He grunted, glancing back at his…friend? Is that what the two aviators were now? “I’m almost there,”

“I can’t wait,” you say back. “I’m literally shaking.”

Bradley grinned as he finally made it through the swarm of people, and then he was scanning the area for both you and the Bronco. He barely acknowledged Jake as his eyes met yours, and he hung up the phone and was making his way over to you within four strides. 

You met him a little less than halfway and jumped into his awaiting arms after he dropped his bag. “Bradley,” you say, relief evident in your voice as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “I missed you.”

His lips were on yours shortly after that, and his hands moved to hold your dress down so you didn’t accidentally flash the many people around. Your teeth nipped his lips as you pressed kiss after kiss to them, your hands sliding up and tangling in his slightly longer hair. 

He was planning on going and getting it cut when he got back to San Diego, but might hold off on that as your relentless tugging felt even better than before. “Baby,” he mumbled when he pulled away and wrapped his arms around you tightly. “I missed you so fucking much. My girl. My fiancée.” He grabs your hand in his and kisses your finger that held your pretty ring, and it was nearly blinding as it reflected off the sun.

Now that he knew what it was like, he was certain that nothing felt better than having someone to come back to after his deployments, and having that someone be you was making him feel slightly feral. 

You grin as he kisses you again, your lips meshing together a bit awkwardly at first before you start to kiss him back. “Bradley,” you sigh against his mouth, pulling away just slightly. “I need…Jake!”

“I need- what?” Bradley barely managed to ask before he felt a light slap on his back. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” came Jake’s voice from behind him. “Did you miss me, too?”

You smile at him and move to get down. Bradley helps you steady yourself before you throw yourself at Jake. “Of course I missed you,”

“It’s good to see you,” he says as he returns the hug. The second you stepped away, Bradley was pulling you against his side and pressing kiss after kiss to the top of your head. “And I know, I know. I’m ruining your little reunion, so the quicker we leave, the quicker you can drop me off and the quicker you two can get home.”

“You’re right again, Seresin,” Bradley said as he picked his bag up and tugged you over to the passenger side door of the Bronco. He opens it and kisses you again once you are seated, moving to stand in between your thighs as you pull him closer. His hands grip your waist while yours tangle in his hair, and he knew if you kept this up, he would be sporting a hard on in no time. He groaned as he pulled away. “We gotta go.” He stated, kissing you one last time before closing the door and opening the back one. 

Jake pushes past him and hops in the Bronco, grinning at Bradley as he says, “And they say chivalry is dead,”

You turn and look back at him as Bradley throws his bag at Jake before closing the door. “Have you two finally gotten past whatever it was that was between you? Dare I ask, are you two friends?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bradley answers as he gets in on the drivers side. 

“We’re working on it,” Jake says and settles back against the seat. 

You raise a brow as Bradley takes your hand in his and pulls out of the parking spot, driving a bit over the speed limit in order to get rid of Jake as fast as he could. “I’m really glad you two are finally getting along,” you say as you near Jake’s street. “My best friend and boyfriend are actually becoming friends. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m sorry, your what?” Bradley asks, looking over at you with a smirk. 

You match it as you lean over and grip his thigh. “Sorry,” you say. “I meant my best friend and my fiancé.”

“Better,” he murmured and refrained from rolling his eyes at the loud way Jake cleared his throat. 

“You guys are too much,” he says and takes off his seatbelt. “Hold off on jumping each other for thirty more seconds, okay? I’ll be gone soon enough.”

You laugh and pull away, much to Bradley’s dismay as he reaches Jake’s house. “There you go, now get out,” he says and you slap his arm.

“Bradley,” you scold as Jake opens the back door and gets out. 

“It’s fine. We spent the last two months together,” he says and smiles at you. “I’m sick of the guy, too.”

Bradley glared at him as Jake winks at you before walking into his house. “He’s gone,” you state the obvious and grip his thigh again. “Now don’t make me beg. Take me home.”

He groaned, pulling out of Jake’s driveway then taking your hand again. “But you know I love it when you beg,” he smirked as his thumb spun the ring around your finger. “My fiancée is so needy for me.”

You bring your joined hands up to your mouth, where you gently begin sucking on his index finger. “You have no idea,” you mumble and Bradley was barely able to concentrate on driving as he felt your tongue swirl around the tip of his finger. “I’ve only made myself come twice since you’ve been gone.”

“What?” He asked in shock, looking over at you when he stopped at a red light. His thumb pulled at your bottom lip, his brows furrowing when you let out a needy whine. “You’ve gotten yourself off twice in two months? That’s it?”

You whine again as your face heats up. “They both lasted less than a second each. I can’t make myself feel as good as you do,” you defended yourself. “How many times did you get off?”

“Like, nearly every night,” he grunted, driving again once the light turned green. “Fuck, baby, now I feel bad.”

You laughed, bringing his hand down so it was gripping your thigh. “Don’t,” you wave off. “It was quite eye opening to realize that you were right when you said I wouldn’t be able to forget you were gone once I tried to make myself come without you here to do it for me.”

His smirk grew as his hand slid higher up your thigh. “I’m really glad I was right about that,” he briefly looked over at you, his gaze softening as he noticed the way your face was flushed and your eyes were wide with lust. “You need me, huh?” His quiet question lacked any sort of mockery, and he sounded so genuine. 

It had you squeezing your thighs together. “Bradley,” 

“I need you, too,” he continued as he turned onto yours and his street. “I need to feel you, right here.” His hand moved under your dress and stroked your lace covered core. 

“Oh, God,” you moan and grip his wrist as he begins to softly rub your clit. 

Bradley pulled into the driveway and pulled the keys out not even a second later. “Come here, baby,” he rasped, helping you over the center console and letting you settle against his lap. “Come ride my thigh.”

You brace yourself on his lap and place your hands on his shoulders, your fingers digging into his uniform shirt. His hands grab your waist and pull your body right up against his before gently guiding you forward. 

The soft, relieved sigh that leaves your mouth had him leaning in and connecting his mouth to yours. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled, rocking your hips against his thigh. “That video doesn’t do you any justice, pretty girl.”

You whine, tangling your hands in his hair. “I wanna see it,” you whisper, moving your body with the help of his hands. “Did you watch it a lot?” 

He hummed, nodding before pushing you back a bit and kissing along the tops of your breasts. “I couldn’t stop watching it,” he confessed. You moan and lean back against the steering wheel, making sure, even in your lust filled haze, to not put too much pressure on the middle of it. “You looked so hot, baby, like you do right now.” 

You whimper, blindly reaching for his biceps as his hands slide up your back. “Bradley,” you moan, helplessly clenching around nothing as you grind your core against his khaki covered thigh. 

“I know, baby,” he cooed, kissing your neck before gently sucking a mark there. You moan a bit louder, reaching one hand down and gripping him through his pants. He groaned against your skin, sliding his hands to rest on the small of your back, where he tugged you forward with a bit more force than last time. 

“Feels so good,” you whimper, leaning in and kissing him roughly. 

Bradley didn’t really plan on getting you off in the Bronco and in your driveway, where literally any one of your neighbors could walk out of their houses and see you (which is why he didn’t pull your dress down and ravish your tits like he really wanted to - the neighbors did not need to see you in that way). But then you told him you hadn’t been able to make yourself feel good enough to the point of coming without him there. 

At first he felt bad, but now he just felt smug and a bit full of himself. He had ruined you for any other guy - not that any other guy would even get a chance with you now - and even ruined you for yourself. 

He had made you so needy for him, and that fact had made him painfully hard.

With that being said, he had a lot of making up to do. 

He grunted quietly at your words, pulling away from your neck so he could take over the uneven movement of your hips. “Bradley,” you warn in a breathy voice.

“You gonna come?” He rasped, bending his knee a bit so his thigh tightened and gave you a more firm surface. 

It was almost comical how quickly he was able to get you off without even actual penetration, and you were a bit embarrassed at the many hours you spent trying to do it to yourself when he was away. Nothing felt better than him, and that was beyond clear at this point. 

You just whimper in response and cling onto him with shaky hands. “It’s okay,” he says quietly, kissing your jaw as your movements become a bit more frantic. “Come, sweet girl, you deserve it.”

His words go right through you and you cry out a bit, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to silence your sounds. “Fuck,” you whisper against his mouth as you stop grinding against him. You pull away with a fucked out expression on your face, and Bradley is sure he’s never seen a hotter sight. “Hi.”

He grins and kisses you quickly, smoothing out the fabric of your dress. “Hey,”

You smile back and glance down at the damp spot on his pants, a teasing look in your eyes. “I missed you,”

Bradley reached for the door handle and kept his free hand on your lower back as he got out. “I missed you,” he said back as he carried you up to the front door. He gives you his keys as he sets you down, his hands gripping your waist when you turn and unlock the door. “God, you look so pretty.”

You give him a smirk from over your shoulder as you enter the house, and he follows close behind and kicks the door shut behind him. “Guess what?” You ask as you turn around and drape your arms around his neck. 

He hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulled you against him. “What?”

“In a few days it’ll be one year since we met,” 

Your words didn’t sound true to him, as it felt like he had known you for a lot longer than a year by this point, but when he gave it some thought, he realized you were right. 

He was going on half a year of being with you, unofficially, when he fucked up and broke things off, then he spent a month and a half on his own, then another three after that with you as his official girlfriend, and now it’s been another two months. 

“You’re right,” he mumbled, holding you even closer to him. “Almost one whole year since the second best night of my life.”

You squint as you play with his pins. “What’s the first?”

“The night I got you back,” he answered, kissing the corner of your mouth. “The same night I told you I love you.”

You give him a dumb grin as you tug at the hair on the back of his neck. “What a perfect night that was,” you agree and he shakes his head as he picks you up effortlessly and carries you down the hall towards your bedroom.

“It was perfect because you decided to forgive me for some reason,” he says as he lays you down on the bed. “Still haven’t quite figured out why you did that, but I’ll never complain.”

You shake your head as he unbuttons his shirt and lets it drop to the floor. “I’d forgive you a hundred times again if it meant it ended with us being together,” 

Bradley kissed your mouth deeply, his hand coming up to grip one of your breasts through your dress as he did so. “We’ll always be together, I made sure of that,” he held up your left hand so your ring is on full display. That same hand tangles in his hair as he kisses his way down your body. “Now let’s see the mess you made.”

He pulls down your damp panties and drops them to the floor as well, his eyes darkening at your glistening core. You gasp as he leans in and licks a stripe up your folds, the sudden stimulation making your body shudder a bit. 

His tongue gently traces circles onto your clit, and you tug on his hair in the way you know he loves. “Bradley,” you whimper, shaking a bit when he lifts a hand and slowly slips his middle and index fingers into you. “It’s too much.”

But your walls greedily sucked the digits in deeper, betraying your own words. “You can take it,” 

And you could. He would never make you do something you weren’t comfortable with, nor would he ever push you past your limit. He knew how much you could handle, and he knew you weren’t close to that point yet. His dick twitched at the thought of getting you there, though. 

You moan quietly, propping yourself up on one elbow as you thread your fingers through his hair. “Don’t cut this,” you softly request, making him laugh against you. The vibrations had you clenching tightly around his fingers and another moan leaving your lips, this one much louder than the last. 

He pulls away from your core with wet lips that were curved into a smirk. “You like me with longer hair, huh?” He teased, tracing your clit again with a barely-there pressure. 

“I love you with longer hair,” you correct and tilt your head back. “Please, don’t cut it for a little while, okay?”

He laughed again, fucking his fingers a bit faster into you. “I’ll keep it this way for as long as you want,” he offered and was completely serious. His hair had only grown about an inch while he was deployed, and though he preferred to have it short, he wasn’t opposed to growing it out for you. 

In other words, he was completely whipped for you and wanted to do any little thing that would make you happy, and he would proudly admit that to anyone who asked. 

“You love me that much, huh?” You tease back, your face scrunching up a bit as his fingers reach that spot deep within you. 

“I think I love you a bit too much,” he said, his mouth returning to your clit. Your mouth opens in a quiet whine, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as he circles the bundle of nerves with his tongue. “You’re going to be my wife. My fucking wife.” 

You grin down at him, your thighs shaking a bit when he fucks his tongue into you. “You kept your word, huh? About ensuring that I’d grow sick of you? I’ve heard a lot of horror stories about wives growing sick of their husbands, Bradley,”

He looks up at you, his mouth glistening. “We’re meant to be together, baby,” he states, wrapping his arms around your thighs. “You can grow as sick of me as you want, but I’m never getting over you.”

Tugging harshly at his hair, you whimper. “You always say the sweetest things,”

“I know,” he agrees. “You’ve made me so pathetic, but it’s worth it.”

You shake your head quickly, reaching further down and caressing the side of his face. “You’re not pathetic, Bradley,” you scolded with a hint of playfulness in your voice, but you were also dead serious. “Meeting you that night at the Hard Deck was the best thing that ever happened to me, and everything that happened after that led up to this. I wouldn’t change a thing. Not even the heartbreaks.”

Bradley pulled his mouth away and stared up at you with nothing but love in his dark eyes. “Baby,” he rasped, using his free hand to assist him in crawling back up your body. He continues to fuck his fingers into you as he presses his mouth to yours in a desperate and needy kiss. “I promise I will never hurt you ever again. That was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I promise, for as long as I’m with you, I’ll make sure you’re so fucking happy all the time.”

You smile into the kiss, raking your nails down his back with just enough pressure to cause the sting he loved so much. “Guess I’m going to be so fucking happy for the rest of my life,” 

He grinned back at you. “I’ll make sure of it,” he repeats as the tips of his fingers brush against your sweet spot. 

Your smile breaks as a moan tumbles from your mouth, and you grab onto his hair tightly and bring his mouth to yours in a messy kiss. “‘M gonna come again,”

Bradley hums against your mouth, your salivas mixing together and wetting both yours and his lips. “Come for me, baby,” he practically begged, wanting nothing more than to get you off at least a couple more times in the remainder of the day since you had been deprived of it for so long.  

You gladly do as he says and come for the second time since he returned home. Your body shook a bit uncontrollably as you moaned against his mouth, his throat swallowing all of your sweet sounds. “Bradley,” you nearly whispered, reaching down to still his hand once you felt the sensitivity begin to take over. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed, kissing you again before slowly pulling his fingers out of your sopping core. Seconds later he was sucking them clean of your release, never breaking eye contact with you as he did so. “You’re so good for me, baby. Taste so good.”

“Jesus,” you mutter as you try to stop your legs from shaking. He just smiles at you, his hands reaching down to pull your dress up and over your head. 

He leans down and kisses along the tops of your breasts, his fingers playing with the straps of your bra as he did so. “You gonna let me fuck you, sweet girl?” He asked, reaching behind you and unclasping your bra. “Think you can take another one?”

You nod your head as he drops your bra off the side of the bed, your kiss swollen lips puffed out and begging him to cover them with his own again. “Always,” you answer, unzipping his pants with shaky fingers. 

Bradley watched with a teasing grin, his eyes moving up your bare body and meeting your own. “I don’t think you’re ready for another one,” he mumbled, trailing his fingers down your chest until they were pinching your nipples. “Think you need a minute.”

“No,” you shake your head and push down his khaki pants just enough to be able to free him from his tight boxer briefs. “Bradley, please.”

He just grinned down at your pleads, smoothing your hair out again. “You need me, hm?” He knew he was being cruel, but the sight of you so needy and whiny and desperate for him was one he loved to see. “You need to be filled.”

It wasn’t a question, because you both know the answer to it. “I need it so badly,” you agreed, pulling down his briefs and wrapping your small fingers around him. “Haven’t you missed being inside of me?”

Bradley groaned quietly as you began to stroke him. “Of course I did, baby,” he answered, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. Your hand felt so much better than his own, and he knew no one else could get him going like you can. “Missed it so much.”

“Then stop teasing me,” you murmur, stroking him a bit faster. He grunted and kissed your shoulder before sucking a mark there, and you moan as you wrap your legs around his waist. Biting down harshly on your lip, you think about what you were going to say next very carefully, and more specifically, what you were going to call him. You were a bit nervous as you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, but decided to go for it. You could wallow in the embarrassment later if he were to not be into it. “Come on, please….daddy.”

It was as if all the air in the room had been sucked away. Bradley tensed up immediately, his mouth detaching from your shoulder as he slowly began to lift his head. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears and your skin was on fire as you waited to see his reaction. 

You were a bit worried that his silence meant something bad, but when he lifted his head all the way and finally met your gaze, his eyes were even darker and his expression told you all you needed to know. He was into it. “Daddy…huh?” He tested the word out and noticed the way you squirmed under him when he said it. He braced his forearms on either side of your head as he ground his front against yours, his mouth muffling the moan you let out as he pressed a deep kiss to your lips. “I’m your daddy, hm, baby?” He asked when he pulled away, his eyes flickering between your own and your mouth. 

You nod once and smile shyly up at him, as if you hadn’t just called him your fucking daddy. 

He groaned loudly, growing impossibly harder. “Is it because I’m ten years older than you?” 

You shrug. “Maybe. I just wanted to try it out,” you mumble. “See how it felt. If you’re not into it-”

“Oh, I’m into it,” he cut you off, kissing your neck and throat as he tried to hold back his groans. “Fuck, am I into it. I’m trying not to come right now after hearing you call me that.”

You laugh, a blush taking over your face. “So, we’re both okay with it,” you state and he nods quickly. “Okay….now can you please fuck me? I missed you for two months, daddy.”

Bradley growled under his breath, reaching down and guiding himself into your dripping core without any resistance from you. “Fuck,” he grunted, sliding one arm under you while his other hand reaches up and tangles in your hair. “You feel so fucking perfect.”

You moan at the stretch of your walls, your own fingers being nothing compared to him. It was no wonder you couldn’t get yourself off when it was this you were so used to. “You’re so big,” you gasp when he begins to roughly rock his hips against yours. “Oh, God.”

“Not quite,” he rasped, pressing his forehead against yours with a smirk forming on his lips. “I think we established who I am to you, huh?”

Another blush takes over your face as you nod, raking your hands through his messy hair. “Right,” you say, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips. “You fill me up so well, daddy. Make me feel so good.”

“That’s right, baby,” he murmured, kissing you again as he fucked into you hard and fast, just the way he knew you needed. Your core greedily took every thrust, though sensitive, but desperate to be filled up by him. “‘M gonna make you my wife, pretty girl. Show everyone how much I fucking love you.”

Not that everyone didn’t already know, he wanted to add but didn’t. It was true, though. Everyone knew that he was in love with you before he even realized it himself. 

You whine quietly, tracing his scars with the tip of your index finger. Your body rocked against his with every grind of his hips, your hands clinging onto any part of him they could get a firm grip on. “I love you, Bradley,” you moan, digging your heel into his lower back and driving him deeper into you. “I have since the very beginning.”

 “I’ve loved you for almost a year now,” he commented, pulling away with a grin. “A whole year.”

You grin back, kissing his cheek and then his neck as you ask, “Bradley, let me ride you, please?”

It wasn’t a position you found yourself in too often, as you both preferred him to be on top, but it was one that allowed him to reach the deepest part of you. 

He grunted and pulled away from you. “You think you can keep up, sweet girl? I’ve made you come twice now and you’re looking a little spent,”

“You’re the one who is ten years older, remember?” You remind him as you writhe around a bit. “I think I can keep up just fine.”

Bradley hummed, his grin turning into a smirk as he placed one hand on your lower back and pulled your body against his as he flipped you over so he was on his back. “Okay,” he challenged in a deep tone. “Ride me, then.”

You place your palms flat against his chest as you sink down onto him, the new angle making him stretch you in the best way possible. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” 

He laughs a bit as his hands move to grip your waist and help guide you up and down on him. “What makes you say that?”

Your brows furrow a bit as your nails dig into his skin. “You’ve gotten me off two times now, it’s not fair. You’ve ruined me,”

He laughed again, his thumbs pressing into the skin of your hips as you slowly rode him. “I thought that was a good thing,”

“It is,” you whisper as he reaches the deepest part of you, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. “Fuck.”

Bradley gives you a half smirk and half grin as he stills you by your hips and thrusts sharply upwards. “There?” He asks under his breath, knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it. 

Of course you give in. “Yes,” you whimper, scratching down his chest as he fucks up into you. “Right there, Bradley. Feels so good.”

You clench down tightly around him and Bradley had to force himself to not come right then and there. “I know,” he muttered through a tight jaw, his brows furrowing as you lean down and press multiple kisses to the scars on his throat and neck. “I know, baby, you feel so fucking good, too.”

“Bradley,” you whine, reaching a hand up and tugging on his hair. “I’m gonna come.”

Bradley, who had been holding off since he got you off in the Bronco, felt his body tense up as he helped you ride him until you had come for the third time since he got back. Your warmth floods around him and makes it easier to thrust up into you, and the fucked out expression you wore had him grunting as he came deep within you. “Fuck,” he rasped, keeping your body pressed firmly against his. 

Still buried in you, Bradley slides his hands up your body until he is able to grip the back of your shoulders and hold you against him as he moves to lay on his side. You laugh loudly, wrapping your leg around his waist and draping your arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he murmured as he pressed kisses to your neck, his hand blindly reaching for your left one. He pulled back to be able to look at your ring for a few seconds, a dumb grin taking over his lips once he looked back at you. “I can’t believe we’re gonna get married. I mean, I can, but I can’t.”

You shake your head and lean up to kiss the base of his throat, feeling his deep groan against your lips. “Let’s go to the Hard Deck later,” you offer with a teasing smile.

He groaned again and shook his head, wrapping you up tighter in his arms and moving back up to the pillows. “No, baby, I wanna stay home with you all night,”

The movement caused him to shift slightly inside you, making you hold back a whine at the nearly overwhelming feeling of sensitivity. You couldn’t believe he had made you come three times in under an hour, when you couldn’t even do that after spending multiple hours trying to. “But we have some exciting news to share with our friends,” you state and run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it out.

Bradley furrows his brows as he runs his hand up and down your back. “What do you mean?” He asks, pulling back to be able to look at you when you didn’t respond. Realization kicked in and his eyes widened a bit. “You didn’t tell anyone?”

You smile and shake your head. “No, I wanted us to tell them together. I hid my ring in public,” you say. “Why, who did you tell?”

“Only Jake, like, right after it happened,” he says as he finally pulls out and sits up against the headboard. You prop yourself up on your elbow and trail your fingers over the crevices of his abs, your mind a bit hazy at just how fit he is. “I swear, if he’s already told everyone I will make sure he does not get invited to the wedding. I don’t care if he’s our friend.” 

“Our friend?” You ask with wide eyes. “I knew you two made up! Bradley, I’m so happy! You two were feuding for way too long.”

“That wasn’t my fault. Yeah, I fucked up first, but he’s the one who never gave me the time of day after you and I got back together,” he pointed out and wrapped his hand around your wrist, his thumb twirling your ring around. “He acted like I didn’t feel guilty for six weeks straight after we…broke up.”

“Bradley,” you trail off, sitting up and nuzzling into his side. “No more thinking about that day. Look at us now. We’re engaged. You’re going to be my husband, Bradley. Everything worked out in the end.”

He nodded and kissed the side of your head, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll always feel bad about it, though,” he mumbled but before you could scold him again he added, “Fuck it, we’re going out tonight. I can’t wait to show you off to everyone. Nat is going to freak the fuck out.”

-

“So, before we go in there, we need to address something,” Bradley says as you and he stand outside the Hard Deck. He wore tight fitting jeans and a pale blue and white Hawaiian shirt, and he looked damn near edible, you almost wanted to turn right back around so he could get you off for a fourth time. 

Thinking he was referring to your secret engagement, you move closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “What is it?”

He grips your waist and the smirk that formed on his lips was all you needed to see to realize it wasn’t about the engagement. “This whole ‘daddy’ thing wasn’t a one time thing, right? Please don’t say it was a one time thing,”

You blush a bit and match his smirk, dropping your arms as you lean up and whisper, “Let’s go share our news, daddy,”

Bradley held back a groan as he blindly reached behind him and pulled open the door. You enter the Hard Deck tucked securely under his arm, your left hand hidden away in his back pocket. As soon as Nat locked eyes with him she was pushing her way through the crowd of aviators and throwing herself into her best friend’s arms. “I’m so happy you’re back,” she admitted and Bradley laughed as he hugged her back. “I gotta say, Y/n and I’s girl days weren’t really girl days at all. She spent the whole time whining about how much she missed you. It was sad, really.”

Your face heats up and you look away quickly, making Bradley grin down at you once he pulls away from the hug. “Yeah, well, I’m sure Jake feels the same way you do, Nat,” he said as he pulled you back into his side. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” she said back, looking between you and him. “It’s even better to see you two back together. So, when’s the wedding? I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t asked you to marry him yet.”

You and Bradley share a not-so-obvious look and Nat raises a brow.

“What? What am I missing…” she trailed off once you lifted your left hand and showed her the ring you spent the last two months hiding from her. Her face stayed a bit expressionless as she looked at the ring, then it was as a switch flipped as she let out a small squeal before covering her mouth. “You guys are engaged?! When? Where? How did this happen? Damn, Rooster, you haven’t even been home for twenty four hours yet and you already proposed to her?”

“As if,” he scoffed. “No, I proposed to her two months ago.”

Nat looked over at you with shock all over her face. “What? What the fuck, Y/n, how did you hide that from me?” 

You shrugged. “I’m good at hiding things, I guess,”

This time Nat was the one to scoff. “Yeah, right. You couldn’t even keep your crush on Rooster a secret,” she said and you press your lips together in slight embarrassment when you hear Bradley laugh next to you. “We all knew you were in love with him from the night you met. You weren’t smooth about it at all.”

Bradley looks down at you with a teasing smile. “Aw,” 

“Hey, you weren’t smooth about it, either,” Nat added, making his smile drop. “I can’t believe you guys are engaged! It took you long enough.” She moved to hug him again then moved onto you. 

“Only you and Jake know now,” you say as you hug her back. “We’re going to announce it here.”

She pulled back with a barely concealed smile. “How did he go about it? Was it romantic?”

You look up at him with a sheepish grin. “He did it back on the dock before he left for his deployment. It was pretty romantic,”

Nat looked over at him as well. “Damn, Bradley, you left right after proposing?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t wait any longer,”

“You guys are seriously so cute. I’m so happy for you,” she beamed. “Now please tell everyone else. I have a big mouth and I’m refraining from screaming right now.”

And that was how you found yourself surrounded by the dagger squad, a beer in everyone’s hands as they congratulated you on your engagement. “Thank God you two got here before I did,” Jake said as he stood next to you at the bar. “I thought big mouth over here would’ve told everyone the second she left that dock. I was going to bring it up with Javy later. That would’ve been pretty awkward.” He nudged you and you rolled your eyes.

“Thanks for not spoiling the surprise, Jake,” you say and lean up to kiss his cheek.

“Congrats, sweetheart,” he winked at you and wandered off towards the dart board. 

You turn to Bradley and find him grinning at you, and you weren’t able to smile back before he was leaning down and kissing you. “I love you,” he mumbles once he pulls away. 

“I love you,” you say back and look down at the bar. “Hey, this is where we met. In this exact spot.”

Bradley, too, looked down and his smile only grew. “Would you look at that,” he said as he set his empty beer down before taking your half full one from your hand. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest, his hand finding yours and his thumb turning your ring again. “Look where we are now. We’re getting married. We belong together, pretty girl.”

“Took you long enough to realize it,” you teased and he just shook his head before kissing you again.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Noé getting reduced to a teary-eyed, whimpering mess by his femdom s/o?

tags: bdsm, mistress/pet, bondage, noé bimbo aesthetic, f/m

Noé had never been drowned before, but he had to imagine this was what it was like.

The constant gasping for air that never quite filled his lungs. The struggle to keep focused on just keeping your head above. The moments of listlessness when your mind floats between trying to catch up and surrendering to the black. “Stay with me Noé.”

His head lulled back in a dim, empty headed sort of way. Like his brains are sloshing around in his skull for want of thoughts, as he obeyed his mistress. She doesn’t even need to tilt his head up with the tilt of her finger. He’d follow the sound of her voice anywhere.

“That’s it. Such a good boy.” Noé let out an opened mouth whine as she ran her thumb over his bottom lip. His mouth is open so he can try to get air into his lungs. Surely not to speak as he couldn’t think of words right now. All his mouth was good for was breathing, drooling, and servicing his mistress.

“You’ve done so well, my love. You’re always so obedient for me.”

‘Anything for you’ he wants to tell her, but all he can get out is a gurgle of a moan in appreciation.

“Oh, if only I could keep you like this forever. Lust drunk. Practically paralyzed with overstimulation. Just keep you here with me forever, tied up like this, blindfolded in the dark. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Forever!’ Noé lifted up on his knees towards his mistress, as much as his binds would allow. Oh, how wonderful that would be indeed. To never have to fight monsters again. To never have to deal with liars. To never have to worry about people’s intentions, or false faces. To only be hurt when he asked for it, begged for it. To do nothing but live and love and serve his mistress for all eternity. He wanted to cry it sounded so perfect.

Noé wanted to actually cry when his mistress pushed him down. Back on his knees, sitting on his ankles, where he belonged. He should have known better. So stupid.

“Don’t say that!” His mistress snapped. Had he actually said that bit out loud? “You are not stupid. You, are my perfect, sweet Noé. Don’t ever forget that.”

He nuzzled eagerly into the hand that touched his cheek. A tear actually spilling out from under his blindfold but he couldn’t tell what it was from now. Desire, torment, relief. It all swirled around inside his body and empty head that he couldn’t make up from down. “Shall we make love now, my precious Noé?”

Then his world was righted again. Hyper focused. Noé nodded so hard that he might have given himself whiplash, but he didn't care. All of this had been leading up to this moment: release. The teasing. The binding. The sweet words and harsh cracks of her crop against his skin. All of it just for this.

He suddenly remembered how hard his cock was and how much it hurt. Noé whimpered. His thighs rubbing together to try and relieve some of the pressure. "Awww....I know honey. It must hurt now, doesn't it." He nodded. Whining out confirmation from his throat before he was panting in sharp breathes as she cupped him. He had been desperate for her touch, but now that he had it it was too much. "You want to cum, don't you Noé? Make you feel good."

He whimpered out something close to a yes again. His body quivering as he tries to stay still and not cum. He hadn't been given permission. But he wants so badly to fuck himself into her hand that it hurts almost as bad as his cock.

His world went tumbling when his mistress pushed him back. When had there been a pillow behind him? Was he on the bed? Noé expected the sharp bite of the floor against his back, but instead was met with soft linens. He moaned almost as loudly as when he was being touched. Surrounded by softness he melted into the bedding. What little of his senses fading away as he sunk deeper into the plush fabric.

“Stay with me Noé.” She repeated to him, and he was really trying.

His bed shifted. Her feet on either side of him as she stood over him. He couldn’t see it with the blindfold, but he could sense it. Her looming presence all consuming him. He whimpered to be dominated further by it. His mistress kneeled to straddle him and Noé hissed like the savage humans painted his species as as his erection brushed against the front of her. How the tables had turned in the story. The strong, fierce, blood crazy monster all but broken before his weak, defenseless, human mistress.

“I’m going to fuck you now Noé.” She told him while stroking his cock. Stroke was a strong word, however, as it was just her fingertips caressing him. “I’m going to fill myself with your cock and ride you. Use you for my pleasure.” ‘Use me! Use me!’ “You’re going to feel so good inside me. You always do. Don’t worry, it won’t be long. I’ve been so turned on watching you fall apart that I’ll be cumming very soon. Then, and only then, I’ll let you cum, my precious. Sounds like a deal?”

There was no sweeter deal that the devil could offer him. Noé mustered up all what little strength, mental capacity, and just plain voice he could to utter out one single word. “Yes.” It was all he could say. All he needed to. His mistress raised herself up and sunk down on his cock, and Noé screamed like he had been stabbed; instead of him being the one stabbing her.

His mistress was indeed wet. Drenched, actually. He took a small amount of comfort in knowing that she really had been turned on by him. Aroused by his presence. Desired him. It’s a subconscious thought at best, however, as all he can legitimately think about right now is the primal instinct to fuck & cum, but holding on to what little restraint he had left to not do so until his mistress told him.

“Almost….there…!”

Noé’s teeth grit. He could taste his own blood his jaw was locked so tight. He didn’t think he had it in him to hold on. He was crying, wailing, begging. Noé wasn’t sure what he was doing until he heard those wonderful words that would set him free. “Yes Noé! Yes! Cum from me! Give it to me my love!”

He came extremely hard. To the point that the darkness behind his blindfold was a moot point as his mental vision even darkened as he came and came for what seemed like hours.

When it was over, Noé realized that his mistress wasn’t on top of him anymore. He jerked up, or as much as his exhausted body could, but then a cool hand and a cool rag was placed on him. “Not too fast. We don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Noé sighed as he felt the rag wash over his body to clean him. His oversensitive, overstimulated body soaking in the coolness eagerly. His breath calming down. His mind coming back to him.

“I’m gonna take the blindfold off now. Close your eyes.”

He does, immediately. The covering is removed and Noé slowly opened his eyes. Vampire eyes were very sensitive. It’s why they used the blindfold in the first place. But he had to adjust to the light when they were done playing. His arms were next. Untethered behind his back now, and they fall forward limp into his lap.

“Are you alright?” Noé nodded. He still didn’t have the mental capacity to speak. His head lulled forward to rest on his mistress’s shoulder. Her arms coming up around him instantly. Smoothing his hair. “My sweet Noé….”

She continued to shower him with quiet, soft praise as his mind succumbed to black again. Only this time to sleep. He was exhausted. Sated. When he woke up he and his mistress would go back to the world, play their normal roles instead of the ones they played here. For now, he would hold on to the ones they had in here, in this room. Where he was her perfect, willing, obedient pet, and she would be the one to take care of him.

[traveler-at-heart]

Finding Home - Part 3

Summary: This is a series imagining what it was life for Natasha after joining S.H.I.E.L.D.

Warnings: Violence, injuries.

Part 1, Part 2

There were only five people in the room.

“Jericho missiles” Fury says as soon as the door is shut. Clint looks at you, alarmed.

“What are those?” Natasha says and Maria turns to the screen.

“Developed by Tony Stark. Selects a target, at a certain height it splits into 16 smaller missiles to have a cleaner impact. The shockwave is also more devastating”

There’s footage of tests conducted in military facilities playing on the screen.

“Obadiah Stane sold five of these to the Ten Rings. Stark was able to destroy them all. Or so he thought” Fury pushes three identical folders in the direction of Clint, Natasha and you.

“There are still two” Clint confirms after skimming through the file.

“At an abandoned factory, close to the Canadian border” Natasha reads out loud, going through all the information at record speed.

“So on a scale of one to ten, how heavily guarded are these bad boys?” you ask Fury.

“They have grenades up their asses”

“So, like a seven”

“Not funny, Agent” he warns, but you turn to Natasha, who let out a small chuckle.

“She thinks it is”

“It will get old really fast. Trust me” the man says and she rolls her eyes. “You leave tomorrow, before the Ten Rings decide it’s time to light up the sky in an American city”

“Let’s go over strategy today. Natasha’s suit and weapons should be ready” Maria proposes.

“I’m looking at the Widow Bites” you interrupt.

“Farley said that if you messed with his tech again he’d quit” Fury reminds you.

“Good riddance. He’s an idiot and she’s not going on a mission with faulty equipment”

“Fine. Hill” Fury nods in confirmation and they leave the room.

“What was that?” Natasha turns to you, but you shrug your shoulders, projecting the map of the factory and reading the file.

“Oh, now you’re modest about it?” Clint teases. “Y/N here is an MIT graduate. Mechanical Engineering, top of the class”

“It was a small class”

“If she wasn’t an agent she’d be running the design department. Made my arrows ten times lighter and faster. Deadly too”

“That’s enough. I just want to make sure Nat has the best equipment” you wave dismissively, still looking at the map.

It’s an important mission, yes. But your priority is Natasha.

—

“Fucking Farley” you mutter for the tenth time, making Clint chuckle.

As suspected, the Widow Bites have a short range and the voltage isn’t enough to incapacitate enemies, so you’ll be fixing that as everyone else discusses the plan.

“Y/N is coming in first. Once she disables the security, Romanoff and I will go set the explosives for the missiles” Clint says, going over the map of the warehouse.

“I’m not leaving her alone” Natasha says and while you keep your eyes on the Widow bites, correcting the wiring, you smile.

“It’s fine, Nat. It’s my area of expertise. I’ll hack their systems, keep an eye out and will join you once the explosives are set” you look up, nodding her way. Maria walks in, looking over your shoulder. “Tell Fury he needs to kick fuckface Farley to the curve”

“Noted, Brains. Which one of you will be Brawn?” Maria turns, smiling teasingly at Natasha and Clint.

“I’m Beauty” Clint says, turning to Natasha. “Romanoff?”

“Sorry to break it to you, but Natasha is all three” you say, removing the magnifying glasses and stretching your back. “Is it dinner time yet?”

“Our order should be ready. I’ll pick it up” Natasha offers, taking the car keys.

“Don’t forget about the…”

“Extra rice, yes” she rolls her eyes and Clints follows right behind, ready to take a break.

Maria sits right next to you, and you don’t need to turn around to know she’s staring.

“Yes, Hill?”

“So when are you asking her out?”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, come on” she pushes your chair and you roll away, annoyed. “You compliment her, she knows about your special order, the pining and the heart eyes”

“I’m one of the few people who treat her like a human being. That’s all” you say, hoping it’s the end of the conversation. Maria throws you a paper ball, just like in your academy days and you snort. “Ass. Yes, I like her. But she’s barely had a life. I can’t ask her out and make it awkward. Natasha needs to live and experience things and once she knows what she wants… maybe I’ll do something about my feelings. Until then…” you point at your friend, and she nods, motioning as if her lips are sealed.

You just hope your feelings for Natasha won’t get in the way of this mission.

—

The air is colder than you anticipated.

“Good to go?” Clint says, looking over his shoulder. You try your comms and go over the equipment. Once you nod, he lowers the jet, counting down to prepare you for the fall.

“Be careful” Natasha says. It’s the first things she’s said to you since you left headquarters.

“Chinese for dinner?” you say with a smile, hoping that it will ease the tension. Natasha nods and you wave, jumping into the darkness.

The landing is a bit rougher than you would have wanted since the parachute was dragged around by the wind, but nothing is broken and you can disable the security alarm in the hatch.

From there, your next stop is to the control room. There’s only one man monitoring the cameras, and you knock him unconscious before he can reach for his gun.

“I’m in. You have twenty minutes” you announce.

“Got it”

Out of pure curiosity, you look over at the computer on the side, browsing through the files.

“Clint” you say as you stumble upon Stark’s designs.

“I’m kinda busy” he says, installing the explosives around the warehouse.

“They have intelligence on other Stark weaponry. Should I make a copy and then clean up their files?”

“Proceed. But be on the lookout, we’re almost done here”

“I can multitask” you say, pulling out a drive to copy all the files. The encryption will have to be done later, but for now, eliminating everything they have should be enough.

Either way, the entire building is blowing up in a few minutes.

An alarm blares across every hallway, and you look up, surprised.

“What the fuck, Y/N? We’re not done here” Barton barks, clearly in a hurry to finish the job now that you’ve been discovered.

“It wasn’t me” you say, frantically looking at the cameras. There’s a man with long hair that frames his face, covered up to his eyes with a dark mask. “We have company. I’m locking the doors on your side, exit through the vent”

“That means you won’t be able to get out” Natasha protests.

“I’ll find another way and meet you. You have to go. Our friend here seems to be… in a hurry”

Your blood runs cold when you see him punching his way through the guards. He is a super soldier, judging by his strenght and now you’re trapped with him on this side of the building.

“Fuckfuckfuck”

Pulling the drive to your pocket, you leave the room and go to the side farthest away from the man.

The thing is, he seems to be going through the walls instead of using doors, so the distance grows smaller with each of his steps.

“Natasha is gone” Clint informs you as you’re sneaking around. That makes you stop in your tracks.

“Bullshit”

She wouldn’t.

“The minute we were out she ran away in the opposite direction. I’m on the jet now. Give me your location”

“East side of the…”

The sound of metal and concrete cracking surprises you from behind, and you come face to face with the man.

He takes your gun and twists your arm, but you aim at one of the pipes in the ceiling to give you a few seconds to run. You can feel him going right behind you, dangerously close.

“The building is blowing up in five minutes, Y/N” Clint says.

“Thanks, I’m trying not to get killed by fucking Frankenstein” a heavy metal arm pulls you down, punching you two times until you’re gasping for air.

He then kicks you down a couple of stairs, and you hang on to the railing by an inch. Once he glances over to check if you’re still alive, you shoot at his eyes, protected by the mask.

Wrong move, as he’s not pleased in the slightest.

Dropping a few feet to the ground, you begin to run down the exit.

A few things happen at the same time.

You turn and see Natasha, breaking a door. You smile at her. Of course she wouldn’t leave. Her eyes widen, and when you turn around, the man is raising his gun.

Two shots and then you’re down, hot liquid spilling down your stomach and leg.

“Y/N” Natasha screams, throwing Widow Bites to the man. His arm is briefly paralized and Natasha takes advantage of the moment to help you up. You limp against her, feeling the building shake.

“Come on, Clint is waiting outside”

Luckily, the ceiling behind you begins to fall, putting some concrete between you and the man.

The next minutes are confusing, since you struggle to remain conscious.

“HQ, this is Barton. We have an agent down. We’ll be there soon” you hear Clint report. There’s a pressure in your abdomen but you can’t look down. “Natasha, I have to fly this thing, keep her awake”

“Y/N” the woman says, trying to stop the bleeding. “Look at me. You can’t fall asleep now”

“I’ll be fine. You were great today, Natasha. I knew you’d be a great agent. Would you tell my mom that I…?”

“Tell her yourself”

“Don’t be a сука” you mumble, your eyelids heavier.

“What is the one thing you always wanted to do?” she asks, desperate to keep you talking.

“I always wanted a cat. My sister’s allergic” you drag your words. But then, you turn to the redhead, smiling. “What about you?”

“A rollercoaster” Natasha says without hesitation. Your smile grows.

“We’ll go to Connie Island, it’s gonna be so much fun…”

“Y/N, stay with me, don’t close your eyes”

But you’re too tired to listen.

—

“Her family should be here any minute” Fury steps in, eyeing your bruised face. Three surgeries later and the doctors think you have a pretty good chance of recovering.

Natasha and Clint are sitting by your side, their eyes glued to the monitor that keeps beeping.

“The man… had any of you seen him before?”

“I thought he was a myth” Natasha says, the image of the metal arm and the symbol on it etched on her brain. “They call him the Winter Soldier”

“KGB?” Clint guesses.

“HYDRA”

“That’s ten times worse” Fury sighs, turning to the Russian. “We’ll need your help to figure out who he is. But for now… nice job”

“I should have done more” Natasha says when Fury leaves the room.

“She’s alive because of you” Clint protests. “But you should let me know, I thought you were running away. When you want to pull a rescue, at least tell me where to fly the jet”

“Ok” the redhead nods.

“Let’s get something to eat. You know Y/N wouldn’t want you to starve yourself”

—

When Natasha and Clint come back to your room, Maria is talking to an older woman. She has eyes like yours, and a smilar hair color, which makes Natasha think it’s your mother.

“You saved my daughter” she says as soon as Natasha walks in. Your mother hugs her tight, thanking her.

She has no idea that this is all new to Natasha, especially the hugging part.

“Let’s go over some forms” Maria rescues the redhead, walking the older woman to the door.

Her words echo and Natasha goes over them till she loses count.

She’s never saved a life before. She never had someone thanking her for keeping a loved one safe.

Maybe, there’s hope for her after all.

—

It’s been a few days and you have yet to open your eyes.

Natasha stays next to you, and reads out loud the way you did for her. Your mom is in the couch, knitting as she listens, keeping an eye on the girl.

Even if she’s not aware of Natasha’s circunstamces, she can tell there are strong feelings involved between you two.

“How long have you been at SHIELD?” the woman says, examining the green pattern on the scarf she’s knitting.

“Not long” Natasha tenses, hoping it won’t be necessary to bring up her past as a former assassin.

“Y/N’s father was in the CIA. Her sisters were more… I don’t know. They argued over clothes and wanted to wear makeup. Y/N would work on cars with her dad or build stuff”

“That sounds nice”

“It was, yes. Drives me crazy that she risks her life for a living. But it’s in her blood, I guess”

“She’s a great agent. And a wonderful person. You did a good job raising her”

“You’re too kind” the woman says, pulling the scarf and presenting it to the redhead. “Here. This color brings out your beautiful eyes”

Natasha is hesitant as she takes the green scarf, inspecting the fine knitting and feeling the softness of the fabric against her fingertips.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you”

“Thank you. For saving her. I’m happy to know my daughter has wonderful partners. I like you, Natasha”

“I’m glad to hear that, because I kinda gave her the secret pasta recipe” you say with a weak voice, making both women rush to your side.

“Oh, sweetheart” your mom says, running her hands through your hair.

“Sorry to make you come all the way here. I know you hate flying”

“No, don’t be silly. Plus, I’ve spent some time getting to know Natasha. You guys make a great couple”

“Ma!” you protest, the monitor beeping loudly as your mother teases you. “Would you be a dear and get the doctor? I really want to eat something that isn’t hospital food”

Your mother rolls her eyes, but leaves and you stare at Natasha.

“Thank you for saving me”

“It’s nothing”

“It’s not nothing. I’m alive because of you, Natasha Romanoff”

“I guess it’s our thing, isn’t it? Saving each other” she smiles, her hand inching towards yours.

“Yes. Yes it is”

—

The doctor promises you’ll be discharged in a few days, but there’s a long road ahead for your recovery. At least six months without missions.

Fury stops by, surprising you.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, eyeing the box of chocolates that Maria brought you. “You mind?”

“Help yourself, boss” he picks a sweet and nods approvingly, clearly stalling. “Come on, you’re not one to sugarcoat things”

“The drive you took. It does have some very detailed information on Stark’s tech. I know we discussed an undercover mission a while back… but I decided to send Natasha instead”

“As what? I was supposed to be a new engineer on his team”

“Legal. Close to Pepper Potts. And hopefully, Agent Romanoff will charm Stark”

“Oh, Nick. Come on, not the playboy angle” you protest. There’s an unpleasant feeling at the pit of your stomach as you imagine Natasha dealing with Stark’s advances.

“It is what we have, Y/L/N. Take some time, recover and come back. I have a feeling we’ll need all the help we can get”

“Yes, Director Fury” you nod, as Natasha walks in. The man nods, and you can tell he trusts Natasha now. It’s a relief.

“How are you feeling?” Natasha says, pulling the usual chair next to your bed.

“Happy that I get to go home. soon Not so excited over my mom running around my place cleaning and complaining”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could stay but…”

“You have missions. I heard you’re booked and busy, Agent Romanoff”

“Well, yes” she smiles, blushing lightly.

“Is that what you want? Because that’s all that matters to me”

“I want to do good. Clean my ledger”

“You’ll do great. I know it” you reach for her hand, smiling.

“I could… put it off. For a few months. It won’t be a big deal”

But you can see how eager she is. To prove herself she’s so much more than the Red Room. That she’s not just the Black Widow.

She’s Natasha Romanoff.

“I’m not going anywhere, Nat. You’ll always have me. Ok?”

“Ok” she nods, looking away, but keeping her hand in yours.

Deep down, you knew this was only the start of your journey together.

[theprismyyy]

can you make a headcannon of gwen having a introvert or super shy girlfriend?

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend

Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader

Tw: Nothing, basically just cuteness (not revised)

(English is not my first language)

I feel like this could be better, but honestly I'm not at my best... so I guess that's it, I still hope you like it ❤️

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ I feel like Gwen is an ambivert type of person, so she can kind of be on both sides of the coin depending on the situation or her mood in day. Either way, this girl would be super understanding with you, always trying her best to make sure you are comfortable in her surroundings.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ If you were in a circle of people talking and she noticed that you had something to say, she would do her best to help you to integrate into the conversation, in addition to listening carefully to what you have to say.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend----------- Whenever you are in very crowded places, she keeps her hand firmly attached to yours, arms intertwined, hand in your back pocket, around your shoulder, on your waist or belt strap, in general anything that helps her stay close and not end up losing you in the middle of so many people (she also wants you to have this guarantee that it is there and not going anywhere).

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend----------- If you're the type who's too embarrassed to ask for directions on the street or order your own food, she wouldn't mind doing it for you. But she always tries to encourage you in a healthy way, obviously, to do it alone and be SUPER proud when you succeed, even if you stutter or fumble a little while speaking she still couldn't be most proud of your girl😭 she is your number one supporter.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- I imagine a scenario where you would have to present a project in class, in front of the whole class and you're like: Internal screams, anxiety, hyperventilating, wanting to faint, cry and vomit all at once. But Gwen is such a supportive and understanding girlfriend that she would never diminish the way you feel about it, and instead of saying it's silly and that you need to learn to deal, she tries her best to set aside at least one hour a day (either in person or via video calls), to help you practice your lines, comforting you and giving you words of support.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- Who when the dreaded presentation day finally arrived, would sit with you under the stairs about an hour early and just She would let you go over your lines if things were really bad for you, she would help you with breathing exercises and even hold your hair if you were the kind of person who needed to throw up. Regardless of anything, when the time finally came she would be right up front to hear everything you had to say, sussurrando palavras de conforto sempre que você gaguejasse, now...if by chance she doesn't have that particular class with you, make SURE she would be standing at the room window or opening the door to watch the presentation, with a big proud smile and a thumbs up as confirmation that you are doing well.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- No matter what grade the teacher gave you on that presentation paper, she would be there for you congratulate you and tell you that you were incredible simply for having the courage to go in front of everyone to speak, that this is how you start and that soon you would be doing it to the letter.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- The beginning of the relationship would be so weirdly cute and funny, this girl is crazy and hungry for physical touch, but you don't know exactly how comfortable you are with that, you're both a shy mess and too embarrassed to ask each other.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend—------- But things start to flow and work naturally little by little, until you finally reach your first kiss. Gwen would probably be the one to initiate it... and you to walk away, not because you didn't like it but because it was unexpected, like, you were casually at her house at a sleepover, talking and being silly teenagers when suddenly she He leaned over and kissed you, more like a peck since you got scared and went to the other side of the room 😭😭 (you didn't talk about it for about three days).

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- The first time the two of you actually kiss without running away from each other is at an even more random moment, you're in the bathroom, Gwen leaning against the sink counter as you fix your makeup in the mirror. As soon as you finish, you approach Gwen softly, both of you with a silly smile on your face when she compliments some of your makeup, it's just a super sweet interaction before you realize how close you are to each other, how you wouldn't need to lean in so much for touching your lips and how your breaths seem to mix perfectly.

Then they both go in for the kiss…and damn, that's awkward.

A small shy peck, followed by lots of silly giggles that barely allow you to put your lips together properly, hands shaking and not knowing where to rest, your teeth they probably clash a little...but at the same time as it's strange it's also so adorable. Soon you find a little rhythm that is still shy, but more comfortable for both of them, with Gwen holding her face with an almost crushing softness and her (very shaky) hands resting and delicately gripping her waist her. Anyway, a student ends up getting in the middle of this, disrupting this little moment and making the two of them separate like scared cats (you still laugh about that whenever you remember)

© 2023 theprismyyy — please do not copy, translate or repost any of my works without my permission.

[cinnbar-bun]

Hello ~

Is it possible to request some general SFW/NSFW headcanons for Robin ? Your writing is so good and overall so wholesome it makes my heart melt. 🥺🥺

Have a nice day/night. ❤️

Nico Robin SFW + NSFW HCs

A/n: Aw, thank you for the lovely compliment dear. I hope you enjoy these <3

Note: Reader is GN. The hcs start off kinda angsty at first but gets nicer and happier (since we are dealing with Robin here). We as a society do not deserve Robin.

SFW

Robin is a very elegant and classy woman, and it’s no different when it comes to relationships.

She doesn’t like to push boundaries and often tries not to make too many “bold” moves in the beginning. She prefers to tread carefully when it comes to you, and she’d hate for her to be the one who hurts you.

Honestly it’s kinda difficult for her to express her insecurities in the beginning because she’s grown with the crew, but she feels as if she’s starting from scratch when you two are official. She worries she’ll mess up and hurt you, and then everything she’s done with the Straw Hats will have meant nothing and she was always the trouble everyone was warned about.

Please be kind to her, eventually she’ll fully realize just how much she has grown and that she’s not a devil. Just be verbal with her and tell her what you feel, and she’ll take note of your feelings and preferences.

Robin never really thought of romance in her life, always assuming it was a silly fantasy that would just end up getting her killed. Thus, she can get caught off guard when you do romantic things for her.

She prefers sentimental gifts for this reason. If you write her a poem, no matter how bad it is, she’s treasuring it. Give her an album of memories together? She looks through it almost every night and might decorate it more. When it’s handcrafted, it’s proof that YOU took the time to make something for HER. It’s proof that YOU did this and that YOU really are hers and a part of her life. Something that is so “you” makes her heart beat faster.

Surprise her with random dates or taking the initiative. Yes, I know Robin is the mom figure, and just like a mom, sometimes she needs a mental (and physical) break. If you go to her and say you have dinner reservations at a restaurant or want to take her shopping or to a cafe- the happiness and shock on her face is immense.

She's so used to doing things for others that “princess treatment” is so foreign to her and admittedly, she finds it’s very nice to be taken care of. Surprise dates every once in a while keep her on her toes and are another confirmation to her that you really love her.

But sometimes, it’s nice to just relax beside you. Robin is not too talkative in general, so often you two might spend time reading/doing something in the same room silently or cuddling each other. Robin really lets her guard down with you and it’s such a treat to see her smile so softly and that adoring look in her eyes too-

Side note: can you imagine Robin being so comfortable with you that she may just infodump about history or whatever she’s reading? Oh my god, the way she’s excitedly discussing a historical event or plant or something out loud because you just make her feel so safe until she realizes oops she’s rambling to you then looks up at you only to see you looking and listening at her because you love how happy she looks and how much she loves her job??? She just melts. (I’m melting too I love my wife)

Robin often tilts your chin to her and gives you a peck on your cheek then winks as she walks away.

NSFW

Y’all knew this Robin is ON TOP!!!

I don’t think she’d specifically have a mommy kink but if you called her that she’d chuckle and find it humorous and play along. It does grow on her after a while.

A tease. Truly, she will live up to her moniker of Devil Child with the way she teases you. Whether it’s whispering she’s not wearing any panties or is wearing a certain lingerie you like, or bending down to show off her assets to you, or straight up summoning a hand to touch you discreetly- she’s evil.

But, she is a very rewarding lover, and she, after hours (or what feels like hours) of hell, will finally give you the touches you so crave.

Loves adding sex toys to the mix. Her many hands are wonderful in teasing you further. She admittedly wanders into the sex shops to get something new for you guys to experiment with.

Lingerie isn’t something she wears often, so when she does, that’s a sign she really wants to fuck you or has something special planned for you.

Not a particularly hard dom. She prefers to spoil or at least just use some power dynamics. She won’t beat you black and blue or choke the life outta you- I doubt she would consider doing such a thing. It would take a lot to convince her to get “harder” on you if you are a big masochist.

She tends to leave plenty of hickies on you. But sometimes she leaves one that’s a bit more exposed to others. If you complain about it, she’ll apologize with a smile and say she just didn’t realize- but with the way she’s standing so proudly, it’s more likely she did it on purpose just to tease you again. She’s more possessive than she lets on.

So, we all know she uses her Devil Fruit to tease you. Extra hands and stuff to maybe hold you down or touch you elsewhere- it’s to be expected. Sometimes, though, she gets a bit experimental and (after the time skip) will summon another full clone of herself to get involved in your bedroom activities.

Doesn’t mind threesomes (beyond the ones with a clone of herself), and is willing to try them. Only thing is that they need to be a close confidant of hers, otherwise she’d feel rather awkward or uncertain about their motivations. (Who you want that third person to be is up to your imagination, dear <3)

Aftercare is lovely, and often consists of you two sitting in a bath together. She can’t use her powers in the bath, so this is another way of letting her guard down with you and showing you how much she trusts you.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Boyfriend

Written for @hinnymicrofic November 2023 - Prompt 1

So this didn't go in quite the direction I thought it would, and ended up being a bit less micro than I expected. Hopefully the Hinny isn't too tangential!

It was late by the time Harry made his way back to the Gryffindor dormitory. This had nothing at all to do with his desire to avoid both Ron and Dean, and everything to do with spending as much time with Ginny as physically possible - but he couldn’t deny it was a very happy side effect.

He took a moment to make sure his shirt was properly buttoned again, and tried to flatten his hair in a futile attempt to make it look like he hadn’t spent the past however-many-hours with Ginny in a variety of locations around the school grounds resolutely not discussing the Ravenclaw match. 

In the distance, he heard a door open, followed by a chorus of high-pitched squeals that cut off sharply as the door closed again. Clearly Ginny had reached her own dormitory. A soppy grin spread over his face as he thought of her again, no longer needing to imagine the taste of her lips, or the feel of her body pressed close to his. Unfortunately, this thought ensured that he needed to take a few more moments to compose himself before heading into his own dormitory.

When he finally pushed open the door, it was to discover that there was both good news and bad news. The good news was that Neville was already fast asleep, and (even better) neither Dean nor Seamus was there. Quite where they were given it was now well past curfew was a problem for someone else - Harry was perfectly happy to take the win. 

The bad news was that Ron was very definitely there, and even more definitely awake. He was lying on his bed, fully clothed, hands behind his head, trying (Harry thought) very hard to look nonchalant. 

Ron acknowledged his arrival with a nod. “Evening.”

“Evening,” replied Harry. He paused momentarily, then tried just as hard to look nonchalant as he strolled over to his own bed, and opened his truck to put his cloak back inside. Maybe, he hoped against hope, Ron wasn’t going to say anything else.

“So,” said Ron. 

Fuck, thought Harry.

“You and Ginny.”

“Uh huh. Me and Ginny,” replied Harry, hoping that his tone was as light and non-committal as he intended.

“You’re her boyfriend now, then?” asked Ron. 

Ron sounded conversational. Unconcerned. Calm. Harry was not fooled, not for one second. He shrugged awkwardly. He closed his trunk, then took as long as humanly possible to locate his pyjamas under his pillow. “Umm. Yeah. I guess so.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know so?” he asked, sharply.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Uh - no, I am,” he scrambled. “I definitely am.”

Ron cocked his head to one side. “Huh.”

Silence. Merciful silence. So why, Harry thought, was he suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to fill it? He fought it as hard as he could but ultimately, failed dismally.

“I mean, I asked her, officially, if that was what she wanted. And she said yes. So… Yeah, I’m her boyfriend. And… I really like her. I have done for ages. I… I’m not just messing about.”

More silence. Ron nodded thoughtfully. 

“So are we… y’know, are we still good?” asked Harry, hopefully.

Ron gave him a hard stare. “Well that depends, doesn’t it?”

Harry swallowed hard. “It does?” 

Ron’s brows wrinkled. “Yeah. Obviously.” 

“Umm… what on?”

Ron looked at him as if he was exceptionally dim. “Harry, come on! She’s my sister! There are rules!”

Harry felt his heart sinking. This was the exact thing that he’d been afraid of, that had held him back for so long. And just when everything seemed to be falling into place. “There are?”

“Yeah. Rules,” confirmed Ron.

Harry couldn’t help himself. It was like he could see the headlights of the approaching lorry, and he just couldn’t seem to get out of the way. “And the rules would be….?”

Ron sighed. “Okay, if you’re going to make me spell it out for you.” He held up his hand, fingers splayed, ready to count them off. “Firstly, you don’t hurt her. Ever. In any way.”

Well that one was straightforward enough. “Got it.” 

“Secondly,” counted Ron, “whatever it was that I saw in the common room before, I don’t want to see that ever again.”

Well, that one might be a touch trickier, but he was sure they could be discreet. “Er… Okay?”

“Thirdly,” continued Ron, pointing at his middle finger, “you have to escort her to and from all her classes, carry her bag and her books, serve her at mealtimes, give her your coat if she’s cold, do any shopping she needs. You know, just generally look after her properly.”

Harry frowned. That sounded a bit full on, but even then, it wasn’t so much that he wouldn’t do it, more that he couldn't imagine Ginny letting him. “Er, Ron?” he began.

But Ron wasn’t listening. “Fourthly, you can’t be alone with her at any time. You need a chaperone, permanently.”

Harry blinked, hard. How on earth did Ron think that could possibly ever work? “What? Ron, I don’t think…” he protested.

Ron just ignored him. “Fifthly, you don’t touch her. Ever. Anywhere. I’ll let you off with the common room thing because we hadn’t talked, but you can’t lay another hand on her. Or any other bit of you, for that matter.”

And at that point, Harry decided he’d had enough. “Oh come on, Ron! This is ridiculous! You can’t really expect…” he began, hotly.

But before he could continue, a horrible strangled noise came from Neville’s bed, making him jump. He jerked his head towards the sound, then realised that Neville was shaking violently under his blankets.

“Oh my god, Ron! I think he’s having a fit!” Harry dashed to Neville’s side, visions of Ron convulsing in Slughorn’s study flashing through his head. Where was he going to get a bezoar this time? 

Harry pulled back Neville’s blanket and rolled his friend onto his back. Neville’s face was bright red and screwed up as though he was in pain. Except wait - no, that wasn’t pain, was it? It was… hang on, was it laughter? 

Utterly confused, Harry turned to look at Ron, to find that he, too, was now laughing so hard he was practically doubled up with it.

“I’m sorry, Ron,” gasped Neville. “I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. That was brilliant! I don’t know how you kept a straight face.”

“Oh, Harry - your face! It was priceless!” said Ron, tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t worry, Neville. I was running out of fingers anyway.”

“You mean… all those rules? You were making them up?” Harry couldn’t decide whether he was furious or relieved.

“We were talking while you were out, about how far Ron thought he could push you,” confessed Neville.

“Well, you just snogged my sister in front of pretty much everyone,” agreed Ron. “I reckoned I deserved a bit of payback.”

“So you’re not pissed off with me?” Harry checked. 

Ron shook his head. “Nah. If you’re nuts enough to actually willingly go out with Ginny, I reckon that’s punishment enough.” Then he looked thoughtful. “Though I really would appreciate you keeping the snogging to a minimum while I’m around.”

Finally, relief won out, and Harry’s face split into a grin of his own. “Deal.”

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter sixteen: Boo!

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: Reader scares Carlos, Max is overprotective, an unexpected visitor appears

Warnings: alcohol consumption, survivors guilt, arguing

Notes: After much deliberation, I've decided to let my affinity for even numbers win.

Previous <-

Masterlist

The sun is barely peaking over the edges of the sky as her and Lando walk hand in hand around the hungararing. Charles needed to be at the paddock early for his media duties. The two had decided to go with since they were up and let Max and Oscar sleep until the last minute.

The walk is peaceful. The shared airpods are playing soft music that Lando picked. Occasionally, he spins her around, or they stop to dance horribly.

It's so early that even the pitlane is empty. The occasional sound of tools can be heard, but no souls can be seen.

The music and Lando are so distracting that she doesn't notice anyone sneaking behind her. Hands grab her shoulder, which pulls a terrified gasp out of her. Instincts take over as she throws whoever it is behind her into the nearest wall. It's not hard, just enough to subdue. And scare- she supposes.

She holds whoever it was as her breath starts to even out. She can hear Lando and Charles laughing incredibly hard. Which is weird, because then who is she-?

"Carlos?!"

She releases her hold on him, and the spainard sinks to the ground. His expressions go through the five stages of grief.

"I told you not to scare her mate!" Charles is kneeling over in laughter.

She rushes to help him up. And to her shock, he lets her. She would have expected him to run in fear. Bolt to the nearest asylum and tell them to come get her.

"So, you're some kind of superhero? Or am I imagining things? Or are you really that strong?" Carlos asks questions faster than she could process. She's startled, overwhelmed, and frankly confused.

Charles comes to her rescue with his arms around her waist. "She's our superhero. If you tell anyone, you're dead."

"She looks like she feels bad for just shoving me against the wall."

"I never said it would be her doing the killing."

~~~~~

Charles flinches as Max slams the door behind him. He hates when any of them is angry. Max, however, has to be the worst.

Not because of anything he's doing wrong. The Dutch simply struggles to communicate when his emotions are flaring higher than normal. Charles hates seeing him so upset when all he wants is to keep them safe and happy.

He is currently curled up on the bed next to Lando. Oscar is sitting on one of the plush lounge chairs, and the female is curled up on a bar stool, not looking at anyone. She looked like she might cry. When Charles called Max to explain what had happened, he was not happy and started ranting over the speaker. Now she is sat there, blaming herself for messing things up.

"Carlos is coming over tonight, so we can explain this to him, yes?" Max asks the room. They all nod to confirm it. "I don't understand how this happened. We have no idea how Carlos is going to respond."

"He seemed fine when we left-"

"-But that doesn't guarantee he won't tell anybody." Max cut off Lando, and the Brit shrinks into Charles with a look of defeat.

Max then turns his attention to the female. The emotionally unstable girl who hadn't even been living in a proper home for that long. Who had immediately concluded she had ruined their lives once again (not that she ever did, this was her conclusion that Charles can't see how she came to).

"I would've expected you to at least have seen something by now. I thought your visions were to prevent these incidents, but they always seem to happen regardless." Max's volume rises as he speaks. His hand movements get more aggressive, and he can see the female getting more glassy eyed by the second. "It's so hard to keep you safe when you let things like this happen!"

Oh, Charles is going to kill him. But he'll have to do it later because before anyone can stop her, she is running out of the room. Only stopping to grab her shoes.

"Max Emilian Verstappen, I have half a mind to drag by the neck to Sebastian to explain this one to him." Seethes the Monegasque.

It's not often that they argue. Having more of them in a relationship means more arguments, but it also means more mediators. People who are neutral to help them resolve the issue.

Max already looks like he knows he messed up. "I didn't... I- I didn't mean it like that." He stutters out. Tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

Charles sighs in frustration. "Maybe we know that, but she takes things litterally." He goes through possible options. "I think we should give it an hour before we try to find her. Let her have some space first."

"Not sure how we're going to find her." Oscar points to where her phone lay. "Can't see her location if her phone isn't with her."

~~~~~

She's not sure where she's going. Just walking to clear her head. Figure things out. Understand why she can't just do things right.

Maybe Max is right. Maybe this really is all her fault. She let this all happen. She could've stopped it if she had more control over these stupid abilities.

She knows her mind is going to a dark place. It's a place she hadn't been for so long. But the voices that aren't hers are pulling her under water. She can't breathe knowing she messed up yet again. How many failures are needed to prove she's not meant to continue this life.

Her father had said the same thing Max had. Over and over, every day, the reason why he took everything from her. Because she had let her mother die and still doesn't have the strength to bring her back.

Why should she live? Her mother hadn't deserved her fate. Neither had any of her bloodline who came before her. Why should she be allowed to live freely when none of them had?

She must have blacked out while walking. Somehow, finding herself tucked away in a back alley, a bottle of alcohol in hand.

She didn't even know she had money. Furthermore, she doesn't even like alcohol normally. She supposes this isn't a normal occasion and instead takes a swig from the bottle. The burn in her throat distracts the thoughts in her brain.

She hears her name being called, but she's too apathetic to care. Yet as they continue to grow closer, she lets out a groan and shifts her weight upwards and against the wall. Her legs feel like they might give out from the weight. She falls, expecting to hit the concrete face first. Instead, she lands against another person.

"I've got you." Comes a familiar Australian accent. Oscar lowers her back onto the ground and assesses her for any injuries. "You forgot to take your phone with you. We've been searching for you for hours."

"Well, I guess Max can lecture me about it then. I'll add it to the compiling list of things I've done wrong."

Oscar isn't normally the most assertive person. He can be when he needs to, but he can also easily follow the flow of other people. This is one of those times where he needs to be. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were startled. You went defensive. Max knows what he said was wrong, and he didn't intend for it to come out that way." Her body is pulled into his. She hadn't realized how it had gotten late and that she is cold now. His body heat is comforting. "Come back with me and let Max apologize. Everyone is worried that you'd been taken again, and Carlos is at the room as well."

She can hear the waiver of anxiety in his voice. He hates not knowing where she is. It leaves too many possibilities for her to get hurt, or worse, taken away from him again.

Oscar helps her walk back to the hotel. The bottle of alcohol left behind in the alley for someone else to take advantage of. It's a long, wobbly walk where she feels anxiety building with every step. Even when they get to the door, she has half a mind to turn and run. Though she doubts she'd get very far.

Lando is the one to open the door. He looks as if he'd been crying. If he was, he didn't say anything.

He helps Oscar get her to the larger then neccecary bathroom. Then she beelines straight for the empty bath. Her safe place.

"Max wants to apologize. Can I let him in?"

"Yeah, but can you stay, please?" She's not sure she can express things properly right now and may need Oscar's calm to help the two very emotional people through.

"Wouldn't think of leaving."

He opens the door and summons Max over. It's an awkward few moments as the two get comfortable. She fiddles with her hands while they do so.

Max sighs. His eyes are red and tired. His face settled in his constantly moving hands. "I'm so sorry for what I said. I wasn't thinking properly and I was scared. Which is not an excuse I know-"

"I forgive you. It's not like I handled it well, either."

"I just want you to be safe. You've been through so much already that I just want to see you not worry yourself sick." They look at each other now. Really take in the hurt and worry that paint the feature of the other.

Oscar decides to give them a few moments alone before joining the others. Lando had once compared their post argument affection to remind them they are okay to aftercare. She deems them very different. In this case, both her and Max were high on emotions, so they did and said things that weren't right. But they'd all come to an agreement that when there are apologies made and forgiveness granted that they don't hold onto it. At the end of the day, they are human, and humans do stupid things. This is a promise that they are going to be fine.

~~~~~

Oscar isn't sure what he's expecting to happen when the two step out of the room, but it certainly wasn't Carlos being star struck.

"I have so many questions."

"You always have questions."

"I think he always has opinions, actually."

Oscar rolls his eyes. Carlos could ask all he wanted, but he probably would get the answers he's looking for. There is some part of him that knows Carlos commands and controls his environment. Yet the other side of him sees what Charles sees: a funny and playful Spaniard. Plus, the Aussie is new to all of this, and if anything, he can't help but feel mildly anxious.

"Have you always had your powers?" Carlos looks at the female with curiosity in his eyes.

"Yes, I was born with them." His eyes flicker to Max as the Dutch places his hand on her lower back. She seems to flinch at the question itself. As if having to recall the answer also brought with it memories.

Carlos keeps asking more specific questions, prying further into the females past. She does her best to answer as many as possible, but she's gradually steeping into a more anxious state.

"I think that's enough for tonight." Max pulls the girl into him, and her demeanor shifts again. Relaxed from feeling safe in his arms. “Jack, can you take her to the other room?”

Oscar simply nods and gently leads the female to the connected room. Two rooms since apparently it’s difficult for them to all sleep comfortably in the same bed that isn’t built for five. There have been many angry physios because they were falling off the bed or settling for the floor. So, they had to change tactics.

When he closes the door behind him, the two throw themselves into bed. “Does Max not want us in there for a reason?”

“Do you want to be in there still? Because I’m happy to sleep.”

He will not get to sleep yet, however, because there is a knock on the door. Oscar groans in exhaustion and annoyance. How had they managed to know what room they were in? Doesn’t anyone sleep these days?!

Oscar takes his sweet time getting up and meandering to the door. He swings it open with more attitude than neccacary, but to his shock, there is nobody on the other side.

A small box sits outside the door. For everything that has happened, a box is probably the least of their worries. Oscar, however, still gets a chill up his spine when he bring it inside the space.

"A package? Did you see from who?"

"A ghost? An invisible man?"

"No need to be rude..."

Oscar sighs and starts ripping open the small cardboard box. "Sorry. I'm just tired -" he catches a glimpse of the contents. "A whole box for a single note!"

The girl looks at his with curiosity. If she weren't so damn cute, he would close the box and think about it later. Instead, he unfolds the paper. "It's a letter... from your father."

~

Lando watches the older boys intently. Carlos and Max have been going back and forth for awhile now.

“Have you considered that maybe this is a condition?”

“Have you considered that her father is a psycho?”

Carlos had been trying to figure out the reasons behind everything. There is one, technically speaking, but it isn’t their place to share that information.

“I know you want to protect her Max, but maybe you should consider visiting the the guy and asking him about it.” Carlos gets up off the bed and stands in front of Max. His stance is loose and relaxed. “She looks like she’s in pain and ready to break at any second.” He claps Max on the shoulder before heading out of the room.

Lando looks at the older two. “Well that was eventful.”

Max flops down in between himself and Charles. The groan he lets out is muffled by the pillows. “I don’t like his tone.”

“His tone? Or the fact maybe he was into something?” Charles quirks his eyebrows.

“Both.”

The three of them pull back the covers after getting ready for bed. Lando having checked that Oscar and their superhero of a girlfriend are at least in bed.

“On the bright side, we can’t even think about that until after this weekend. We’ve got driving to do still.”

~

Names with lines through them were unable to be tagged.

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @chanshintien @vellicora @hollie911 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @be-your-coffee-pot @copper-boom @allmyfanfavorites @sadg3

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 1

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Tinder is not a great place to look for boyfriends, but neither is the workplace.

Gavi x Physiotherapist! reader. Slow burn. I can't make things fast he's gotta work for it. Smut? Not in this part but maybe eventually.

A/N: Hi everyone! Not super new on Tumblr but I have never been brave enough to post a fic despite my constant maladaptive daydreaming about imaginary scenarios. The stress of being sick and not wanting to write my personal statement have lead me to actually write this and post it online. Please be nice, hope you enjoy!

Song inspo: Just Pretend - Bad omens

Writing inspo: Plot inspired by @zeegaazeegaah and their amazing Gavi x physiotherapist imagine. Other inspirational accounts will be tagged at the end.

TW: None

Word count: 4.8K

"So what do you do?"

y/n hated this question. Even being asked for nudes might be preferable to being asked about her job. y/n had been on 12 first dates since moving back to Barcelona, and without fail every one of them had been ruined by this simple question. She considered lying - she could pass as a student or a waitress or even a model (ok maybe not a model): there were literally thousands of jobs she could pretend to have. But, being the idiot hopeless romantic that she was, she decided to be honest with the man across from her. What if Thiago from Tinder was her soulmate? She didn't want to ruin it by lying.

"I'm finishing my sports medicine and physiotherapy certification, so I am working with one of the football clubs here to do practical training and gain experience."

"Oh that's cool! Which club? You can tell me, I know most of the 3rd and 4th tier Catalan clubs, so I'll probably know it even if it's really small."

Wow. Thiago from Tinder was an overachiever: he messed up before she even said which club she worked for, which was faster than every other man she had been out with in the last four months. y/n took a deep breath and resisted the urge to leave before confessing where she worked.

"I actually work at a pretty well known club... F.C Barca. I think you might of heard of it?" y/n watched this man's jaw visibly drop. His eyes got wide and lit up, like someone had told him he had just won a brand new car.

"You're a physio at Barca?? No way! That's my team! I think I would actually commit manslaughter if Pedri asked me to. So you get to see all the players every day? And Xavi! Have you ever spoken to Xavi? Do you know he won Spain their first world cup? You might be too young to remember. That's so amazing!"

y/n felt all the muscles in her head tense as she focused all her energy on not rolling her eyes. A fanboy. Typical. This was the most common response she got when she said her place of work out loud. 6 of the last 12 first dates had been major fanboys for the club, talking endlessly about how they would steal and kill and get on their knees for Barca. One had even been so bold as to ask if she had ever seen Lewandosky naked, to confirm if some measurements he had seen online were true. While the fans were annoying, the haters were even worse. 4 different dates had said they felt bad that she worked at a "dying club", throwing up football statistics, and going red in the face when she said she could not possibly care less about who had more Champion's League wins.

Then there were those that went out of their way to offend her. You would think that a man trying to get laid would have some more common sense. But that didn't stop one of her tinder matches from calling her a liar in the middle of a restaurant. He was still on his first glass of wine, leaning back cockily in his chair when he said that La Liga would never allow female physios to work with the first team because women couldn't "handle the intensity of football injuries." She should have gotten up and left when he said that, but he was 6'3 with a brand new Porsche, so she let him buy her dinner and drive her home before telling him that she genuinely hoped he never interacted with a female doctor ever again, even if it was to save his life.

The worst had been when she went out with Jose. He had invited her to a pretty expensive spot in central Barcelona. They were having an amazing conversation until the fated job question. She had downed a good amount of wine at that point, and wasn't as cynical about the reaction as she usually would be, so she spoke about her role with pride. Big mistake. He perked up, then threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so loudly it startled the waiter clearing plates from the nearby table. "21 years old and working as a physio for F.C Barca... Who did you have to sleep with to get that job, hm? Xavi? La Porte himself? Or maybe someone at the university? Regardless, you must fuck like a pornstar to have landed a job like that. Can't wait to try it first hand." y/n said some choice words about Jose and his micropenis, and promptly left, seeking to avoid assault charges that night.

The truth was that y/n was extremely talented at what she did. She grew up watching football with her father and brother, developing an interest in working in sports professionally. She worked herself half to death during high school to be accepted into a sports science program in the U.S. She interned with the college teams there, learning about sports injuries and treating them. She finished her program in three years, and despite programs across Europe fighting for her, she came back to Barcelona to finish her physiotherapy certification. She would be lying if she said it was just for her family and friends. The program in Barcelona advertised opportunities to work with F.C. Barca, her favorite football club since birth. It was a love she inherited from her father, as shown by all her childhood pictures in the Blaugrana uniform.

The program was harder than expected. She was one of 7 female first year students, and the only girl in her year that wanted to work with the first team. y/n was made aware that this might work to her advantage now that professional football was pushing for more female representation (in referees, coaching staff, and now on the medical team). The guys in her class either hated her guts or wanted to sleep with her (sometimes both) - it really was like legally blonde without the law.

In the middle of August, close to the beginning of the new season, all the applicants for the Barca placement were called into the university on a Sunday. Their professor introduced Dr. Gonzales, the head physiotherapist for the club. y/n started to sweat despite the air conditioning hitting her directly. She was terrified to even breathe wrong in the presence of this man.

"It's a pleasure to be here with you all today. Thank you for your hard work in submitting to fill the assistant physiotherapist position at F.C. Barcelona. Now, there have been rumors that we are hiring a student to fil this position because it is cheaper and we are broke, but I would like to assure you all now that it's not true."

The two boys in front of her snickered quietly, one whispering a "yeah right" to the other. Dr. Gonzalez looked up at the boys. "You two giggling in the back. You don't seem like the type we need at Camp Nou. You can leave now." Everyone in the room sat up straighter after that. Everyone was on military behavior, not wanting a wrong look or a chair squeak to blow their chance. "As many of you know, one of our strikers, Ousmane Dembélé, presents with consistent right hamstring tightness, leading to frequent injuries."

As Dr. Gonzalez turned to face the screen, y/n found enough bravery to pull out a pen and paper to take notes. The doctor continued to describe the player's condition, his playing style, and the current course of treatment being used. After speaking for 25 minutes (while facing the screen instead of the students), he turned around and addressed them. "Your project is to develop a continuous muscular therapy treatment for Dembélé in the next two days. The best and most cost effective method gets the job placement. You at the back," he pointed at y/n, "Smart choice to take notes. I advise you not to share."

Y/n drove home that evening checking her rear-view mirror every few seconds. The possibility of being followed by one of her classmates so they could steal her notes was low, but never zero, and so she did both of the locks tightly on the door. She sat at her computer and got to work right away. Truth be told, she felt like the whole assignment was kind of a trick. Dr. Gonzalez had told them the current treatment plan for Dembélé, which had obviously been working seeing as they kept using it. She made a few adjustments based on leg dominance and the anticipated excess strain of playing more minutes each game, and then she decided to facetime her friend Angelika while she made the PowerPoint look pretty.

"Good evening Dr. y/l/n, finally ready to ask for my hand in marriage? My parents always wanted me to marry into medicine." y/n rolled her eyes and smirked. She had met Angelika when she was living in the US through a Facebook group for Spanish students studying abroad. Ever since then, not a day had gone by where they hadn't spoken (except once when Angelika had dropped her phone into a pint of beer and couldn't get it fixed for three days).

"You know I'm ready when you are gorgeous, just send your ring size. What're you up to?"

"Nothing much, just scrolling on the internet trying to find clubs that are no cover for ladies tomorrow. You're still coming out with us right?" y/n looked away from her computer and looked at Angelika with the "I'm about to bail on plans look" that was all too familiar. "Y/n!! You cannot be cancelling plans with us again! You haven't been anywhere except your house and the university in like six weeks! People will start to think you're with child and in hiding."

"I didn't know I was the new virgin Mary." y/n quipped, trying to make her presentation equally professional and cute. "You're not, because that would require you being a virgin. I know it feels like it's growing back because you haven't looked in the direction of a man in centuries." y/n could only shake her head. It was not a lack of trying. "Well, I'm presenting to the Barca head physio Wednesday morning, so if you ever want a chance at seeing the inside of that locker room, you need to let me skip out on tomorrow."

Angelika sighed and threw herself on the bed dramatically. "Fine, but you need to be our DD and come pick us up after. Shockingly, it's really hard to order an Uber while drunk." y/n agreed to pick the girls up from the club at the end of the night, an spent the rest of the evening chatting idlily with her friend, living vicariously through the stories she told.

The following day, y/n spent all morning refining her presentation. She spent over an hour watching videos about the Barca training facility to see if there was any equipment she had overlooked in creating her treatment plan. The day progressed as normal - cleaning, cooking, practicing her presentation, watching TV on the couch. As 1am rolled around, she still hadn't received any communication from Angelika. While she was not an inconsiderate person, Angelika did have her moments where she would completely forget about the world around her: that was when she met a man who showed interest in her. Despite being gorgeous and intelligent, Angelika, like most girls in their early twenties, suffered from a condition known as "Nothing is true about me unless an attractive man says it". y/n also suffered (mildly) from this affliction, but being surrounded by weirdos all day in university had helped substantially. She knew that if she did not leave then, she would never get any sleep, and so she grabbed her car keys and headed to the address of the club that she had been sent earlier on.

She parked several blocks away from the club, and called Angelika for a record 41st time. y/n knew she wasn't going to receive an answer, so she changed into a tight satin top and a pair of heels that she always left in her car in case of emergencies (What if Joao Felix decided to take a random trip to Barcelona and she was unprepared?). She could feel the street practically vibrating beneath her as she walked towards the club. She was let in easily - it was a Tuesday night and the establishment needed female patrons. She kept close to the bar, and asked the girls working there if they had seen her friend. Once y/n pulled up a picture of Angelika, the girls laughed to one another.

"Oh yeah, she's up in the VIP section. They've dropped like 6k on bottle service already."

y/n felt the vein in her forehead start to pop out. Of course Angelika had found herself a man that would take her to the part of the club that was the hardest to get into. Especially on the night when y/n really needed to get home. Because why wouldn't that happen? She made her way over to the VIP section, where she was promptly stopped by two large bouncers, who obviously didn't believe that she just wanted to grab her friend. While standing there deciding whether she should just make Angelika order an Uber (or have this new lover order one for her), she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and was met by a very attractive man (boy? His age was hard to determine in the dark).

"Hey, do you need to get into VIP? Are you here alone? " "That's a really creepy question to ask a girl in a club." y/n yelled back over the thumping music. What were all these people doing out on a Tuesday? "No not like that. I can help you get in if you want." "I don't really want to get in, I just want to get my friend and leave." The man (boy?)'s eyes lit up. "Perfect! My tea- friend. My friend that I'm with is pretty drunk and the person that drove us is in VIP. I can't leave him by himself because he's kind of rowdy even when sober. Could you watch him while I go grab them?"

y/n didn't want to look too deeply into a good thing, but the offer felt suspicious. She scanned the boy (she had decided that he was young), looking for any indication that he could live up to his end of the bargain. She looked down at his feet, noticing the white Alexander McQueen sneakers. She decided that she could trust him, and if not, she was still in a public place, and someone would notice if she was being dragged out of a club kicking and screaming. She walked over to where the friend was and had to stifle a laugh. Another boy was sprawled across two high bar chairs, legs up and head rolled back. He was wearing a pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses despite it being the middle of the night and them being indoors. His white button up had the first two undone and the collar popped, like he was Pitbull in 2011. He was in a pair skinny jeans (because, as y/n discovered quickly, everyone in the world had moved on from skinny jeans except for Spanish men) and some white Dolce and Gabanna sneakers. Where were these kids getting all this money?

"Pablo! Look who I brought you! This is..." The first boy looked back at you expectantly. "y/n". "y/n! She's really great and going to take care of you while I go get Pepi so we can go home." The drunk one (now Identified as Pablo) lifted his head, and tilted the sunglasses just enough to get a good look at the girl. "Wow Angel, nice job." The first one (Angel apparently) apologized to y/n, explaining that Pablo was a "really flirty drunk" but that he was never like this sober. y/n showed Angel a picture of Angelika, and off he went back into the beast that was the club. y/n stood awkwardly by Pablo, who appeared to have fallen asleep. Suddenly, he sprung up and asked her, "so what is a pretty girl like you doing in the club by herself?"

"I'm not here to go clubbing, just picking up a friend." "You're dressed like you're going clubbing." "Right, because they wouldn't let me into the club in my scrubs." "Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." The music was starting to take a toll on y/n, the thumping rhythm giving her a splitting headache. "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises." Pablo did not take this comment well. He stood up, feeling all the blood rush to his head as he rested his weight against the bar. He pushed his glasses up his head, and looked straight at her.

This was the first opportunity y/n had to admire how gorgeous Pablo was. The glasses pushed his hair back on his head, showing off his striking eyebrows and cheekbones. His eyes were wide and glassy, making him look like a teenager who had gotten drunk for the first time. For all y/n knew, that could be the case. His nose slopped downward, a subtle bump in the bridge like it had been broken before and reset. His discontent made his bottom lip poke out, and y/n suddenly was overwhelmed by the urge to treat him like a child: make him feel better with a kiss. "I'm 18, and this isn't even my first time in a club. You want to see my ID?" Pablo had gotten much closer to her than she had expected. In her 4 inch heels, y/n was looking him straight in the eyes. He was mere inches away from her face, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the anger of being called a child. She couldn't stop her gaze from flipping between his eyes to his pouting lips. 'This is normal,' she thought to herself. 'I'm overwhelmed because no man has been this close to me in a while. Even if my scumbag cheating ex was standing this close I would want to kiss him. I am simply in desperate need of affection.'

This internal monologue ended just as another club patron bumped into Pablo, causing him to lose balance. He put his arms around y/n and rested weight against her, head pressed into her shoulder. "I feel like dying. I shouldn't have drank that much." He muttered. She just held him there, scared that he would hit the floor if she shifted. "Then why did you keep drinking?" She asked. It couldn't hurt - in the state he was in, she would be surprised if he even remembered his name in the morning. "So my brain would be a little quieter." y/n's heart ached at the statement. However old the boy in her arms was, he was being burdened by something far beyond his age.

Before she could ask anything else, she was tapped on the shoulder by Angel, who signaled for her to follow out of the club. She put one of Pablo's arms around her neck and began shuffling through the crowd. Once they left the club, Pablo quickly separated from her to throw up on the side of the street. "At least he waited until he was off of you to do that," a male voice echoed from behind her. y/n turned around to see Angelika clinging to a tall brunet. "Thank you so much for carrying her out. I think I can take it from here." y/n said, trying to get Angelika to remove herself from the nice man. "It's ok, I can walk her to your car. It might be easier than you carrying her." y/n smiled apologetically, and turned around to the sound of Pablo continuing to wretch his guts out. She ran over to make sure he wasn't puking blood and didn't need medical attention. "Come on Pablo let's go." Angel said from the curb. "No no, don't rush him. Let him get it all out before he gets into my car. Otherwise he'll have to start taking the city bus to matches." y/n looked up at the new voice. He walked up and stood by Angel, glancing at his phone before looking up at his friend and the girl making sure he didn't die. "Thanks for looking after him. I hope he wasn't too bad, he's a tag aggressive." y/n stood there speechless. The man thanking her for taking care of his drunk friend was none other than Pedri Gonzalez, one of the young stars of F.C. Barca. He was an absolute magician with the ball, and quickly becoming a favorite in y/n's household. She wanted to let out a scream: jump up and down and tell him that she was a huge fan and ask for a picture. But she had her presentation tomorrow. The last thing she needed was to make a bad impression on the player by causing a scene. So she took a deep breath and insisted that it was no problem.

Pablo had finished puking out his guts by that point and stood up straight, gripping his head from the dizziness. "Alright hermano, time to go." Pedri said, turning his back to y/n, Angelika, and the main carrying her. "Wait." Pablo said rummaging through his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, and clumsily pulled a card from it. He turned to y/n and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close to him. There were shouts from his friends to stop whatever he was doing, but nothing was registering in his liquor-filled brain. "y/n think's I'm a little kid, so I just wanted to show her my ID." y/n shifted her gaze from his deep eyes to the card in his hand. She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink." Pablo said, pushing a strand of hair from y/n's face before walking (wobbling) back to his friends.

y/n could not process everything going on in her head at that moment. She turned around and faced the man holding a half-asleep Angelika. "You don't play for Barca do you?" She asked, half joking and half fearful. "No. I play for Real Sociedad. I'm Martin." "Zubimendi??" "Yeah." This was too much. y/n, 7 hours before the most important presentation of her life, was surrounded by so much football royalty it made her dizzy. Martin looked like he was going to say something else, but y/n put her finger to her lips and shushed him. "Please, not another word. Just bring her to the car."

They walked silently to y/n's tiny car, Martin helping to carefully place Angelika in the back seat. "So are you the guy she was with while ignoring my calls?" "Oh no, that was my teammate Ander. He was also kind of out of it so I offered to help her out." "Why is everyone getting drunk out of their minds on a random Tuesday in August?" y/n said in frustration, causing a laugh to erupt from Martin. "It's the last week before training for the new season starts. Not a lot of opportunities to black out after this. People like to take advantage." y/n thanked Martin and got into the driver's seat. He stopped her before she drove off. "Do you think I could maybe get your number? Just to make sure you get home safe?" y/n rolled her eyes at the lame excuse for a pick-up tactic, but surrendered her phone number anyway. She drove back to her apartment with her head reeling, as she tried to rehearse her speech in her head instead of thinking of the events of the night.

The next day, y/n looked perfect. She had work her best school-approved scrubs and coat. and slicked her hair back to make her look more professional. She was in her business attire Nikes. Her note cards were neatly written and organized. She sat in the lecture hall waiting to be called on. The students would be presenting in random order. As all the student filled in to present, the tension was palpable. Everyone side-eyed each other, trying to intimidate the "competition". The door swung open and in walked the professor, as well as Dr. Gonzalez. He stood at the front podium, stern as ever, and began to speak.

"Good morning students. Thank you all for the effort you have put into the presentations you will share today. We look forward to all you assessments and insights. As the new season quickly approaches, we want the new assistant to become acclimated to the workplace quickly. Therefore, the decision about the position will be made today following the presentation." The entire room stopped breathing. "In order to do so efficiently, please welcome our other guests and evaluators, Mr. Xavi Hernandez and Mr. Ousmane Dembélé." The pair walked in, and the room engaged in the most "I wish I was dead" sounding clapping known to man. y/n started sweating profusely. If she had known that Xavi and Dembélé were going to be watching her presentation, she would have made Angelika take the Uber. Hell, she would have made her ride a Donkey back home and gotten a full night's sleep.

Dr. Gonzalez drew names for the order, and because y/n has the worst luck, she was presenting last. She did what she does best: panicked immediately. She tried to think of ways to present the information differently than the 6 students before her had. As she listened to the presentations, the more nervous she got. None of the other students had treatment plans remotely similar to hers. Antonio, one of the smartest in their batch and the presenter right before her, even suggested he get surgery.

It was time. y/n stood up at the front of the room and pulled out her slides. "Good morning everyone. Today I will be presenting my comprehensive treatment plan for player Ousmane Dembélé's right hamstring." She got through the whole thing without stuttering or having her knees give out. As she finished her last slide, she let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over. She asked if their were questions and Xavi's hand went up. "So Miss y/n, the treatment plan presented is very similar to the one we have currently implemented, with a couple changes in training and every day life. What is the anticipated recovery time for this treatment?" Everyone else in the class had said 8-12 months. But no - of course y/n had to be differently. "6 weeks sir." "6 weeks? No one else has given a suggestion that would take less than half a year." "Yes sir, however, if you take into account the availability of daily therapy, cryotherapy, and the current play style and strain distribution, he can be on the field in 6 weeks. He might not be comfortable playing all 90 minutes each game, but that's not the same as being completely out for injury." Xavi nodded and said nothing more. That was the end of the questioning.

It took them 8 minutes exactly to decide who go the job. Dr. Gonzalez, Xavi, and Dembélé came back into the room, thanking everyone again for their hard work. "We are please to announce," Xavi started, "that we will be offering the assistant physiotherapist position for the 2022/2023 season to," he turned to Dembélé, who finished the thought, "Miss y/n y/l/n." All the men in the room turned to face y/n at once as she struggled to breathe from the shock. "We look forward to having you this season."

And that's how it happened. y/n was now the assistant physiotherapist for the first team at F.C. Barcelona during the day, and entertainment for the absolute worst men in Spain in the evenings. She left her disappointing first date with a headache and leftovers, and drove home listening to her "Maybe Love is a Social Construct" playlist. As she walked into her apartment, her phone chimed with a text notification. She let her hair down and grabbed her phone, preparing to update Angelika about the latest in the tragedy that was her love life. Instead, she had two separate text notifications.

[Unknown number]: Hey, is this still y/n's number?

[Gavi]: I need to see you urgently. Tomorrow morning 6:30 am. I'll be waiting outside your office.

To be continued...

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

If you got this far, thanks for reading! I have had this idea for a long time and have been writing snippets of it down. I will continue to update whenever I can, as this really is a passion project for me (so it's ok if no one reads it).

GIF credit to @gavidaily

Huge thanks to the following for heavily inspiring me to start writing this on the internet: @missgavi @kyiiansmbappe @julianalvarez9 @milawritesstuff @leeamorgan (there are a couple others I'm forgetting)

[timidpumpkin]

Hey! I love the dark stucky n all but i honestly hate pink so that gave me an idea: reader being reserved and extra obedient and always freaking out if they mess up (and never going anywhere near the front door) and when stucky asks they say they dont want a pink room while crying

Awhhh but I loooove reader being sooo reserved and extra obedient cause she’s scared 🥺🥺🥺. And I think stucky would be super understanding and considerate if you didn't like pink at all.

So here's a little au about that hehe 🙈🙈🫶🫶

I’m just imagining reader accidentally dropping her sippy cup, making it spill everywhere🥺🥺…

((18+ minors DNI))

Of course, you start to panic, seeing the liquid spread all over the clean floor. You start apologizing profusely when they come to check on you after hearing a noise. 

“I-I’m sorries” you cry over and over again, beginning to shake, knowing you’ve done something bad–made a mess. 

“Awh no, Angel, hey-” Steve picks you up, noticing you’re standing where the liquid meets your covered toes. “It’s okay baby, don’t cry. It was just an accident.” He sets you on the counter as Bucky cleans your mess. You keep apologizing and crying. Steve and Bucky both reassure ‘it’s fine angel’, ‘don’t worry about it doll’.

After it’s all cleaned up, Steve hands you a new filled-up sippy while Bucky changes your damp socks, knowing they must not feel comfortable or help your distressed mood.

“How about we get you ready for bed early, huh doll?” he asks.

A simple question. But one that makes your already anxious mind mold into guilt. You didn't want to go to bed--Well, that wasn’t exactly true--You didn’t want to go to your room. Your pink room. It was perfect, in every way–except the color. It made you feel so bad. You knew how much they wanted you to love it. You didn’t want them to think you were bad.

“I’ll even read you two bedtime stories,” Bucky interrupts your thoughts, trying to cheer you up. He picks you up and sets you back down on the clean floor. It only makes you feel worse. You’d love it if he read you a million bedtime stories, but it just felt so hard going in your room. It just didn’t feel like yours.

You don’t answer him. Instead, you just stand there, looking almost petrified. 

“Doll? Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks as you make no indication of wanting to go to your room. Steve bends down, leveling himself closer to you.

“Sweet girl, can you tell dada what’s wrong? You know we're not upset about the sippy, what’s bothering you babygirl?” Steve asks gently. Still, you only cry harder, not wanting to say what you mean. How could you tell them something like that? Wouldn't they just think you’re a bad girl who doesn't want to listen to daddies and go to your room?

“Jus-jus’ don’t wan’ daddies to be mads at me” you sob sorrowfully into your own hands.

“Oh no, angel...we won’t be mad, as long as you're honest about what’s going on in that little head of yours,” he teasingly pets your head. “we could never be mad at you like that.” He encourages you to speak up, taking your little hands into his softly. 

“It-it’s jus-” you try making the words come out, but only more tears fall instead. Steve tugs you closer, hugging you as you weep into his shoulder. Eventually, there’s only one word you’re able to mumble out. Color.

“Color?” He questions gently, trying to confirm what you said, and pulling apart to look at you. You nod your head shamefully, unwilling to look up from the floor. 

“What color baby?”

“Room.” you say quietly. 

“The color of your room? Pink?” He questions. You nod your head, and it takes him a moment before he realizes what you’re trying to communicate. “You don’t like the pink babygirl?” He asks carefully.

You nod your head in confirmation but the admission only makes you feel worse, causing you to cry harder again. 

“I’m sorry,” you say woefully in between sobs. 

“Oh angel, no, no. You don’t need to be sorry about that,” You look up to meet his gaze as he wipes the tears from your wet face.

“Really?” You ask sensitively. 

“Of course not.” Bucky chimes in, reaching down to pick you up. He bounces you up as he places you around his hip. “Why didn’t you just tell us sooner, doll?” you shrug your shoulders, and mumble an ‘I dunno.’

“I’m so sorry we didn’t know before babygirl. That’s daddies job, we should have known. We’re the sorry one's little princess.” Steve reassures, caressing your cheek while still in Bucky’s arms.

You look back to Bucky, wanting to gauge if he was upset. However, he doesn’t look displeased as only concern laces his features as he looks at you. 

“You know, doll, I'm somewhat of a painter myself,” he says lightheartedly, causing a skeptical eyebrow raise from Steve. 

“Oh yeah, that so?” Steve jeers.

“Absolutely,” he defends. “After all, who do you think painted your room and did all that hard work in the first place?” he gestures his head towards Steve “not that guy” he teases, making you giggle, bringing a small smile to your face.

“You-you’re not upset I don’t like it?” you ask, still feeling bad since he did it all for you.

“Of course not Doll. What kind of Daddy would I be if I didn’t know your favorite color?” he explains, “now tell us, what colors do you want instead?” you ponder for a moment, thinking.

“Any color you want, angel. Nothing’s too much for our little girl.” Steve smiles at you.

[mixterglacia]

CONTENT WARNING: Vivziepop Critical/ Stolitz Critical below the cut.

This episode made me incredibly angry, so it's not going to be as well structured as I try to manage.

TL;DR The pacing and tone was a horrible mess, and this should have been split into at least two episodes to pull this off.

To start, we prove in the first five minutes how little these two actually know each other. They're surprised by very simple things and I don't like that. It tells me that neither of them, but especially Stolas, EVER asked about the other's interests. Cool, that's good to know I was right about that the whole time.

Blitz is WILDLY out of character in the bulk of this episode. I LOATHE how he's waiting on Stolas hand and foot. If we're being honest, he'd probably just say "figure it out yourself" and focus on his life, business, and daughter. Why are we always having to baby Stolas' feelings? It feels like he's the only one allowed to actually be doted on. (In a non-humorous way.)

And now he remembers Via? Sure, just run off without thinking about your family. You have never let that stop you before. And now Stella is being cartoonishly evil in front of her daughter? We've never had it proven that she's a bad mother. In fact, from what Via states later, that's the case! I really think they have no idea on how to be subtle with her.

In a similar vein to the moment with Blitz watching the family later. You didn't need to tell us who he was imagining in that window. The moment worked without you punching it down our throats.

Likewise with Millie's pregnancy. I wish they'd left that as an open thread, rather than taking time to fully confirm it. Like maybe all the way up to the point where she went into the bathroom and left looking a little fucked up? That way it can be an engaging thing to return to in S3.

The non-drama parts of the episode (especially the first five minutes) dragged HARD. They gutted any emotional moments and just felt like padding for the runtime.

I am so annoyed at the way this show is trying to lessen what Stolas did.

HE CHEATED ON HIS WIFE. HE DESTROYED HIS FAMILY. HE ABANDONED HIS DAUGHTER. HE IS A TERRIBLE MAN WHO GETS EVERYTHING HE WANTS BECAUSE THE SHOW BABIES HIM.

This is not some cute little quirk. His wife was never implied to cheat on him first. She was a bitch, but she didn't do anything to deserve this. I can't stress enough that if you showed her playing around too, it would immediately solve most of the hypocrisy with this.

Trying to weasel around that by Blitz trying to say cheating really so bad is fucking gross. It's not like they had an open relationship and Stella got jealous. Stolas is a slimeball. He doesn't deserve Blitz. He doesn't deserve Via.

He hasn't earned any of this.

While it came out of nowhere, the Via song is STELLAR. As a product of divorce, she owes her father nothing. She deserves to feel so hurt and betrayed.

"My tears won't fall upon your shoulder...I'll just get older and you'll only know my name." Hit me like a truck.

So imagine my outrage when we aren't allowed to sit and think about her feelings for more than a few seconds after the song. We aren't allowed to focus on her pain. If they staged a sequence between the number and her finding her dad's pills, I think it would work better.

Or even uploading the song by itself. But no. You have to CONSTANTLY remind us to feel bad for the stupid fucking owl. Feel bad because he's depressed. Feel bad because he's trapped in the same loveless marriage as his wife. But don't feel bad for her because she's a bitch.

Fuck. Off.

My dad was manic depressive, that doesn't mean he got to treat our family the way he did. Stolas didn't even think about her before throwing his life away over his booty call.

This show has so much potential that it just squanders. There are two different series being forced together and it doesn't work. You have the comedy series shoved into the same sweater as the soap opera. They aren't mutually exclusive, but truly the team seems incapable of making this work.

I'm done.

This isn't even fun to critique anymore.

If folks want my opinions on future Helluva Boss content, you'll have to directly ask me to watch the piece in question. I'm still going to give S2 of Hotel a shot, but as far as this?

I'm throwing in the towel. Of the two, I was so excited for Helluva. I loved the characters, I loved the idea, and I truly loved the first couple episodes.

But that show doesn't exist anymore.

Once again, I'm going to take a moment to remind you all:

You are allowed to love this series. I am just a dude on the internet. I am not trying to change your mind. I am not trying to ruin your fun. If you love it, that's awesome. I am so happy you found something that sings to your soul.

Don't let me harsh your buzz. Okay?

[mamamittens]

So I actually had a funny little idea that I'm just going to ramble about a bit here, as per usual, about Nikia and the boys

So, soulmate au but there are different types of indicators (and soulmate types but that's not super relevant) depending on the person and how long they've gone without meeting their soulmate.

Like, the indicators get stronger the longer it takes after they reach of age. The confirmation I didn't think super hard about, but probably a bit of a light show or intense emotion.

So, Izou and Thatch had it pretty easy. Sharing pain is a bit of an issue as pirates but it really only took so long of Thatch accidentally stubbing his toe or Izou pricking his finger while repairing his kimono before they connected the dots. It also didn't get too bad, mostly a sharp pain and echo of the actual injury. They can sense when the other is bruised up even after properly meeting (shaking hands or, more likely, Thatch doing a casual bro side hug that gets a little less casual when the light show pops up).

The indicator, whatever it is, doesn't go away, but you can learn to control it after meeting your soul mate. So they can block the other from, say, feeling how hard Thatch hip checked the counter while making breakfast. Or Izou slamming his face into a wall after a late night patrol and little sleep.

So, imagine their surprise as they start to notice another indicator sometime later (still unsure if I want a ~15 year age gap lol). Izou with a small section of his wrist forming words, snippets of someone's thoughts with an increasing echo of emotions. And Thatch starts randomly tasting things. They both think it's the other but the misunderstanding only lasts so long before they realize what it means.

And it ends up getting pretty strong, seemingly unable to find their third. Izou covers his wrist out of privacy concerns and Thatch is constantly trying to decipher his soul mates' food tastes and maybe even region with little luck. Noting random shit like how they tend to eat sweets, especially after Thatch starts drinking beer, correctly guessing they don't like booze.

I was thinking it'd be funny if this was a "Marine Nikia" timeline mostly so there's a moment of utter confusion as Thatch randomly tastes his own cooking (the food he's just made that day in fact) despite not currently eating. So he tears through the ship looking for Izou so they can hunt through the ship for their apparently very close soul mate.

Maybe this time I'm nice and she's not in the medical wing for a dislocated wing. Maybe not.

But she's utterly confused when they do eventually bust in, eyes wide as she pauses mid bite.

"...can I help you?"

"It's you!"

"I am... Me? I? Yes?"

"Our--you--look!" Thatch is flustered, too elated to remember any charm or awareness as he reaches over and... Lights.

Shes shocked for a moment before glancing at her wrist and looking confused.

'can he ever learn to wait five seconds to explain?' with a strong, secondary pulse of tired amusement.

Definitely not the commander who's elated to be holding her hand. So she looks to Izou and he steps closer.

"Hello, I'm Izou. This is Thatch. We're soul mates. All of us." Izou reaches out but stops just shy of touching her free hand. After a moment she takes his hand and all three of them bask in it a moment.

"...ah beans. I can't be a marine with pirate soul mates. They're like, super weird about that." Nikia belatedly muses.

"Shame. Guess you've got to stick around then!" Thatch grins.

"Or just leave and never tell anyone about this." She responds dryly. "They're kinda shit but it's still a decent job, you know."

If this is a yandere version, they probably both look at each other and scoff.

"You think you can leave with your wing all messed up like that, dove? It'll take months to properly recover." Thatch notes, stroking her feathers tenderly. "Must hurt to walk around even. Good thing we can handle it, huh?"

"Yeah. Seems silly to take up a bed for this, though. We'll move you to ours--make sure you're taken care of. Oh, you must be uncomfortable right now. Better take your medication, sweetheart." Izou purrs, grabbing a bottle of pills.

"Uh.... There's. No need for that. Really. I'll be fine right here--" he's there in an instant. Thatch tenderly pressing her into the bed and helping Izou forcefeed her them. If they'd known ahead of time, they'd have prepared a syringe.

She's terrified but passes out quickly. Waking up in the promised bed that's massive and too big to leave on her own without flopping about, and Izou and Thatch laying on either side, mindful of her injured wing. But their hands are firm on her curves. And she's still fucked up from the medication so she ends up falling back asleep.

[teal-sword]

Can you please write for Yelan having had a fight with the reader? At the end of the day where the reader usually snuggles up to her when it's time for bed, the reader just sleeps on their side and faces away from her. How would Yelan handle it? 🐢

Gender neutral reader

Omg thank you so much for the request,also I love turtles 😊 I've been waiting for so long 😭 for the reader will be white bold and Yelan will be blue

Imagine

From the outside everything seems alright the sun was setting as children ran from the streets yelling goodbye to their friends running home for not wanting to be yelled at by their parents but, inside a specific house screams are heard when you look inside the broken window you see glass, potted plants lying on the floor broken or ripped apart the couple didn't hurt each other they never would hurt each other no matter what things just got heated and they took their anger on something.

"Will you please calm down, this has been going on since earlier." The often calm and smooth voice Yelan usually has been raised a little bit out of frustration from the ongoing fight a lot of people wouldn't notice but you did... "And what happened last time? You got hurt when was the last time we fought? JUST. ONE. WEEK. AGO. About the same problem too Yelan you always do this to me you never have told me what was going on with your life. You just pushed me a side again, again and again! " Her eyebrows furrow "Well what am I supposed to do?!? Huh tell you where I am? Let you get hurt because of me?! " "Yes! I'm your partner I'm supposed to help you with whatever I can?!? And you know I hate it especially when you barely tell me anything! Hell I don't even know where you work! You say the Ministry of Civil Affairs but I never see you there!? "

Fights like this always get heated between you two but this one especially was harsh on both of you, Yelan felt like you didn't trust her she knew you were just worried about her wellbeing but it felt like she was repeating the same fight over and over again and again but she knew this was her fault too she barely told you anything no matter the circumstance. Things weren't better with you too... You didn't know if she trusts you she barely talks about herself what if one-day because she didn't tell you what she was up to and got seriously hurt... Because you couldn't help reach her in time because you didn't know where she was? Thoughts like these constantly go through your mind and tonight she basically almost confirmed them "sigh* let's talk about this tomorrow. I'm tired." Your significant other walking out of the room filled with shards to your bedroom is probably going to bed.

You take a long inhale as you exhale over and over again cleaning up the mess as you were already in a bad mood and didn't want to wake up with a mess right inside your own home, 'Ouch! Oh. I cut myself. " Taking your cut hand and bandaging it walking to your bedroom 'Hopefully Yelan is sleeping, I don't really want to deal with her right now. " You thought to yourself reaching out to open the door taking a quick peek inside "she's asleep, good." You said to yourself quietly tiptoeing into the room trying not to wake her

What you didn't know was that she was hearing your soft breathing go from the doorway to right in front of the bed keeping her back turned as you softly crawled into the soft covers of the bed facing the other side of the bed room 'We just fought, I know that but, why aren't they hugging me? They usually snuggle with me to bed until they fall asleep no matter how bad the fight. ' Yelan's thoughts creeping into her mind 'Maybe-'

Her thoughts cut off hearing light snoring, calmly breathing in a pattern from your side of the bed. Turning around and hugging you from behind, she wasn't the type to do this even though she knew that she felt as if it was right she had gotten so used to your warmth she couldn't sleep without it.

'I'll talk it with you tomorrow my darling, anything as long as it makes you feel better. " Her mind drifted off letting her guard down because she knew she would eventually tell everything to you in the morning, and that you would accept her even if she was a moron for letting you worry.

[miniscule-meow]

Charlie and Felix: Phone Calls

Masterpost Wordcount: ~2k Warnings: lots of swears? First Part | Last Part | Next Part

---

Sitting in her dorm room, she sighs, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling. She is supposed to be focusing on her biology homework, but she keeps replaying her conversation with Felix in her head. So, he transferred from Rosehill University. That’s, like, The number one Supers college. Her brothers all go there. Or, went there. Her two oldest brothers, Elias, and Asher, have both already graduated. Mars is a senior now, and Jeremey, her twin, is a junior. Considering Felix is a junior as well, Jeremy and Mars might have had some classes with him. She pulls out her phone and texts Jeremy.

“Hey. Do you know Felix Westwell?”

“Ya. That guy is a jerk.”

Her brother’s response comes. Shortly after, her phone buzzes again, he adds,

“He got like, expelled lmao”

She replies,

“Nah, he just transferred to Bayshear.”

“??? WTF! Dude that’s crazy. Stay away from him. He’s bad news Frfr”

“We have a class together. He seems… nice enough.”

After that message, she immediately gets a phone call.

“Hello—” she starts to answer, but she’s immediately cut off.

“Char, I am so serious. You do not want to mess with that guy,” Jeremy’s loud voice announces as soon as she picks up the phone.

“Okay. Uh, cool. I just wanted to see if you knew him. I’ve had like, a couple of run-ins with him and he—”

“What kind of ‘run-ins’? What does that mean?” He cuts her off again, she rolls her eyes.

“I mean, we have a class together. We did a group project, calm down. Aside from that we’ve had like, one conversation,” she can already tell that she does not want to tell him out about her conversation with Felix yesterday. “He mentioned he transferred from Rosehill. I didn’t ask him about you though, he didn’t really want to talk about school.”

“Yeah, no shit!” Jeremy barks a laugh, “He got his ass expelled.”

“So, you weren’t like friends or anything then," she states.

“Friends,” Jeremy scoffs, “Yeah, for a while until he decided to go off the fucking deep end. Did you know he put Mars in the school infirmary for a month? He never apologized for that."

“Wait- that was because of him?” she asks, her heart sinking. She remembers that happening. It was late last year. Mars ended up being fine, thanks to the healers, but it was a really scary time. Apparently, that’s just sort of the nature of the school. When you’re strong enough, it’s common that other students will try to challenge that.

“Yeah man, he’s fuckin’ volatile.” Jeremy confirms.

Involuntarily, her heart begins pounding. Her mind drifts back to yesterday. Felix’s ability is no joke, she can definitely see that. But it’s crazy to think that the hands that held her yesterday were the same ones that nearly crushed her brother. Not that Felix was particularly gentle with her, not that she’s surprised he’s capable of it. It’s just that she didn’t truly consider how much danger she was in, until now.

“I guess. He definitely seems to have a short temper," she muses.

“To say the least,” Jeremy says with a huff, “It’s starting to sound like you’ve maybe had more than just a couple run-ins, Char. Spill it.”

“You’re going to freak out," she winces.

“I mean, now that you've said that, yeah, I want to freak out. The more you keep stalling, the worse I'm imagining.”

“Promise me that you’ll be chill," she asserts.

“Char,” he sighs.

“Promise!”

“Fine, whatever. I promise I’m going to be so chill about whatever horrible thing you’re about to tell me," she can hear the eye-roll in his voice.

“Okay so like, he was getting picked on for being a super—”

“Which he deserves,” Jeremey interrupts immediately, she should have put money on that happening. “He like, embodies all the reasons mundanes hate supers.”

“Germ, it was like, really problematic, okay? And besides, the guys messing with him didn’t know he was a super for sure. Anyway,” she begins, before her brother can cut her off again. “He ran off into the woods and I sort of followed him.”

“Charlotte,” he sounds disappointed, “you can’t just follow people into the woods.”

“I want to point out that I didn’t know he was a super at this point.”

“Uh, that’s,” he cuts himself off with an incredulous noise. “That’s so beside the point? Super or not, you shouldn’t just follow people into the woods, period.”

“So anyway,” she says, getting them back on track, “I wanted to check on him, and he showed me his ability. We talked for a while, it wasn’t a big deal," she tried to gloss over her explanation of the events.

“Wait, wait, wait. Run that by me again. He showed you his ability?” He asks, she can already hear the freakout that’s about to happen.

“You said you’d be cool about it!” She reminds him.

“I—” He takes an audibly deep breath, “by ‘showed you his ability’ do you mean that he used it against you?” His voice has a faux sense of calm to it.

“I don’t know that I would describe it like that.”

“Did he touch you, yes or no?” He asks, his voice trembling with a rage she can hear even through the phone.

“It’s not a big deal, Germ," she says, trying to smooth this over.

“Yes or no, Charlotte I’m being so for real right now.”

“Alright, so like only a little bit," she admits, "but I'm really fine. I’m really super fine, I promise—”

“Oh my god!” he explodes. “If I see him again, it is on fuckin’ sight.”

“No! No J, it is not ‘on sight’ do you even hear yourself!”

“Do you hear yourself?” He returns immediately. “Listen, Mars is strong as hell. Did you not hear the part where I said that Felix put him in the infirmary for a month. That’s four weeks with advanced healers, dude.”

“Alright, I get it—”

“Do you? Seriously? Like, all of his ribs were broken. He literally almost died, and he's fucking Mars. You're you! You should not be putting yourself in these situations! You’re not invincible, Charlotte! I mean, you’re out there all by yourself, you can’t just—I mean, I’m not there, Mars isn’t there, like,” he heaves a frustrated sigh.

“What, Jeremy. You’re not here to protect me?” She can feel herself flash with a hot spark of anger, “Just because I don’t have powers, doesn’t mean that I’m completely helpless!”

“Stop. That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it,” he counters. “I’m saying, the whole point of you going to a mundane school was so you could just be around some normal people for once! But, Of course, you go and find the one super in the whole school. Of course, the one super at your school would be the most dangerous guy I know. Fucking great. I swear, it’s like you look at danger and just think Yeah, that looks friend-shaped, why not!”

“Whatever, Jeremy. Felix and I aren’t even friends! I told you we just had like, one conversation. He was sort of a jerk anyway. I—” she huffs, “look, I’ve got a lot of homework to take care of. I’ll talk to you later.”

She hangs up quickly, tossing her phone aside with a frustrated swear.

Jeremy has always been super protective of her. She understands where he’s coming from, and she can’t say that he’s wrong. But still. It’s so frustrating to hear him say it. Yes, she should be more careful. Yes, he’s not here to protect her. Yes, it’s scary that Felix nearly killed her brother. She didn't know that before.

Maybe she has a worse judge of character than she originally thought.

---

“Mr. Westwell, this has been an enlightening session,” his advisor says as they finish their online check-in. It’s what she always says, and it typically means that he’s done a bad job convincing her that he’s, he doesn’t know, normal? He supposes that's what she's looking for. Whatever it is she’s looking to get from him, it would seem as though he hasn’t been able to provide that just yet.

Even when he comes in, trying to answer the questions the way she wants them to be answered, he’s always met with a ‘this has been enlightening.’ She'll take her report back to the school, and he'll be stuck at this shitty mundane college. Theoretically, if he's on his best behavior, eventually Rosehill will accept him back. He doesn't think that's really going to happen.

“One more thing before I leave you, have you made any friends at Bayshear?” She asks.

“With any of the mundanes?” He scoffs, “I hardly see how that’s relevant.”

“Hm,” she says, obviously disappointed. She tilts her head, making a note of that response.

“Well, alright. I’ve made one friend, if it’s that important,” he covers quickly, crossing his arms with a huff. The coordinator pauses. The picture of her on his screen looks up at him over the rim of her glasses.

Great now he needs to think of a believable lie. Or, actually, wait. Maybe it doesn’t need to be a lie. It certainly won’t be the entire truth, but he might actually have something here.

“I met this girl. Her name is Charlotte. I don’t, uh, I don’t know her last name. She’s in one of my gen-ed classes, we were partners on a project.”

“Alright,” the coordinator does not sound terribly impressed. Now that he's heard himself say it out loud, he isn't really impressed either. Felix runs the mental math, trying to figure out if telling her what really happened would be better or worse for his record. She had asked him the story behind his black eye earlier, and he completely fielded the question, changing the subject entirely. Maybe he can actually spin this one though. It's worth a shot.

“Okay, fine. Do you want the story about my eye?” He says, gesturing to his still swollen face, The coordinator takes of her glasses, listening with a raised brow. “I’m not changing the subject, it kind of all goes together,” he sighs. “So these guys were being really obnoxious, and I know you probably won't believe me, but they actually started a fight with me. I swear I was actually trying to de-escalate and everything. But, I mean, long story short,” he gestures again to his face. “Maybe you should put in your notes that I lost a fight to a couple mundanes on purpose. If they were supers that would not have happened. But,” he raises his hands, digressing.

"I went out to the woods nearby to blow off some steam and Charlie- uh, Charlotte, the girl from my class, she followed me. I was like, ‘hey you need to leave,’ because I was going to use my ability, and I obviously didn’t want her there for that. Because I'm actually really trying to be on my best behavior and not traumatize the random mundanes here. But, she is the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, so did she leave? Of course not. So, I grew, but she didn’t freak out. She was really normal about it. Uh, we," he decides to respectfully omit all the middle parts of the story, "we just, ended up talking. Apparently her brothers go to Rosehill? I don’t know. She also said she wouldn’t tell anyone about my abilities because the mundanes are weird about that sort of thing here. And, anyway. I don’t know. That’s probably a lot of nothing. It’s a new development. But yeah, we’re totally friends. Check.”

“Felix, that is…” enlightening. Yeah, whatever. He predicts her next words, but he's surprised when she says instead, “that is really some great progress. I’m happy to hear that,” she says. He looks up. “I hope to hear more about Charlotte next time, she sounds like she could be a good influence for you.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah for sure,” he says, and with that the videocall ends. This is great news for him. Charlie is such a social butterfly. And so far, he hasn’t really been able to get her to leave him alone.

Maybe he’ll make a friend after all.