#did something happen and he didn't know her that well
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Heartburn | bfd!harry
Summary: You and Harry have been anxious about seeing Fae at your baby shower but things go so well it leaves you both feeling relieved. Except for the small run-in with Fae's mom.
A/N: It's been a while! Forgive me!
Word Count: 4k+
Warning: mentions of pregnancy symptoms, smut, lactation kink (requested!), minor angst
bfd!harry masterlist
. .
When Harry got home that day, he was early to your surprise. You kissed him on the lips and then followed him into the kitchen, waddling after him as you asked him how his day was.
He placed his palms down on the counter and let out a deep sigh, “Well… Fae’s mom stopped at the office to talk to me.”
You placed your hands on your tummy, “And what happened?”
Harry looked at you then down to your belly before moving toward you and placing his big hands over yours, “She had some extreme opinions about this. But I told her it wasn’t her business. Because it’s not. But she isn’t happy. She said some things that made it seem like she might stop by here to talk to you so I left work early just in case. I think she was just trying to get me riled up.”
"Why would she want to talk to me, though? What good does that do?"
"I don't know but she may be dropping off Fae for the baby shower tomorrow. Fae's car is in the shop. So it might be a possibility. I don't know if she was just bluffing but I'll be here with you all day so I won't let it get out of hand."
You nodded, "I know if you're here it'll be fine."
Harry leaned in and kissed your forehead sweetly. The fact that he came home early just in case his ex-wife might show up had you quite comforted. He was often protective, especially lately.
"What did you eat today?" He lifted a brow and took your hand to lead you toward the kitchen cupboard.
He always asked for the rundown of what you ate.
"I blended up all that fruit you cleaned for me this morning and added oats and frozen spinach…" you watched him grin as he pulled down a glass, "Then I had the rest of the grilled chicken sandwich leftover from Lando's then those chocolate chip oat cookies you made."
He poured water into the glass and handed it to you, "And how much water have you had today?"
You rolled your eyes, "A few glasses. Enough to send me running to the bathroom all morning."
"Good. Have another for me," he thumbed at your cheek with a satisfied grin.
What he didn't know was that you'd eaten every last chocolate chip oat cookie that was left. 7 in total. He'd figure it out soon enough. But he made amazing cookies and for some reason, the addition of the oats just made the texture far more appealing and you couldn't stop eating them.
"Take a nap today?"
You shook your head as you gulped the glass down.
"Not tired?"
Not after all that sugar you'd eaten.
"Feeling nervous about tomorrow, I think. Fae texted me this morning to ask if she should bring anything and I got so excited over her asking I got really bad heartburn and had to take a walk up and down the street to calm myself."
"You got heartburn from being excited?" He asked as he reached into the refrigerator to look for something. You peeked over his shoulder.
Shrugging to yourself you put your hand on his back, "I think so. Seems like I get heartburn from just about anything these days."
Harry peered over each shelf and then turned, closing the refrigerator door, "Where are all the cookies?"
A hot flush of slight embarrassment washed over your neck and your shoulder blades, "I ate them."
"All of them?" He asked with a surprised laugh.
You nodded with a sweet smile.
Harry placed his hands on your cheeks, cradling your face as he laughed through his nose, "You sure that's not the reason for your heartburn? There were like ten of them."
"Seven," you corrected with a sputtered laugh and Harry's shoulders shook in quiet amusement as he pushed the tip of his nose into yours. "And I ate the cookies after the heartburn. In fact, they seemed to cure it."
Harry squished a kiss to your lips and then turned to open up the refrigerator again, "Well then I need to make you more cookies, don't I?"
. .
Your nerves were on fire. You woke up extra early because you couldn't sleep and you couldn't get comfortable. You were going to be seeing Fae and you felt like you were going to throw up. God, being pregnant made your body respond to stress so violently. It was one thing you would not miss about being knocked up. That and the random heartburn and how clumsy you'd gotten.
But you couldn't say you hated pregnancy. You loved carrying Harry's baby and you had already fallen in love with it. Also, when you were in the mood to have sex, your orgasms were so intense it melted every little bit of worry away.
Standing in the kitchen with a chocolate chip oat cookie in hand from the fresh batch Harry had made, you heard the sound of shuffling coming from behind and then felt his hands on your upper arms, "Up so early, baby. Everything okay?"
You chewed your bite and let yourself lean back into his chest, "I'm just so nervous about today. Felt like I was gonna throw up."
Harry smiled against your ear, "So your solution is to eat more cookies?"
You nodded and laughed when he ran his fingers up your ribs, "Mama can eat as many oat cookies as she wants. Need anything else?"
His fingers continued their path up and around to your front, grazing over your nipples and softly squeezing at them over the cotton fabric of your oversized nightshirt.
You inhaled sharply through your teeth, "Careful. I've been like… lactating a little."
Harry didn't stop kneading at them, his rough morning voice in your ear was slow, "I know. So fucking sexy, aren't you? Gonna miss when this is gone," he ran his palms over your tummy and then kissed down the back of your neck before turning you around and pulling you by the hand toward the living room. The sun hadn't completely risen yet. The living room was dark but there was the slightest peek of orange sun coming in as he brought you to the couch, making you sit down as he got to his knees between your legs.
You had long forgotten about the cookie in your hand when he took it from you and placed it on the coffee table behind him, smoothing his palms up your thighs. The sweltering nerves you felt upon waking had suddenly turned into a heat pooling in your guts. He slid his hands up your nightshirt and over your bare tummy, lifting the fabric until he'd gotten to your tits where he cupped both sides and leaned forward to suckle at each side. His wet tongue and warm puffy lips on your sensitive breasts had your skin igniting.
He coasted his gaze up to your eyes as his mouth pulled at a nipple and he moaned, the look he gave you was a budding spark of fire as you watched his tongue lave the underside of your breast before wrapping his lips around your bud and sucking.
He blinked and parted from you as he wrapped his hand around your tit and focused on your nipple intently. You were leaking. He pressed his tongue over your tender nipple and lapped at it, swiping up the colostrum and then attaching his lips to take another pull, suckling as he looked up at you. A frown line carved onto the bridge of his nose before he closed his eyes and a groan vibrated into your breast.
You were surprised by how much you enjoyed it. The thrum of arousal that poured into your tummy as he laved and sucked bloomed and swelled until you were mewling with your fingers in his hair and your head thrown back into the cushions of the couch.
He kissed his way to the other side, wet smacking sounds coming from his mouth as he latched on again, working your other nipple until that side was leaking as well.
But then his fingertips found the warm crease between your legs and he gently stroked his pads up and down when he realized how wet you'd gotten.
"You like that?" His words were slurred, lazy as he looked at you through half-lidded eyes.
You nodded, "I do."
He grinned with his jaw slack as he watched your eyes when he tucked two fingers into your pussy and gently slid them in and out, "I can tell."
Harry put his lips back on your breasts as he fingered you slowly right there on the couch as the sun came up. He was moaning and rocking himself against the cushion as your pussy slushed around his fingers.
Every time he pressed in all the way his palm bumped over your clit but it wasn't enough. Finally, you grabbed his wrist and held his fingers in place so his palm was flat on your bud as you attempted to move your hips and roll against him. Everything was harder with your big belly in the way but you were so close…
"Fuck…" you gasped when you felt the tiny shock of your orgasm shudder beneath your skin. It was a light orgasm. Not the usual intense ones you'd been having lately but it was good and it had your skin tingling.
Harry watched you as you finished and he moaned softly, hips still nudging into the couch as he looked from your face to your tits and licked up little droplets seeping from your nipples.
You sighed and slid your bottom to the edge of the couch with your legs still spread for him, "You need it too."
Harry was practically shaking as he pushed his shorts down and pumped his cock, smearing his head around on your wet folds before gently pushing himself inside with a heavy groan of relief.
He was breathing softly, small puffs of moans and grunts as he watched himself glide in and out. You both looked down at the spectacle. Your big belly was in the way but every time he pulled back to his tip you could see the base of him coated in your wetness before he pressed his length back into the hilt.
And that was what felt like real relief. His cock. His fingers, always magical… but his cock… life-changing. You couldn't even say that was a dramatic thing to think either. Harry's dick was perfect. Big and hard when it needed to be, filled up all your bits on the inside just right. You were no saint before Harry. You'd slept with a decent amount of guys to know a good cock, and not even a good cock could save a guy from being bad at sex. But Harry had it all in that department. He was so good and his cock was beautiful. So meaty and so long. He knew exactly how to make you come.
You inhaled sharply and kept your eyes on his face as he worked into you steadily. He was fucking you in that way that drove you crazy. Not fast and not slow. Like he was taking a nice sports car up the street and just hitting the speeding limit. It could have gone so much faster. It could have taken your breath away and given you a rush. But right then, he had just one purpose; getting you from point A to point B gently and with precision. Too fast and he worried he might hurt you. Too slow and he'd come before you could. But this… steady and strong with the kind of build that was going to make you explode at your arrival was what he was shooting for.
"Mmm…" you moaned and he flicked his eyes up to your face.
"Yeah… How's that feel? Gonna come again, Y/n?"
You twisted your face up and nodded, "Mmhmm… yes… Just like that, Harry."
He rolled into you languid, solid, thick. It made your blood sizzle as your legs quivered.
But then he leaned in, cock still driving into you, and began working on your nipples again. Sucking and smushing and kissing wetly. He moaned against your breasts and you felt the heavy throb of his cock inside of you.
When he ghosted the tip of his tongue over your bud slowly you watched him lap at your milk. His eyes were pools of ink on yours, dark pupils spread over his irises as he continued fucking into you at that maddening steady pace.
You began to flutter and squeeze around him, your voice wobbled as you started to come and that time, your orgasm wiped you out. Your limbs shook as Harry's deep voice muttered against your breasts, his cock stretching you wide and then you felt him pumping into you, his own moans a higher octave, soft against your neck as he released his fertile come into your guts.
Now you were ready to take on the day.
. .
Your mother and father were the first to arrive to help with setting the place up. Your aunt and Harry's cousins were next. You tried to distract yourself knowing that soon Fae would be there and you'd be face-to-face with her again. It'd been months since you'd last seen her at Target. And things had been very cordial over text so you were hopeful.
"Harry! I need help pulling this zipper up!" You called from the bedroom, door ajar, hoping he'd hear you from downstairs.
Just before you were about to call out again you heard his heavy steps as he bounded up the stairs toward you. He was always listening for you. You shouldn't have doubted. He'd probably have heard the faintest whisper he was so cautious and protective with you.
"I'm here, baby…" he breathed out and closed the door behind himself, big hands spinning you around so he could finish zipping your dress up. You felt him kiss your shoulder and then your neck, "Gorgeous as always. Feeling good?"
You nodded, "Yeah. Feel really good. Still a little nervous but nothing crazy. Excited to see Fae."
Just then the doorbell rang. It could have been anyone but you and Harry looked at each other for a quick beat, quiet understanding passing between you both. He was nervous about seeing Fae too. She'd only been communicating with you. Had yet to reach out to her father, though she mentioned she was looking forward to seeing him.
And now that you were pregnant, even though you hadn't even yet met your baby, you couldn't imagine what it must feel like to have a strained relationship with them as an adult.
You slid your hand into Harry's, "Let's get down there."
Everything was soft blue and green and yellow with little dashes of pink and violet pastels. You and Harry decided not to find out what the sex was going to be. In truth, you didn't care but you had an inkling it was going to be a girl.
Your mother had set up tables and chairs and snacks were lined up on the kitchen island with cute paper plates that had little yellow bears and green butterflies printed all over them.
It wasn't a formal affair. Your mother had wanted to host the shower at the member's club your dad was part of. But the last thing you wanted was to spend all that money for an afternoon of having friends and family celebrate you for getting knocked up.
The person who had arrived when the doorbell rang was Shelcin. She was dressed in a brightly colored floral dress with big puffy sleeves and ruffles at the hem. It was very Copacabana minus the fruit headdress. You would have expected nothing less.
She kissed your bump and then your cheeks and loudly announced that she bought you the most expensive baby monitor… "That way, even when you and Harry are having hot sex you'll know when the baby's up. No worries about missing a single thing!"
You laughed as your mother placed the gorgeously wrapped box next to the others. Harry's cousin glanced at you and the loud Colombian woman. One thing you'd learned about Shelcin was that she wasn't quiet and she didn't hold back her opinions or vulgarities. You loved it.
With the next chime of the doorbell, you felt Harry behind you as you both stood facing the door. Your mother opened it and there she was. Fae.
Your face brightened and your heart raced as you felt Harry's grip on your arms tighten the slightest, "You okay?"
You looked up at him, "I'm fine. You?"
He blinked and let out a breath, "I will be."
Fae smiled softly as she thanked your mother who took the gift she'd brought. She stepped into the living, looking all around. It was the first time she'd been in the house so it was all new to her.
You and Harry moved toward her and it felt like slow motion as she spotted you and her dad, "Oh wow."
Her eyes got big when she looked down at your belly and you put your hands over your tummy, "I know. About to pop."
Fae hesitated for a moment before stepping in and giving you a hug. It was warm and it felt right. You thought you might pass out, but luckily Harry was standing close just in case your nerves and stress rendered you unconscious.
When Fae pulled away she smiled at her dad, "Hi, dad. You look good. I–"
Harry sniffed and moved in quickly to wrap his arms around his daughter. You knew by that sniff that he was tearing up already.
You watched them as they clung to each other and then you saw his shoulders gently shaking. You knew he'd cry. Harry was emotional, especially about Fae. He didn't talk about it a lot but when you two did sit and discuss it he'd always get worked up over it and have to look up at the ceiling so his tears didn't spill down his face.
Even though you weren't surprised by his tears, it still got you emotional too and you covered your mouth to muffle the small gasp as a tear rolled down your cheek.
Seeing Fae again was better than you imagined. You were still a bit awkward with each other but you were looking forward to rekindling the relationship.
Harry made opening gifts far more entertaining than it should have been. Everyone laughed as Harry made comments and took guesses at what was in each box before handing them to you. He was a regular comedian all of a sudden. You knew he secretly loved the attention.
At one point you picked up a pair of scissors to break through some thick unruly tape on one of the gifts and he quickly dove in and took them from you to open the box himself because he didn't want you to hurt yourself. Everyone oohed and ahhed at how doting he was but you just shook your head and let him have his moment. Honestly, Harry was the star at your baby shower and you really wouldn't have preferred it any other way.
When it was time to toss plates and cups and wrapping paper as guests began to leave, Fae stayed behind to help.
You learned she'd gone to Italy for three weeks over the summer, had started a new job, and had begun dating someone new recently. It was wild how quickly life changed. It didn't feel like all that much time had passed since you'd first started seeing Harry but it was going on 2 years already. Even if a decent chunk of that time was while he was still married, it felt like it'd all just flown by.
Harry joined in to chat with you and his daughter for a while as your mother and father insisted on finishing up cleaning. Fae was so open and receptive that you kept feeling like at any moment the mood would burst. It felt too good to be true.
And it was like you just knew better than to let yourself feel too excited when a knock came to the front door.
Fae glanced toward the sound and then back at you and Harry, "I think it's Mom. She's picking me up."
The three of you stood and walked to the door as Fae opened it up, "Hey. You should have just texted. I'd have met you out there."
Her mother looked from Fae then toward you and your very pregnant belly. A shock of something like hurt and then loathing shadowed her face. Bitterness. She looked up at Harry, "You must be so happy. Your new family should do perfectly to replace your old one."
"Mom, don't." "Hey. Not okay."
Both Harry and Fae spoke at the same time, chiding the woman who slid her gaze back toward you as Harry clutched an arm around you to keep you closer to his side
"I hope you're proud, Y/n. Congratulations. Let's hope your child's best friend doesn't meet H–"
He gently stepped in front of you and pointed outside, "Go. I don't want you here. This is not the time."
Fae put her hands on her mom's arms and turned to look back at you with an expression of apology as she walked them both away from the house, "I'll call you. We'll get together soon."
Harry closed the door and took your hand, "It was such a good day, too."
You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled, "It still is a good day, Harry. Everything with Fae? Nothing can erase that. It was beautiful. Everything. I wish that that hadn't just happened but…" you shook your head as you watched a small smile creep up on his face, "Today was amazing. I'm so happy."
A sheen of tears filled his eyes and he squeezed your hand, "I'm happy too, Y/n. I love you so much."
"So, where should I put all these?" Your mom asked, oblivious to what had just happened as she gestured toward the table filled with gifts, "Upstairs in the baby room?"
You and Harry laughed as you looked at your mother, the sweet moment interrupted. He wiped his eyes and sniffed again.
"Yeah. We can help. I know where I want everything–" You started to move toward the table.
"You will sit down, prop your legs up, and rest while I help your mom and dad," Harry scolded as he walked you to the couch.
Honestly, you should have known that he was going to make you relax. You kissed his cheek as he helped lower you to sit, "You're too much, Harry."
He raised his brow and turned to kiss you quickly on the lips, "Good. Then I'm doing it right." He pulled away and bent down to grasp around your shins and bring your legs up onto the couch before tucking a pillow under your knees.
He stood and looked down at you, "Need anything before I go up there?"
You shook your head, "No. Got the remote right here," you raised it upward and smiled.
"Alright," then he pointed at you, "You better keep your pretty ass right here the whole time. I don't want to have you walking around trying to clean anything up. Understood?"
You laughed softly and saluted him, "Yes, sir."
He shook his head and bent down over you, one hand resting on the arm of the couch behind you as he spoke quietly into your ear, "Watch the attitude or I'll have to give you a spanking."
You reached up for his collar to keep him close and grinned, "You'd spank a pregnant woman?"
A lopsided grin took over his expression and his eyes flashed with something mischievous, "I absolutely would. It would have to be modified of course, but it'll sting your ass just as good. Behave."
He walked away and you watched him, all masculine broad shoulders and dark curls as he disappeared up the stairs with your parents –as if he hadn't just threatened, with heavy sexual undertones no less, to spank your ass.
A wide smile stretched across your face. God, you loved him.
. .
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Her father fell silent, and Violet felt as if her stomach was a ribbon too, tied into tight knots. She sat there, watching him with concern. Was he upset? Was he shocked? Violet didn't know, but the seconds stretched, unbearably quiet. She opened her mouth and closed it just a soon, unsure what to say. How to make it better? How to make it easier for her dad? Should she have lied and kept it all a secret?
The silence broke when he fell from the couch, his body hitting the ground with a muffled "thump," and Violet rushed to his side. "Dad?" she asked, shyly at first, hesitant, and then louder. "Dad? Dad, are you okay?" His eyes were open, he was breathing. But then why had he fallen from the couch?
She put her hand on his shoulder, gently shaking it. "Are you sick? Do you need a glass of water?" Violet didn't understand what was happening. Was he so horrified to find out the truth? She felt tears welling up in her eyes. Violet did not realize that her words had opened a door he had kept locked for decades. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to help him. "Dad, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please say something."
Theo almost wanted to not listen to her, to deny what she was telling him. That she believed she had gone into his past and saw him in the ward. That she had turned up in that very same, exact ward where everything that had happened was very real but very distant was now known by Violet, his daughter.
She gave the name, Mauve. The very name that was written in faded crayon on that old drawing from decades ago. His heart only beat harder and his breath turned heavy as if he had just ran a marathon. He stopped, pushed a hand to his shoulder where the bite mark had been and recalled the name from the file he had looked through after closing the ward.
His eyes glazed over and even as she explained that the Horned One had been responsible for that change in the records he didn't quite hear it. All he could hear was his heart in his ears while his mind seemed to unlock a very terrible flood gate. He saw Violet's face in the ward with him, the smiles, the tears, the screams, that they had plotted escape, that he had followed her to Cecil's room, which unlocked Cecil to his minds eye, and Dan the orderly Cecil had fought with because they had dropped the note framing him which had lead to them being beaten and shocked unconscious in the doctor's office, Doctor Heartland's office. The faces rushed back, the memories all of them opened at once.
Theo fell from the couch away from her. He couldn't see or hear her, not really, while he knew he was in his own living room decades later she had inadvertently put him right back in the ward with her revelation. Her face paired with that name had been the key to a door he had never wanted unlocked. He felt sick, terrified, and so confused all at once. Everything. Everything that had happened to him over the months of near torture in that place all open for his mind to sift though, piece after piece after piece.
#&(killian beneventi)#violet (there's no happy endings)#multipleoccupancy#delta green verse#read at your own discretion
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yandere viktor with an innocent and naive reader but with magical abilities, where the reader knows how to use simple magic like conjuring plants or controlling water... ((the reader only knows the basics of magic, since no one taught it and this magic would be the only one so far who knows how to do it, and the reader was a little scared of being in a rush or being studied like a lab rat because she has magic, but she confided her secret to Viktor...)) Why do you do that?
Y!Viktor x GN!Mage!Reader
a/n: posting this before act 2 omg, i think i need a rewatch — btw this one only has very light yandere undertones,, ..erm
🫧 ;
"Psst. Hey, want to know a secret?"
Viktor blinked. His eyes followed the moving reflection on the iridescent river. Your figure was mirrored in the water, an unreadable expression on your face.
... He looked up, alarmed. Were you talking to him? Viktor didn't even know you.
You met his amber eyes. For whatever reason, on the edge of the cliff just above the water, you folded your legs against your chest and buried half your face in your arms.
"Well?" you pushed, voice muffled.
His mouth opened, then closed. Viktor nodded wordlessly instead.
" ... Promise me you won't tell anyone."
Without a moment's hesitation, the young boy nodded again.
He watched as you stood up and jumped steadily into the river, splashing him and his mechanical boat. A low, frustrated groan escaped him as water seeped into his clothes.
"Oh, sorry," you said as he tried to wipe the water from his face. "Let me get that for you."
Suddenly, Viktor felt his weight gradually become less unpleasant—almost refreshing, even, as if the water slid across and away from his skin and clothes.
That's when he saw it.
A small blob of water, floating in the air. It moved carefully like it was fragile.
Then came another, and another. Small specks came together until it formed one single bubble.
Abruptly, it dropped in the river. Like nothing ever happened. Viktor's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Cool, right?" you grinned. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, his jaw gaping. One of your hands was lifted, fingers poised in a manner of delicacy.
"You," Viktor finally spoke, stammering, his breathing ragged. "You did that? Was that... magic?"
You chuckled, settling yourself beside him. He turned to you, scooting over to make room, and met your steady gaze. “I think so. But I was serious when I said never, ever tell anyone.”
He shook his head, utterly appalled. "Is this some sort of trick?"
"I wish—"
“This is not funny,” he snarled, his demeanor shifting completely, catching you off guard. “If you’re just here to get a reaction out of me, I’d advise you and your friends to leave. Please.”
You frowned, standing up with your fists clenched. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m so sorry! And I don’t… even have friends.”
Viktor searched your face.
There's nothing to suggest a lie. He's observant, and he quietly prides himself over it, but this is one of the few cases where he genuinely starts to doubt his judgment.
"But," you sighed, turning away. "I'll leave if that's what you want. Apologies."
...
"... Wait."
— 🌱
The leaves of the seedling barely moved.
"Aw," you chuckled, dropping your arm to your side. Who knew conjuring plant powers could be so draining? "Well, I tried. Let's take a break!"
He let out a choked noise, pausing his writing. "We barely started! How is it that whenever you get to try something new and amazing, you avoid it?”
...
You didn't respond immediately.
Viktor put down his notebook, looking back at you, who was blankly staring at him.
"I guess I'm... scared?" you said, tilting your head. To his surprise, you gently grabbed his hand, running your thumb across his palm.
His face warmed. He physically couldn't say or do anything.
"You're the only one who knows about this, Vik," you muttered, your eyes fixed on his rough skin. "I sprung this on you when we were kids, which is kind of hilarious, by the way, but I had a reason. In my mind, you were the only one who would understand."
He thought so, too.
Viktor couldn’t stop himself from slipping his fingers between yours. It was a good thing you weren’t looking at him—otherwise, you might’ve seen how red his face had become.
"And you told me no one will believe me," he said, and while the memory was of you giving him a serious warning, his tone was filled with nothing but endearment.
"I still stand by that," you laughed, pulling your hand away from his, much to his disappointment. You still hadn't glance at his face. He mentally scolded himself for almost hoping you would see his expression. "Especially with our age now. They'll just think you're crazy."
"I understand," he chuckled, turning away. "About that break... you want to go to our usual?"
A smile curled on your lips. "Yes, please!"
— 💌
Viktor said he has a surprise for you.
Admittedly, you're feeling extremely anxious. He grew up to become a researcher, an inventor—facts that don’t surprise you.
As his best friend, a person able to do magic, while absolutely shitty at it, you know he sees you as someone with massive potential. Literally. No one else in Piltover or Zaun is known to do this. Maybe in a hundred years—who knows? You didn't even have a proper education.
...
Viktor cleared his throat. "I've been offered a position in the University of Piltover."
You froze. The letter in his fingers bore the university’s wax seal in the center, bold and unmistakable.
“Holy shit,” you blurted, your eyes darting between him and the letter. “Holy shit!”
Jumping over to Viktor, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. The biggest, most triumphant smile tugged at your lips. He staggered a little, but you were too wrapped up in your happiness to notice.
"Language," he laughed, hugging you back.
You snickered. "I'm so proud of you! Words can't even begin to express how happy I am for you!"
Pulling back, your hands still rested on his shoulders. Your smile relaxed ever so slightly as your eyes gazed into his softer ones.
"I knew you could do it," you exhaled.
A small pause.
Viktor had a look. Oh, shit. What’s that smirk for?
"...You're not done," you accused, raising an eyebrow.
He lifted the letter in his hand. "I have not accepted yet."
Now, your brows knitted together in utter confusion.
"... Why not—?"
"I said I won't be going unless they let me bring a plus one."
You smile faltered, denial crossing your face. He noticed it. Did he just say what you thought you heard him say?
"Are you saying...?" Your expression shifted into disbelief; you didn't quite understand his point.
"I want you to come with me," Viktor said, grabbing your hand and placing the letter in your palm. "To Piltover."
Oh, no. You didn't mean to.
The letter slipped from your hand as you panicked and pulled away.
Viktor felt overwhelmingly worried. He thought you'd be happier about the news.
Then, he looked around.
It had rained just before he decided to share the news. Some raindrops were still fresh, glistening from the downpour.
And around your figure, small droplets rose into the air. You were emotional.
"Viktor. You're not giving me to them, are you...?"
Defeated. That's how your voice sounded.
"Of course not," he hushed, pushing you onto a chair. "Never. Please calm down. Let me explain."
You obliged, sitting down. He sat beside you.
"I'm sorry," you spoke first, meeting his eyes. "It's not that I don't trust you. Heck, I trust you more than anyone. The thought of going up there... it just makes me anxious."
"I understand," Viktor nodded. He turned his head. "However, I promise you, I won’t let them take you away from me. You’ll be solely under my care. But I do know someone who’s willing to help us."
Viktor. So compassionate and filled with empathy. You admired him for those very reasons, not just for his brilliance. His presence feels like a whole other world to you—someone who could help you understand your abilities. Perhaps the only chance you have to truly learn who, or what you are.
"I'll be a burden."
"No. Of course not. I want you by my side."
You hesitated. Despite your family being clueless about your ability, they were still the people you cared for. You still had a life in the undercity.
"And if I refuse...?"
Viktor took a moment to respond. The thought of leaving you hurt his heart.
"You... I believe you don't have much of a choice."
You couldn't explain why, but you found it in yourself to wholeheartedly believe him.
— 💜
zamn
critique is welcome btw
#yan writes#yandere arcane#viktor arcane#yandere#yandere arcane x reader#viktor x reader#yandere viktor x reader#mage anon
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How would fb!chris react if he accidentally hurt shy!reader? (Maybe burns her with a lighter or something?)
And how would shy!reader react if she accidentally hurt fb!chris (maybe she nut taps him somehow? Idk)
NUT TAP LMAO
── ♯; fratboy!chris accidentally hurting shy!reader.
chris isn't quite sure how it happens. all he remembers is mindlessly flicking his lighter on and off while scrolling through his phone, and suddenly, a sharp, painful yelp pierces the air. he turns to see you, your eyes welling with fat tears, cradling yur arm against your chest, your bottom lip wobbling.
"what?" he snaps, confused and irritated. "what happened? what did you do?"
"you burnt me!" you wail, your voice thick with tears, hiccupping between each word. chris' first reaction is one of offense; how could you blame him for something like that?
he opens his mouth to retort, but his words catch in his throat when he sees the angry blister forming on the skin of your arm.
"shit," he murmurs, dropping the lighter onto the bedside table to reach for your arm, but you flinch way, refusing to let him as you pull back, and that causes him to grunt. "let me see it. i need to see it, kid."
after some hesitancy, you extend your arm, and he takes hold of it, pulling it closer to inspect the skin, and a grimace settles on his face at the sight of it.
"shiiit... you — y'know i didn't mean that, right? wouldn't hurt you on purpose, like, you know that yeah?" chris glances up, meeting your tearful eyes, seeking some sort of reassurance. but something shifts, and he continues. "you — you shouldn't have been fuckin' messin' around beside me anyway 'cos i didn't even have the lighter close to you—"
"chris," you cut him off, sniffling, clearly not wanting to be blamed right now. in that moment, he realises what he's doing and he bites down hard on his cheek, wrestling with his emotions.
"right. right, yeah," chris coughs, trying to mask his discomfort. "i.. m'sorry, bun. okay? didn't.. didn't mean it. i wasn't payin' attention."
you sniffle again and nod, seemingly accepting his apology. chris nods along with you before he slips out of the bed, scratching the back of his neck as he disappears into the bathroom, heart racing a bit.
a few seconds later, he returns with a first-aid kit in hand, the plastic clattering softly against his thigh when he sits back down opposite you, and he notices the confusion on your tear-streaked faced.
"burnt myself a few times. know what m'doin', alright? gonna.. gonna need you t'be brave, 'kay kid?"
you remain silent, save for the occasional hiccup and sniffle, as he opens the kit and pulls out a few antiseptic wipes and a roll of gauze. he rips open the packet with a quick motion, glancing up to meet your eyes for a split second.
"might sting.." he warns you. "but uh.. but it'll help."
as he gently dabs the wipe on your burn, you flinch in pain, a small whimper escaping your lips. chris grits his teeth, tightening his grip around the wipe, scrunching his nose in concentration as he carefully applies the gauze afterward.
"there we go," chris murmurs, finally securing the gauze in place. "just keepin' it clean. need to keep it clean." he meets your gaze again, scratching his cheek awkwardly as he adds. "y'did good, bun.. uh, brave. yeah."
── ♯; shy!reader accidentally hurting fratboy!chris.
you had got a bit overly excited.
you have been waiting for your results on your latest assignment for days, chewing the skin around your thumb, your nerves a mess as you repeatedly check your emails, waiting for the response from your professor.
then, it finally arrives — that email with your perfect score, and a joyful squeal erupts from your throat, echoing off the walls in the room. you can't help yourself; kicking your legs and flailing your arms in a fit of pure happiness, not even noticing that you are rolling toward chris, who lies beside you, blissfully oblivious and lost in a haze from smoking.
but then, in an instant, everything changes. your wild flailing fist makes contact with his balls, and your happiness shatters like glass when chris lets out a sound that is a half grunt, half gasp, his eyes snapping shut as he curls up in agony — that relaxed, floaty feeling he was experiencing, vanishing.
you freeze, your eyes widening in horror as you drop your phone, a gasp fleeting past your lips as you stare at him.
"fuck!" chris hisses, his voice strained. he squeezes his eyes tighter, cupping his balls protectively. "fuck.. fuck, you fuckin' b—" he stops mid-sentence with a sharp groan, and you know exactly what is about to call you, and you can't blame him.
"sorry sorry sorry sorry, i'm so so sorry," you panic through stammers, crawling closer to him, your heart racing as you reach out to touch his bicep. "chris, i'm really—"
"shut up." he grunts, cutting you off sharply. "just be fuckin' quiet — shit."
you jump out of the bed, your feet carrying you out of the bedroom as you flee downstairs, avoiding the weird and curious looks from other frat brothers as you dash into the kitchen, where matt stands in the corner, a peanut butter-covered rice cake frozen halfway to his mouth, watching you rummage frantically through the freezer to search for anything that might help chris.
you grab a bag of frozen veggies — a makeshift remedy — and sprint back up the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest. you catch a glimpse of nate as you pass, his eyebrows raised in confusion, but you don't stop to explain; you're too focussed on getting back to chris.
you burst back into the room, holding the back of veggies in your hands like it's a precious lifeline and hurry over to him, holding it out for him to take.
"seriously?" he manages to strain out, a mixture of disbelief and annoyance in his voice. reluctantly, he grabs the bag, grimacing as he places it down on his crotch, hissing softly in discomfort.
you watch him for a moment, your heart still racing. "i really didn't mean to—" you begin, but he shoots you a look that silences you, causing you to close your mouth instantly as you sit down on the edge of the bed, gnawing at your bottom lip.
#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰anon꒱#☆ fratboy!chris x shy!reader#☆ fratboy!chris#☆ shy!reader#★ ⋮ sturniolo hours !#★ ⋮ chris hours !
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second chances | s.r.
the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.
pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever too write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.
pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist
The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.
You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.
Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.
You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.
You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.
Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.
As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.
From: Penny
Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!
A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.
You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.
-
You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.
It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.
You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.
You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.
You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been, what could've been.
-
The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.
You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.
And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.
Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.
As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.
He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.
“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.
“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.
“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.
Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”
He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?
-
Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.
You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.
“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.
You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.
Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”
“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.
You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”
You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.
“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”
-
The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.
You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.
Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.
He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”
His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”
The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?
“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”
His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”
The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.
“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”
Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.
“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”
You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”
He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.
“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”
He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.
“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”
The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.
“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”
His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”
And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.
-
It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.
The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.
You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.
You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.
Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.
“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.
You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.
“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?” His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.
You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.
“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”
Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”
Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”
The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.
“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”
Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.
“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”
You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”
Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”
There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.
As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.
The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.
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#reidsbabyhoney#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#fic recs#spencer reid angst#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#angst with a happy ending#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds#bau team#fluff
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[[Figured I'd give it a go here!]]
My shoes were wet by the time I got to the manor, as were my pants and most of my belongings. Of course, the one time I didn't bring an umbrella was the time the sky decided to open up and pour all over me. Thankfully, I was able to take shelter on the mansion's deck, huddling under the roof. Despite the creepy and slightly worn-down look, it seemed the family was a fan of the macabre and kept their grounds well-maintained. There was a large graveyard in the distance, something that I had never seen on someone's property before, as well as several gargoyles and wrought-iron fences. Despite how soggy and cold I felt, I couldn't help but wonder what the townsfolk were going on about! These people probably just liked to embrace all things creepy and crawly.
I wiped the rain from my face, and noticed mascara stained my hands black. Great, I look like a friggin' raccoon now! I thought, desperately trying to find napkins somewhere in my purse. The door creaked open as I was wiping the mascara off of my face with a Taco Bell napkin, and I saw an extremely tall man with a square face standing in the doorway. He had to hunch over in order to properly see me, and was dressed in a full suit.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" I said in a hurry, stuffing my wet, soiled napkin back into my purse. I quickly motioned to the storm outside. "The, uhm... the rain slowed me down. I don't have a car, unfortunately. Um... I'm here about the ad?"
The tall man smiled. Lighting struck and thunder cracked as he did so, adding an uncomfortable amount of drama. He turned and began walking away, leaving the door open. At first, I thought he was going to close it in my face, but a moment went by before I realized he meant for me to follow him. I quickly ran inside, the mansion was colder than I had hoped, and carefully shut the door behind me.
I followed the tall man through the manor. The walls were covered with various pictures. Old family members in black and white look sternly ahead, though I could swear I saw their eyes following me as I walked by. A painting hangs over an unlit fireplace depicting a witch burning at the stake, which only furthered the unsettling atmosphere I found myself in. There were a couple of more recent ones as well, depicting a young girl in black, and a pudgy boy with short, black hair. Must be their kids, I thought.
Not long after, I found myself in a conservatory. Gnarled plants on tables line the large windows. A tall, slender woman in a clinging black dress stands in the middle, trimming a black rose bush. She noticed us enter, and she gave a slight smile.
"Ah, a guest. Thank you, Lurch." She said, coolly. The man gave a stiff bow, and left without a word. The woman in black locked eyes with me. "So, what brings you here on this fine afternoon? Were you responding to the ad?"
"Ah, yes ma'am! My name is Sherry. I'd normally agree with you, but the one time I didn't want rain was the day it happened!" She gave a weak laugh, but the woman didn't break her gaze. It was paralyzing, but I cleared my throat. "Anywho... I'm new in town, and I was looking for some extra cash. Times are tough, and when I saw the ad I figured... you know, I like kids! I figured I could watch over your little rascals while you're out and about!"
The woman's scarlet lips split into a smile. "Aahh, I'm happy to hear it! We've had that flier out for a while. I'll be honest, I was about to give up hope of ever finding a babysitter!"
"Y-yes, well... The locals didn't seem to fond of you guys, I'm not going to lie. They warned me about how "creepy" and "kooky" you guys are, but I figured they were just... I don't know... judging a book by its cover? I don't mind the creepy crawlies too much, so I think we'll get along just fine, eh?"
The woman seemed to glide across the ground as she came to shake my hand. "Morticia Addams is the name. Welcome to our terrifyingly humble abode." She motioned around her with her hands, "I'm glad you don't carry the same... prejudices some others have. I won't lie, though. You're not the first to come about the ad. Our kids... well, sometimes their creativity can get to be too much for our babysitters. We haven't been able to get them to stay more than one night! Heck, we've had a couple of people run off before we could pay them!" She let out a hearty cackle, and I weakly joined in with her.
"Haha, yeah, I'd at least have stayed for the money! At least, if it's as bad as you're saying..."
"Oh, nonsense! You're different from the others. Trust me, darling." She gives me a grin, "Besides, we always pay fairly. Even if it's not to your standards the cash will stay the same, if you'd like to get mercenary about it."
"Well, in that case... would you mind telling me how much I'll be paid?" I said meekly, afraid I'd seem ungrateful if I spoke about money too much. With a grin, Morticia led me back into the manor and to an office. She began pulling some lockboxes out with an old key. My mind wandered as she went through the boxes, and I began wondering if this job was right for me. Maybe I'm in over my head. The children's "creativity" seemed ominous, but there's no way that it's that bad, right? The entire town just hates the Addams Family. Maybe I should just make her way back out of the house, just to save my skin!
Though, once Morticia threw a heavy bag on the table, filled with coins and gems, I quickly changed my demeanor. "So..." I began, "When will I get started?"
[[This was fun! Maybe I'll continue this, if I get inspiration. It's a bit of a departure from what I usually do, after all!]]
You, new in town and strapped for cash, see an ad in the paper; apparently, a "Gomez and Morticia Addams" are in need of a babysitter to watch their two children during a business trip. Despite the VERY high pay, no one has pursued it. Ignoring warnings from the locals, you sign up.
#story writing#writer stuff#writeblr#aspiring writer#writers community#creative writing#trans#writer#the addams family#morticia addams#fanfic#2024
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thinking about pregnant tommy is rewiring my brain. thinking about him isolating himself and feeling guilty and horrible while desperately clinging to the fact that at least he still has part of evan with him.
Five months after they break up, Buck gets the courage to ask the guy from Air Ops supporting their hillside extraction if Tommy is the one flying the chopper. It doesn't hurt to be nice. The guy looks him up and down twice, eyes only, and says, "Buckley? No, man, he's been with the rehab unit for a month," before securing their guy and then he's going, going, gone.
Buck texts Lucy afterwards about it, curious. She doesn't respond.
"You hear Tommy's working rehab unit?" He asks Eddie when they're dressing down into their civvies later. "Did he get injured or something?"
"No clue, that guy stopped responding to my texts a few weeks after you two broke up," Eddie replies.
Buck's fingers slip buttoning up his own shirt. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"
Eddie shrugs. "You guys broke up. Tommy's cool and all, but I would get why he needs space. If he's been working rehab though, I wonder if something happened." Pauses, looks at Buck. "I'll text him for you."
He doesn't bring it up again. If Eddie texts, Buck never knows the response.
Buck drops it.
x
Two years after Tommy breaks up with him, Bobby pushes him out of the nest. Buck's spent the time leaning into Bobby's mentorship and when it becomes available, Bobby submits him as a candidate with full confidence for battalion chief up in Mendocino.
His career grows from there. He's not thrilled with working rural, but he learns to love his new team, and continues the traditions of his first house. He learns how to earn their respect.
There are a number of hook ups, men and women. It's a two hour drive to the bay, but that's not an impossible ask for him when he wants a little something more with no recognition.
His job is his love first.
x
"I saw your panel, uh," Buck says, starts, fumbles, "on Helitack. Sounds like you've really changed that program."
It's been almost a decade, but Buck could still recognize the slope of Tommy's broad shoulders, the tired, smile-driven drive of his cheek up to his eyes, the cliff-side cut of his chin, anywhere. Even with grays at Tommy's temples. It's a lifetime later, it feels like, but considering both of their ambition it would be a shock they wouldn't rub shoulders at the annual CFCA.
"Buck," Tommy says. He traces the rim of his shot glass with two fingers, and he doesn't look unhappy when he shifts up. He smiles, even. "Hey."
"Is uh, this seat taken?" Buck asks. Ten years erased. Tongue-tied and twisted guts all over again.
Tommy does pause for a second. But then he nods at the stool next to him at the hotel bar. "All yours, if you want it."
They catch up, a little. It's mostly Buck telling Tommy about working in rural NorCal, his team, and the strange, strange reality of operating in weed country.
"Who's that?" He asks, when Tommy's phone face-side up gets a text, then another. "Niece? Nephew?"
"Well," Tommy says, and he's quick with his phone but not quick enough for Buck not to notice the little girl posing with him on his lock screen photo, them jumping on a beach together-- his background looks like another picture with the girl, this time on a beach. "Daughter, actually."
A tumor borne of desire, of never being enough, gains weight in Buck's gut. After all this time, and yet. Tommy hadn't really seemed open to any kind of future with him, but this girl looks, she's old enough to be, probably right after--
"Cute," he says, softly. She looks ten years old. Her hair curls wispy and wild out of her braids and bangs, and Buck swallows back the bait instead of spitting it out. Maybe. "Takes after her dad."
Tommy nods. His smile has grown tight. "Actually, Evan."
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letters (MV33)
✰ max verstappen x childhoodbestfriend!reader ✰
summary → it was confusing, even though you were continents apart, you never understood why max never responded to your letters, until you attend the belgium gp to finally get the answers you were looking for. inspired by the prompt, "why did you never reply to my letters?" "you wrote me letters?"
genre → fluffy, the fluffiest fluff i've ever fluffed.
word count → 4.4k
author's note → i have worked on this non-stop for two days, and i loved the way it turned out, maybe one of my favorite works. enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing this!!
she was always around max, either from the sidelines or the first person max ran to when he won a race, it was always her. not even his father, even though he held his father to the highest regard, but it was always her.
the little wrinkles on the edge of her eyes when she smiled at him, the way her lips would curl up, or the way she would giggle every. single. time. that he would come and hug her after every race finish. he remembers it all. and the way he would snuggle his face in the crook of her neck and asked her softly after he would win a race, 'did you see me win, schatje?'
she would always smile back with a laugh, 'of course i did maxie.'
it was always about max, her life revolved around him, whether he liked it or not. she adored him and maybe he adored her a little bit more. they were childhood friends, they were inseparable since they were little babies, their mothers being friends made it even harder for the both of them to not be attached at the hip.
she loved being in his presence and he loved her.
the divorce between jos and sophie was hard on max, he blamed himself and his career but she was always there to tell him that it's not his fault. that their decision was their own and she never forgot to tell max that it wasn't his fault, no matter how much they told him that it was.
she saw the way jos had pushed max to his limits, get physical with his own son and his way of escaping that life was run to her arms, she was there tending to every bruise, every wound whether physical or emotional. she was his rock and it was final. nothing anyone could ever say or do would change his name.
"schatje," max had gently woken her up from her slumber, and she stirred awake from his soft voice, she noticed where she was and finally remembered what happened.
max had finished lower than expected and jos had thrown hurtful things about max, she was there on his mother's couch, comforting him and had fallen asleep that way, with max on her lap, "are you sleepy?"
she shook her head, not wanting to admit that yes, indeed she was sleepy, but if max needed comfort then that wasn't a big deal to her, "what's wrong maxie?"
"nothing, you can sleep on my bed if you're tired. i can sleep here," max had brushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear but she refused, she hated taking his bed because she knew how uncomfortable the couch was, she wanted him to sleep well.
but he wouldn't allow her to take the couch, so they both slept on sophie's couch almost cuddled with eachother because they were both stubborn.
max was necessarily content with how he was living his life right now, but she made it better and that's all he could ask for. was it her smile? maybe her presence? max didn't care. the first memory he could remember from his early childhood was her, and it was etched into his memory like stone.
she was content with being max's rock, she was there to keep him grounded and she too only had memories of him from her early childhood. she wouldn't replace him for the world, he was too precious for anything in this earthly world.
but there was one day, it felt like a bomb dropped on her. her father had told her that he would have to move to korea to continue work, and she didn't know how to break the news to max until a few days before she had to leave.
she knew it was wrong to keep something this big away from max, but she was so stricken with anxiety that she never got the chance to until max came over to her house and saw all the packed boxes with their belongings.
"why didn't you tell me sooner?" max was angry, she could tell, by the way he was pacing around her room, looking at the packed boxes around. max thought he meant more to her than just a measly friend, he felt frustrated— betrayed almost. why wouldn't she tell him? why would she keep something as big as this away from him?
"why didn't you say something before? why now? why before you could see me race this weekend?" max was raising his voice now, and she didn't know what to do. her eyes turned glassy and those doe eyes max loved so much just looked so sad.
she stayed quiet, a guilty look on her face. she knew max would break from the news, and she knew that it would affect his performance, but she didn't know how to stay, how to convince her father that she didn't want to go, so yet again, she stayed silent in important moments of her life.
"schatje, can you say something? say anything?!" max yelled and she flinches, she didn't know what to say or what to do, she wanted to say something, say anything. but nothing would come to her lips. it was so hard for her when he was angry like this, it reminded her of his father and his father was deathly scary when angry.
a sigh escapes max's lips when he sees her flinch, coming close to her to wrap her in a hug. tears escaped from her eyes as she held onto max tight, "i didn't know how to tell you," she whispers into max's ear but max didn't say anything to that, just held her even tighter and he did not want to let go.
"it's okay schatje, i'm not mad at you. i could never get mad at you, i'm sorry for raising my voice. i just don't want you to go," tears started to escape max's eyes too, he didn't want to see her go. he wanted her to stay, and she did too. but the universe was pulling them apart and there was nothing either of them could do about it.
the ride to the airport was tough, being only fifteen and sixteen respectively. max held her hand the entire time, not wanting to let go, he didn't want her to leave, she was his biggest support system and he couldn't imagine her gone like that.
she was the most scared of the two of them, what if her father never returned to belgium? what if she was stuck there in korea forever? what if she never got to see his pretty blue eyes anymore?
max was the one to ground her, no longer lost in her thoughts, "can you promise me we'll keep in touch? or maybe visit from time to time?" max was holding onto her hands tightly, she felt like they would bruise, she could only smile and nod.
her mother had called her over, it was time to go. she looked at max for what it felt like the last time and left her life in belgium.
dear schatje,
hi, this is the first week that you're gone and it's bene been so hard without you here with me. i forgot that you weren't here anymore and i was expecting to see your face, but when i didn't, i may or may not have almost cried.
i miss you so much. tell me how it is in korea, is it cold? do they have bears there? what about the food? is it good? can you eat it? i heard there's a lot of spiy spicy food there? honestly i don't care about what they have there, i just care about you.
when can you visit again? can you tell me if you're ever coming back? i'm so worried about you there, i miss you... so much schatje.
written with a lot of love, your maxie.
max always handed off his letters to his father, telling his father to hand it off to his mother because apparently they kept in contact and wanted to send it off to the post office on behalf of him.
he just wondered how she was doing there.
it's been months and countless of letters max had sent, and none of them replied. he was starting to lose hope, he didn't want to think that his best friend would forget about him so easily like that, but he held out hope. he knew that she wouldn't magically forget about him now that she was there.
jealousy bubbled within him when he realized that she would be meeting new people, what if she met someone like him? who enjoyed karting and wanted to steal her attention?
no, he couldn't be thinking like that. he loved her and he knew she loved him as much as he did, so he told himself to just be patient, maybe letters to korea took months to reach?
the naviety was almost laughable but he was fine with it. he just wanted to hear back from his pretty girl.
"i do not understand why you keep writing letters to that stupid girl, she doesn't reply to you and all it does is distract you," jos had reprimanded his son, but max was stubborn. he didn't care what his father had to say, he loved all of her, even when she was thousands of kilometers away. he wanted to talk, even when she never replied.
max was in the process of writing another letter, but he never listened to his father, not about her. not about how much of a distraction she's been to his career, he didn't care. he used it as motivation to get better on the track, so the next time she saw him, he would be a world champion, that's what he silently promised to her.
it had been two years, and he hadn't heard a peep back. slowly, he was starting to lose hope but he couldn't lose hope, every single time he would send off the letters, he told himself that maybe it got lost in the mail.
max kept writing though.
max's debut in f1 was explosive to say the least, his interviews would absolutely go viral by the things he was saying in them. he didn't understand why, he just said what was on his mind.
what was truly on his mind was her.
was he not good enough for her? was him being in f1 not enough to impress her? why wouldn't she write back?
oh god how he missed her.
he still wrote to her weekly, it was religious at this point. he never forgot and he always told his father to send them off to his mother and the week after that was always disappointment because he wouldn't hear anything back.
little did he know, she never received those letters.
max had slowly stopped writing letters as he got into f1, he didn't see a point in it anymore. she never replied. she didn't care. letters didn't take years to reach korea, and he finally lost hope.
winning his first championship felt empty, the pretty girl who used to be waiting for him wasn't there for him anymore. of course, he was happy to win such an impressive feat, who wouldn't? but it just... lacked her.
max indeed lost hope that she would ever write back, but never lost hope that she was out there, somewhere, watching him race every single week and beat the shit out of his rivals. she loved watching him race and that's what he intended to do until the day he died, he wanted to impress her, maybe that was his ulterior motive to becoming a formula one driver.
all just to impress his best friend who had lost contact with him for a decade now.
"you need to stop figdeting so much," her mother had scolded her, she could only laugh nervously and stop fidgeting around. she wondered why max never wrote back to her, she had written him letters. did he hate her for moving out to korea and not coming to visit belgium?
she shook the thoughts out of her head, she was here now. for his home race, and for the rest of her life. her father had now decided to move back to belgium, because and i quote, 'i don't want my daughter to lose touch with her culture'.
she was 26 now, and she had guessed that he turned 27 not too long ago. it's been so long since she talked to him and she hoped that the spark that she had been yearning for had not been lost to the passages of time.
getting the paddock passes was not easy, it was a war and a half but she managed to snag some for herself and a friend that wanted to visit belgium and would arrive later on in the week.
"how did you even manage to get paddock passes for us?" heejin, her friend that wanted to visit had asked, she could only laugh and explain how she got them, it was a war and a half. heejin laughed along with her as they both arrived and scanned their passes at the entrance.
"i'm gonna meet my best friend here— well it's complicated. i don't think he considers me a best friend anymore, but i still do," she had softly told heejin who was a big formula one fan even before meeting her, heejin raised her eyebrow when she said that.
the both of them were walking down the paddock, passing all of the different team's hospitalities. heejin raised her eyebrow at her friend, who shrugged.
"who's your best friend?" heejin had asked as they pass by the red bull hospitality, she stopped which signalled heejin to stop as well, she looked at the redbull in awe. she hadn't been to a formula one race yet, the closest she'd been was to karting but that didn't bring on the feelings she felt when standing in front of this red bull building.
"well, he's driving the number one car."
"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"
"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"
max had heard a girl yell, he slowly turned his head. he was confused, he didn't have a best friend— well not anymore. she had moved to korea, all memories of her stuck in his head being replayed all over and over again.
that's all he had left of her.
the other girl shushed the girl who yelled, and that's when it dawned on max. the other girl looked awfully familiar, he couldn't quite place why she looked so familiar but she looked like her, like his best friend.
"shh! you can't just yell that out in public," she clamped a hand on her friend's mouth, "they're gonna think i'm insane!" then the both of them giggled, it did sound ridiculous but now he was curious.
was she back? was that her? who was she with? is that her new best friend? is that her?
as they both walked away, max wanted to run up to them, to ask that one particular girl what her name was. what she was doing here and who she was with but all of that died when he got approached by his race engineer.
then he forgot all about that familiar girl that he saw in front of the red bull hospitality.
max would only get another glimpse of her when it was race day, they were walking through the paddock in a similar fashion, but max promised to himself that he would approach them, that he would ask but there was doubt in his heart.
what if she forgot about him?
she couldn't, right?
and so approach them he did, tapping the girl that he felt was so familiar to on the shoulder, she had turned around and they had locked eyes.
it was as if she never left.
the sparks, they all came rushing back and then his heart started beating out of his chest, he wanted to ask so many questions, why she was here, who she was with, when she came back— why she came back, why she never wrote him back.
but the only thing that left his lips were a simple, "hi."
heejin was freaking out, she could tell. she knew that heejin was a big red bull fan too, always talking about how the team was dominating and they had the better car. she had heard all about it. but the little dutchboy she left all those years ago was standing in front of her and not-so little anymore and all those thoughts about her girlfriend was forgotten.
he looked the same, but grown and decked out in red bull merch. she wanted to laugh at how innocent he looked when he tapped her on the shoulder to get her to turn around, he looked stupid, stupidly cute.
all of those feelings from when she was back in belgium came back, she almost forgot what it felt like to be around max— her max. he looked like he was going to cry when he got a good look at her, that he finally realized that yes, it's her. the one that left him in belgium all those years ago.
and maybe she could cry too.
"maxie?" a familiar nickname slipped from her lips and she didn't get a response back, but a bear hug in return.
god, her scent. it was everything to him. he fucking missed it— miss her.
"i thought... i thought you forgot about me," max buried his face into the crook of her neck, she too wrapped her arms around max and buried her face into his chest. his voice was so vulnerable, all she wanted to do was curl around him and tell him that she would never.
she shook her head as she sank into the hug, "i could never forget my maxie," she mumbled into his chest, he held onto her tighter. he never wanted to let go, not now, not ever. she was where she was finally supposed to be, right in his arms.
once they got time alone after his race, max had stolen her away from her friend and dragged her into his driver's room, locking the door and pushing her against the wall, slamming his lips onto hers. he had been dreaming about this for so long, his lips on hers.
he didn't want to so sexual with her, no not yet. being in the small driver's room where they couldn't be free out of the public eye wasn't a good place. he just wanted to touch her, hold her, love her, make sure that she knew how much he had missed this.
missed them being together.
her hands instinctively went up to hold onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he kissed her softly. the feelings going through him were a mix of nostalgia, longing and love. he loved her for so long and it was so like her to show up when it mattered the most.
he won it for her today, to show her, that the little max she knew still had it in him to win and to impress her even with a world championship under his belt.
she felt the softness and the gentleness that max was touching her with, she knew how much he loved her. how much he care, how much he longed for her touch and she did too, only so much more.
she had so many questions in her, on why he never replied to the letters she sent or why he never sent any himself, not knowing what happened with her letters and why they never arrived properly.
but she didn't care at the moment, all she cared about was that she was safely in his arms, never to be let go ever again.
safe to say, her lips were to the point of bruising that night. max had forbade her to go back home, or to be away from his sight. he had kissed her silly, not wanting to let her go and there she was, settled nicely in his arms.
it's not like she wanted to go anywhere anyway.
the movie in the background was long forgotten, max's lips felt like they were molded for hers. he had waited for her for so long, waited to feel her skin after so long and this just felt right, it felt right when he was with her.
"maxie— mmhh— my love, stop," she had to talk in between kisses, max didn't want to let her go, his fingers were basically imprinted onto her waist. she was straddling max as he sat upright and kissed her, so softly. like she would break if he was any harder, even though he absolutely did want to kiss her harder.
max released her from the kiss with a pout, his pretty lips were red and swollen from all the kissing they did. everything in the world just seemed to fade into the background when they were together, like everyone else in this world was so insignificant for their time and they were the only people worthy of each other's time.
"but why? i wanna kiss you, i miss you. i have waited for you for ten years, the least you can do is let me kiss you until you're sick of me," max mumbled against her lips and all she could do was giggle.
god, her laugh, he loved it.
she shook her head and left a final peck on his lips, "because i want to talk maxie, we can't just kiss whatever questions we have for eachother away," she told him but he seemed to think otherwise, she had moved back to put a bit of distance in between them, to make sure max didn't go in to kiss her again.
"oh yes we can, i don't care about the questions, schatje. i just wanna be with you, just like old days, but now it's so different because in those ten years without you, i finally realized what i felt and how i felt for you and i can't wait any damn longer to finally kiss those pretty lips of yours, so please. just let me do this for another three hours and we can talk," max begged as he pulled her closer.
she couldn't imagine kissing for another three hours as they spent the last hour doing it, but with him? she would do it for another life-time if she could.
the both of them later had the serious talk when they were done kissing each other, now wanting answers from eachother. their legs were tangled and intertwined with each other's, not wanting to let go from their skin to skin contact.
"first off, why did you never reply to my letters? i wrote you so many. so many that i lost count, i would always write to you but you never replied, why?" max's voice came out strained, all of the painful feelings from the last ten years of his life were coming out, her doe eyes looked up from where she was, laying against his chest.
"you wrote me letters? i wrote you letters, you never replied. i thought you got too busy with your karting career to reply—"
"i could never get too busy to reply to you, but i never got any of your letters, schatje," max murmured against her forehead, kissing it gently after he spoke. she hummed a response before it dawned on her, she had always sent the letters to his father's address and she knew that his father wasn't fond of her, even offering her a huge lump sum of cash just for her to stay away from his son but she never accepted it, always choosing to be beside max, no matter what happened.
she looked up and sighed, she knew what happened now, she connected the pieces, "did you send your letters off to your dad?" she asked, and max nodded before it dawned on him too.
"that fucker hid the letters from you and never sent mine..."
she could only nod sadly, but it didn't matter now. all that mattered was that they were reconnected now.
scattered around them were the countless of letters max had written to her and all of the letters from her that he never received, the years of pining, longing— all of them tucked neatly away into these little envelopes that held all of those unsaid feelings.
a soft sigh escapes her lips, she looked at all of them, there were hundreds maybe. all of them posted to where she stayed in korea but never sent, always kept in a big box where all of his letters were and hers were stuffed in there in a similar fashion.
her heart clenched when she saw how many there were, there were far more many than whatever she sent, even though she did send quite a big sum.
when max had found out, he stormed into jos' house and demanded to ask why he never sent out the letters that he wrote and a big fight broke out, she had to hold of max from physically harming his own father. then they left after given the big box filled with letters.
"there's so many..." she watched in awe as all of them were sorted by date, from the latest to the earliest, max looked up at her with those big blue icy eyes of his, he looked really sad. stuck in his feelings almost, not understand why his father would do whatever he did in the past.
max held her hand gently, pulling her into his embrace, "i have always loved you, even when i was a little kid. i just didn't understand what those feelings were, i just acted on how i felt and being away from you... i just couldn't. so i sent you my love in the form of these letters."
she left a lingering kiss on his cheek, she felt sorry for having to leave all those years ago. she should've fought, should've stood her ground on how much she wanted to stay but she was just a 16 year old kid who didn't know how to, "i know. i'm sorry i had to leave all those years ago."
"don't apologize, schatje. i have never blamed you for leaving me. i have always held love for you in my heart, even if you didn't know it."
"i always knew max, and i still do."
very willing to do a part 2 to this btw, will only do it when requested tho. not proofread, excuse grammar mistakes.
#leclarifies fics#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fic#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x yn#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen oneshot#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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You almost missed the meeting regarding the new exhibit. You had to validate a few showpieces. Books mostly this time. On one of them... what was it... runes... Red cover with rubies, one could think it was painted with blood itself.
Your own reflection in the stones was teasing you. This object was powerful, it was alluring, it was dangerous. You didn't notice how others left.
You were left with the book in the storage. Who created it and why? You were not new to artifacts of presumed witchcraft. But this... it was different. As if the blood on the cover was instantly flowing changing the shades.
Oh, it was one of those days. Time didn't matter.
"Fascinating, isn't it?"
"Oh yes, it is." You didn't even look up. "Have never seen anything like this."
"Oh, I did. A very long time ago. This book belonged to ruthless people."
"What?"
She was a foreigner in this brightly lit room. Nonchalantly sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs. When did she come in?
"We need to close the storage. All your colleagues left a few hours ago."
Hours? Really? What was she even talking about? You checked your phone. A few missed calls and messages.
Brunette was smiling at your confusion.
"Have we met before?"
"No, I'm instead of Jeff."
"What happened? I saw him yesterday."
"Oh..." Brunette was kinda lost for an instant. "He had to leave. You know. Another department. My name's Rio".
She stood up and very officially offered you her hand.
"Pleased to meet you. My name's..."
"I know everything about you."
Rio was still holding your hand. Maybe you did see her before. Those green eyes. They were mesmerising.
______
A few days passed. You didn't have time to examine the book, but you kept thinking about it. Weirdly your thoughts were coming back to it. In what circumstances something like this could be created? What was written there?
You wanted to feel that book again. Sharp edges and ancient pages.
From the book your mind wandered to the stranger. You asked your colleagues. They knew Jeff was gone, but who was instead of him - no idea. You wanted to see her again. you wanted to lose yourself in those gentle touches again.
___
A few more days. You were giving a lecture. Confident and charming you were in your element. Until you noticed those green eyes amongst the audience. Rio was catching your every move, your every word.
"You were amazing." Brunette caught you after the class. "Truly a master of your craft."
"Well, I do have a certain area of expertise."
"What a tease."
Oh, now you were definitely blushing.
"I haven't seen you at the museum." You tried to find a more safe subject.
"I was busy with other projects. I'm kinda like a consultant for confused people."
You nodded. Why was looking at you like this? As if expecting something, as if waiting for the answer.
"Well, you did find the time for the lecture."
"I found the time for the lecturer."
"I appreciate both the time and the effort."
"Yeah, you have no idea how determined I can be."
Rio winked at you. She was busy, she had to go. She chose to leave you with just a hint of satisfaction.
"Oh, and the book., It is waiting for you."
____
Rio was right. You had to concentrate on your work. Exhibit was approaching, your input was needed. You were spending more and more time with the remains of the old times. You were spending more and more time with that damned book. Those runes were not known to you. As the symbols. Looked like an interpretation of the maiden-mother-crone myth, but there was a green halo around them.
"You need coffee."
That wasn't a question. With Rio nothing was.
"Thanks." You took a sip "Oh, double espresso. How did you know?"
"Had a feeling, you like it... intense."
"Sure."
"So..." Rio nudged your shoulder to get all the attention she always required. "How is this thing going?"
"Good."
"And this?" She pointed at the book.
"Waiting for the answer from a few colleges."
"Well, I'm sure the answer is going to be fascination. But..." She took your phone and bag without asking. "you need to be someplace else."
___
Why did you even let her command? You just blinked and suddenly you were near an old theater.
"Magic show?"
Rio had tickets for the first row.
"What can I say? I was always fond of illusions."
It was noticeable. She was cheering even for the simplest tricks. She adored theatricality and tension. Except for maybe the tricks that involved cheating death. Yeah, Rio huffed in annoyance a few times.
"Well, this is not how I expected my evening to go."
Street was completely silent. You and Rio were the only ones who decided to enjoy the autumn night.
"I can tell you how all the tricks worked."
Oh, for sure Rio knew.
"It's your hobby?"
"Let's say, I've seen these shows quite a few times."
"That would destroy all the magic part of the performance, don't you think?"
Rio stopped, snapped her fingers and in the other hand a flower appeared.
"Oh, you're smooth." You laughed at the present. "So, you're into tricks."
"No, I'm more into magic."
______
It was a book of protective spells. It was supposed to save from evil and wrong, from hungry and desperate. And not protect, it was supposed to hide from the sight of darkness. Someone was supposed to be hidden in the blood of the killed. You spend hours trying to find the recipient of this protection.
"Well, that's an interesting observation." Rio put her legs on the table. You were having a dinner at your office. "Amazing."
"I'm glad you're happy with my research."
"I truly am. Do you know how those spells are supposed to be activated."
"I assume by the blood of the protected."
"Yeah, guess it could work." Rio shrugged. "Witches were never that imaginative."
It became some kind of a routine. At the beginning you didn't see Rio at all. But now she was always near. With lunches, coffees, books and affection. And whatever she was calling magic.
Rarely you could feel comfortable with someone so close. For years you preferred to be on your own. It just never clicked with anyone. But Rio... she knew you. Your tastes, your dreams, your desires. Her affection was a given, just a fact that you stumbled into. It was a weird feeling. Like you were continuing to live something you never had.
____
"I don't think you're doing it right."
You could feel Rio was close. Her hair was almost tickling your neck. There was no need for her to stay right behind you. But it apparently was the best spot to watch you translating the text.
"You're being a little distractive, Rio."
"How? I'm helping. This sign here. It clearly doesn't mean death."
"Well, that's a woman with a skull instead of a face."
"I'd say she's more about the natural order of things.'
"Maybe."
___
You were working more, you were sleeping less. You were distracted. Your dreams changed, in them you could freely read the spells. Voices without purpose were helping you. Sometimes even Rio couldn't have you all for herself.
"I brought you something."
"Huh?"
Rio was holding a dagger. Black stones, same runes.
"Just don't play with it often."
"Where did you get this?"
"It was here all the time. Kinda lost in the mess."
"Yeah."
You didn't care whether she was lying or not. Was it the other part of the story? Was it the threat or help?
You took it. Heavy with cold and sharp with pain it fit your hand properly.
"Every witch was supposed to have such a dagger." Rio took the knife. "Usually it was carved with the symbols of a greater entity, You know for protection."
She was holding your hand, caressing the palm with the cold of a steel. Still dangerous, still deadly. You didn't dare to look at her movements.
"And what entity protected this blade?"
"I think you know. You read the spells."
You could feel your skin almost succumbing to the blade. But it was so much more unbearable to have Rio so close. She was the perfection itself. You didn't care about the blade, you leaned into her.
"Fuck." you muttered under your breath. But it was too late. Your blood was spilled.
You were her prey, Rio pushed and you and the blade cut deeper, but you didn't care. She was kissing you, she was hurting you.
Dagger fell on the floor. Without breaking the kiss Rio guided your hands to the support of the table. Your wound touched the book.
Suddenly the pain shot through your whole body. You wanted to scream, but Rio didn't let you. Holding you, making you feel her passion, brunette was only deepening the kiss.
You opened your eyes. The room was on fire. Games of the primal flame were everywhere. Everything was melting away. Instead another reality was forming.
You groaned into the kiss. It was familiar. It took all the strength you had to push Rio away. She was breathing heavily.
"What the..." you looked at your palm. It was healed. "What... what happened..."
Those voices were right. Rio. It was all because of Rio.
"It was the only way..."
Her voice was trembling. You heard this already. Her plea, her apology.
"I know you." You took the book from the table. Now those spells made sense. "Rio Vidal."
"I thought... " She was choking on her regret and doubt. "I thought I wouldn't be able to find you."
"I remember..."
Rio gently touched your cheek. You didn't feel it. Suddenly there was a wall with the thickness of centuries.
"My love..."
"It was always you, wasn't it?" Your fingers were tingling. "You were always the reason."
"I don't..."
"They died because of you."
"What? No."
You grabbed her wrist. You were strong, stronger than you remembered. Purple magic was pouring from your veins. It didn't let Rio move.
"Because of you all those people were dead. You attacked innocents."
"No."
"My coven tried to hunt you. And in return you destroyed others."
'"No, no, no. These are not your memories. It's an illusion your coven gave you."
You pushed her. Rio was the plague. You remembered it. Your sisters warned you.
"I will banish you from here."
Rio didn't even think about defending herself. She needed to let you be closer.
You grabbed her by the throat. Rio only obeyed. You needed to cut out her black heart.
You waved and the dagger appeared in your hand. You were calling for your weapon. It returned to the magic that created it. But the second you were ready to swing, it burned you.
You were holding the same knife Rio gave you. It wasn't possible. Your enemy was protecting you.
"No. It's not true..."
Yes, you didn't remember. But what if... you were holding a piece of your old life. Rio was in every cell of your body. How long were you like this? How long were you far from her? You were still washed over by hate. But not because of Rio. No, you couldn't hurt her.
"I can help you..."
You shook your head in disbelief and disappeared in purple smoke.
_____
You didn't know where to go. The life you remembered wasn't yours, just as a life you were living for the last who knew how many years.
Your sisters betrayed you, they were not the only ones. Such strong magic required the assistance of the sorcerer supreme.
It doesn't matter what you were thinking about, you always were coming back to Rio. She saved you, she broke the spell. But if she was the one lying. What if she forged the blade? No, no, not possible. Not your Rio. Your Rio? What these weeks meant for you? Were you in love?
Not only your head, your blood was boiling with magic. You forgot this feeling. You were trying to control the shaking in your hands but it was just getting worse.
"Rio." you whispered.
"Yes, my love."
She appeared in front of you. Her crown was glowing in the dark. No point in playing pretend anymore.
"This blade belongs to me."
Rio nodded.
"You're the entity that is protecting me."
Nod again.
"What happened?"
"They wanted to separate us. They were afraid that you would have special treatment. And with that become too powerful for them to handle."
"Special treatment?"
"Yes." Rio hesitated. "You were the only one who could have my... favor."
"I don't understand."
"You could be invincible. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You were one of the more powerful wielders of magic. And that was a dangerous combination. So they hid you. Sealed you in the book. It took me centuries to find you."
Your heart was aching. If it was true, your life was taken by those whom you considered family.
"And we..." You blinked away a memory. "Did we ever have a garden?"
"Oh, yes." Rio dared to come closer. "I created a pocket dimension for us. Just us. We could do whatever we wanted."
"I also remember that Rio is not your only name."
She was dreading this moment. For her only hope was left. But for you it was finally the beginning. Not the memories, but affection was guiding you. All those memories of Rio's betrayal. You had to trust your heart. Hate wasn't yours, it wasn't real.
Yes, it was the truth. It was always Rio. The only thing you wanted was for her to be your reason for existence. And it only could be explained with memories that you couldn't fathom.
You were gravitating towards her. It was easier for you to believe in the ghost of ancient love than lose Rio. Your Rio.
"No, it's not."
For the first time Rio wasn't looking you in the eyes. You had to lift her chin. She was barely breathing, she was barely even functioning, waiting for your sentence. Regal entity reduced to a mortal.
"I'm in love with Rio, but Lady Death..." You pulled her into a kiss. This time your powers entwined with the glow being almost unbearable to be around. "...is a part of me."
"I will help you remember. I will help you return everything they've stolen from you."
"Oh yes." You smiled into her skin. "Right after I punish those who separated us."
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Prettier Than a Star (pt2) .𖥔 ݁ ˖
rafe cameron x f!reader
summary: after you and rafe hooked up, he couldn’t stop thinking about you… good thing you couldn’t get him out of your mind either.
warnings: smut. fluff. rafe is a sweetheart & lowkey whipped for reader. possessive!rafe. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), vaginal fingering. use of pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart). praise. best friend’s brother. one mention of y/n. [3k]
read part one here!
Rafe had spent the past few days thinking about you. He couldn’t get you out of his head, couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked, the way you felt, the way you sounded. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, every time he touched his skin, he felt your hands.
But it wasn’t just lust. He tried to ignore it, tried to tell himself that it was just a fling, that it was nothing more than physical, but there was something about you that he just couldn’t get out of his head, that he couldn’t shake off.
He had tried to stay away, to put some distance between you, but he couldn’t get you out of his mind. You were like a drug: addictive, intoxicating, all-consuming — and he needed another hit. He tried to distract himself, tried to keep himself busy, but it was no use. You were under his skin, invading his thoughts, making him feel things he didn't even know he could feel. He had never felt this way about anyone before, a need so intense it was like you were a narcotic.
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Sarah asked her brother as she entered the kitchen, heading towards the fridge to grab a cold bottle of water.
Her voice startled Rafe, the boy looking up from his laptop with wide eyes. He relaxed after seeing who it was, scowling and moving his attention back to the bright screen in front of him.
“Nothin’,” he muttered gruffly, but the tension in his body betrayed him, his jaw tight.
He didn't want to talk, didn't want to explain why he was in such a bad mood, because she still didn’t know about what had happened between the both of you. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to appear indifferent, but he couldn't hide his irritability.
Sarah knew not to push Rafe’s buttons, knowing she could be on the receiving end if he snapped, but she also knew him well enough to know that ‘nothing’ was almost always something. She simply hummed in response, taking a sip of her water and looking at him over the bottle.
Rafe shot his sister a glare, his irritation growing. "I'm not in the mood for your bullshit."
Before Sarah could reply, his phone buzzed. Glancing down at the device, his finger hovered over the new message.
𝙉𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝘽𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙚𝙣?
Rafe’s eyes widened once again, though this time it was in surprise. He hadn’t expected to hear from you, let alone receive a message asking to meet up. He clicked on the notification, thumbs tapping away at the screen as he quickly wrote out a reply and sent it.
Shutting his laptop – and not bothering to turn it off – he stood from his place at the kitchen island and put his phone in the front pocket of his jeans.
Rafe's reaction to the text message did not go unnoticed by Sarah, she couldn't help but feel intrigued, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. "Who was that?"
“None of your business,” he said, tone somewhat harsh. However, he knew that was a lie. With you being her best friend, Sarah had every right to know… but he couldn’t tell her.
Your hands shook as you typed out the message. You hadn’t stopped thinking about Rafe since his party: the way he looked, the way he felt, the way he sounded… You knew you shouldn’t be feeling the way you did, but you couldn’t help it — and that only added to the guilt you felt.
Your heart raced as you awaited his response. You couldn't shake the feeling that clawed at hour stomach, couldn't ignore the little voice in your head telling you that what you was doing was wrong. The guilt you felt when you thought about Sarah, his sister, your best friend, only made everything worse. You knew that you were crossing a line that you shouldn’t, that you were betraying her, but you couldn’t help it.
You felt something for him, and you needed to know if it was reciprocated.
A few moments went by without any word from him, and you began to regret sending the message. Just as you went to delete it, your phone dinged — a new message. You picked it up, seeing Rafe’s name on your screen with his response below it.
𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣.
When you read his reply, a flutter of excitement washed over you, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. You put your phone down and took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You knew you should be feeling penitent, but all you could feel was excitement at the prospect of seeing him again.
Ten minutes felt like ten hours as you waited anxiously, tapping your fingers against your thigh out of habit. You didn’t know what to expect, what to say, how to act, but you knew that you needed to see him, needed to talk to him.
About fifteen minutes went by before you heard a knock at your door, your heart leaping into your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and stood up slowly. Every step you took towards the door felt like an eternity, your legs feeling weak, your knees like jelly. You reached for the handle, taking a deep breath before opening the door.
You could feel the tension in the air, the electricity between you. For a moment, neither of you said anything, you just stood there, looking at each other. Finally, he spoke up, breaking the silence.
"Hey.” His voice was low and rough, though simultaneously soft and affectionate.
"Hi," you replied, doing your best to keep your voice steady. "Come in."
Rafe gave you a small smile as he stepped through the doorway, his body moving with confident grace. You closed the door behind him, feeling his presence fill the small space, consuming you completely.
He stood there with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders relaxed, expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything, just watched you with an intensity that made your heart race.
You lead him up to your bedroom, not wanting a million and one questions if your parents ended up coming back whilst he was at yours. As soon as you walked through the door, he closed it behind him, almost trapping you in with him. The space suddenly felt small and intimate, filled with the tension that crackled between you.
You walked over to sit on your bed, watching him glance around your bedroom. It was the first time a boy had ever seen your room, and you were somehow comfortable with it, despite knowing your parents would freak out.
Rafe took in every detail of your room: the soft, floral-patterned duvet on the bed, the fluffy pillows, the framed photos of you and your family… He couldn’t explain the feeling in his chest as he looked around, a strange mixture of possessiveness and belonging.
“It’s very you,” he said as he turned around, his gaze finally landing on you, sitting on the bed, your legs crossed in front of you. A small smile found home on his lips as he spoke, and you blushed a little at his words, his observation.
"You think so?" you asked, your voice soft as your eyes met his. You couldn’t help but return the gesture, a gentle smile of your own curving your lips. Rafe nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep himself from reaching out and touching you.
He walked over to you, sitting down on the side of the bed, in front of you. He took a deep breath before he spoke. "Why’d you ask me to come over?"
The question he ask brought back the nervousness you were feeling earlier, and you hesitated for a moment before responding. "I… I needed to talk to you," you said, your voice quiet but steady.
“So talk.”
You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. You’d wanted to talk to him, but now that he was here, sitting in front of you, waiting for you to say something, you felt a little unsure of yourself.
“I think…” you began, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You took another deep breath before your rambling started. “I think I like you. Well, I’m pretty sure I do, but I’m scared because I overthink a lot. I can’t stop thinking about how I’m basically betraying Sarah and if you didn’t feel the same way, I could ruin two friendships that I really cherish all because I-”
Before you could continue, you felt his lips on yours, cutting off your endless string of words.
Rafe had watched as you rambled, his expression softening ever so slightly. He had expected a lot of things when you asked him to come over, but admitting to liking him hadn’t been one of them.
The moment his lips touched yours, all your thoughts vanished, replaced by the intense sensations flooding through you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, all you could do was feel. His palms were against your cheek, his thumbs gently stroking your jaw, whilst your hands found their place on his wrists.
He pulled away just enough to speak, his voice a rough whisper. “You need to stop talking, babe.” The nickname, coupled with his gravelly voice and intense gaze, sent a shiver of pleasure through your body. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the party.”
His eyes were full of affection as he looked at you, a gentle smile on his face that held nothing but adoration. He ran his fingers along your jawline, tracing your features like they were delicate, something to be treasured.
“Really?” you asked, voice but a whisper and laced with surprise and curiosity.
Rafe slowly dragged his thumb over your lower lip, his touch gentle. “You’ve got no idea what you’ve been doing to me,” he said, voice softer than you had ever heard it. “Can’t think straight when I’m around you. Can’t concentrate on anything else but you.”
Your made him feel strangely vulnerable, a feeling he wasn't used to, but at the same time, he found that he didn't mind it that much. He was so used to being used, being treated like a prize to be won or an accessory to be flaunted. But now, with you, he found that he actually wanted more than just a meaningless fling.bHe didn't know how to handle these new feelings, but one thing was sure — he wasn't going to mess it up.
You suddenly leaned down and captured his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You didn’t verbally agree on what this meant for you both, but you didn’t need to. You deserved so much more than someone like him, but he wanted you, and he didn't want to let you go.
Rafe Cameron wanted to be selfish — an action he was used to.
He moaned against your mouth, one of his hands leaving your face and moving down to your waist, gently squeezing. His body twisted round slightly, his front now facing you as he leaned closer to you and deepening the kiss.
The sound of his moan sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a sense of pride that you could make him feel something. His hand on your waist was firm, almost possessive as he squeezed, the heat of his body seeping through your clothes.
His tongue ran along your lower lip, silently asking for access, and you parted your lips for him, allowing him to explore your mouth. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, and you soon found yourself with your head on your pillow, Rafe hovering above you.
Rafe groaned against your lips as your leg brushed against his hardening cock, the feeling sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you, his voice low and guttural as he spoke. "You feel that? You feel what you do to me?"
Rafe’s lips trailed down over your jawline, down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and small love bites as he went. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, breath hot against her skin. “And I’d tell you every day… if you’ll have me.”
You nodded, filled with emotion at his sweet way of asking. “Every day sounds good to me.” Placing your hands against his cheeks and bringing his face back to yours, you captured his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You let out a soft moan against Rafe’s lips.
He loved the sounds that escaped your lips and the way you arched into his touch. It fueled his desire for you even more, knowing that he was the one making you feel this way.
He kisses across your cheek before he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips trailing kisses down your sensitive flesh, his free hand roaming down your body. You giggled as he did so, bringing your hands up to rest on his back. "That tickles!"
He continued his assault on your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses and love bites across your sensitive skin. A low, gravelly chuckle vibrated from his throat as he heard you giggle, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah?" he murmured, his rough, deep voice low in your ear as his lips moved to another sensitive spot, his tongue darting out to tease your skin.
Your giggles turned into a soft moan, your eyes closing as you relished in the pleasure Rafe was giving you. He licked and sucked on you skin, leaving his mark on your neck — letting every one know who you belong to: Rafe Cameron.
Rafe lowered his hand from your waist, his fingers working deftly against the buttons of your shirts before his hand reached in. You moaned as his thumb came into contact with your puffy clit, biting your lip as your head tilted back.
Rafe moved away from your neck, eyes flickering down your lips. “Nuh uh, Sweetheart. Wanna hear you.” You let your lip go, letting it bounce softly back into place. “Good girl.”
Your eyes rolled back when you felt two of his fingers enter you, stretching you out. You were so wet, they slid in easily, not a sting of pain in sight. “Fuck!” you moaned when he curled them, his fingertips rubbing against that spot inside you.
Rafe suddenly reached up and cupped your face in one hand, his thumb stroking gently over your cheek, "Look at me,” he ordered, though his voice held no bitterness. You did as was told, looking up into his blue eyes whilst yours watered in pleasured. “That’s it, baby. Feel good?”
“So good,” you whispered, hand squeezing his bicep.
Rafe’s movements suddenly stopped and you whined in disappointment. “When I ask you a question, I expect to hear the answer.”
“Feels so good, Rafe,” you spoke louder, a moan quickly following as he started fucking you with his fingers. “So fucking good…”
“You belong to me,” Rafe mumbled, seemingly to himself despite also talking to you. He wasn't used to ever being possessive, especially over a person, but the thought of you belonging to anyone else pissed him off. “Say it. Say you belong to me.”
“I belong to you, Rafe,” you cried out, looking up at the man above you and his fingers moved faster. “I’m yours.”
“Damn fucking right you are.”
Rafe suddenly removed his fingers and got off your bed to unbuckle his belt. The clanging caught your attention, and your mouth watered as you watched him pull it from the loops of his jeans — which were next to leave, his shirt following after.
He crawled back over you, claiming your mouth with his as he kissed you deeply. His hand moved to your bottoms, hooking his fingers on the edge and pulling both your shorts and underwear down at the same time. He pressed his forehead to yours. “You want this?”
“So badly,” you begged, nodding against him. Your hands came back up to his back — touching the bare skin this time. “Please, baby.”
"Yeah?” Rafe placed his hands on your stomach, pushing your top up as his hands went higher. He cupped your tits, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You nodded again, reaching a hand down to stroke his cock, thumb rubbing over the head to collect the pre-cum. His eyes fluttered closed, a moan leaving him. “Fuck.”
He gently slapped your hand away, replacing it with his own and guiding himself to your entrance. Your eyes rolled back when he pushed forward, sinking into your warmth. Your nails dug into his biceps as he pulled back, only to thrust back into you.
“Damn," he groaned. "You feel so good, baby. So damn good.” He rested his forehead on yours again, watching himself disappear into you with every movement of his hips, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he felt you, all of you.
One of his hands moved to your throat, adding just enough pressure — the way you like. “Just like that,” you moaned, your legs wrapped around his waist so he could go deeper, ankles crossed at his lower back.
Rafe wanted to see your face while he was inside you, wanted to see the look on your face as he made you feel nothing but pleasure. He used the hand around your throat to nudge your chin upwards, you getting the hint. You did as he wanted, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He groaned as he looked at your face, his eyes roaming over your features, taking in every little expression, every little sound that escaped your lips.
His face was buried in the crook of your neck, his hips speeding up, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He suddenly pressed his lips to your neck as he mumbled against your skin, "God, I can't get enough of you."
He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, the sensations mounting as he continued to move with you, his force gradually increasing. He nipped at your skin, his teeth sinking in just enough to leave a small mark. He wanted to claim you, to mark you as his, to leave a physical reminder that you belonged to him.
"Need you to fill me up," you moaned, pleading with him. It was a need, not a want. She loved feeling him cum inside her last time, and she didn’t know how she went so long without it. "Please."
His breath caught in his throat as he heard your words, his body reacting immediately. He pinned you down onto the bed, his voice low and guttural, "You want that?"
"Need it," you cried, tears welling in your eyes from the pleasure Rafe was giving you. He could sense you were on the edge, and he knew exactly what you needed, what you craved.
He started moving faster, his hips snapping against the backs of your thighs in a firm, steady rhythm. He was so close to the edge, he just needed to hear you say it one more time...
"You're mine, baby. Say it."
"I'm yours, Rafe," you clung onto him, letting out a loud moan as his thumb found your clit again — the little bundle of nerves swollen and begging for attention. “All yours.”
He felt a primal satisfaction surge through him as he listened to you speak, and his thrusts got faster, less controlled. Your legs started to shake, so close to the edge, and your fingernails dug into the skin of his back, scratching down it once again and leaving bright red marks in their wake.
"You're mine," he grunted against your skin. "All mine. All. Mine."
"Yes, yes, yes!"
A loud moan ripped through your throat as you came undone around him, head thrown back against your pillow and eyes squeezed closed.
Rafe felt you squeeze him, the sensations sending him over the edge. He let out a guttural groan as he came, pushing himself as deep as he could go and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he shuddered. He couldn't speak for a few moments, his body going boneless as he collapsed on top of you, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. He was completely shaken, his body quivering from the force of his orgasm.
He lay like that for a moment, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to catch his breath. He eventually spoke, his voice low and gravelly, "Damn, baby. That was..."
"Incredible."
The two of you basked in each other’s arms, both trying to catch your breath and sweat dripping down your bodies. You were feeling relaxed, content in Rafe’s arms… until you heard the front door open.
“Y/N, we’re back!”
#agxxb#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe obx#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x you#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey smut#obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx x reader#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks smut#outer banks x reader#outer banks fanfic
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For the first time since they saved the world, since Steve carried Eddie out of hell, and their bat bites had healed, Eddie was finally hanging out with Steve without impending doom hanging over their heads. Robin was also there as she didn't want to miss Steve cooking, and Eddie didn't blame her.
"Holy fucking shit!" Eddie yelled, slamming down his fork. "Fucking marry me."
Steve blinked at him, blushing, and his mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and smiled.
"Okay!"
"Oh! I'll go get the book!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands as she ran off.
"Book?" Eddie asked. "What? What's going on?"
Robin soon came back with a large white binder with a lock on it. She slammed it on the table and pulled out a key from under her shirt, unlocking it.
"This is Steve’s wedding book. As his best man, I hold the key," Robin said.
"Wait, hold on, that wasn't a real - ," Eddie started to say.
"Ooh, some of these were definitely written before me. That's definitely Baby Steve’s handwriting. . . Ooh, I can just imagine little Stevie putting a white sheet over his perfect hair," Robin said. "So, Spring, Fall, Summer, or Winter?"
"I was thinking Fall-ish," Steve said. "Near the end of August, maybe in September. Not too cold, not too hot."
Robin closed her eyes and held a pen in the air. Where did the pen come from?
"August 30th! I feel it! Perfect day!" Robin exclaimed.
"Wait, just a goddamn minute! What are you doing?!" Eddie shrieked.
"Planning your wedding to Steve, duh," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, Steve, are you sure about the groom?"
"Yeah," Steve said, grinning. "He's funny, very cute, and good with kids. Yeah, I'll take him."
"You like men?!" Eddie asked.
"Duh, babe, keep up. He's already told you this," Robin said.
"Fucking when?!" Eddie asked.
"In the hospital," Steve replied.
"When I was on painkillers?!" He asked.
"You still want Dustin to be the flower girl?" Robin asked Eddie.
"Oh, shit, that actually would be hilarious- no, nope, no way! This isn't happening!" Eddie yelled.
"Did you ask Steve to marry you?" Robin asked.
"Well, yes, but - "
"Did he say yes?"
"Again, yes, however - "
"Then you're engaged. Congratulations," Robin said.
"Ooh, we have enough money in the budget for weddings 2, 5, and 8!" Steve explained, looking over her shoulder.
"When I said that Steve should marry me, I wasn't -," Eddie said.
"Can you think of a reason why you shouldn't marry Steve?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't even know if I like men! I like women!" Eddie shrieked, running his hands over his face.
"You said something different in the hospital," Steve said.
"You mean, when I was on painkillers?!" He asked. "You're fucking with me. You guys are fucking with me."
"Babe, you seem stressed out by all this wedding planning," Steve said, taking his hand.
"I am VERY stressed out," Eddie said.
"Just let me and Robin handle it. I have been planning my wedding since I was like five, and trust me, I have never been a fan of big weddings, so it's going to be low-key and tasteful," Steve said, squeezing his hand.
"This is illegal," Eddie said weakly and in disbelief.
"Yeah, like none of us have ever done anything illegal," Steve rolled his eyes. "A marriage is more than just a piece of paper. Besides, I don't want the government at my wedding anyway."
"Fuck, yeah, me neither," Eddie said, shaking his head. "This is crazy!"
"Look, Eddie, I know this is sudden, and I know how scary it is to deal with all of this as well as speed running through a sexuality crisis. It's been a couple of months, but there were days where I sat by your bedside, hoping you would wake up, and when you did, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you every morning," Steve said softly, rubbing his thumb. "I want to hear every single rant, even the ones where you're being as asshole. I love you, and if you really don't want to do this, then I'll back down."
Eddie looked into Steve’s hazel eyes, swallowing thickly as he imagined being married to him and waking up with him every day. He already knew that Steve could handle how chaotic he could be, how much he loved the kids despite his loud protests, and he remembered all the talks about their asshole fathers who basically abandoned them. Eddie remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing Steve’s relieved red rimmed eyes. He knew without a doubt that Steve was a partner that he could depend on.
"Okay! I've decided that I'm just going to let this happen!" Eddie said, throwing up his hand. "But I can't be domesticated! I refuse!"
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Steve grinned.
"Also, during one of the dances, we're playing Metallica!" He yelled.
"Done!"
Steve leaned over the table and kissed Eddie, who didn't waste a second kissing him back. Yeah, he liked it, and he wasn't ever going to kiss anyone else. On some level, he had known that as soon as he had slammed Steve against the wall of that boathouse.
"Oh my God! I'm marrying Steve Harrington!"
TWO DAYS LATER. . .
Eddie was sprawled out on the couch in his brand new living room when Wayne came in, back from his fishing trip. Eddie frowned as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.
"So, how'd the dinner with Steve go?" Wayne asked.
"Well, the food was so good that I asked Steve to marry me, and he said yes," Eddie said. "It's on August 30th, save the date."
"You're hilarious, son," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You should be a comedian."
Suddenly, Steve burst out of the kitchen, looking flustered.
"Okay, I decided to be the bigger person here. I'm going to invite my parents to the wedding," Steve said. "If they don't come, they don't come. Hopper's already agreed to walk me down the aisle. Oh, hey, Wayne. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to cook for my fiancé and my future father in law. How was the fishing trip?"
Wayne stared at him, blinking at Steve and then at Eddie. Wayne sighed, shaking his head.
"Not a goddamn bite. Waste of a trip," Wayne said.
"Damn," Steve said and looked at the kitchen. "I have to check on the food. Sorry. I want to hear more about it!"
"Smells good, son!" Wayne yelled and plopped down on the couch next to Eddie.
"You accepted that pretty quickly," Eddie said.
"You can't do better than Steve. He went to hell and back for you. He never left your side. . .he loves you, and I can't ask for a better partner for my boy. . .speaking of why aren't you in there helping your fella?" Wayne asked.
"He kicked me out," Eddie pouted.
"You almost took my head off with a skillet!" Steve exclaimed.
"I nearly took him out, and he still wants to be with me," Eddie sighed happily and tucked his head into Wayne's shoulder. "By the way, when you walk me down the aisle, you can't let me fall, you know how I am."
"I would never let you fall."
Eddie smiled. Despite everything that happened, that's still happening. . .Eddie was happy, and he was getting married to the most wonderful guy in the entire world. Suddenly, Eddie sat up.
"Oh, no," Eddie said.
"What?"
"We told Dustin and the kids, but I didn't think to tell Ronnie," Eddie gasped.
"You mean, your best friend since you were eight?" Wayne asked.
"Yeah, I am in deep - "
Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Ronnie Ecker stood there in all her long-legged glory.
"You're getting married to Steve Harrington?!" She asked. "And I had to hear about it from a 12 year old?!"
"He's 14, actually," Eddie said casually. "How was the trip from New York?"
Eddie suddenly remembered the thing Robin had reminded him to do: don't forget to tell your platonic soulmate.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#bi4bi#idiot4idiot#dingus4dingus#bi as hell bi the way#robin buckley#lesbian robin buckley#robin & steve#platonic stobin#platonic with a capital p#platonic soulmates#wayne munson#half crack half serious#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes#rueleigh's thoughts
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He was also going to miss you desperately. The honeymoon stage was still going strong, and quitting you cold turkey right now was going to be rough. There wasn't a moment when you and he were together that you weren't touching each other.
That man had an addiction 🤭
"I'm going to have to wear all of my honeymoon goodies for my own entertainment for months," you whispered, tits spilling out of the lace as you arched your back. "No, no, no," he scolded softly, tossing his shirt aside and unzipping his jeans. "Don't be a tease, Baby."
He is begging
"I'm always thinking about you." Your words were an ego boost.
She just knows what her husband needs
You stopped taking birth control a few weeks ago. The two of you decided to go with the flow and see what happens next. It felt nice to keep that kind of pressure out of the bedroom, especially when Bradley knew he'd be just as content with six kids or none. It's not like he needed anything besides you, and he told you that every single day.
No risk no fun lol
I also missread it at first as "Bradley was content with six kids or MORE" hahah 😅
You eased yourself up and stood next to him, assessing the blankets and his open duffle sitting on the floor against the wall. "What if I told you this was all just a ploy to keep you here with me instead of getting you ready to leave?" "Then I would say I love you."
That's a ploy he would gladly fall for
Instead, you did the best you could to make it home to your computer where you could type paragraph after paragraph to him, letting him know what was going on back in California. You sent him a plethora of photos, some of which didn't include your face as a precaution. You even went into detail about how much you missed him at bedtime. And the best part was, you got just as much, if not more, in return. His days were largely repetitious, but there was always something new he was telling you about. His gym selfies never disappointed, and neither did the paragraphs where he told you in an abundance of detail how much he missed waking up next to you.
They just are a true match
Your students had been anticipating it for weeks, and you had some eager faces looking back at you on the Monday morning when you stood at the front of your classroom and said, "We're about to embark on a flight that will take us through our math, science and language arts classes for weeks to come. As we learn all about aviation, we'll be writing to a naval aviator on an aircraft carrier, and we'll even get to visit a local naval base for a field trip. Let's start out by learning the definitions of a few words that we'll be using frequently."
I feel like the aviation part of the curriculum is gonna become legendary really quick, the next year you can already hear the new fourth graders excitingly talk at recess or breaks: "I'm in Mrs Bradshaws class and my older sister told me around this last year they started with aviation. And a real aviator visited them! And a super cool mechanic!!" And another one adds, having heard the conversation topic from the younger students before then in the bus line: "It's all true! And you get to visit the base. And Mrs wasn't always called Mrs Bradshaw, she had a different name but she married the aviator we wrote letters!" And another one joins in: "And if you go to the library events Mr Marty is always there. He is also in the Navy and he is the best Mechanic that's what Mrs Bradshaws husband said. He is the best at fixing planes!"
It's just gonna turn in this whole legendary thing with more and more outlandish added stories after a few years hahga
He considered skipping dinner in favor of collapsing in his bunk, but he could tell he was already losing weight. You weren't around to keep him well fed, so when his stomach started to rumble, he made a point to head for the noisy mess hall.
Give that poor man some good food!
When he went to the small window in front of the mail center and gave his name, a box was thrust into his hands. Bradley's heart leapt when he saw the return address was from Mira Mesa Elementary School. He should have been expecting this, but he was suddenly happy you kept it as a surprise. A smile curled along his lips.
What a great surprise 🥰🥹
To MY US Naval Aviator (Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw)
Oh I love them and I will miss these two 🥰
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 29 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: While Bradley thought it was unfair of the Navy to mess with him while he was still in his honeymoon phase, he certainly did love getting mail from you.
Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, Bradley being husband material, 18+
Length: 1700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
That autumn....
As soon as you led Bradley inside after he drove the two of you home from Salvatore's, you ran your fingers along his cheek and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "You had a lunch picnic with Thai food on the beach. And then you got pasta for dinner. Do you have any other requests?" you asked, using your strict classroom voice which made Bradley's mouth water.
"I do, actually," he whispered, melting into your touch. "How about some of that lingerie you picked out in Paris?"
The honeymoon was almost three months ago, but not an hour went by where Bradley didn't reminisce about the days he got to enjoy the view of the Eiffel Tower and the view of your ass while he fucked you. It always left him with a smile on his face. But his smile started to falter when he remembered that he was shipping out tomorrow, and he wouldn't return until after the New Year. At least he would be allowed to communicate with you this time. That was the only thing saving him from almost certain despair.
"I think that can be arranged," you told him with a smile, unbuttoning your top as he stumbled along after you. "But you have to wait out here until I'm ready."
Bradley groaned and leaned on the wall in the hallway, watching you bounce along to the bedroom without him while you laughed. He didn't mind waiting a few minutes, because he was going to love whatever you were about to do. He was also going to miss you desperately. The honeymoon stage was still going strong, and quitting you cold turkey right now was going to be rough. There wasn't a moment when you and he were together that you weren't touching each other.
He hadn't even finished packing his duffle yet, because he didn't want this to feel real. He was planning on doing that tonight with your help, kissing you as you folded up his shirts and lined up his socks on the bed. But that was going to have to wait a few minutes. You opened the door to reveal the sheer nightie hugging your body as you pressed your thighs together and bit your lip.
Bradley was pushing away from the wall, heading right for you. "Gorgeous," he murmured, pulling you against him and walking you backwards to the bed. "Baby, I'm going to miss this too much."
His heart was pounding in his ears, hands full of your lace covered ass before you dropped to the bed on your back. "I'm going to have to wear all of my honeymoon goodies for my own entertainment for months," you whispered, tits spilling out of the lace as you arched your back.
"No, no, no," he scolded softly, tossing his shirt aside and unzipping his jeans. "Don't be a tease, Baby." You grinned as you turned your head to the side, and Bradley stepped out of his remaining clothing before he climbed in bed. He was hovering above you, lips pressed to your ear as he whispered, "You'll wear the goodies for me, too. And you'll email me every mouth watering photo that you take of your fingers shoved deep in your pussy."
"Bradley," you whined, bucking your hips up until he had to hold you in place with his big hands on your body.
"I want a little treat every time you touch yourself. And I want to know that you're thinking about me."
"I'm always thinking about you."
Your words were an ego boost. Just the kind of thing that would get him through this work assignment and back into your arms. "When you're alone and thinking about me, I want some pictures, pretty girl. A whole inbox full of them. Some sweet ones," he crooned, kissing his way along your jaw to your lips. "And some dirty ones," he added, mouth teasing your skin until your nipple was between his lips and you were whining. He sucked gently, tugging until his lips popped free, leaving you begging for more with your fingers in his hair.
You stopped taking birth control a few weeks ago. The two of you decided to go with the flow and see what happens next. It felt nice to keep that kind of pressure out of the bedroom, especially when Bradley knew he'd be just as content with six kids or none. It's not like he needed anything besides you, and he told you that every single day.
"I'm going to miss my wife," he crooned, guiding his cock inside your slick perfection as soon as you spread your legs. He rocked in and out of you slowly, enjoying the feel of your body and your voice and your sweet scent. Memorizing everything. Telling himself he could get through the time away from you as long as he could come back to this.
It was so late when Bradley finally left the bed. You and he were wrung out and fucked out. Fingers laced together, barely moving, unable to go for a fourth round. "That was wild," you laughed when he finally rolled away from you, dizzy as he stood and looked at the wrecked bedding around your naked body.
"Shit, Gorgeous." He was laughing, too as he said, "I still need to finish packing in the next five hours."
You eased yourself up and stood next to him, assessing the blankets and his open duffle sitting on the floor against the wall. "What if I told you this was all just a ploy to keep you here with me instead of getting you ready to leave?"
"Then I would say I love you."
----------------------------------
Waking up for work in a bed that was half cold was not your idea of a good time. You shivered every morning that Bradley was gone, especially when November brought with it a chilly bite to the air. The commute from Coronado to Mira Mesa and back each day felt like a punishment when you knew you weren't going to arrive home to a husband who was excited to see you and hear about your adventures in teaching.
Instead, you did the best you could to make it home to your computer where you could type paragraph after paragraph to him, letting him know what was going on back in California. You sent him a plethora of photos, some of which didn't include your face as a precaution. You even went into detail about how much you missed him at bedtime.
And the best part was, you got just as much, if not more, in return. His days were largely repetitious, but there was always something new he was telling you about. His gym selfies never disappointed, and neither did the paragraphs where he told you in an abundance of detail how much he missed waking up next to you.
While you made it a point to spend time with Natasha, Edith, Ruby and Marty, the loneliness was somehow worse now that you had rings on your finger. The best thing to happen was the arrival of the day when your new fourth grade class started their unit on aviation.
Your students had been anticipating it for weeks, and you had some eager faces looking back at you on the Monday morning when you stood at the front of your classroom and said, "We're about to embark on a flight that will take us through our math, science and language arts classes for weeks to come. As we learn all about aviation, we'll be writing to a naval aviator on an aircraft carrier, and we'll even get to visit a local naval base for a field trip. Let's start out by learning the definitions of a few words that we'll be using frequently."
Later that week, you had a sizable cardboard box packed up with letters and snacks for your husband. Instead of telling him exactly when the first package would arrive, you left it as a surprise for him to stumble upon.
-------------------------------
Bradley was exhausted. The mechanical crew on this deployment was nowhere near as kind or competent as Marty, and he found himself constantly visiting their shop to work through issues with his aircraft. He missed his friends and his home and his wife. He missed you so fucking much. All of the letters and emails you sent him were fantastic, but he even missed having a bunch of pen pals to converse with at the end of the day.
Every happy thought that entered his mind seemed to be pushed aside when he realized he was still a long way from returning to San Diego. He considered skipping dinner in favor of collapsing in his bunk, but he could tell he was already losing weight. You weren't around to keep him well fed, so when his stomach started to rumble, he made a point to head for the noisy mess hall.
The cabbage rolls were disgusting, but at least the aircraft carriers were consistent. He picked at his meal and then ate two plates of dessert to make himself feel a little bit better. When he was sorting his dirty dishes and tray into the appropriate place, he was surprised to hear his name being called amongst some others.
"Bradshaw! You've got unclaimed mail!"
He perked up immediately. How did he have something else to claim? He picked up an enormous envelope from you the other day along with a card from Edith. Did you send him a handwritten note again already?
When he went to the small window in front of the mail center and gave his name, a box was thrust into his hands. Bradley's heart leapt when he saw the return address was from Mira Mesa Elementary School. He should have been expecting this, but he was suddenly happy you kept it as a surprise. A smile curled along his lips. He could have some regular pen pals to correspond with again. His smile grew wider when he looked at the way you addressed the box to him in your tidy handwriting.
To MY US Naval Aviator (Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw)
---------------------------------
Bradley has the ultimate pen pal in his wife. Thanks for reading this series which ended up being so much longer than originally intended! Thanks for all of the love and feedback along the way! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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El-Max parallels implying Billy's physical abuse of Max
quick mostly-gif analysis. we're told that Billy "takes his anger out on Max" and that he "made her life living hell." was he physically abusive to Max all along? nobody ever says that.
we see Billy physically abuse Lucas and Steve. but if we're talking strictly about Max, those phrasings leave room for people to argue that Billy might've been emotionally abusive, but didn't actually hit her or anything. that that arm-grab in the car is just sibling behavior and not necessarily indicative of abuse.
and, hey man, look, you're right that they never say. but there's lots of things this show never explicitly says.
note that we only see Billy/flayed Billy hurt Max twice, and both of those are parallels to ways we also see him hurt El.
the Billy-Max arm grab is suspiciously similar to the Billy-El arm grab. surprise grab, struggle/yanking, and then a rough release. he makes the same face.
(I've seen the argument that Max's daring snark before, and surprise at, the grab suggests he's never hurt her before. but I think both could just as well be explained by the fact that they're in public, where she thought she was safer from this than at home.)
we also see El and Max take facial injuries from flayed Billy at Starcourt. these close ups of their injuries are in consecutive scenes:
and we see him hurt El lots more times than we do Max.
so if the only two we know about are parallels, it makes me wonder about all the other times:
Billy strangling El
the way Billy pauses to look pointedly at Max as he starts strangling El, like he's getting something out of her, in particular, watching this. and then the way Max later looks guilty about the bruise it leaves on El's throat. (I will be discussing this at length soon)
Billy throwing the weights at El
that scene where he's lifting weights and yelling at Max (who's duct taping the skateboard he's heavily implied to have broken as punishment about Lucas)... hmmmm.
hey it's almost like the skateboard is a symbol of / scapegoat for Billy's abuse, because remember:
baby Max with the broken arm
maybe she broke it skateboarding. she did tell Nancy and Jonathan that skateboarding is why she knows first aid, but they don't look like they're buying it.
however, we just so happen to have seen another flashback of baby Max before, which makes it clear that she already knew Billy around this age. (Runaway Max says Billy broke her friend's arm btw.)
Billy repeatedly leaning over El at Starcourt
the "stay still" shit and the way he's repeatedly, unnecessarily, on top of El in that scene, using his body to trap her in. (like. if he wants her to quit struggling, it'd be easier to kick her when he's already standing than to get back on all fours and headbutt her. why does he actively get in the way of the MF to keep Doing That.) we've seen Billy block Max in before with the silent threat of his physicality. a subtle taste of a commonly overlooked form of abuse.
those all leave me wondering about the ones I can't think of Max screenshots to pair with.
Billy slamming El by the face... throwing her into the wall to knock her out... dragging El by the foot as she tries to crawl away from him (only to get back on top of her once again)...
but hey. no worries. they never said any of that.
#givehimthemedicine analysis#max mayfield#eleven#tw abuse#some of these gifs are 💩 but I'm not doing it again#very much hoping the sa flavors are purely vecna and not really a billy thing (not that I'm happy about it being anyone's thing)#but the rest...#billy
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Just saw a TikTok where a woman says that her husband uses the dyson air wrap he brought for his wife more than her, why can I see Ben also acting like that 🤣
Lmfao oh, anon. That's really funny to imagine. 😂
I feel like Soldier Boy (Ben)'s been surrounded by hair stylists for most of his life, so might not be as well versed in managing his own hair. But he absolutely would be one to shave for himself, since that's more of a right of passage for men, especially one of his time.
However, when his S.O./girlfriend/wife comes into the picture, he'd probably start to get used to at least figuring out how to style his own hair at home... That's where the Dyson hairdryer comes in. 🤣
Imagine Soldier Boy (Ben) Using Your Hairdryer:
At first, Ben's intrigued and bewildered looking at this "stupid fucking thing," trying to figure out how it works with all these weird attachments.
Muttering to himself, "Looks like one of her dildos, for Christ's sake."
That thought might make him hesitate on actually trying it out, but when he finally manages to switch it on, it's like a lightbulb goes off above his head. Something inside him has just gotta try this thing.
He doesn't dare experiment while you're at home though. He's going to wait until you're out of the house, for at least a few hours.
He's going to try and fail a few times to actually do what he wants to do with his hair (a simple blow-dry). But eventually, "Ha!" He's done it.
You notice something different about him when you get home. You squint your eyes at him, looking at the gentle, downright shiny swoop of his hair to match his well-trimmed beard.
"Did you..." you trail off.
He raises his brows, feigning ignorance. "What?"
"...Never mind," you say, but you do tell him he looks handsome today.
Of course, his vain ass smirks in a way that says, I look handsome every damn day. (You roll your eyes in amusement.)
You do eventually catch him using your hairdryer. He's humming while he grooms himself in the bathroom, expertly maneuvering the various attachments as he sees fit.
It's the biggest struggle of your life to contain your shock (and laughter). You're torn between leaving him be to practice some healthy self-care...and your instinct to sneak a pic or two. Maybe even a quick video that you might just send to Annie and the rest of the boys later.
That's when Ben catches sight of you in the mirror. His look of concentration melts into a surly, frowning mixture of surprise and embarrassment. He switches off the hairdryer and lays it down on the counter. For a moment, he just stands there, knowing he's caught, bracing himself for your teasing.
Biting your lip, you go over to him and raise up on your toes, leaning one hand on his shoulder so you can sift your fingers through the soft brown strands of his hair.
You smile. "Looks good, babe. Good job."
Slowly, his lips form a familiar cocky smile.
"Damn right, it does."
AN: LOL I didn't intend for this to be a full-on headcanon/imagine, but that's basically what happened. 😂
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Leave it all behind Pt.1 | Oscar Piastri
warning: angst, breakup
summary: Having a relationship with Oscar was good, and then it all just stopped.
Oscar and you had been in a relationship since we were teenagers and we practically had known each other since kids. It was love, like if it was meant to be. But then, everything changed. It was as if he was too focused on winning or at least getting a podium, but in that process, he was losing you. All the forgotten dates and the lack of communication, you first felt as if you were to problem. That you weren't trying to stay in touch with him.
"Osc, you sure we're all good?"you asked for the third time as he looked away from the screen of his phone, almost as if he was avoiding to answer "Yeah, nothing has happened. I'm just a bit off today" Even during a video call he didn't seem interested in anything you said. And that's how the last call with him went. And it hurt, so so much that you started to think that it was all your fault.
But distance wasn't the problem, neither did you. Oscar was the one who didn't really cared as much as he used to do. He hadn't text or call you in a while, he even forgot your anniversary a few weeks ago.
What was going on? Was he not interested in you now? Where had all that love and promises went?
And that's when it happened, without a warning, he text you. But it wasn't particularly hard to notice that something was going on.
The pain of betrayal, the anger you felt were surreal. You even started thinking that you hated him, or at least how he ended things with you. How did he changed that much? Why did he hurt you like that? But at the end of the day, you didn't understand him, not even when you tried. It all would be a lie if you told anyone that you didn't cry. Because you, in fact, ended up sobbing uncontrollably as the tears stained your face.
Three days later, a call interrupted your not so good night sleep. It was Nicole, as in your now ex mother in law. Needless to say that you were more than surprise.
"Hello?" You attended, still a bit sleepy "Hi'ya love, I'm really sorry to bother you. But I haven't heard from Osc in a while, so" she laughed a little "I just wanted to check if everything was alright with him, you know" Frozed in your bed, that how you were the second that Nicole end up saying that.
"Uhm, I actually think you need to ask him that yourself, Nicole, because mhm uhm He broke of with me a while ago" Thenn, you clearly heard her gasp, which confirmed you that she nor his entire family was aware of that tinny bitty issue.
"Omg, love, I'm so sorry. As I said, I haven't heard from him. Oh, He's so stupid, sweetie, I will contact him myself in that case. " And that's how all the conversation ended, followed by an uncomfortable goodbye.
Meanwhile, in the McLaren hospitality, everything seemed to be a chaos. And although he was trying to act strong, Oscar Piastri wanted a well needed break of all that pressure. He was starting to get sick of analyzing data and having long meetings about new strategies.
But most of all, he missed you. He had realized hours later he texted you that he had completely fucked up. He was so stupid.
He had led stress control all of his thoughts, which ended up pretty badly. And he realized it even more when he started receiving angry texts from his mom and apparently all of her sisters.
He couldn't restrain himself from crying once he got to his hotel. But just as he was entering the elevator, he was stopped by an angry Thai, who seemed to have also heard the news.
"Mate, are you fucking stupid? How could you even do this? You have no shame" Oscar couldn't even answer as he started sobbing just as Alex finished his complaint.
"You really need to fix this" Alex said just a few moments later "Let her know your sorry, and that you know how stupid your decision was"
"I don't know if she will forgive" He confessed "I have disappointed her so many times that I don't think she'll give me another chance"
"You have to at least try it, if you really love her"
hi loves!! I was thinking of doing a taglist, soo, let me know if you want to be in it <3
Also, I just finished writing this, so idk when I will post pt.2 but I definitely will
remember, requests are always open 🌷
pdst. I would really appreciate having requests bc rn my creativity is not the best 😭
#f1 x oc#f1 x reader#f1 one shot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you
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Fancy ride - Sirius Black
summary: Sirius gets jealous when you're sharing stories from your date with Evan, so you put him in his place. cw: jealous!sirius, caught making out wc: 2.3k+
"It was the most inappropriate joke but something about it just worked, I don't know."
The marauders all sat in the common room, listening to you recall the story of your apparently amazing date with Evan to Lily and Marlene. The girls asked questions about information James and Remus claimed they did not want to know, despite leaning forward to hear you better. Sirius sulked on the couch next to Remus, who had whispered to him to be nice before you'd started your story, well-aware of his feelings for you. Now, looking at the boy, he was shocked. Sure, Sirius always flirted with you, but everyone always thought it was just for shits and giggles, two good friends poking fun at each other. Or at least, Remus thought Sirius just had a little crush - nothing big. He thought Sirius would be ask mean questions about your date, belittling his masculinity, however he only sat silently on the couch with a frown on his face.
Loud giggles from the three girls opposite Sirius had his head snapping up, attention grasped. His eyes locked on you, sitting on the floor laughing, hands clasped around Lily's bicep as you leaned on her for support to sit up straight. Sirius glanced towards the two boys sitting on his right: James's face was flushed pink at the intimate details being shared and Remus was laughing along with you guys in disbelief. "Shit, well how fancy was his ride at least?" Remus added, throwing you and Marlene into another fit of giggles. Sirius furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not understanding the relevancy to the date. Shit, he wished he was listening now. "Wait I don't get it. He picked you up to the place so you're in love with him now?"
When the laughing calmed down, Marlene scrunched her face up, muttering "What?" With an amused scoff and Lily gave him an almost pitying look that had Sirius throwing his hands into the air in surrender, saying "I zoned out for two seconds, I don't know what happened." You smiled at him, a gorgeous smile that made Sirius feel like the most special person in your life. God, you were too nice to him. He smiled back at you. "No, Sirius. He was my ride, if you know what I mean." Sirius's smile dropped as Lily squealed at the reveal of new information, reaching for her butterbeer. "You fucked!?" Marlene questioned, and you nodded, almost proudly, gesturing towards Remus with a nod. "Remus had a feeling, didn't you Rem?" The boy nodded, leaning back against the couch.
"Hence the question." He said, looking over to James and slapping a hand on the boy's shoulder. He looked horrified. "Jesus prongs, it's as though you've never had sex!" Remus exclaimed with a laugh. "I didn't know this was how girls spoke about us afterwards!" He yelled, voice comedically high-pitched. Despite the commotion, Sirius found your eyes still on him, observing his reaction. You were fiddling with your necklace nervously, afraid that he was judging you. "What? You asked the long-haired boy, making everyone's attention turn towards you. Sirius shook his head quickly "Nothing. I just feel like I should have been listening to the rest of the story now." You laughed at his response, but Sirius could tell it wasn't genuine. You knew he was lying.
"I don't know if James is up to hear any more information-" "Forget James!" Remus interrupted, picking up his butterbeer and rounding the table to sit with you and the girls on the floor. "I want to know." You giggled, and Sirius took note of how the smile reached your eyes this time. "Wait so was the ride taking you, or were you riding the ride?" Marlene not-so-subtly questioned, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. "A little bit of both." Remus hummed, muttering into his bottle "That's probably why I can still smell it on you." You gasped, jumping up and screeching "You're joking! I've showered twice since!" In the corner of your eye, you watched Sirius stand up, walking towards the staircase. Your gaze followed him, head turning to see him disappear up the stairs. James stood up too, jokingly stating "Well I'm going to let you girls finish your little gossip session" before following his best friend. Remus threw a pillow at James, narrowly missing his retreating figure.
When you turned back towards your best friends, finding their eyes locked on you, you retreated into yourself, mumbling "What?" Lily cocked her head to the side, a knowing expression on her face. "Why'd you care so much about what he thinks of your date?" Pointed out Marlene, leaning against the table. Remus's face contorted into one of confusion, going silent as he observed the interaction. You rolled your eyes, turning your attention to the lit fireplace to avoid eye contact with either of your dorm-mates.
"It's fine to admit-" "No I won't!" You cut Marlene off, sharply turning towards her. "Because the second I admit that I like him out loud it becomes real." You whisper-yelled at her. A silence dawned on you and the girls, but Remus gasped loudly. "You like Sirius!?" He asked, matching the volume of your voice and looking around the common room after name-dropping. "Men." Lily scoffed, and you followed her action, scoffing too. "What about Evan?" He asked. "Evan was a date. I had fun with him. Once. It's different with Sirius." Remus put his bottle on the table, the glass making a loud slamming sound as he did. He turned towards you, saying "Y/n he likes you too. He likes you too much." You shook your head at Remus's words, telling him "No, Sirius is protective and pretends to flirt with me to make me feel better about myself. He doesn't like me, he's just pissed I'm not playing his game right now."
Remus's jaw went slack in shock, shaking his head aggressively. "No, no, y/n, Sirius doesn't just flirt with people he doesn't like." Ouch. "Remus!" Lily scolded, watching as your face changed, and your eyes went glassy. "So he just likes everyone then?" You spat, and Remus's eyes widened, shaking his head even faster now. "No, no, you don't get it! You just can't tell when Sirius is actually flirting with someone. There's a very fine line between flirting and being nice for Sirius." He insisted. None of you looked convinced.
"Save your breath Remus, you're not making it any better." The boy ran his hands over his scarred face, thinking up solutions. "I know! He'll just tell you himself!" Your eyes widened when Remus stood up, realisation dawning on you. "Remus no!" You tried, but the boy wasn't listening to you, already halfway to his dorm. Speeding up your pace, you chased Remus up the stairs, only catching his wrist hallway across the hallway when he came to a stop in front of his door. "Remus," you whispered, panting lightly. "Don't." Remus looked at you for a while before finally nodding when he noticed the fearful look in your eyes. Unfortunately, the door to the dorm swung open nonetheless, and you found James stood in front of you. He took a moment to look at you and your hand wrapped around Remus's wrist, confusion settling onto him.
Unluckily for you, directly facing the doorway, Sirius sat at the window nook, smoking a cigarette near the open window. He observed the scene just as James did, and you let go of Remus's wrist, letting your arm fall to your side. Remus looked at you with a pleading look on his face. "Just fucking tell him." You scoffed, an incredulous look on your face. He finds out about your crush and five minutes later has you trying to tell Sirius? Absolutely not.
"No."
Sirius exhaled, smoke from the cigarette dispersing in the air. "Tell who what?" Sirius asked, making both your heads snap towards him. James slid through the doorway and between you and Remus, watching you from the other side of the door now. You angrily strolled into the dorm and Remus's eyes lit up, watching as you snatched the cigarette from between Sirius's lips, telling him "I thought you said you were gonna quit smoking." Putting the cigarette between your lips, you inhaled deeply as Sirius scoffed, muttering "Fucking hypocrite." Remus grinned, reaching over to shut the door before turning to James. "Progress." The confused boy grimaced, letting out a clueless 'huh?'
On the other side of the door, you stood looming over Sirius as you smoked silently, eyes shutting in satisfaction. "Give that back! Aren't you supposed to be talking about the mind blowing sex you had?" Sirius growled, taking the cigarette from you, watching as you sat down next to him, exhaling the smoke into his face with an annoyed smirk. Fuck. Sirius gulped, inhaling the smoke in the air. God knows he would have yelled at anyone else who did that, but with you? It was sexy. "What's so annoying about the sex I have? God knows I've had to listen to you talk about countless women." Sirius swallowed, cheeks heating up. You had a point. "You just annoyed that the sex I have isn't with you?"
Sirius froze, the cigarette burning between his fingers. You smiled condescendingly, taking the cigarette from him and bringing it back to your mouth. You inhaled, leaning back on the pillows behind you, your head hitting the cool glass of the window. The cigarette rested between your fingers, hand draped over the couch as you blew the smoke into the air, staring up at the ceiling. You felt your heart aggressively beating against your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as you attempted to keep your nonchalant attitude. Sirius’s face popped in your ray of vision. Glancing at him, you realised how much closer he was to you now, hand propped right next to your shoulder to hold himself up, leaning over your torso. “What?” Your wall of confidence wavered, and you took in a shaky breath, eyes softening in fear of his judgement. “Remus told me everything.” You blurted out, a fake confidence in your voice that Sirius didn’t buy for a single second.
“Sit up.” Sirius spoke, shuffling away from you to make space for you to sit properly. “What?” You mumbled, pushing yourself up on your elbows. “Sit up so we can have a proper conversation.” Following Sirius’s orders, you sat up, leaning over to put the cigarette out on the ashtray in front of you before resting your hands on your thighs. Sirius stayed silent in front of you, a solemn look on his face. He only stared at you, as though trying to decipher the look on your face. You felt sick. “Sirius I swear to god if you reject me I’m going to throw up out of that window.” Sirius grimaced at your words, scrunching his nose up before snapping his head towards you.
“Wait, me reject you?” Sirius breathed out. You nodded wordlessly, watching as Sirius’s face morphed into twenty different emotions before starting to speak again. “Remus told you I like you.” You hummed. “So why on earth would I reject you?” Shrugging your shoulders, you opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “I thought you were here to reject me.” Your back straightened at Sirius’s words automatically. “Remus wasn’t lying?” It was Sirius’s turn to shake his head, and he hesitantly moved closer to you on the couch.
“What about Evan?” Sirius asked, and you felt his cold breath on your face. You reached a hand over to push Sirius’s black locks behind his shoulder, cupping his jaw and stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Sirius, he was never a real option.” A relieved grin made its way onto Sirius’s face, shifting his weight to lean closer to you, cupping your cheeks to bring your face closer to his, and pulling you into a desperate kiss. You gasp the seconds your lips touch, both hands closing in on the fabric of Sirius’s shirt. You let Sirius manhandle you onto your back, his torso hovering over yours as he needily deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into your open mouth. You whined as one of your hand slipped under Sirius’s untucked shirt, feeling his muscles clench at your soft touch. Sirius barely pulled away from you, biting softly at your bottom lip before kissing you properly again, bringing his body closer to yours so you could feel his chest touching yours, hair falling over his shoulders to tickle your cheeks.
Just as Sirius brought his hips down, dragging them across yours, the door to the dorm slammed open, and Sirius jerked away from you, straightening up so he straddled one of your thighs. Your head snapped towards the door and the two silent teenagers who stood there. James gestured with his hand awkwardly, and you felt your face heat up as he said “We were sitting outside and we just- we uh-” “-We thought we should check on you. Just… in case.” Remus finished for him, eyes glued to Sirius, now pulling on his shirt to make himself look a little more presentable. When Remus and James still don’t move, you pushed yourself up on your arms to help yourself sit up, and your thigh pushed upwards, grazing Sirius just between the legs. The boy gasped loudly, hands immediately flying to his crotch, and he jumped off you, instantly walking towards the doorway, where Remus and James stood. “Well, you checked up on us for sure!” Sirius exclaimed, pushing the door closed and forcing them out into the hallway.
When Sirius swung around to face you again, you were already stood behind him, and your hands immediately got to unbuckling his trousers. You dropped to your knees and Sirius felt himself get harder at the sight of you looking up at him with a glint in your eyes. His hand reached back, blindly searching for the doorknob until he heard the ‘click’ of the lock. Outside, Remus and James stood still in confusion and near awkwardness. They didn't say a single word until they heard a loud moan on the other side of the door, and immediately scrambled away, tripping over their feet to reach the common room.
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