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In Vino Veritas
Pairing → Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Lab Assistant! Female! Reader
Total Wordcount → 3.5K
Summary → It all started when you and the Avengers enjoyed drinks during the afterparty back at the Avengers Tower. There, Tony revealed one of your deepest secrets, and even though you wish it had never come to light at first, you’re glad it did when the man you love stands on your doorstep, ready to start the rest of your life together.
Tags & Warnings → Semi-canon compliant, Avenger! Bucky Barnes, Female! Reader, Tony’s Lab Assistant! Reader, Bucky’s past as TWS is mentioned, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, some cursing, and explicit sexual content.
Tags: Smut → Grinding, begging, some dirty talk, praise, teasing Bucky, protected sex, cowgirl position.
Story Rating → Explicit
Author’s Note → This story is beta'd by the wonderful @late-to-the-party-81, and I cannot thank you enough for that. I hope you'll all enjoy my story, which is filled with some angst, lots of fluff, and some smut to top it all off! 💜
Writing Prompts @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition → “There is no us.” | Riding | In vino veritas | “Touch me.” @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition → Crush at first sight @julybreakbingo Post-JBB → Being confronted about their feelings for another
Tags List → If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.
The evening starts fine, good, even. But it all takes an unexpected turn when the man you work for - Tony Stark - reveals your secret. A secret that you’d only recently revealed to him.
Earlier that day, you’d spotted Bucky as he was working out and from that moment on your mind has been with him instead of your usual work and tasks.
“Hello, Y/N? Anyone home in there?” Tony asks as he lays a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. You look up at him with a worried look while he smiles back at you with a kind expression. A soft sigh escapes your lips as the thoughts in your head wander off again, specifically how his back looked underneath the tank top he wore in the gym while doing squats. Not only that, but you also can’t stop thinking about the way his ass looked in the sweatpants he wore. In a word, magnificent.
“Is everything okay with you? You’ve been a bit off your game today.” As Tony sits next to you, you put down the screwdriver you were holding - the one he asked you three times to pass to him - before turning to face him, your gaze focusing somewhere on the wall behind him. For a moment, there’s a silence between you as you gather the courage to tell him what’s been on your mind.
“Well, uhm- There’s something, or someone, that I can’t stop thinking about, and it’s taking over my mind every second of every day. It- It’s Bucky,” you say almost in a whisper. For a few seconds, Tony is completely silent as he lets the thought of you having a crush on one of his fellow Avengers sit in his mind. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he reaches out for your hand and takes it between his warm ones.
“You know that I’ll always support you in everything, right? I supported you when you expressed your desire to halt your life as an Avenger and retrain as my lab technician, and I supported you when you moved out of Avengers Tower to have your own home with more peace. This is not going to be any different. All I’m hoping for is that he will make you the happiest and best version of you, as you deserve nothing less.”
Tears brim at your waterline as Tony tells you this, and even though you deeply appreciate him, his words, and everything he has done for you, you can’t help but still feel a bit… odd about the fact you told him you’re having a crush on Bucky. That you have a crush on the man who was once the most feared assassin in the world under the hands of HYDRA.
“Now, can you hand me that screwdriver before your thoughts wander off to him again?” your boss asks in a teasing tone, making you smile as you grab it and hand it to him. Somehow, he always seems to know the right thing to say, and it's exactly why you enjoy spending time by his side while learning everything there is to know about his lab and what's going on in there.
Just as you’re about to get comfortable with another drink in your hand, you meet the gaze of the man you’re crushing on, and you feel heat coursing through your veins. The lines around his deep blue eyes intensify as he smiles at you, his attention making every last thought in your brain disappear. You’re so captivated by how Bucky looks at you that you miss your seat as you sit down. However, before you fall, you’re caught by a pair of solid arms that prevent you from hitting the floor.
“Careful there, Little One,” Thor says in his deep voice, his accent always making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. Even though you’d known Thor since you were young, you couldn’t help but get a little flustered by the nickname, and he smiled at you as you were finally sitting on the chair you intended to use.
“Thank you, Thor,” you whisper before sipping your cocktail. Around you, the conversations are starting to become a little blurry as you focus on Bucky and everything he has to say, his lips forming around the words effortlessly. When you suddenly feel a little shove against your arm, you yelp, making everyone go silent as they look at you.
“What did you do that for?!” you ask Thor in a low voice, but all he does is point to Tony, who obviously has something to say as he’s waving for everyone’s attention. There are moments when you enjoy the fact that alcohol can bring out people’s true feelings or thoughts, also known as in vino veritas, but not now. Oh no, now you wish you could disappear as you listen to the words coming out of Tony’s mouth.
“Guys, you really shouldn’t say this to Bucky or Y/N, but they’re having a massive crush on one another!” Tony says in a loud whispering tone, but what he fails to notice in his inebriated state is that you two are sitting right across from one another, enjoying the afterparty just like everyone else. Or at least, you were enjoying the afterparty until your secret got out.
The glass you were holding falls out of your hand before shattering into pieces on the floor, and your feet carry you as fast as they can away from the party and away from your worst nightmare come true. The music behind you fades away as you turn one corner after another, tears burning in your eyes as the event repeatedly replays in your mind. Your lungs start to burn as you keep running, the stinging feeling in your side increasing as you run out of the Avengers Tower into the night.
Meanwhile, Bucky’s world feels like it has taken a 180-degree turn. Mere minutes ago, he could only fantasize that you could have feelings for him, but now? A wave of disbelief washes over the super soldier, his expression showing pure surprise as he takes the moment in. For him, it was a crush at first sight from the momentyou walked into the training room on your first day. Over the years, his feelings have intensified, although he has only told Steve about his crush - or rather his now deep-rooted love - for you.
And yet, now that the pair of you have been confronted about your feelings for one another, he doesn’t know what to do. He has replayed the moment he’d confess his feelings to you more times than he can count in his mind, and in none of those versions, this is one of the scenarios that had appeared. It’s only when Steve grabs his arm and pulls him away that he seemingly comes back to reality again.
“Bucky, how does Tony know about your crush on Y/N? I mean, I’m, of course, fine with you sharing it, but-”
“I don’t know, Steve, I don’t know, and it kills me,” Bucky says as he runs his fingers through his cropped hair.“Fuck- I was planning on telling her this week but… but now it’s ruined, and I didn’t even get the chance to talk to her, and-” It’s all Bucky can say as he fights the urge to punch the wall with his metal fist, both hands clenched by his side as he tries to regulate his breathing. Without warning, Steve pulls him into a hug, and Bucky’s arms snake around his best friend's waist as his fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt.
“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Steve whispers, though he’s not entirely sure that’s true because he knows as well as anyone that things don’t always go back to how they were before. Still, Bucky decides to believe him as they stand there for a little while longer, and he soaks in every bit of comfort he can get for now. Lord knows he’s going to need it.
The past few days have been strange, to say the least. You haven’t been to the Avengers Tower since Tony revealed your now not-so-secret crush on the super soldier. You’re afraid of what will happen if you do. This also means you haven’t seen Bucky in a few days, and you miss him. You miss hearing his laugh, and you miss seeing how his mouth turns slightly upward as you hand him one of your baked goods, but most of all, you miss how his arms feel when he pulls you in for a hug.
Just as you’re about to make yourself a cup of tea, you get pulled from your thoughts by a soft but familiar knock on the door; only one thing can make that sound: Bucky’s metal hand knocking against the wood. For a moment, you contemplate your actions, but decide to give him at least a chance to talk, especially as it wasn’t him who laid out your feelings in front of everyone.
“Bucky, hi,” you say softly as you take in his appearance, your heart sinking as you do. It’s evident he hasn’t slept at all the past few days. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he doesn’t look as healthy as usual—more disheveled. The struggles he’s facing are apparent in his entire demeanor, and all you want to do is wrap him up in a warm blanket and cuddle him until the end of time.
“Hi,” he says hoarsely, and you step aside, allowing him to enter your apartment. He’s been here a few times already, and usually there’s a warmth radiating from you and every inch of the little place you call home, but ever since the party, it hasn’t been the same. It isn’t just the apartment, either. You feel different.
“Would you like some tea before we talk?” you ask to break the tension. “I was about to make some.”
He nods at you before wandering further into your apartment, and you head to the kitchen, picking out another mug for Bucky to use. Once he’s caught sight of your couch, he immediately takes a seat, a soft groan audible as he does. There aren’t many places more comfortable than the large couch that’s standing right here in your living room.
When you emerge a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of tea and a plate filled with chocolate chip cookies you baked fresh this morning, Bucky can’t help but smile at you. He gladly takes the tea with one of the cookies, as they’re his favorite, and when you sit down next to him, it feels just like it always has, as if nothing has changed. But you both know it has, and that’s why the super soldier’s now in your living room.
“So…” you start, unsure what to say now that he’s sitting on your couch. Bucky’s eyes are trained on the steaming tea in his hands, his thoughts going a mile a minute as he’s thinking about what he wants to say - other than confessing his love for you.
“So… uhm, we missed seeing you around the Tower,” Bucky starts, though you both know it’s mostly him who has missed seeing you there. You have always been a staple there during his mornings as you make him a cup of coffee, and during movie nights, you were always the one he could sit next to and enjoy the movie, but now that you’re not there, it’s like a piece of soul has left the Tower with you.
“I mean, yeah. It’s been a bit awkward for me to go back after what happened a few days ago,” you tell him, and a shudder of horror runs down your spine at the thought of having to face Tony again. A smile tugs at the corners of Bucky’s lips as he thinks back to what happened that night, a happy memory of your first meeting resurfacing in the back of his mind as he does.
“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. I’ve made some chocolate chip cookies, if you want some. However, I should warn you, Tony’s been on the prowl since I took them out of the oven, so I’ll advise you to be quick,” you say with a glare towards Tony, who has been eyeing them up since he walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. For the first time in a long time, Bucky showed something akin to a smile, and everyone looked at each other to ensure they saw it, too.
“Thank you,” he says lowly, grabbing one of the smaller ones on the plate, followed by a cup of coffee, before swiftly leaving the kitchen to spend more time in his room. Before Bucky even left the kitchen, Tony was on the cookies as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, and this time you let him.
“Can I- Is it okay if I tell you something? Because if I don’t say it now, I don’t know if I ever will,” Bucky says softly, and you nod before repositioning yourself so that you’re facing him. His gaze is still trained on his mug as he thinks carefully about his next words, afraid he might accidentally say the wrong thing.
“Tony was right. He is right, actually. When he said, we’re crushing on each other. I’ve been crushing on you since you offered me those chocolate chip cookies when Tony threatened to eat them all before anyone else had a chance to get them. It was like a switch flipped inside me back then, and I haven’t been the same since,” Bucky says, his mouth now in a line as he tells you about his feelings.
“Each time I look at you, it’s like I’m seeing an angel, and every time I hear your voice, it’s like a little piece of my soul is healing, too. I find myself drawn to you in every room and wonder what life has in store for us. But deep down inside, I know there is no ‘us’ yet. But I want there to be us. I want you, Y/N. I want you to be mine, in whatever capacity you’ll have me. If you want to stay friends, that’s okay with me, but if you want more, I’ll happily accept every bit of love you’re willing to offer me.”
Once Bucky’s done, you’re unsure what to say. What to think. What to do. You want to say that the feelings between you are mutual, that you’re in love with him and that you want nothing more than to be his, but something inside you is stopping you. So, instead of saying anything, you place your hand over his flesh limb, and his eyes slip shut at the feeling of your soft fingers against his rough hand.
“Bucky.” His name is a whisper on your lips, but it’s enough to make him look at you, to meet your gaze.
“I’m in love with you, too.”
As soon as the words leave your lips, Bucky carefully put his tea on the coffee table before hauling you onto his lap, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your waist as your lips interlock in a passionate dance. He can’t get enough of your soft mouth slotting together with his and the way his tongue fights for dominance with yours as your fingers dig into his neck. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt a strong connection with someone, and you’re happy to explore it with Bucky.
Your hips grind over his growing length of their own volition,your body looking for any bit of friction it can get. Without warning, one of Bucky’s hands slides lower until he’s cupping your ass, making you gasp into his mouth as a result. Bucky can’t help but smile into the kiss as he pulls you impossibly closer, your legs spreading just a bit further as you sink against his muscular body.
“Hmm, I’ve been wanting this - you - for so long,” he says between the kisses trailing your jaw towards your ear, his teeth nipping on your earlobe as your head lolls to the side. With every passing second, your thoughts are melting away more and more, and all that’s left inside your mind is Bucky. Soon, his other hand joins the first as he helps you grind onto him, a groan falling from his lips as he sets a perfect pace for you both.
“B-Bucky—" his name sounds more like a whine than anything else. “I—I want you.”
“But you already have me, pretty girl, ‘m right here,” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, his hands continuing to help you grind until you’re a complete mess for him. Your shorts are ruined, your arousal soaking through them and onto the bulge in his black jeans, much to Bucky’s joy. He was wondering what it would take to get you to this point, and it turns out it won’t take much.
He smiles against the skin of your neck, where he’s taking his time to mark you with hickeys and small bitemarks, all of which leave you a bit more of a moaning, begging mess on his lap, much to his pride. When one of your hands moves away from his neck and down his torso, he quickly catches on to what you’re doing. “Someone’s a little impatient today, huh?”
“Yes, oh god, yes! I need you to touch me, Bucky. I want to feel you inside me as you make me fall apart on your cock, and I need you to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow!” Your voice sounds more breathy than usual, but every care you thought you had has gone out the window. All you want is Bucky and his cock to ride, until you’re orgasming so hard and long you can’t remember your name.
“Okay, I will. Don’t you worry about anything, okay? Let me take care of you, and I’ll give you everything you need and more,” he reassures you in a shushing voice. You nod before kissing him again, which immediately deepens before he gently helps you get up, allowing you to take off your panties and shorts, and he can take off his pants and boxershorts, too. As soon as you’re both freed from your last pieces of clothing, you hand him a condom you retrieved from the side table drawer while he took the time to undress himself.
“Hmmm, looks so thick,” you tell him as you look at it with wide eyes, wondering how he’s going to fit inside you as you’re positioning yourself on his lap once more, your legs bracketing his thicks thighs as you get comfortable.
“I know, but I’m gonna go slow. Wouldn’t want to hurt you and your perfect, sweet little pussy.” He smiles as he holds his cock in place, your pliant body sinking onto him slowly as your fingers dig into his shoulders to steady yourself. Your hiss of pleasure is audible and your face contorts at the slight sting of him stretching you, but just like he promised, Bucky is taking it slow to ensure you’ll both have the most amazing first time.
As soon as you’re fully seated on his lap, your body goes limp against him, your face tucked in the crook of his neck as you adjust to his girth, and Bucky places soft kisses on your head while praising you through it all. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. Such a good girl for me, letting me take the lead and giving you exactly what you need.”
A small smile appears on your face as you look up at him with big, doe-like eyes, and he can’t help but smile back as the back of his fingers gently caress your cheek. He may have thought you were beautiful before, but nothing compares to this moment.
“I love you, Y/N, and I promise to take care of you with every fiber of my being,” he whispers, his lips sealing his promise against your cheek. Your eyes fall shut at his words, and his hand moves down your side until it’s on your hip again, ready for you to let him know when you’re good to go. Your bodies work in complete sync with one another with every rise and fall of your chest, and his hands guide you beautifully as you slowly sink and rise on his length.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, and it doesn’t take long for both of you to find your highs for the first time, and they’re serving as a promise of everything else that’s still to come in this lifetime. A few days ago, you and Bucky didn’t even know you felt the same about one another, but now you’re sharing the start of the rest of your lives, and it’s all thanks to Tony. Because without him, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the man of your dreams how much you love him.
Masterlist → Bucky Barnes
GIF: Source → All the other graphics you see are made by @vintagebuckybarnes
#fandom free bingo: bug edition#fandom free bingo: medical edition#july break bingo#post-july break bingo#bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#winter soldier#winter soldier angst#winter soldier fluff#winter soldier smut#winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x female reader#winter soldier x y/n#winter soldier x you#marvel#marvel angst#marvel fluff#marvel smut#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine
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A bit of detective work
A continuation of this post, now separated so you don't have to scroll forever to get to the newest installment. Also: masterpost
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After escorting the Fentons back to their home, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Constantine mutually agreed it was best to stick around Amity Park for a little while. Constantine wandered off to look around on the civilian side, while Batman of course kept his promise to excuse Danny from school. Wonder Woman, also of course, kept with him. Sadly even as a very prominent member of the Justice League, well known to be one of the founders, somehow in situations like this it always took twice as long to get anywhere with civilians if he didn’t have at least one other League member with him.
“Hello, how can I help you?” the secretary asked with a forced grin as the two heroes entered the school’s front office.
“Good morning,” Diana said cheerfully, thankfully taking point. “I’m not sure who we should speak to, we’re here to excuse a student.”
“Oh, you are?” The secretary looked unsure, glancing back and forth between the two heroes.
“Yes, he’s currently marked with an unexcused absence, we’re here to change it to an excused absence.”
“Right…” the secretary squinted up at them suspiciously. Or rather, up at Diana suspiciously. “Well, if you would just hold on one moment please.” The secretary picked up an old style land line and pressed a button. “Principal Ishiyama, there’s a Mr. Batman and a… Ms. Wonder Woman here, they wish to speak about a student’s absence.” The secretary made a few “I’m listening” sounds before hanging up. They turned their attention back to the League members. “Principal Ishiyama’s office is just down that hall.”
“Thank you!” Diana beamed at the secretary before walking confidently down the hallway, Batman at his side.
The inside of Principal Ishiyama’s office is rather cramped,clearly intended pubescent children and not adults who keep such active lifestyles. Diana graciously sits in one of the austere, hard chairs. Batman chooses to remain standing.
“Now, what’s this all about?” Ishiyama asked, eyeing Wonder Woman warily.
How odd, it was usually Batman that everyone eyed suspiciously.
“We’re here about Daniel Fenton’s absence,” Diana started. She paused long enough for the principal to pull up the young man’s information. “The investigation is ongoing so we can’t give out any details, but last night we rescued Danny from kidnappers. He has been returned to his parents, but for obvious reasons he will not be back in school today.”
“Ah, I see,” the principal said. She did not seem to see. “And you want his absence excused?”
“If the police had come to you saying he’d been kidnapped,” Batman stated clinically.
“Yes, right, of course.” The principal set about clicking a few things on her computer before returning her full attention to the heroes. “Was there anything else?”
It was almost refreshing how easy that had been. Normally Batman would have to lay out what he meant in excruciating detail and have whoever was with him repeat it before a civilian in half a position of power listened to him, outside of Gotham anyway. “Dr. Madeline Fenton was upset not to have been informed of Danny’s absence,” Batman stated.
Ishiyama flinched, “Oh dear. Thank you for warning me, I shall look into that before they arrive later.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Dr. Madeline Fenton also stated that everyone in Amity Park knows about the Ghost King.”
“Ghost King?” The principal looked up in surprise, “What does he…? No wait, ongoing investigation.” She side eyed Diana warily, then sighed as she looked back towards Batman. “Last year the Ghost King got out of his sarcophagus, we still don’t know how, and pulled all of Amity Park into the Ghost Zone. Fortunately Phantom, along with the help of most of the town, managed to put him back in the sarcophagus.”
“Why didn’t you contact the Justice League for help?” Diana asked with a frown on her face.
“How were we supposed to do that from inside the Ghost Zone?” The principal asked with a raised brow. “By the time we were back in the real world everything was over and dealt with, aside from cleaning up all the damage his army of skeletons did.”
“And Phantom is?” Batman prompted.
“Out local hero, I suppose. At first he was a menace, but recently the good he does far outweighs the inevitable collateral damage.”
Batman leaned forward, looming over Ishiyama’s desk. “Are you aware the Justice League has programs specifically meant to give support to minors doing hero work?”
“I was not, but considering Phantom is a ghost we’re not sure exactly how old he is. Either way, you’re here now.”
“Yes, and we should speak with the mayor about the supervillain attack recovery programs the Justice League also has.”
Ishiyama smiled and nodded along, “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Once out of the school and walking towards city hall, Diana turned to Bruce. “Phantom is a minor?”
“He is described as appearing to be in his mid-teens, strangely no photos of him despite there being photos of other ghosts all over the residents’ social medias and newspaper articles.”
“That is odd,” Diana mused.
“This whole town is odd,” Constantine said as he sidled up to them. “Apparently getting sucked into, and I quote, the lime jello dimension by the ghost king is just another Tuesday here.”
“The principal called it the Ghost Zone,” Diana supplied.
“A silly thing to call the Infinite Realms, but not the silliest name it’s been given over the eons. What I don’t get is how Pariah Dark got bloody out for a day and not one single person noticed, that should’ve been a huge event everyone even remotely sensitive to æther should’ve felt.”
“You believe someone intentionally hid this event?” Batman asked.
“It’s the only thing that makes a lick of sense, but that would take either someone scarily powerful or a group of very powerful people. And that’s not even getting into the why.”
“Perhaps this cult wasn’t the first to attempt to summon him,” Batman mused darkly. “Someone chose to release him, and since Amity Park is already a ghost hotspot I can see why this is where they’d choose to attempt such a thing.”
Constantine nodded along, “I was thinking the same thing. But it gets worse, no one in the JLD has heard or sensed a single thing about this town before today. I’m thinking it’s less someone chose to cloak Pariah Dark specifically and more someone is cloaking the whole town and everything going on inside it.”
“Then how did whoever freed Pariah Dark know to come here for their attempt?” Diana asked, “How did this cult know enough to use one of the residents as a sacrifice?”
“Ain’t that just the million pound question?” Constantine asked airily. “Along with: how did they even get into the Infinite Realms to let the bloody tyrant out?” The group fell into silence, no one having an answer to that question. “So, what next?”
“We’re heading to the mayor’s office to make sure they’re aware of Justice League resources that are available to anyone who’s suffered from villain attacks,” Diana answered.
“Despite numerous attacks and complaints of collateral damage, not one request from Amity Park for villain attack relief,” Batman added.
“Now that is interesting,” Constantine said.
#dpxdc#danny phantom#dc comics#justice league#nenna writes#fanfic#also yes it seems we're going with the bamf fenton parents route#i still wanna do the other one with more eepy danny#but as always i am controlled by my muse#not the other way around
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The Amazing Toybox Circus!
A storybook - Part 1
Once upon a time, there was a very old toy shop.
An unremarkable sort of place with very few visitors. The shelves were lined with antique curiosities which had collected dust over the years.
Among these, atop a colorful wooden toy chest, was a simple kaleidoscope. It was inscribed with a strange design of teeth and eyes, and a poem about a magical circus.
...
Now, one might imagine the type of person would walk into such a place. Perhaps someone who has worked far too hard. Someone who feels unsatisfied with the tedium of every day life, and who longs for an escape into the fantastical world of imagination that playthings can inspire. This sort of person might look through a kaleidoscope and dream, just for a moment, of a new life filled with bright color, of fun and adventure.
This was the sort of person who suddenly woke up on the floor, surrounded by darkness and extremely confused.
Feeling dizzy and thoughts hazy, she righted herself and began to wander. A soft jingling noise followed her with every step, though she paid it no mind. There were more pressing issues at the moment.
She strained her mind trying to remember how she could have possibly ended up here. She clearly remembered entering a toy shop, but her thoughts beyond this were blank besides a vivid image of swirling colors. Red and blue spirals. All she knew at the moment was that she felt terribly afraid, and very very small.
Timidly, she called out-
"HELLO, MY NEWEST SUPERSTAR!"
An enormous wooden ventriloquist dummy suddenly burst from the shadows. His painted eyes gleamed, one blue, one green. His wooden teeth chattered as he loomed overhead. He pulled a white balloon on a string, which sported an equally large toothy grin.
The sight was positively terrifying.
"Welcome to the amazing toybox circus!"
"The ... the toybox what?" She squeaked in response.
"Why, the toybox circus of course! You're sure to have a grand time, my dear! " She was suddenly lifted up to meet his unsettling wooden gaze.
"My name is Caine! I'm your ringmaster," he continued at an unnecessarily loud volume.
"My dear, you've entered a wonderful world of whimsy and adventure, where anything can happen! Soon you'll meet your new friends and we shall put on a show!"
He spun her around before setting her down on the floor again.
The girl was speechless. Be part of a circus? Led by a talking puppet? Surely this was all a strange dream!
"I'm sorry, sir," she eventually said, somehow managing to speak politely considering the circumstances. "But I really must be getting home! If you'd kindly show me the way-"
"Oh but you simply must stay for the performance, my dear! I've prepared all sorts of activities that are sure to delight! Oh the audience will love you! You shall be the star attraction!"
The puppet was very insistent. At a loss, the girl considered her options were either to continue wandering the darkness or to trust this "ringmaster". Now she was an intelligent young lady, but she was also a curious sort. After all, curiosity was what brought her here in the first place, and curiosity compelled her to see what would happen next...
So despite better judgement, she finally said -
Hesitant but hopeful. Perhaps this would be interesting? At the very least, she could play along until finding a way out of this strange place, out of the toyshop and back home. Or until she woke up, as this was likely a dream after all.
"At any rate, this may be fun," she hoped out loud.
Something cackled from atop a large shelf. The silhouette was that of a rabbit, but with a wide yellow grin.
"Heh HEH! You'll soon see, little clown," he said, before hopping out of sight.
What an odd place this was...
----part 2 coming soon!
#the amazing digital circus#tadc#pomni#caine#jax#tadc au#toybox circus#my art#theres a lot of Alice in wonderland here
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— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ leaning on you ˚ ༘✶ ⋆。˚ ⁀➷
read other parts first!!! : part 1 — part 2
pairing: lee know x reader
summary: you somehow managed to cross the line with your bunny, can it be pleasurable for the both of you?
tags: 「NSFW! 18+ only! smut | hybrid!lee know | referring to lee know as minho | hybrid wanting to mate | needy!lee know makes a return | humping/thighjob | nipple play | unprotected sex (i dont condone!) | anal | orgasms for both^^ | cuddles are here i promise | reader has no gender」
word count: 2.5k
a/n: hello! i severely apologize to all of you who have been waiting for this part to come out :( ive been struggling to find time to continue to write, and the motivation with it... but here it is! seriously... i can't explain how much i appreciate all of the love you guys have given to my stories♡ im so happy you guys love bunny lee know so much! i also wanted to keep this as neutral as possible regarding the reader (hence the anal) but you can switch it out in your imagination! (i wanted to have all readers to be able to enjoy!) also this is my first smut story being uploaded... i hope you guys have a good read><!!!~
(special shoutout to @omgsecretsecret for helping me edit this part♡)
+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions
"so do bunnies like you experience everything a human should?"
you didn't know why your mind was drifting towards this direction. for as long as you had minho in your house, you were sure your relationship would be 100% platonic. he was adorable as hell, eased your mind whenever any worries came to you, and was always there by your side. did that give you clearance to make a move on him? you didn't want to ruin the perfect relationship you two had, but you have needs, and you were wondering if he had the ability to share those same needs.
minho paused for a moment, sitting oddly still while you sat above him. you were sitting on the edge of your bed, playing with his hair while he sat on the floor with his head leaning against the mattress. his head was almost at a distance where you could press your thighs against each side of his face, but you resisted enough so the lingering thoughts of teasing him went away.
he turned around briefly to face you, "what do you mean by 'everything'?"
your face began to flush after you realized how insensitive your question could've been.
"not to pry or anything but... aren't bunnies known for... having a high sex drive?" you spat out quickly before your confidence faded away.
his eyes widened, this is the first time youve seen him this shocked at your words. he was too shocked to even reply to you, not that he had anything ready in his mind. you could feel his presence tense up and you wanted to steer clear of whatever dirty path your mind seemed to wander on. he didn't say anything and just turned back around, finally leaning into your thigh. he wrapped one arm around your leg, feeling your cool skin calming down his burning face. having him so close to you when you wanted to run away in shame felt strange. you were always used to being close to minho, but the sudden affection, especially after that moment, was out of place. your leg started to warm up because of his face. starting to relax a bit, you realized that it wasn't the right time to head across that line.
you smiled and started to play with his hair again, looping each little section around your finger into curls. they eventually sprung back to its natural shape once you let go. minho loved this time with you, when all you did was leave your worries for that day and focused on him. it was his favorite thing to do while being with you. he still carried the thought in his mind, 'maybe something would happen during my need for mating'. only time could tell the new moments you two would experience together.
during the late night, you and minho were cuddling in bed. it wasn't strange for the both of you anymore. you knew that minho felt more comfortable knowing that you kept him safe. cuddling with him was the least you could do to comfort him.
this night felt different though. the question you asked earlier felt like a reach into unwanted territories. you wanted him to expand on his feelings, but at the end of the day he was a shy bunny who got flustered easier than you thought.
unsure of your next thoughts, you closed your eyes and tried your best to go to sleep as soon as you could. feeling rustling from behind you, minho's presence inched closer to you. the movement didn't stop, you could feel him shaking now. was it too cold in the room? you stayed as still as possible, trying to make out the noise coming from him. he was whimpering softly, almost like he needed something desperately.
"m-minho?"
you turned around to face him, tears were welling up in his eyes. he was clearly distraught about something but you had no clue what happened. your heart sank, was it because of the invasive conversation from earlier?
he sniffed softly, trying to make out words but ultimately getting choked up.
"i... i need..."
his eyes glanced down to the bottom half of his body. tentatively scanning his body as to what he was trying to point out, the last and most obvious thing you noticed was a slight twitch coming from his crotch, the cloth sticking up as well.
'fuck... is this really happening?' you thought to yourself. you managed to repress and bury all the inappropriate thoughts you had about minho, but he was about to fuel it once again. his face was as pink as ever, in desperate need for your warm touch.
"is this what i think it is?"
"mating tendencies... yeah... i-ive never experienced it while being human, i dont know if it will feel the same. but i r-really need..."
he was huffing between words, stuttering as well.
"let me think for a second."
you turned facing away from him. rubbing your thighs together, trying to hold back the good aching feeling rising within, you couldn't help but panic for a second. would you help him out because he's in pain and needs to relieve himself? how would this moment affect your relationship moving forward? would it be a normal occurrence, or only during his need to mate? would it be better to just ignore it and try hold on to whatever you two had going on when you first met?
your rushing thoughts were interrupted by something warm, sticky, and hard. something poking at your thighs, trying to squeeze itself in between.
you couldn't help but let out a small yelp. that feeling began to rise in you. there was no way things were going back to how they used to be. the movement kept progressing, you glanced down in front of yourself to find the head of minho's cock against your thighs. you wanted nothing more than to take him, take his body, and pleasure the both of you were bound to have.
"minho please.." you reached down towards his cock, ready to progress. he misunderstood and took it as you wanting to stop. he pulled away, hesitantly, already missing the softness of your thighs.
"mm sorry... i j-just need.."
"hey," you turned around slightly to grab his face. you flashed him a small grin, making sure he didn't feel guilty for acting this way around you. "it's okay."
a tear started to stream down one side of his face. your reassurance made him slide himself back in between your thighs. you wondered how it was possible for it to feel so good on your bare skin. you had shorts on but it all of a sudden became more hot under the blankets. your thighs were coated in a thin layer of his precum. he gripped onto your body for a better stroke pattern.
sweet little moans erupted from behind you. minho was the one engulfing your body with his tall stature against you. however, you felt like you were in charge at the moment. letting your sweet bunny try and cum from your body was more than enough for you to start to get horny yourself.
slipping a hand under your shirt, you began to play with your nipples slowly. you shut your eyes and leaned more into minho's chest, hoping that he wouldn't catch you in the act. sweet little huffs turned into loud groans, he was in a trance and he hadn't even started to properly explore your body. he had ultimately noticed you leaning more into him, even arching your back. he wanted you to feel comfortable and not worry as much about trying to relieve yourself on your own. although you were the one trying to help him, he wanted to be the one to help you with your release too.
"let me.. please?" he said while placing his hand on top of yours, wanting to take your place on your chest. you moved your hand down in defeat, it was impossible to say no to him. his hands felt warm on your bare skin. swirling his fingers around you and occasionally pulling, your nipples hardened more and more. your breath started to get unsteady as you wanted more. shivers ran throughout your whole body.
gently breaking the contact of his cock and your thighs, you turned your whole body around to face him. you locked eyes with him and all the guilt and doubts you had in your mind about you two went away. his cock began to twitch at the loss of warmth. you suddenly placed your hand on him, slowly stroking and gliding on him, your hand becoming a sticky mess. he let out a strong huff and tilted his head back. you both were seeing stars. minho was unable to fathom that you were finally touching him, taking in all the strength to not cum right then and there. you were also shocked at how good you felt. seeing his reaction made you more comfortable and ready to move further.
grabbing your face with both hands, he placed a passionate, wet kiss on your lips. his tongue was determined and he kept moving his mouth in ways that sent you to heaven. pulling away to see your reaction, he smiled, "im still all yours, remember?" his voice just became more sexy to you than ever. you quickly locked lips with him again, smiling through it all. his lips were soft and plump from all the action, he bit the bottom of your lip to signal he needed some air. both of you sharing the same blushing expression.
he tried to drag your body back around but ultimately needed assistance. helping him out, you turned around immediately. sticking your ass out on his bare cock, you moved your hips up and down. minho was at his breaking point. he nudged his mouth near your ear, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down. "please? let me put it in... i need to feel you.." his breath was hot and low on your ear. you were surprised you hadn't melted into a puddle yet.
you didn't say anything. you were too drunk off of the bliss feeling lingering throughout your whole body. you placed a hand on top of his that was resting on your hip. he took that as a sign to start.
not a second to waste, he lodged his entire length into your ass, letting out a deep moan into your ear. you arched your back more and almost choked up on the intense yelp you let out. he filled you up so good, it barely hurt from all the precum he was dripping with. he also took his time on the first stroke, pulling out his length so you knew how its absence would feel. you squeezed his hand, wanting more.
he slowly stroked back in, his high coming back harder this time. you felt like your heart was going to explode. his slow rhythm became more loud and sloppy, the wetness spreading throughout your bodies. syncing your moans with each pump, you instinctively rolled your tongue to hang out and pant more. you wanted this feeling to last for as long as possible.
the pace began to increase, and minho wasn't holding back on his moans. this whole time he was in his human form, but this much work was bound to make him change. you didn't notice at first, but his bunny ears appeared and drooped down, gently caressing your face. being in his hybrid form made him more bunny like, it made him go faster. the rhythm was so irresistible, it was fast but gentle, hitting you in all the right places. you felt yourself being filled with more fluid, gliding himself became easier than before.
he held onto your body even closer and tighter. minho started to felt bad about involving you in this situation, but you did want to be closer to him in this way. he wanted to make sure you felt satisfied, so he held himself back and focused the pleasure going to you. the final stretch of your rising heat and the steady rhythm snapped you out of your trance.
"s-slower, please minh-ho," you whined out. you couldn't tell, but he began to smirk at the way his name sounded in that tone. it drove him crazy, the fact that he was actually making you a complete mess. you wanted to savor this addictive feeling, but the slower strokes made your body greedy.
it all came rushing in at once, you let out one last yelp as you rode through your high. minho helped you by holding on to your shaking body.
the sight of your worn body filled himself with so much pride, he was shocked that he hadn't came yet. "did that feel good?" his voice was low and velvety in your ears again.
"y-yes," you managed to whisper out. still sensitive, you could feel him twitching around your walls, which made you choke slightly between breaths. he was trying his best not to move too much, but his body wasn't on his side.
you wanted to help him, but first you needed to recover. he moved his head to your neck, slowly sucking and kissing around to make sure you were okay. his sweet behavior was very calming, especially after the first orgasm you experienced with him.
"dont you want to cum too?" your question snapped him back to the situation at hand.
"can i?"
you nodded lazily, about to doze off at any minute. however, minho was quick to return to his rough pace, making your eyes steady again. he buried his head back onto you, acting like the shy bunny you knew too. the deeper and harder he pumped, he suddenly whispered a quick 'fuck' under his breath, pulling out of you. he grabbed his dick and painted your ass with his warm, thick cum.
it was beautiful, seeing how happy he was to finally get his first orgasm as a human. he pressed his body up against you, getting all the cum and sweat on his body as well. he didn't mind it though, he was too tired to clean up.
he looked drained, you noticed the beads of sweat all over his face and body. he was glistening with a new aura, and he looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. he still managed to give you a crooked smile, letting you know it was a good experience. you started to get flustered, even though you two just experienced the most intimate action ever.
you changed your position, letting your face sit on his chest. you buried and hid your red face from him. he gently reached up to pet your head, soothing you to sleep.
waking up to minho distanced away, you couldn't help but pull him back into a cuddle. he had quickly turned back into his bunny form to recharge from the actions that took place last night. he didn't flinch at all from the movement, he just slowed his breathing down as he was surrounded by a sudden warmth. you couldn't help but feel a little sorry about the sacrifice he took today. you pet his body slowly, kissing his head gently. you wanted to apologize for the state he was in now, but he was the one who made sure that it was okay to go through with in the first place.
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© nmn-yty ★ 7.15.2024
#pics are not mine!#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#lee minho#lee minho smut#lee minho x reader#lee minho imagines#lee know#lee know smut#lee know x reader#lee know imagines#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kpop x reader#hybrid smut#skz smut#skz x reader#skz imagines#ohmygod im so scared
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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru
gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)
content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)
author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.
this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
“so… let me get this straight.”
“go ahead.”
shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”
“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”
“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.
“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”
“do you… do you share any classes with him?”
“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”
“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.
all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.
it’s hard to forget about gojo.
not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…
...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.
the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.
“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”
speak of the devil.
there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.
you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.
“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”
what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.
you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.
pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-
“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”
“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”
your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.
“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”
“what did you just call me?!-”
“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”
“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.
“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”
“how could i not? you’re so cute.”
“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”
the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.
he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.
when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”
he’s relentless. “why do you care?”
“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”
you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”
“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“
“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.
some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.
“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.
“i don’t need your money…”
“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.
“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”
that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”
“do you promise? like, actually?”
“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.
“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.
“i also want your number.”
you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.
“what do you have me saved as?”
the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.
you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.
“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“
“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”
“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“
“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”
“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.
“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.
he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.
“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“
the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.
from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.
gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.
you push him away.
everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.
you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.
and that thought alone scares you.
still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.
the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.
“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”
“satoru-“
“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it���s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.
“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”
you take back everything you just said.
a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.
you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”
he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”
“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”
“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.
“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.
you try to ignore how that makes you feel.
and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.
you’re in love with gojo satoru.
and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.
and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.
you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.
the reason why you want to stick around too.
you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”
“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.
you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.
it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.
you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.
it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.
shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.
the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.
it was your ex.
your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.
if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.
you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.
out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.
“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.
“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.
“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”
you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.
“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”
your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”
“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”
“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.
you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.
you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.
the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.
“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”
you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”
“oh, don’t even get me started.”
he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”
“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”
he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”
“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.
the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”
you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”
“kento nanami.”
“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”
“i’m just doing my job.”
“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”
“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”
“y/n l/n.”
“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”
“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”
“did something happen?”
“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”
“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”
he gets to the cafe in five.
you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.
it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.
however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”
your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.
“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”
“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.
“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.
“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.
“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.
you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”
still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.
i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.
“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”
that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.
the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?
“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”
“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.
“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”
“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”
“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”
you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“
“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.
“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”
“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.
“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”
he cuts you off. “you… what?”
you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.
“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.
this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.
“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.
you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”
gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.
a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.
“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”
he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”
“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i���ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.
“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”
he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”
“i love you, y/n.”
“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.
he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.
“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.
“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.
gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”
“hmph. alright.”
“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”
“satoru!”
“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”
this night is going amazing.
when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.
“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.
it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.
“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.
“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.
“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.
“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”
“oh? do tell.”
“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”
“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.
“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”
“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”
“hey, i wanted to know more!-”
“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”
“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.
suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”
“duh. it’s a classic.”
“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.
suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”
satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”
you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”
he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”
“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.
you wish you never did.
you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.
on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.
fuck.
you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.
what bullshit that was.
your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.
so you do.
you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.
of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.
stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.
when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?
he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.
he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.
they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”
“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.
“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”
he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”
“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”
geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.
“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.
gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.
part 2 :)
#kami writes#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru angst#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru comfort#gojo x reader angst#gojo angst#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x y/n
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This Halloween | Yandere SatoSugu
“Hi, gorgeous! Surprised to see me here?”
“Don’t cry, (Y/n). We were never going to kill you.”
The reveal that the small town’s biggest menace was your friends Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. To think that the golden boys of Jujutsu High who were dating two of the victims were hanging off one another in their bloodied costumes. Smiles wider than they’d ever been with their supposed partners, the reality sinking made the bile rise in your throat.
Thinking about your meditation you close your eyes. The smell of partygoers rotting all over the small beach house fills your nose. The sound of the back screen door bumping against the frame as the beach breeze goes in and out with the tide surging outside. The taste of pennies filled your mouth as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. The twitch of your fingers awkwardly hovered in front of your chest as they flexed in and out. On top of your breathing didn’t calm you as much as it usually did.
“(Y/n) did you hear what I said?”
The voice of Suguru somehow made it past the warbled sound of absolute confusion that clouded your brain. The leather glove lightly held your left hand as he slowly came closer to you’re shivering state. Those brown eyes looking so deeply into your own, it felt wrong to look away.
“All you have to do is say we left early.”
You opened your mouth to ask but the growing sound of sirens stopped you. Gojo was the first to let out a curse, giggling about running away. He shook his raven-haired partner who hushed him with an amused smile, turning back to you.
“You can do that for me can’t you Dove?”
The duo left out the back. That screen door screeched as they ran through it; returning to bang against the frame angrily. Its aggressive banging triggered an all-new set of shivers to wrack your body, causing you to fall to the floor. Closing your eyes you try to level yourself again but the sound of your own heartbeat is deafening and the eyes of your best friend pleading with you.
It will haunt you forever.
The sight of Detective Choso brought an uncomfortable pit into your stomach. The man you’d met years ago in another city–your city, with his hair down and his eyes had bags like a masked vigilante.
“He’s out.”
The news didn’t scare you. Not as it should have. Many may find it strange to know you dreamt about serial killers on death row. But it warned you. Prepared you for the day you’d need to run as far as possible from anything you knew. On the anniversary of that day no less.
“What’s the plan?”
The detective pursed his lip and his eyes wandered. His feet, running the flat of his oxfords on the carpet of the entrance to your apartment. The silent scratch of the wool under his shoe irritated you almost as much as his request.
“We wanted to lure him out. Will you—”
He didn’t need to finish before the door was slammed in his face, pushing him back into the apartment hallway. Choso groaned to himself, the situation's futility ebbing at his already short patience. He calmly knocked on the door again.
A muffled, “Go away!”
He sighed, lightly banging his head on the rusted number of the apartment. With his ear so close to the door he could hear the receding footsteps and the mumbled curses directed at him. He looked down the hall making eye contact with the local department’s plant taking out the trash. He didn’t feel completely terrible leaving when there was a guard there, making a note to try again in 24 hours.
“I’ll be back.”
It was meant to be assuring but Choso worried it came off threatening as heard a defiant thump on the opposite side of the door. Resisting the urge to sigh again Choso turned tail, making his way to the elevator. Pulling out his phone he scrolled through his contacts, landing on the name: Idiot surrounded by blue hearts.
Holding the phone at his waist he timed the ringing until he heard said idiot singing out a ‘hello.’ Only then did he bring the phone to his ear and respond.
“The eggs secured and it’s staying in the next. How’s the snake?”
_____________________________________________________________
Gojo Satoru finished his lecture with a grand gesture as though he had finished giving a presentation. When in fact, he’d pressed play on the school’s TV the second his students got in their seats. Maybe in the back of his mind, he’d thought to make himself look better for the detective standing just outside the classroom. Even though they both knew it didn’t matter.
“I appreciate you waiting until the kids were outta the classroom. Wouldn’t want to explain to the parents why the police were in their school.”
The white-haired teacher spoke so cheerfully, that his familiarity with the detective might have seemed positive. The detective wasted no time calling their partners in; the stout one stood at the door while the taller one pulled at the blinds of the classroom. With the classroom darkened and the school slowly emptying the head detective decided to speak. Making a dramatic move of pulling a voice recorder out of his pocket he held it up as he asked his question.
“Where were you the night of October 7th?”
Gojo sat on his desk, kicking his feet as he mockingly thought hard. He pretended to put his fingers to his temple as though that would provide answers. The detective associates sneered at the childish display.
“Hm on the night of October let me see–”
The man trailed off as he reached over his desk, pulling a calendar out of a drawer. Flipping through it he animatedly pointed his index at the circled date on the calendar.
Smiling up at the detective Gojo exclaimed, “The anniversary of those horrible murders? Well, I was grieving over the victims by grading my kiddies homework.”
The detective snatched the calendar from him, letting his eyes glaze over the marked paper. Confirming the statement, he tossed the calendar back to him.
“Can anyone confirm this statement?”
Gojo let out a playful whine in annoyance as he dramatically flung back on his desk. The detective and their bodyguards all flinched at the large movement, hands hovering over the fire-arms tucked under their coats and at their belts..
“It’s always evidence with you guys, geez. I have it on the calendar, I never left my house you can ask my neighbors about that.”
“Your neighbors all live three kilometers away from you, That’s not an option.”
“So critical. If I personally broke out some poor inmate on death row do you really think I would have let you just walk into my space like this?”
The question had the detective hovering over their weapon again. Gauging the posture of the white-haired man who was only smirking in their direction with an unsetting nonchalance. The pause that ensued allowed the detectives to reluctantly let their hands drift from their weapons as the sound of multiple chattering students hurriedly approached the empty classroom. The door previously closed swung open to reveal Gojo’s most loyal student–a pink-haired teen leading the charge.
“Teacher! Did you see my post?”
With that smug persisting smirk on his face, Gojo turns his head feigning surprise.
“Unfortunately no. I was too busy talking with these old friends of mine. What’s up?”
“Dude! The police are totally raiding your place!”
The teen turned his phone around to reveal a short video of police and armored vehicles surrounding the luxurious Gojo estate. Plenty of onlookers also recorded the unnatural phenomenon for the typically small town. Granted the amount of paparazzi that constantly come in and out of the town to film anything they can on the Gojo head wasn’t all that rare, but the authorities looking so closely was. And like everything in this town, it was all anyone would talk about for months.
“Well, Detective Mahito am I under arrest?”
The long-haired detective sent a look to his partners and the curious teens absorbing the situation. Coming to a decision he openly hovered his hand over his weapon.
“You are not under arrest but for your safety, you need to come with us.”
Of course, there was a video preceding this of the beloved teacher being escorted into an unmarked vehicle and the students behind the camera being shooed away as it drove off. With all the interested eyes on this case, it almost felt impossible that anything would slip under the radar of millions of curious eyes.
_____________________________________________________________
(Y/n) remembered the way the couple went public with one another. After the tragedy that ensued at the annual Hallow’s Eve party, it was of minor shock that the two golden boys of the high school found solace in one another. Everyone chalked it up to the bonding of trauma after both lost their girlfriends.
“I just found that no one could relate like he can.”
You heard the reasoning in passing, always around the surrounding crowds curious about the latest scoop on the survivors of the Hallow’s Eve tragedy. No doubt some of them will have turned around to tell the outlets interested in the story as well while others would theorize about the identity of the masked killer.
“Maybe it was them!”
“Yeah, what a defense! ‘I don’t talk anymore after what I’ve seen!’ As if!”
The nauseating feeling would eventually go away but the pressure was suffocating then. Haunting your mind with their echoed speculations and the image of your dead friends. What’s worse was the killers so happily parading their sorrowed expressions along the halls. Accepting the gift baskets and surface-level condolences without an ounce of suspicion. The feeling of your hair raising along your skin when one of them mocked their sympathy towards you.
“Don’t be so hard on them, they’ve seen things no one should have to see.”
The constant threat of tears was a reoccurring pain, as you replayed the events of that party. It was never to be soothed by the couple who’d spend their free time pestering you. Often leaving quickly thereafter to repeat their sick game.
“Just keep quiet, Dove. We were here the whole time after all.”
“Yup, and to prove it we’ll take a picture. Don’t tell anyone okay?”
You couldn’t bare listening to them any longer.
______________________________________________________________
Conveniently the press that did have your new contact information weren’t as insistent as before. Quietly asking for a comment on the criminal notoriously associated with Hallow’s Eve murders. After all the rumored victim of the killer was recently detained, surely as the witness that convicted the killer to death row you’d have something to say. You kept quiet. Deleting emails and hanging up phone calls from unidentified numbers, solely focused on getting to your plane on time.
“I’m so sorry but all commercial planes have been grounded for the foreseeable future.”
Like glass breaking at the perfectly angled rock, you started to crack.
“What. Do. You. Mean?”
This poor employee didn’t deserve your wrath but she also wasn’t betting on this plane to save her life. She’d nervously stutter and stumble over her words as she denied every out or once of compensation to make this any better.
“There may be some private planes but those are in incredibly high demand–”
“I’ll go! I don’t care how much just tell me where!”
She seemed reluctant to say but she still told you. Maybe it was because she felt bad, seeing someone so desperate to get away or maybe it was because you were inches from her face. Either way, you were on the tarmac within the hour, along with a few others desperate enough to pay privately. Only to be crestfallen when you arrived at the staircase to enter the plane; letting the other exasperated passengers pass by your still form.
“May I help you with your bags?”
An attendant, with a shining smile and neatly pressed uniform with the plane’s company proudly pressed right above his heart. Greeting you with nothing but an offer to help; you cursed the involuntary reaction to vomit.
“Are all…the private planes available…from this private airline?”
You tried to keep the tremor in your voice to a minimum as you nervously wrung your hands around the handles of your bag.
The attendant—none the wiser—smiled and gestured to the other planes lining up the tarmac with rows of people.
“Yes, they are. Gojo Airlines is offering a discount during these trying times–”
He kept talking but you weren’t listening. Turning around to leave, ignoring the airport security and the attendants who were preparing to let you onto the plane. It meant nothing to you for the beating of your heart and your panicked breathing is all you can hear. When you finally waved down a taxi, you quickly dialed a familiar number.
“He knows.”
______________________________________________________________
Detective Jogo looked nervously at the contact of his partner miles away. Since the week that their missing subject committed the grand massacre, he was infamous for. Because of the nature of the parties involved, he was strictly instructed to not call unless absolutely necessary considering they suspected their phones were compromised.
“You eat yet?”
The question came with a warm bagel and a cup of coffee. Held over his seated form by the burly officer Hanami; coming from the breakroom on the other side of the station. For the first two weeks, it was just following the heir around. But with the inmate scheduled for death row at large and another anniversary coming up, it was decided they’d move the heir into one of their holding cells. Of course, it was lavished with furniture and decorations all chosen by the illustrious Gojo Satoru. He did whine when they demanded to inspect and bug his phone and laptop but the station was taking no chances when it came to this specific case.
The rumors were enough too.
“Have you checked on him within the last few hours?”
Hanami tilted her head looking at the one-way glass of the blue-eyed witness pacing casually in the fortified room. From the glimpses that Jogo got from his chair across the room, their witness was unusually chipper. The days they spent guarding him throughout the day were incredibly boring; temporarily leaving his job as a teacher to gallivant around a hotel of his choosing didn’t make it better. Throughout those weeks Gojo had subjected the team to an aggravating amount of chatter—none of it helpful or even worth repeating. Detective Mahito was plenty great at keeping up but Jogo and Hanami opted for alternating earplugs. Even with the earplugs in he could pick out the strong hints of annoyance bubbling underneath his wide smile and piercing gaze.
The change unnerved him. Especially with the rumors circulating around this specific witness.
“Didn’t want to besides I’m watching from the camera.”
Blunt and unforgiving Jogo wouldn’t expect anything more from the officer. It didn’t put him at ease.
“Where’s Mahito? Still investigating that place?”
If it was possible Hanami’s apathetic expression tightened, her brows knitting at the thought.
“Yes. Last he called all the evidence had been scrubbed and all we can hope now is that they forgot something we could use.”
Jogo sucked his teeth in shared annoyance. The rumor he was dreading was more like an undisclosed fact. The true masterminds behind the Halloween Massacre were both Gojo Satoru and the death row inmate Suguru Geto. The files say the Gojo family lawyer fought hard for the heir; effectively blaming it all on Suguru Geto. With prints, hair, witness testimony, and photographic evidence all on the heir they were able to plead for coercion by malicious manipulation. Getting their heir off and painting his partner in crime to be a greater threat than he. The whole fiasco of the jewel of the Gojo clan being involved made the whole case a living nightmare, that their superior Choso Kamo rose to fame with. By finally encouraging the only witness with viable evidence to testify Suguru Geto was sentenced to death row. And through expert lawyers mysteriously hired, he remained waiting for years.
Choso, before he left to guard the witness, believed it wasn’t just an escape attempt but a chance for the killers to tie everything up. Destroy the evidence, stop the search for the death row inmate, exact revenge on all who participated in the case, and reunite with their loved ones by the end of Halloween.
Of course, it was their best detective leaving to protect the witness who was in the most danger. Leaving his underlings—Mahito and Jogo to keep them on the pulse of the case and their eyes on the man believed to get off scot-free.
If it weren’t for him knowing Choso cared so much for this specific witness; he would have thought he was leaving them the rough side of this mission. He knew the hardened detective could be a compassionate man–a hard thing to retain in this line of work.
Jogo huffed taking a sip of his coffee,” I hope he’s having a better time than we.”
Hanami made a grunt of agreement before returning to the hall to stare at the monitors she had been for the past couple of days. He would have offered to switch if he didn’t think he thought this pit in his stomach could be resolved.
The 40-year-old detective stood from his seat. Careful to nurse the leg he’d fractured from two cases ago. He took his uneaten bagel, noting it retained some of its heat. He headed to the holding cell. Sending a look to the guard at his station, a buzzer rang and the door unlocked. With the final swipe of his keycard, he let himself into the semi-messy room. The culprit was sitting on his bed, a smile still on his smug little face.
“Hungry?”
Those cerulean eyes weren’t on him the second he came in, instead looking at the clock left graciously in the upper corner of the room. Nor did they flicker when Jogo asked his question. The disrespect made the Detective’s eyebrows twitch as he kept his hand holding the bagel.
“I’m not going to eat your leftovers, old man.”
“Not good enough for you!? Not up to your snobby standards,” was what Jogo wanted to say but he didn’t need to get kicked off this case for suspected bias. It didn’t help that the man still wasn’t looking at him, laughing to himself as though Jogo told the funniest joke.
“Have you eaten anything today?”
Jogo was trying. He really was.
“Nope, but I’ll eat later today.”
Jogo loosened up,” Have any idea what you want?”
The Gojo heir’s smile didn’t compare to the smirk he had on before. His smile practically reached his ears and those haunting eyes staring right through Jogo, “All of your livers.”
“What?!”
The suspect wasn’t speaking anymore and Jogo’s phone was ringing.
Jogo had a decision to make. Answer the call or make sure he just heard what he did.
“You should answer that. He might never call again.”
Despite his better judgment, Jogo pulls out his phone, seeing the name of his fellow detective and the goofy photo they took on his phone. Another look at the white-haired man and he answered the call. Immediately his ears were assaulted with the sounds of wood crackling; the unnatural sound made his mind piece together what was happening.
“I-it’s a trap!” the tearful voice of Mahito rings the loudest. Jogo almost doesn’t want to speak as if that would make what he heard go away. “G-get out–”
The sound of something large falling and the frantic screaming from either the detective or some other poor soul being abruptly cut off. Punctuated by the phone call ending.
Jogo couldn’t take it anymore throwing his phone aside to reel his fist back to punch the chuckling man in the face. Prepared to fight against the guards that would be arriving any second he aimed with urgency. He was certain he’d have time to get in one. One good hit to the face of the man responsible for the chance that his partner might be dead.
“Did you really think I’d just let that happen? That’s cute.”
Jogo’s fist was easily captured by Gojo’s hand, a careless gesture strong enough to keep the shaking fist static and far from its intended target. Unnerved by that restraint the detective launched his other fist only for it to receive the same treatment. Pushing with all his might Jogo–in the split seconds of any fight—found himself at an impasse. Figuring if both his fists were being thwarted he’d go to the next best thing–his legs. Cursing the ache he’d have later he aimed to kick the heir in the gut.
“But not that cute.”
The quip was a warning barely processed as Gojo caught the man off-guard, releasing his fists to latch onto the outstretched leg. Gripping the ankle of the old man swung the body of the detective into the one-way glass. It crackled under his weight bursting with shards of glass as the stout man rolled past the curious guard’s post.
Jogo didn’t feel like he could get up but he did watching the blue-eyed man let himself out of the holding cell, a stolen I.D. being twirled in his hands. He didn’t need the guard to let him out, outright kicking the metal door until it flew off its hinges. Of course, the guards in the room moved with a taser and baton in hand.
“You guys are so dramatic! How about you go out begging then maybe I won’t make you suffer.”
The guards didn’t bother responding to the one with the baton going first. Swinging from above any normal man could barely manage to dodge but Gojo was by no means normal. He easily sidestepped the baton using the downward stroke of the officer to grab at his neck. At speeds, Jogo couldn’t comprehend the officer’s head was facing the opposite direction. Even worse they weren’t dead their eyes darting around as they tried to scream—making a gargled plea instead. The one with the taser barely had time to fire, missing the dodging assailant who easily grabbed the coils beaming with electricity to pull the gun from the guard's shaking hands. Defeated with a hand slicing toward their exposed neck also making the man gurgle as he fell to the floor.
“Now what was it we were talking about?”
The question was directed to Jogo and the pain paralyzed him to the floor. Helplessly watching as Gojo slowly walked closer. The old man’s eyes darted nervously around searching for anything to use. His thoughts raged with an all-manner of possibilities running through his mind there was one tool bound to stop the incredibly durable heir. His gun. Jogo took great care to not let this realization be made. Planning to only reveal this when he needed which would be soon, judging by the way Gojo was cracking his knuckles.
“About how this was all planned by you?”
Jogo was stalling but it didn’t seem Gojo was listening. The heir tapped his foot impatiently against the floor as he looked annoyed at the aching detective.
“Are you done because otherwise, I’m just going to end–”
In a large flash of blue, the heir stood back just barely dodging the hurling form of Hanami. Using her natural height against him she aimed a violent punch into the ground, cracking the concrete the heir was standing over just a moment before sidestepping. Jogo felt his heart lift, who greater to fight alongside than Hanami—the human tank with punches as strong as steel. Surely now they had a chance.
Jogo pulled out his gun aiming at the dodging heir. Waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger and finally end the menace that got to run free.
“This really was fun but I’m tired of this place.” The declaration sounded petulant like a child,” and I’m tired of you.”
Almost in annunciation a pale hand shot through the chest of Officer Hanami–the human tank stopping her assault to look down at the hand pulling out of her. Before Gojo’s bloodied hand could leave a spray of her blood dousing her face and eyes. Fear-filled eyes watched his partner struggle as a waterfall of viscous carnage poured out of her baffled mouth.
Through the tears growing in his eyes, Jogo fired his gun.
Over a year spent in the police academy and being a rookie in the small town. To a supervisor to a junior detective who humbled himself to learn the young genius detective. More than certain his aim was true, he collapsed into himself. The weight of both his partners, his friends dead when just hours ago they were as lively as ever.
Thankful that the beast responsible was gone.
“Glad you came I was just about ready to clean up myself.”
The monster he thought he’d defeated was standing above him casually calling out to another down the hall. Whoever this was holding a disembodied arm and was casually walking in the halls surrounded by bloody remains of the investigative team.
As frightening as it was to revel in the new threat having gotten past security and was brutal enough to be carrying the limbs of his coworkers. But it didn’t take away from the horror of realizing his gun never did go off. Instead, his gun was squished with the bloodied hands of Gojo Satrou, who sent one last disgusted look in his direction before dropping the disfigured gun in his lap.
“I told you, I had it under control.”
“Whatever you say ‘kuna.”
“Don’t call me that. Now go on get to your ‘date.’”
If Gojo had taken the talons he called fingers and torn out Jogo’s heart it would have been better than recognizing the pink-haired, tattooed man, covered in blood. To think he’d have the privilege to die near the detective-turned-mercenary Ryomen Sukuna. Face ashen and succumbing to his fate, he wistfully watches the white-haired man skip over the carnage of the force. Without so much of a glance, the Gojo Satoru had taken everything from him in a matter of minutes.
The only thing he did have left was doomed to be gone soon.
“You ready to fight to your death?”
An idol asking a question worthy of someone who wasn’t likely paralyzed by merely being thrown through a window and failing to shoot the man responsible for the destruction of an effort to maintain justice no matter who the suspect is. There was only one thing he could say as Sukuna awaited his answer.
“Yes. More than ready.”
______________________________________________________________
Today was the day you’d broken your silence all those years ago. Once again traveling with the detective to the far reaches of a rural town far away within the safe confines of a car. It didn’t soothe you in the slightest. From the airport incident, the unnerving shiftiness within your stomach hadn’t settled not like it did when Suguru was finally shipped off to prison and not like when Gojo was sent to a foreign exchange school. It wasn’t over.
“How are you doing?”
The question was worthless but you hadn’t said anything since Choso dignified the plan. A lot was unspoken between you but talking was still necessary.
“Like throwing up. How’s your brother?”
The immediate question was not just a deflection, it was the easiest way to distract the detective. Choso was a proud older brother who at any topic that reminded him of his little brother ensued in long rambles about said brother. It’s a perfect soundtrack to drown your thoughts and avoid playing therapist with the detective you’re effectively running away with.
“Since you asked—”
Seeing the tired straight-faced detective finally begin to smile as he proceeded to rant. It’s a nice change to the gloom you both permeate. You figured you’d help stave it off for a while with some light chatter.
“---and his little friends all look up to him like the natural-born leader he is!”
“He’s in high school now right?”
“He is. He’s actually….” Choso trails off as his smile falls,” he’s actually going to Jujutsu High.”
The name of the familiar school renews the tense atmosphere and with terrifying speed, the synapses of your brain begin to fire off. Suddenly you can guess why Choso insisted the plant stay behind or how he refused the undercover police escort. Or why instead of awkwardly attempting to cheer you up he keeps his tired eyes on the road ahead.
“So the safe house was a lie.”
Choso visibly grimaced, “Not entirely. I wouldn’t give you to them if I wasn’t sure you’d be safe.”
“Them!?”
He dared to look at you out of the corner of his eye.
“I know what they’re after and they’re not going to hurt you.”
You rolled your eyes, “You trusted the serial killers who promised they weren’t going to hurt me?! Gee, what a smart detective you are, let’s blindly trust the guys who have a death wish for me!”
Choso had the nerve to look offended at that. You didn’t bother holding back your glare, anxious to hear the reasoning behind this betrayal. His hands tightening against the wheel told you there was some turmoil—as if that would resolve the bubbling fury that had you debating about taking the wheel and driving you both off the road.
“My partners went back to the place, searching for evidence.” He spared a look towards you as if confirming you’d shrink in on yourself at the mention of that Halloween Night. “It was rigged to explode after they found some evidence. My other partners that were meant to guard him….”
His tired eyes were blinking in a futile effort to hold back tears. Thankfully he had the decent to pull over before clasping his hands over his tired face. With only the light sniveling filling the car, you were forced to remember that night. The fire. The blood. It was all too much. You reached for the handle of the door, pulling at it to get into the open fields Choso pulled in. Only to find the door would not give.
“(Y/n), their funerals will be closed caskets and the cause of death will be chalked to some accident that explains the state of the bodies.”
He was trying to look at you, to get you to look at him. The droplets clouding your vision and the frantic breathing you were trying to regulate weren’t helping. Recognizing your struggling he grasped your hands, holding them the way he did when you first fought to retell the tale that imprisoned one of the most infamous killers to exist. Rubbing his rough thumbs over your knuckles in comforting circles encouraging you to slowly inhale and exhale.
“They did that to the ones they wanted dead for years. They told me, the last thing they wanted to do was harm a hair on your head.”
The tears were running as Choso pulled you into a hug, listening to you blubber about it being a lie.
“I think if they wanted you dead they would have done so by now.”
His assessment was crude but the truth. Deep down underneath the fear and noxious feeling of encountering those two again, there was still disbelief. A part of you that always denied that the friends you’d seen reveal themselves to you would ever think about reducing you to one of their many victims. Perhaps for your sanity, you’ll have to trust in the friends you know. The friends that confided in such a secret all that time ago.
“So your brother…anyone else?”
He knew what you meant and as he lit a cigarette; he answered with a puff.
“The whole town. Practically wiped out the entire workforce with the stunt they pulled.”
He inhaled with a wince, taking in another painful huff. He hated smoking.
“If they did do anything the whole town would be completely at their mercy…”
Reaching into his coat pocket, you pulled out a cigarette for yourself swiping his lighter to enjoy your cancer stick. Both of you fill the inside of the car with your despair, smoking your anxieties into something smaller. Hopefully weaker.
“Well if it’s for your brother and the whole town then I guess it’s a worthy sacrifice.”
Both of you joylessly laughed, taking long pained drags of the sticks—all the while licking at the tears that escaped your blinking eyes. A couple more puffs of smoke were had before Choso pulled back onto the road.
For whatever reason things were lighter as if that would take away to the possibly dangerous future you’d be subjected to.
“When you can, you should take Itadori to see the city. That’ll really change his life.”
“Any places you recommend?”
“Do you want a list?”
It was nice to fill the space with something positive—a rare activity you two partook in after the court case. It was nice to do it one last time.
The drive wasn’t much longer, eventually pulling up to a small neatly painted house with no car in sight, if it weren’t for Choso’s intel you’d have been none the wiser.
As he put the car in park, he looked at you. As sincerely as he’s always done despite visible tiredness in his face. His arm wrapped around yours with a hesitant hand.
“If you really don’t want to do this you don’t have to. You can punch me and we can say you ran off into those cornfields we passed by earlier.”
Mustering a smile as you leaned your head against his chest, “I’ll be fine Choso. Say ‘hi’ to Yuji for me.”
He helped you get your bags, knocking in a specific tune on the door. The door opened and an old woman revealed herself, welcoming you with a warm smile inviting you both inside. You looked to Choso in confusion as you followed closely behind leading you to a parlour filled with hideously dated and flowery decor. She insisted you sit, promising to fix some lemonade for you both.
“Oh, young man can I have your help with this? I’d get it myself if it weren’t so high.”
Choso hurriedly followed after her, sending a look for you to sit and relax.
This felt weird throwing off your expectations for your meeting with the murderous duo. Managing the burden of a fate to come you allowed your hands and eyes to wander. Letting your eyes glaze over with thoughts of how old the intricate wooden end stand is. Playing with the frayed edges of the quilt decoratively draped over the couch. It kept you distracted long enough, finally breaking out when you saw the long and pale hands coming to wrap around your chest. In a perfect world, it would have been Choso being oddly affectionate but these fingers were longer than his, sculpted to the very knuckle to become a living weapon. Accompanied by an inhale against the top of your head the owner of these hands pulled you further against the back of the couch; further pulling you into the warm soft and sturdy chest of a man you’d feared. A curtain of silky black hair much longer than you remembered dropped just past your shoulders, daring you to look up at its owner who refused you the luxury of space as the shadow-colored eyes stared deeply into yours.
“Hello, Dove. You look radiant as ever.”
Velvety as the day he testified and was sentenced was Suguru Geto. Older but just as handsome as the day you met; exuding the air of gentleness that made anyone feel at ease. That is until he didn’t need to. Those hands long and spindly trailed from your chest and on to your neck tracing your collarbone through your clothes. Finally resting on the middle of your neck, index fingers toying with the organ underneath your skin.
“Hum for me Dove.”
It was just like old times, unwilling to speak and yet plagued by the demand into those dark eyes to give something. So you hummed broken and uneven, in your ears it was hardly the symphony he claimed it was. But it didn’t really matter what you thought now.
“That’s my Dove.”
He annunciated proudly moving his hands to hold your face up, keeping you in place as he softly explored your mouth. Nibbles were soft but urgent as though there was a timer for this reacquaintance unlocking the memories of this exact kiss.
Under the stairwell after a big game, the first after the reveal. Satoru was insistent you come, unable to goad a word out of you, he had you hum. A promise to come to their game and cheer them on. As per usual they won, despite suffering from so many late players the team relied on their surviving all-star players. Unsurprisingly Satoru was majorly credited with their win, allowing Suguru to pick you out from the cheering crowd leading you under the stairwell.
“Aren’t you proud of me, Dove? Show me how proud of me you are.”
The kiss was just like this, still soft but needy. Hands methodically wandering to allow for an opening; some easier access to melt his body into yours in the minutes he had before the others came. It was just like this.
“Aw gorgeous, you missed us?”
Playful as always and hands eagerly running under the hem of your shirt to rub thumbs along the soft expanse of your skin. Pecks in between the hands creeping higher all the while Sugure tightens his grip on your jaw a warning not to forget him. Not ever again.
When Suguru does pull away it’s to suck at your neck, holding you by your shoulders as you’re hands wiggle with uncertainty. Even subconsciously you hesitate to have your hands reciprocate while the two assaulted you with kisses that were getting rougher by the minute. Satoru ignored Suguru when he climbed up higher to meet your lips; and worked to intertwine his fingers with yours. With another attempt, he roughly pulled at Suguru’s lips with his teeth demanding they share a deep kiss of their own before returning to you.
“Oh Gorgeous we’ve been waiting to do this since forever.”
Two more final pecks from each of them, allowed you to breathe leaving you limp and pliable for the especially touchy Gojo Satoru who slotted you into his lap as he settled onto the older couch. Suguru sat closely his arm reaching over the top of the couch to let his hand rub at your neck once again.
“Missed you at the airport.”
The pit in your stomach returned at the loaded judgment and came with a pinch into your side. Under Suguru’s scrutinizing gaze and the feeling of Satoru’s eyes from behind you, had you hoping to defend yourself.
“I thought you were going to kill me.”
You said it with attempted laughter, begging for the laughter of the killers you’ve feared for years–all to confirm that still wasn’t the plan.
Suguru in his forever-contained demeanor sent you a smile with half-lidded eyes. The most unclear answer to the anxiety that hadn’t rested even with the butterflies of kissing these two again. The vibration of a laugh from behind wasn’t an answer either and neither were the muscular arms circling you.
Suguru released your neck, and brought his hand to hold up his head,” So you and the detective. Did you get together, after I left?”
The growl behind his smile reminded you of why it took so much courage to speak out. Something you bore witness to since the couple decided to reveal themselves to you. Not only for the fear of ending up like their victims but for the entirely personal punishment only Suguru in all his infinite fury could conjure.
“No! I’ve been single this whole time.”
That got you a squeal from Satoru who lightly squeezed you tightly into him giving light pecks to your neck. Not stopping anytime soon you turned your attention back to Suguru, who still didn’t look pleased.
“Hm, I’m not convinced.”
The nonchalant claim made you feel like crying again. You remember this conversation when it came to an old friend. Even when you pleaded, silently albeit he’d scoff and smile at you while he remained ‘unconvinced’. Kissing your forehead before leaving to claim another victim for the masked killer.
“He brought you to me …he-he convinced me to talk.”
That wasn’t true. It was you. Through a month of self-care and therapy, you were able to muster the ability to speak again. Choso was great support but it was you who did it. You who gained the courage to move away and restart your life away from the memories of your serial killer boyfriends. Speaking of, you whimper at the sting of pain along your neck.
Straining your gaze to look at the man whose admiring the mark on your neck. Despite the loving caressing of his hand along your neck, the glare of Satoru Gojo was just as frightening as the killer sitting across from you.
“I don’t know I think that’s all the more reason!”
You couldn’t restrain yourself from silently pleading with Suguru looking deeper into the house where Choso disappeared with the older woman. Suguru sent a hand through his unrestrained hair as he sighed.
“I’m not pleased with you (Y/n). Telling on us like you did someone’s got to pay.”
You could hear Gojo smirk behind you.
“So what do you say, babe round 3 of our favorite Halloween Night?”
Suguru released his locks as he mockingly stuck his nose to the sky,“I’ll think about it.”
Suddenly the rickety old house shook from a plane overhead; thinking nothing of it you expectantly looked at Suguru who seemed to be debating. Only for him to abruptly stand and make his way to the door. Satoru hopped up with you in tandem refusing to let you walk on your own without him clinging onto you.
They both made their way to the back porch where the very plane you’d refused to ride a day ago was releasing its stairs. With the steps fully extended Satoru tugged you along as Suguru began to ascend. With the question of Choso’s life still hanging in the balance you dug your feet into the ground pointing at the house which Satoru barely acknowledged until you’ve turned yourself in his direction.
“Wait! My bags! Choso has my bags!”
That had Suguru coming down the steps faster than you could turn; feeling that familiar grip on your jaw as he forced your gaze on him.
“You don’t get to choose if we bring that with you. I didn’t get to choose what I got to bring when you sent me to that cell. ”
You held your gaze as you stood your ground, “Not him. Be mad at me! Not him.”
For a moment those black depths flashed with something violent; a glimpse of what hundreds had seen in their last moments.
It wasn’t for you but how could you know that?
Suguru sighed lessening his grip on your jaw, using both his hands to hold your face. Running his thumbs along the creases of your face as if he had to remember the texture of your skin against his own. Since his reunion with Gojo, he fought tears, pulling you into a hug. One you returned on instinct, somehow even with the blood splattered on his face with the mask of a serial killer hanging on his head he was still your friend. As Gojo closed in from behind you you reminded that you felt the same for him; more than certain that you’d be rendered the same helpless witness to the deaths of so many friends. It would always end this way.
with them at the end of the blade, with the power they’d always have.
Satoru settled a hand on your waist and his other on Suguru’s face, his smile as warm and welcoming as the day you first met.
“Come on you two. Let’s spend this Halloween together. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
Finally entering the plane a part of you felt like you lost. That you succumbed to the imbalanced rulers of the system. But the largest part of you knew since you’d gotten involved with these two, you’d been given the footprint of a giant and it really would be better for everyone if you let them win especially this once.
At least with certainty, you can say this Halloween no one else is dying because of you.
#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere jjk#yandere gojo satoru#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere gojo#jjk fic#yandere suguru geto#yandere geto#yandere stsg#yandere satoru gojo#yandere satosugu#yandere satoru x reader#yandere poly#yandere polyamory#yandere poly x reader#yandere polyamorous#jogo#jujutsu kaisen jogo#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk halloween
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Hello, can I please get a headcanon where Sylus is shocked by something the MC says? The MC is usually quiet and reserved, keeping her thoughts to herself, but because Sylus has helped her become more expressive, she finally lets out her little chaotic evil self
sylus is not the man to challenge
The night was buzzing with quiet conversations and the clinking of glasses but as usual, all you could feel was Sylus's presence next to you. Lately, he'd been stepping up his usual teasing, always testing your reactions in subtle ways and now, it was like he was daring you. He reached over, brushing his hand along the lower area of your back, his touch sending a familiar warmth through you as he leaned close, his voice a low murmur.
"Still as shy as ever, kitten?" he teased, his fingers pressing just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "What's it gonna take for you to loosen up a bit, hmm?"
You felt a spark of boldness flicker through you and before you could stop yourself, you leaned close, voice steady as you met his gaze. "Well" you said with a smirk "do you want me to suck you off right here in front of everyone?”
The look on his face was priceless—a mix of shock and immediate, intense interest. For once, he was caught off guard but he recovered quickly, his eyes darkening with desire as he grinned, clearly up for the challenge.
Without a word, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap, his hands settling on your hips in a possessive grip. "Now, that's more like it” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as his hands began to wander, exploring your body with slow, deliberate intent. His fingers traced along your sides, his touch somehow both gentle and firm, leaving you breathless.
He leaned close, his voice a low, teasing whisper. "Look at you, acting all brave now but I can feel your heart racing." His fingers brushed under your shirt, tracing along your bare skin as he smirked. "Still feeling bold, sweetie?"
You swallowed, trying to keep your composure but his hands and the intense way he was looking at you made it impossible.
Even as you felt yourself blush, you tried to hold his gaze, determined to stay brave. But Sylus seemed to notice every little reaction, his smirk growing as he continued to tease, clearly enjoying every second of making you flustered while you sat right there, pinned against him.
#love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
hello everyone! •ᴗ•
below is my masterlist related to all things f1! as i continue to write, i will continue to add to the list.
the list will be divided by team, then separated individually by driver. any content that is mature will have a moon symbol that looks like this ☾ next to it.
happy reading! <3
mercedes amg petronas
toto wolff
sunbathing ☾
synopsis: as the daughter peter bonnington, you find yourself the object of his best friends' desires.
jealousy, jealousy ☾
synopsis: the anticipated second part to sunbathing. somehow you manage to find yourself alone with mr. wolff. is that a bad thing, though?
"tending to my love"
synopsis: toto rushes home to take care of you while you're sick.
night swim ☾
synopsis: as the nanny for mr. wolff's children, your life consists mainly of taking care of them, ensuring all of their needs are met. however, when you escape to the hot tub one night on a family getaway, you find mr. wolff joining you.
el tango de roxanne
synopsis: as an olympic figure skater, you befriend team principal toto wolff one fateful evening. little do you know, the two of you are mutually pining after one another.
a distinguished gentleman
synopsis: a collection of thoughts of your life as the passenger princess for the team principal.
"just one dance"
synopsis: one drunken night, the team principal begs for just one dance with christian horner's daughter.
a distinguished gentleman
synopsis: what life is like as toto's passenger princess.
alkaline - toto wolff x female driver! reader ☾
synopsis: as one of the top drivers on the formula one grid, you're on top of the world. however, when toto wolff approaches you with an offer to join mercedes, you're faced with the decision of a lifetime.
i. | ii. | iii. | iv. | v. | vi. | vii. | viii. | ix. | x. | xi. | xii. | xiii. | xiv. | xv. | xvi. | xvii. | xviii. | xix. | xx.
✧˖° golden girl & her star boys ✧˖°
the little moments - social media au
lover girl - social media au
"my favorite driver!"
setting it straight ☾
"the best weekend of my life"
girls like u - toto wolff x female driver! reader x max verstappen ☾
synopsis: as the reserve driver for mercedes, you tend to keep to yourself. however, as you prove yourself worthy, you realize that the world of formula 1 is far more cutthroat than you anticipated.
i. | ii.
lewis hamilton
too fast
synopsis: as lewis hamilton's assistant, you find yourself amidst a heated exchanged one night in vegas.
oracle red bull racing
sergio pérez
cat & mouse ☾
synopsis: recently divorced, sergio finds his mind wandering quite often, fantasizing about a fellow driver. will he play the game of cat and mouse? or, will he abstain, fighting his desires?
seeking comfort
synopsis: after the recent backlash surrounding the red bull driver's performance, you comfort him.
release ☾
synopsis: checo happens to have a lot of pent up... frustration. and you help him take care of it.
public display of affection
synopsis: you are finally shown off to the world as sergio's girfriend.
max verstappen
nothing else matters
synopsis: your boyfriend reassures your after a long day at the paddock.
"keep 'em comin"
synopsis: one night in vegas is all it takes to change everything.
aston martin racing
sebastian vettel
"you belong here"
synopsis: as the younger girlfriend of sebastian vettel, you find yourself in the midst of a hateful encounter with a group of fans.
marriage is complete & utter bliss
synopsis: you reflect on your marriage with the coveted formula 1 driver.
fernando alonso
celebratory drinks
synopsis: as a reporter, you find yourself interviewing your favorite formula one driver after his podium win.
scuderia alphatauri
daniel ricciardo
night changes
synopsis: the night of your wedding, you surprise daniel with the best gift imaginable.
the grid
words of endearment
synopsis: the different words of endearment that the drivers use for you! drivers are from the 2024 season.
#f1#formula one fic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 masterlist#formula one masterlist#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfic#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#toto wolff#sergio perez#pierre gasly#max verstappen#carlos sainz#charles leclerc
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A Man With a Plan.4
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
CW: brief mention of a sexual encounter (non-explicit)
The following week-and-a-half was both chaotic and painful for (likely everyone involved, but specifically for) Remus��Moony Remus (& Moony).
Remus (under the watchful glare of one Sirius Orion Black) apologized to James for speaking so rudely to him, and to Peter for upsetting the room.
Pete was quick to forgive him, whilst James just asked, “are you ready to talk about it?”. Remus replied no, James said “talk to me when you are”, and the two haven’t spoken much since.
The closer and closer Remus got to the full moon, the more incessant Moony became. Even if you weren’t around, Moony was whining after you. When you were around, Moony was begging for you.
Remus, much to Moony and Sirius’s (never mind his own) chagrin, would hear your soft lilting voice moving down the hall speaking to James, and would quickly grab Amelia and find the closest broom closet.
After the 3rd or 4th time, he was starting to look like a horny pre-teen who just discovered playboy magazines.
But while Amelia was on her knees and his hand was on the back of her head, he could muffle the howling and yipping of the angry wolf for at least the moment, and it felt like enough.
Until it wasn’t.
“Stop, stop.” He groaned as he pulled away from Amelia’s wandering hands. She looked quite lovely – flushed, slightly damp and pupils blown wide, but Remus couldn’t appreciate much of anything with the chorus of ‘Need, need, need, need. Mine, mine, mine, mine’ inside his mind.
“What is it, baby?” She cooed at him. Remus had to fight back a grimace at the nickname.
“I ca-I can’t do this right now.” He said, bringing his hand to his mouth; he suddenly felt queasy.
“Are you sure? I can be a good girl for you.” She purred.
“No.” he said as he flung the door to the broom closet and nearly collided with you.
Dammit, how were you everywhere!?
“Oh, hello Remus! Are you alright?” You asked him.
Mine.
Remus could only let out a keening sound in response – hand still pressed to his mouth.
Your eyes seemed to flit around his being – not actually looking at him but around him as your mouth pinched in concern.
“No, not alright at all.” You answered your own question, speaking more to yourself than anything.
“Rem?” Amelia said as she rubbed his back and spotted you in front of him.
“Oh, L/N,” Amelia said with a chuckle. Remus felt his hackles rise immediately. “Your aura looks wonderful today.”
Her voice was filled with contempt, but your eyes never left Remus’ form.
“Here,” you said to Remus as you began to dig through your book bag. You missed the ‘tosser’ that Amelia threw your way, but Remus didn’t.
Moony wanted her dead.
“This should help, Remus. It’s mallowsweet, shrivlefig juice, powdered moonstone, and rosewater. I think it’s just what you need.”
Your voice was so soft and sweet, and Moony was so quiet while you spoke. Remus almost wanted to tell you to forget the vial you were offering as he felt his migraine lifting just from listening to you talk.
Remus might as well have been a puppet as he raised his hand to take the vial from you – he didn’t even know what this concoction was for, but if you kept looking at him like that? He’d drink forty of them.
You dropped the vial into his palm, keeping your fingers to yourself as if you were somehow aware he was afraid to touch you.
“I hope you feel better, Remus.” You breathed softly, parting from him with a gentle smile as you floated back down the hallway.
“Gods, she is such an airhead.”
Remus suddenly understood James a little bit better.
“Amelia,” he started as he turned to stare daggers at the girl, “don’t make fun of my friends.”
And he stalked off down the hall, opposite the way you’d just went.
It was Thursday evening, and there were only two more nights until the full. Remus sat at the table with his head in his hands as he tried to swallow against his gag reflex.
Amelia Bones was staring daggers at him from the Hufflepuff table, but it was you, speaking so sweetly to James across from him, that had his heart beating like a hummingbird in his chest.
Mine, pack! Pack! Pack! Mine, pack.
Remus mentally grabbed The Wolf by the scruff, causing a pitiful whine and quiet whimpering to follow. He was too tired and too close to the full for this.
James was speaking animatedly to you about the niffler’s from class today, but Remus Moony could tell your mind was elsewhere.
“One moment, Jamie.” You said quietly to your friend as you began to walk away. Suddenly, you were standing behind Moony Remus.
“Excuse me, Peter. Would you mind terribly if I sat here?” You asked sweetly, pointing to the sliver of bench between the two of them. Sirius’ eyes flew to meet Remus’ from his spot across from him.
“Oh! Uhm, no, Y/N, not at all.” Peter agreed as he moved to create a space for you beside Remus.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, you were suddenly sat between Remus and Peter, directly across from James who was placed beside Sirius.
Remus felt his shoulders sag in immediate relief to have you so close to him. Horrifyingly, he felt tears spring to his eyes. He tucked his chin into his chest, knowing Sirius’ gaze hadn’t left him.
You pushed your ankle up against Remus’ as you continued discussing the pilfering little creatures from your class with James as the first tear fell.
He wanted to be angry. But he couldn’t bring himself to.
He wanted to resent you. But he couldn’t bring himself to.
Because you were kind and sweet and understanding and patient. And he was the monster.
And somehow, you knew all of that. And yet, you sat here, beside him, and offered him what little comfort you could.
Remus was fucked.
You were at the quidditch game Friday evening. Gryffindor was playing Slytherin, so you appeared to be present only to cheer on James.
It was sweet.
Remus was fucked.
Amelia came too, which pissed Remus off seeing as Hufflepuff wasn’t playing either, but it gave him the chance to not sit there staring at the space beside you wishing he was selfish enough to take it.
Her company wasn’t as nice as yours, but Remus supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.
The weather kind of sucked – it wasn’t raining but the air was thick with fog and mist, and visibility was low. Remus wasn’t sure how the players managed between the mist, the wind on their brooms, and their sweat, but the game raged on.
“Wait, so the little braids that you find on horses randomly...” Peter asked you from a few bleachers below Remus.
Remus kept his eyes on the players he could make out through the fog and pretended he wasn’t listening to your conversation.
“Yes, those are nargles. They appear at night and twist the hairs of horses or unicorns to create stirrups and leads so that they can ride them. It’s important you don’t undo them, though, as nargles may become frustrated that they have to redo their work. They are also more likely to return to ride your horse again instead of outright taking them for their own if you respect their work. Tricky little thieves, they are.”
“Huh.” Pete offered brightly. Remus smiled widely to himself. “Well, I suppose they also look pretty in the horse’s hair. Might as well leave ‘em.”
Remus felt a warmth radiating in his chest. He couldn’t see either of you as he kept his gaze on the game, but he could clearly picture your kind and airy smile, and how Peter had his body turned to you to ensure you had his full intention.
Moony loved it too.
Pack. Good. Good. Good. PaCk GooD.
Remus began to think maybe he could handle this. Maybe he could keep you here, sort of at arm’s length but still within his reach. Maybe he could accept you as a friend and...pack member if that’s what Moony insisted on calling you.
Maybe this didn’t need to be all or nothing, maybe this could just be...
But Remus’ train of thought stopped as Moony began raging within his mind. Remus started to panic, thinking maybe he miscalculated the next full moon; he’s not been wrong about a moon once in his entire life, but fuck, stranger things have happened.
He looked to the sky, and even through the fog, Remus could tell the moon was nowhere near risen. He was also very sure the full moon was tomorrow night.
“Look out!” A player shouted from the pitch as Remus spotted a very large ball careening its way over...straight for you.
Mine. Mine. Mine MINE MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE.
Remus’ mind went blank as he stood from his place. Suddenly, he was standing in front of you as the ball hit him in the middle of his back. He grunted in mild discomfort, but it was far less damage than what could have been had it made contact with your face.
Your face, which was looking up at Remus with your mouth parted in gentle surprise, and your eyes searching his person.
“Remus! Are you alright, mate?” Peter cried in shock.
The whistle sounded on the pitch as players flew their way over to the Gryffindor benches to retrieve the ball.
“Yeah, Pete, I’m fine. Doesn’t hurt that bad.” He offered, though his eyes never left yours.
“Moony, what the fuck was that?!” Sirius called from his broom.
“What was what? Aren’t you players supposed to aim the ball at each other?” He snarked back.
“Mate,” Pete whispered to him, “you apparated.”
He...he apparated!?
Hogwarts had ancient magical wards lining the school grounds and castles. One such ancient ward was an anti-apparition ward. No one should be able to apparate in or out.
Ignoring all of that, however...7th years still hadn’t been taught how to apparate yet.
Well...Remus didn’t know what to say about that. So instead, he asked “are you alright?”
You looked between him and his right shoulder for a moment before nodding. “Yes, Remus. Thank you. I’m very sorry about all of this.”
But before he could say - oh, that’s okay, or that’s not necessary, or even what the hell are you apologizing for? - you were out of your seat and leaving the stands.
“What did you say to her?” James barked at Remus from his broom beside Sirius, glare turning stormy.
“Nothing mate,” Sirius answered for him, “he just asked if she was alright.”
“Was she?” James asked, eyes softening slightly.
“Yeah, she’s okay.” Remus answered.
James seemed to analyze Remus’ face before offering him a curt nod and flying back to the centre of the pitch.
“McGonagall’s going to be so pissed if you broke those wards, mate.” Peter muttered as the game resumed.
Sure, Remus thought, let’s focus on that.
McGonagall was kind of pissed about the wards, but she told Remus it was but a minor tear within the grid and may be repairable.
Seeing as the burst of accidental magic was...well...accidental (and lunar in nature, though he figured it was best they all ignored that little fact for the time being), he was off the hook for the damage.
He was the victim of relentless torment, however.
“Lord Rem, are you reading ahead to make the rest of us look bad?” Lily smirked from her place in the Gryffindor common room.
Remus groaned into his book as he pulled it to the face.
“It was an accident.” He muttered miserably.
“Sure. Just watch your back, Lupin; I’m still top of the class.” She fired at him with a smirk.
The common room continued thinning out until it was only Lily and James playing wizards chess, Sirius and Peter playing exploding snap, and Remus trying to read his book as his muscles and joints swelled and groaned under the pull of the moon. Tomorrow night, and then he’d be free for the rest of the cycle.
Well, not free, seeing as now he was also plagued by you.
Suddenly, the group of five could hear the portrait of the Fat Lady screeching at someone in the hall.
“I will do no such thing; I am not a secretary” the muffled voice spat.
Sirius and Remus shared a confused look before the former stood and made his way to the portrait hole.
“Reggie?” Sirius asked quietly as the portrait swung open to reveal the form of his younger brother.
“Uhm, hi, Sirius. I... I was wondering if Potter was here?”
Sirius’ head reared back slightly as he blinked over at James.
“Uhm...yes? He is.”
Regulus sighed. “May I speak to him?”
Sirius slowly moved aside and gestured for Regulus to come in.
“Hello Regulus.” James said politely, looking bemusedly at Sirius for a brief moment before standing.
“Potter. My apologies for the...intrusion. But I’m wondering if you’ve seen Y/N.”
Remus’ book fell into his lap as he sat straight in his chair, hands gripping the arm rests. Remus had heard from Sirius (who heard from James) that you and Regulus were quite close. This at least explained why Remus’ friends and yours had never intertwined before.
“No, no. Not since the game, why?”
Regulus sighed again as he grimaced. “She’s not in her dorms. One of her dormmates asked me where she went – apparently, she told them it was important for her to be ‘away from the castle’ for the weekend. I was hoping you knew where she went.”
Remus ran up to the Marauder’s dorm room and accio’d the Marauder’s Map. He scanned the parchment and, sure enough, you were nowhere to be found. He double, triple and quadruple checked to no avail.
You were nowhere to be found on castle grounds.
Continue to chapter five here.
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#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin#werewolf mcswearwolf#werewolf soulmate#soulmate au#hp marauders#remus lupin ficlet#remus lupin blurb#werewolf#the lupins#james potter#sirius black#peter pettigrew#lily evans#regulus black
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the pained peace treaty
fused with the foe, chapter one
a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.
summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury
word count: 4813
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”
“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”
A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”
Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”
“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”
“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”
Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”
“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.”
Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat.
Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms.
As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum.
You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude.
A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow.
“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival.
Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”
Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”
“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”
When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”
“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”
“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”
“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”
You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”
Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”
“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake.
Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”
“Yes, your highness?”
“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”
“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”
As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge.
Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her.
Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother.
Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired.
“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.
“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were.
“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”
“What did you expect?”
Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.”
Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop.
The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage.
Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”
“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.
“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”
Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”
He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside.
Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour.
Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures.
Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you.
“Hey, Barnes?”
Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”
“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”
“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”
“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”
“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone.
Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”
Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”
Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows.
“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?”
“Of course, your highness.”
“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”
Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”
“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”
“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”
“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.
Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”
With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours.
A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh.
You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely.
The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle.
The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue.
Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you.
“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.”
Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.”
And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.
The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers.
As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends.
When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame.
“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once.
Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.”
“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”
A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”
It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen.
Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you.
The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below.
But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter.
The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow.
“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?”
“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone.
Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.”
“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress.
When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.
First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”
Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric.
His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor.
“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”
“Oh…” was all he breathed.
“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”
“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer.
“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”
“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.”
A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”
Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”
Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left.
Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?
© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#eflorr au#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers au#steve rogers series#king!steve rogers#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x f!reader#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#captain america x reader#steve rogers angst#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers smut#chris evans smut#chris evans x reader
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Mhhhhh, maybe
-Ambessa x Babett's "Worker"
Or
-A captuered War Prize 😌
But also
-A Servant of Hers
Please dont feel forced to write anything, Just saw your request and wanted to give Suggestions.🙊💕
Hello darling! Thank you for the ideas, whilst I may visit them all I have done a captured war prize for now. It was supposed to be short and sexy but then it became..this? She plays the slow game and conquers the reader in other ways.
I hope you like it, thank you for the support <3
I haven't proof read it much because I am literally exhausted lol
MDNI 18+
Warnings - Manipulation, Mind Games, Captive, Degradation, Pet names, Reader doing accidental voyeurism, Oral, hair pulling.
Her Prized Possession - 3.8K NSFW
They’d come through like a tornado, ripping apart your entire life and feasting on the rubble. People had fled, terrified of the swift and unforgiving invasion. Those who remained were rounded up and tossed into carts. The ground shook, frightened by the fury of Noxus and at the heart of it all was her. Ambessa Medarda was renowned for her cruelty, her efficiency and most of all her greed.
You were the perfect example of that.
You had been pulled from your apothecary’s hut, cotton dress filthy from your attempts to hide. They raided you of your life’s work, people throwing you into a pile of frightened villagers. The air shifted, the soldiers straightening as certain steps commanded their attention. Without looking up you knew it was her, and fury burned bright. This self obsessed, pompous woman had destroyed your life and for what? She lingered a step away, sword raised lazily as if taunting farm yarn animals. You only had a few seconds, and even if it was fruitless you had to try.
As others cowered, obeying her cruel words, you slipped your fingers around the knife in your sock and shot forward. Somehow it made contact, slicing a gash into her leg, trailing down her leg.
“Monster,” You snarled.
You were risen into the air by your hair, a pained yelp leaning you as you stared into the eyes of a hungry beast. Golden eyes gazed at you, surprised and amused. You were going to die now, and she was laughing in your face.
“She’ll do,” She said easily, throwing your body at the ground behind her, before wandering off with no sign of injury. Confusion had eaten you until two lean Noxian soldiers had appeared, spears in hand.
Their touch was uncomfortably gentle, ushering you like a scared dog from the village into an imposing, structured tent. Fear licked at your bones, a fate worse than death settling on you like a thick cloak. Maids with pretty eyes and practised fingers removed your dress and replaced it with a soft red silk slip. Oh. You were a prize, an object like the towering pile of goods in their camp, to be used and discarded.
It didn’t take long for them to chain you to a small post next to a large, velvet armchair. There you sat, resting on your knees on cold marble. You felt ornamental, your humanity dripped away as you merged with the surroundings. You could only be thankful that it was warm in the tent, for the winter winds howled outside as afternoon beckoned.
When she entered you refused to look up, muscles tensing.
“Sulking, are we Dear?” It was honeyed, as fabric dropped to the floor, “I wouldn’t, it was a good hit, if you’d gone up slightly it might have even done something,”
Your cheeks coloured with frustration. You hated her, hated how small she made you feel, how effortlessly she had crushed you. Worst of all you hated the beauty she wielded. Like a serpent, blinding you with glittering scales as she wound around you, squeezing you till you burst.
“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me now,” She pouted, summoning your eyes instinctively, “There she is, brave warrior,”
You frowned, “I suppose it’s not enough that I’m here, you have to mock my only agency,”
Ambessa moved forward leisurely, in only black underwear and a robe, settling into her armchair, “I never mock a bold manoeuvre, little one, no matter how fruitless,”
She tugged you forward slightly, your head forced to rest on her thigh as she poured a cup of tea. You grunted, staring at the rug between her legs as she intertwined her fingers in your hair. Her touch was kind and repetitive, caressing your locks as she picked up a book and began to read aloud. Adrenaline was drowning you but your anticipation garnered nothing. She stayed like this for hours, muttering to you. The fire and her touch forced you into acknowledging your exhaustion. Occasionally she would offer water, fingers wielding a crystal glass for you. It took five tries for you to accept, your throat aching from dehydration. You were rewarded with a scratch under your chin as her voice continued to wash over you. In another life this would have filled you with contentment and it grated at you.
Moments later you were being moved again, picked up as though a feather to rest on her silky thighs. The hand she reattached to your head pushed you into the crook of her shoulder, her smell potent and warm. Iron and sweat clashed with spices and sea air, leaving your flagging mind woozy. You couldn’t escape and you had no way of harming her, so sitting in her lap became your only option.
You hadn’t noticed your fluttering eyelids and heavy breath until your stomach growled, cramping at its emptiness. Her voice stopped immediately as the book slammed shut. Those eyes, now kind, surveyed you. With a melodic ring, a bell to her side beckoned two maids.
“What do you wish to eat?” Ambessa asked, tucking a strand behind your ear, “I shall share whatever you have,”
“Pork stew,” You muttered, desire for food and comfort outweighing your doubts. If she’d wanted you dead, you’d be a corpse.
“A local delicacy, I’m told,” Her words are in your ear, lips practically against them.
The food arrived faster than you’d thought possible, steaming and hearty in little gold bowls. Your stomach interjected again, eyes wide and desperate. To your immense surprise, she undid your shackles and allowed you to feed yourself. Though you were still anchored to her lap by a strong arm, this newfound freedom caused a rush of joy. The stew was exceptional, though more decadent than you ever would have had it. The chef must have had a heavy hand with the spices, no cares as to their cost, the heat flooding you. Ambessa seemed comforted too, her portion over double yours as you watched in subtle amazement at her appetite. It could have fed a family of four from your village with ease.
Whatever plans she had for you, it seemed she would not be enacting them tonight. Your silk slip was a nightgown and nothing more, as she moved with you through the tent into an adjoining room with a large, fur covered bed.
“Now then,” Her hand held your chin, “Shackles for bed tonight, wouldn’t want you wandering off until you’ve proved your loyalty,”
Loyalty? That’s what she wanted?
The metal felt warmer than before, less weighted as she clasped it shut and bundled you up. Her form slid in next to you, though she mercifully did not insist you touch her. You did not speak, unable to give her the satisfaction after having to tolerate so much, though she wished you a tender goodnight.
Your sleep was fitful, filled with slashing blades and burning embers. You awoke alone, furs wrapped tight. A slip of parchment was to your left in a sharp hand.
I shall be away all day,
There are clothes and some books on my armchair for you.
Mira will see to anything you need,
A.M.
True to her word, a slight serving girl entered the moment you moved to the main space, trays of food and drink with her. She helped you dress, braided your hair and even undid the shackles.
“Lady Medarda said this is a show of trust,” Her words were clear, as if dictating from a note, “If you attempt anything, guards will be on you before you can lift a scrap of the tent’s fabric,”
“Lovely,” You grumbled to yourself, “Her trust gives me the ability to lift a glass unaided,”
“If you behave she will bring your medical journals and allow you to sleep without restraint,” She said, a smile on her face. Of course she had predicted you’d complain.
The book she had read to you yesterday was in the pile and after breakfast you found yourself wanting to learn its conclusion. Warm in the wool trousers and jumper Ambessa had provided you, you sat in the chair and finished it. If Mira had any opinions about you sitting in her Mistress’s chair she did not voice them, and the small rebellion quieted some of the caged panic that rattled in your chest. Her slowness to act just gave you time to think of an escape plan and then you could get away elsewhere
The sun set quickly, your time wasted with dozing and books as you memorised each corner of the room. Though this was technically a tent, it was secured enough to act as a house, with the only way out being forward which wasn’t a way out at all. Lady Medarda ensured that.
When Ambessa returned dinner had long since passed, and you had begrudgingly put yourself to bed. The curtain parted and her fatigued face came into view.
“There you are,” She sighed, “I thought you would have dug a tunnel out of here by now,”
“Cutlery’s too dull, no doubt a coincidence,” You found yourself quipping, observing the way her mouth creased into a grin.
“No need for a sharp knife when your meat is tender,” She purred, moving to the other side of the bed and removing her outer clothes, “Did you have a restful day?”
She seemed genuinely interested, and not for the first time you wondered where the wolf had gone. Shifting your tactics in the hopes of softening her, you gave a muffled answer. Mollified, she curled up as she had the night before and fell asleep almost immediately.
You were gloriously shackleless and yet if you fled now she would probably crush your throat before both feet hit the floor. It was expected this first night, and probably the second, a test of your resolve and patience. The only way to go would be when she genuinely trusted your obedience.
Ten days and a camp change later you were beginning to lose patience. She was vigilant, but considerate and it left you now windows of opportunity. You weren’t a hardened warrior as she had joked that first day, you were an apothecary with nothing to do but lounge around and be read to by a infamous warlord. You were beginning to feel mad, a life of leisure so roughly thrust upon you. The conditions only improved with the move and her tent now had its own bathroom, a humongous glistening tub calling to you. Ambessa had begun to ask you for opinions on her expansion plans, seemingly wanting to preserve the charm of your land whilst overpowering it with Noxian glamour. WIth your input she kept the old churches and allowed your people to tend to their lands if they swore allegiance to Noxus.
In a gilded cage, miles away from your home, you weighed the advantages of staying entangled against the bliss of freedom. The guards were becoming more lax, allowing you to wander through parts of the camp and make friends with Mira and the other maids. She had not harmed you, save pulling your hair that first day and you were well provided for. She’d even managed to tug more substantial conversations from you, even when they lacked a business element. You’d told her of your journey to becoming an apothecary, and she had explained the first time wore armour, clattering to the floor mid fight.
At night, as rain slammed down and the wind chilled your toes, you would gaze longingly at the doorway and then find yourself tugged into warm, firm arms. Much like reading time, you were held and pressed into her, scent dizzying. She smiled, you had noticed, when she cradled you in her sleep. Each time it would wipe the door from your mind as you succumbed to a more contented sleep. Most confusing of all, she was showing no signs of tiring of you as a ‘toy soldier’ as she had affectionately dubbed you. Nobody seemed to understand why you lingered in her space rather than being given your own, perhaps not even her.
On the thirtieth day things shifted. After dinner, a heavy dress floating around your feet, you slipped back into the tent and were met with breathy, loud moans. Not Medarda’s, though she was clearly the cause. Hidden by the thick curtains, a high female voice begged and cried the warlord’s name, the creaking of your bed audible.
Your bed.
Her bed, you corrected grimly, embarrassment sticky in your throat. The noise ceased almost immediately after you had entered, and your feet froze to the ground. A nameless, unknown girl slipped from the bedroom, meeting your gaze with a pleasure struck face. A vapid giggle left her as she slipped past you.
Ambessa appeared moments later, robe loose around her, with an easy expression. It darkened imperceptibly in your presence, though you felt the subtle chill.
“I didn’t realise you were back, Warrior,” She muttered, voice heavy, “That wasn’t planned, I-I shall notify you if I intend to use our space like that,”
Our.
Wait, did she think you’d be jealous?
“How the mighty have fallen,” You scoffed, unable to meet her gaze, “Shouldn’t I be fearing consequences from you, as the captive,”
“You’re not the one with a new leg scar,”
Touche. She seemed to hold you on a pedestal for that act alone and you had yet to decipher why.
It was made clear by the flurry of people that the bedroom was stripped and remade. It calmed you, the faceless woman erased from the space though you and Ambessa lingered. You didn’t care what she did with her love life but you decided you didn’t need to know about it.
Unfortunately, it was hard to avoid. Trysts, people trying to charm their way into your her bed as you ate at the communal table and several conquests leaving that you had to face the next day. It made your stomach ache, fingers dancing with nervous energy every time she lay next to you, her scent changing every so slightly if she had had company. Almost another month passed with you on tenterhooks, stuck between the safety of your leisure with her and the stain of sin on your sanctuary.
The worst of all had to be tonight though. You had awoken alone for the first time, colder than ever, when you heard it. Ambessa’s blissful sigh. She was actively being pleasured in her armchair whilst you fucking slept. Through a crack in the curtain you could see tan legs kneeling just as you had that first night, between her thighs with their head on her skin. The notable difference was how they devoured her, pulling dark moans and filthy words from her gravelly voice. It was hard to ignore, her scent drenching you in the bed you shared as she used another’s body. You tried to stifle the noise, covering your ears and burrowing into the bed. This made the scent issue exponentially worse, especially when the mattress dipped and her still sex slicked body curled against your form. Her lips kissed your forehead, the burn of her skin scalding you.
Her pleasure haunts your dreams, lurking shadows and echoing noise. Close, but just out of reach. For the first time you wake before her, skin muggy and unsettled as you dressed in a robe and wandered into the morning dew. The grass was beginning to have that telltale icy crunch, cracking under your velvet slippers as you slipped out of the camp unnoticed. Your thoughts sit like damp coffee grounds, thick and grainy as you fight the memories of the night before, choking what they make you feel. It was not jealousy, it was anger to be sure.
There was no direction to your wandering. The treeline called to you with its snowy arms reaching high, animals dancing through the dense white landscape. Not too far in the distance there stood a frozen lake and a childish part of you yearned to skate across it, your body moving you unbidden. It was larger up close, iridescent swirls of nature showing the loose water below. It reminded you of how you felt about your life now, about Ambessa.
Fear and nostalgia sat steadfast as your ice, hardening your resolve and keeping your wit sharp, but beneath was the flow of her. In two short months she had managed to nurture your underfed body and mind, relishing in your rebellion and cherishing your input. The warlord existed so clearly to you, but you could not reconcile her with the reader who brewed you floral tea. One stirred anxiety and the other calm. Picking up shards of ice and flinging them across the lake, you attempted to untangle the Noxian web within you. Sparkles of sunlight grew higher as you stewed, beginning to blind you as you stepped closer to the edge, ice grunting under you.
“I’m not sure you’re dressed for whatever this is,” Ambessa’s voice rang out, her body leaning against a tree.
You had sensed her, though her movements were muffled, form tightening.
“Something troubling you?”
“Just fancied a walk,”
“In a robe and slippers?” She snorted, “Some walk indeed,”
“Did you need something?”
“You, Dear,” She muttered, at your back in an instant, “I woke up alone,”
Your heart panged oddly, her presence fueling the rushing currents under the ice, as you lent into her warmth. “Here I am,”
Her cloak engulfed you, dragging you under as her dulcet tones rasped in your ear, “Let’s get you home, Little one,”
Home.
It occurred to you then as you stumbled back with her that perhaps you hadn’t been a prisoner in a while. Here you stood, free and yet wishing only to return to the warmth she had made for you.
A bath was drawn and you crawled into it obediently. Her eyes were shut, though she cleaned your hair and muttered to you about her day to come. It was peace. It was bliss. It was your worst nightmare. Cold receded and you allowed yourself to slip into a warm lull.
She left soon after, leaving behind new pyjamas and a sweetbread. You stayed in bed, as confused and dazed as those first weeks.
That night you were awoken by the same wanton sounds in the living room and your nostrils flared, fingers crushing the softness of your sheets. Your emotions flopped again. You hated her. She was vile and infuriating and brutal and somehow constantly having fucking sex.
When Ambessa slid into bed this time, sweet smells of pleasure wafting from her, you let out a growl.
“DId I wake you?” She muttered, a smile etched on her lips.
“You don’t touch me like that,” It slipped out, fury and turmoil.
“Pardon?” Her eyes had darkened, observing you curled and tense.
“W-We do everything else, you treat me as an equal and give me freedom, but you use our space for cheap pleasures whilst I sleep,”
“I was unaware it was a pro-”
“You don’t touch me like that,” It was a whine now, “Why?”
“You’ve never asked, little warrior,” Her voice was sin, soaking you and tugging you close, “I didn’t realise you were unhappy with me,”
“Please,” You croaked, gripping her forearm weakly, “I-”
Her lips were on yours, firm and rough, her tongue slipping into your mouth. Pretty girl, she thought, delicate and hers. You melted like butter, nuzzling close and stroking her grey curls. She was perfect, and you finally had all of her. Her fingers danced along your silk nightgown, cupping a breast with a firm hand. Leaning forward, she nipped at your neck as skilled hands massaged neglected flesh. You were keening instantly, eyes glossy and lips parted.
Minutes drained away against her ministrations as your thighs rubbed together, the burn beginning to hurt as she teased your pebbled nipples in her mouth. Your nightgown was wet from her saliva, and the friction of the fabric with her tongue had you rutting against her thigh. Bruises were forming on your neck, your upper body ruined before she’d even undressed you.
“Please,” It seemed the only word you could remember, puffy mouth slurring it at every opportunity.
“Again,” She teased, finally ripping your clothes from you, “Louder,”
You pleaded and gasped, each word heightening your arousal, your desperation, as her fingers stroked your folds. She was kind, allowing you the pleasure you yearned for, slicked thumb rubbing circles on your clit as she stretched you slowly.
Ambessa felt a swell of triumph. It had taken her endless hours of uncharacteristic kindness and stern patience, allowing you to cycle through defiance, anger and acceptance as often as you needed until you finally succumbed. You were drenched and mewling against her, sex drunk eyes stuck to her. It had been fulfilling, breaking you in, just as she had suspected when she caught eyes with a crazed, dirt covered woman with the audacity to wield a blade to her.
Tugging orgasm after orgasm from you, cunt quivering and tensing as you drooled mindlessly, she relished in her victory. Her power was etched into you now.
“Silly girl,” She cooed, voice a knife edge, “I knew I could make you mine,”
Her words cut through the tingling fog. You realised, with a dizzying stab, that you had always been her war prize, she just hadn’t conquered you till now. Each tender touch and measured interaction was to break you into her willing little toy and here you were, fucking yourself shamelessly on her thick digits. You would have been more hurt, a flare of resistance kicking in, if it weren’t for the unabashed love and satisfaction in her eyes. Well then, you guess you’d both been played. The mighty warlord may have broken you, reshaping your desires, but she had fallen in love in the process and you would relish that till your dying breath.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just use me months ago,” You quipped, starting a slow and methodical worship of her scarred body.
“You wouldn’t have wanted it, warrior,” She muttered, amused by your acceptance, “I am many things, but I only fuck those who ask,”
“I want it,” You sucked her nipple, humping her leg as her eyes slammed shut.
“I know, doll,” Her hands pulled your hair, making you yelp happily, “You soaked my hand like a good girl to prove it,”
For a moment, as you curled between her legs and began to eat like a woman starved, you wondered if this was the right choice.
Ambessa let out a noise, confusing to your ears. It was nothing like the others you had heard in her time with others, it was delirious and light, happy pants slipping out as you sucked and fucked her with your tongue. She came quickly, face blank as she suffocated you with her cunt. Her touch, despite it all, was tender. She was yours and you were hers.
There was nothing more right than that.
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Hello i know requests are closed rn but plsss if you ever open them again pls do bruce wayne x male reader with 20 years age gap like reader is Bruce's secretary and somehow fell in love with him and when reader got kidnapped and tortured bruce asks reader to live in the manor and bruce confesses (like bruce is in his mid 40s and readers is in his mid 20s..... I know this is questionable but pls think about it)
Okay... here's my opinion about age gaps. As long as the older person didn't know the younger person as a minor, you know, as teen or a child, I have no problem with it. And as long the relationship is not toxic or abusive, I'm good. Also, 2k words of... Chaos? I don't even know at this point.
Summary: (Y/N) and Bruce may or may not have feelings. Alongside their age gap.
Warnings: 20 year age gap, everything is healthy and consensual about the relationship, kidnapping, torture
Bruce has had many secretaries over the years, but none of them lasted that long. He always treated his secretaries nicely and made sure that they are protected from anyone who is aggressive, which is rare, but people can be rather entitled and aggressive for no reason. So maybe it's that... That is until (Y/N) came to apply for the position. Now, Bruce never really divided jobs by gender or anything like that, but it was unusual for men to be personal assistants.
But did Bruce think that there was something wrong with men being personal assistants? No. As long as the job is done, Bruce will not be complaining. But still, he was shocked when a man walked into the room to be interviewed. None the less, Bruce conducted the interview with professionalism.
Bruce looked over the resume, seeing where he worked, if he had any experience, his education and all... And it was a one good resume. Bruce couldn't argue with that. Had experience in the office, a nice degree, but he wandered what (Y/N) was doing here, working as a secretary?
(Y/N)'s honest answer?
He likes to organize things. And he likes the calmer option. No one can really dump any work on him. Maybe a few more calls or something, but no one can dump anything on him.
Bruce liked the answer. No one really liked the people that dump work on others and as a secretary, you don't really have that. So Bruce could see the appeal in that. And just like that, (Y/N) has gotten the position.
Bruce could see that (Y/N) was doing his job well. Always on time, organizing everything and making sure that everything is going like it's supposed to be. If there are changes, (Y/N) makes sure to adjust accordingly.
And sooner than later, Bruce started falling for (Y/N). He couldn't stop it. Bruce started catching feelings. Not by choice... But there was a slight problem. Well, not a slight. It's a big one. In some people's eyes, but still...
It's the big age gap in between him and (Y/N). (Y/N) is in his mid 20s and Bruce is in his mid 40s. In some cases, age gaps are frowned upon, but sometimes isn't... So... Bruce was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He wanted to act on his feelings, but then again, it would be unprofessional.
Beyond belief.
No questions asked about it. Inappropriate beyond belief. No.
But Bruce wanted (Y/N). Deep, deep down, he wanted to make (Y/N) his, but there was yet another fear. Bruce didn't want to be used as an ATM or a walking check. He wanted to be seen for who he was. But he could see that (Y/N) wasn't like that. That he didn't care about the money or his connections.
The work day has finished and Bruce was getting ready to leave the office. He left his office and saw that (Y/N) was still sitting down at his desk, jotting something down on a piece of paper.
" Don't work overtime. It's a Friday, you should go home and take the weekend off. " Bruce passed by (Y/N), who chuckled.
" I'm just making notes on what to do on Monday. I would like to know what I'm doing when I come back, " (Y/N) responded to Bruce, lifting his head to look at Bruce when he pressed the button to summon their private elevator.
" Just don't take too long, alright? " Bruce said before entering the elevator. " Have a nice evening. "
(Y/N) nodded. " You too. "
The elevator doors closed and (Y/N) kept writing something down, making sure to leave himself notes and reminders, to know what to do when he gets back to the office on Monday. If he didn't, he wouldn't have remembered what to do on Monday and he would have to wrack his brain to remember what the wanted to do.
And on a Monday morning none the less.
Not gonna happen.
After finishing up the notes, he packed up and went to the private elevator, pressing a button to summon it back up. He waited patiently, thinking about his plans for the weekend. Grocery shopping, cleaning... Sleeping is a must as well.
He stepped into the elevator once the doors opened and stepped in, pressing the button to go down to the underground garage. Thankfully, he had a place reserved with his name on the spot. Like, painted down so that everyone knows that the spot is his.
Which Bruce made sure happened.
(Y/N) unlocked his car and put his bag onto the passenger seat before settling down into the driver's seat. Just then, a hand went over his mouth and he could feel a cold barrel of a gun pressed to his temple. He froze, tensing up.
" Don't scream. You are going to drive. I'll lead you. " The man said and (Y/N) noticed a ski mask on his face. (Y/N) did what he was told, he didn't want to be hurt. He didn't want to die.
Bruce went nuts over the next week. Trying to find (Y/N) was hard and he knew that every minute mattered. In kidnappings, every second matters. He worked tirelessly, trying to figure out where (Y/N) is, who took him and why he was taken. Information? Sure, he knows Bruce's schedule, knows some personal information...
Bruce sighed quietly as he looked over the sleeping (Y/N) in the hospital bed. He was beaten black and blue, some broken ribs and a bad concussion. Doctors did everything, but at the moment, (Y/N) was sleeping, as Bruce would like to think for now. He knew the process very well and he was worried beyond belief.
And he was sure that his children were starting to catch up on the feelings he had for (Y/N). He didn't know how they would feel about it. A 20 year age gap is nothing small. It's a huge thing. Not a small thing. And even now, as he was sitting next to (Y/N), holding his hand, worried that he will slip from his grasp if he lets go.
If anyone was to walk in, would it be a sight.
It made Bruce chuckle, despite the situation he was in. And the situation that (Y/N) was in. He was expecting a miracle that (Y/N) woke up soon.
And that miracle came in the sight of (Y/N) opening his eyes slowly. Bruce removed his hands from his slowly and watched as (Y/N) woke up slowly, blinking at the lights.
" Good morning. You were out for a while, " Bruce said, watching as (Y/N) was slowly starting get back to his senses.
" I'm alive? "
" Very much so. "
" The kidnappers? "
" Batman took care of them, " Bruce said and (Y/N) nodded, not knowing that Batman was in the room with him. And Batman really took care of them, if you know what he means.
(Y/N) nodded, happy to hear it.
" How bad did the do me? " (Y/N) lifted his head slightly to look at Bruce.
" Pretty well, I have to say. But you'll make a full recovery... Can you tell me what they wanted from you? " Bruce asked softly and (Y/N) sighed, clearly wanting to lift his hands, but stopping due to IVs. Bruce knows that (Y/N) has a big fear of needles.
" Don't look at your arms, alright? Just talk to me. "
" They wanted info on you. I think they wanted to rob or... Take your sons, something like that, it's all a bit blurry. But to sum it up, they wanted to get money. That's the only thing they wanted. "
Bruce tensed up at that. His sons can defend themselves, but still... No father wants to hear that. No parent actually wants to hear that.
" I didn't tell them anything, " (Y/N) added and Bruce felt relieved, but he knew that (Y/N) wouldn't ever say anything. He knew that (Y/N) grew fond of his sons and also, who would break when it came to protecting children?
Even though those children are able to fight off anything thrown at them.
But still, not breaking and keeping his mouth shut for his children filled Bruce's heart with more love.
" Now, there is something I would like to propose to you and honestly, I won't take no for an answer. You are coming to live with me to the manor, where I can keep an eye out and you can rest comfortably, " Bruce said, trying not to laugh at (Y/N)'s shocked expression.
" Bruce, I can- "
" You can accept and you will. I am not taking no for an answer. I feel partially responsible for the way you were taken. I really need to up the security in our underground garage... And maybe move your spot closer to the entrance of the elevator, " Bruce muttered the last part to himself and (Y/N) wanted to laugh, but it would hurt, so he opted to smiling.
" Bruce, don't beat yourself up. "
" Kind of have to. I'm responsible for the security of my employees. "
And with that, (Y/N) moved to the manor. The sons were hoping that Bruce would finally act on his feelings, but knowing his emotional constipation, it will be a long while. Jason was amused by the entire situation. Dick was happy that Bruce might find someone, despite the big age gap. Tim was just existing and too tired to care and Damian was not impressed, but tolerated (Y/N).
Alfred had experience in taking care of others after such events, so he made sure that (Y/N) was comfortable, despite (Y/N) clearly not wanting to seem like he was imposing or being an inconvenience. Alfred was having none of that. He would pop in a lot, making sure that (Y/N) has everything that he needed.
And (Y/N)?
He felt like he was imposing, despite Bruce inviting him into a manor. A manor. A house that's huge and has more than enough rooms to host anyone who it needs.
He felt out of place. And he felt something that he shouldn't feel for his boss. Who is older by what, 20 years? He knows that it would be improper to date his boss. The fact he's older and how many male celebrities have younger partners? But they didn't really start as assistants, did they?
Anyhow, he didn't know how to feel.
At all.
" (Y/N)? " Bruce called gently as he came into the living room, where (Y/N) was sitting. The boys were all around the house and they were all alone in this part of the house.
" Yes? " (Y/N) turned his head to look at Bruce. He was sitting at the couch as he watched TV, some news that he really didn't care about them.
" Can I talk to you about something? " Bruce sat down next to him and (Y/N) nodded. Bruce sat down next to him and turned to face him fully.
" I want you to listen to me for now. I have to be honest with you. I have feelings for you and I want to take you out on a date. " Bruce said quickly and (Y/N) had to blink a few times to even realize what was said.
" Come again? "
" I have feelings for you. I want to take you out on a date. And I don't care about the age gap. Is it a bit concerning? Maybe. But, I only met you as an adult. Have I met you while you were a minor first and then again as an adult. That's something that I hate myself. But since we met as adults... I don't see a problem with it. "
(Y/N) did like that thought. Not meeting when one is a minor is a great thing because (Y/N)'s thought process doesn't like the fact that if one is an adult and meets the other one while a child...
" I don't either... But... Where would be even having that date? "
" Oh don't worry about it, my name opens up a lot of doors, " Bruce said softly, smiling, happy that (Y/N) has decided to accept it.
" Great... "
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Spring Showers
〚 Notes - Hello! This was based off this: request! I was meant to post this yesterday I think but something came up. Hopefully this is enjoyable, honestly feels good to write again :) 〛
〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - When you’re sick, your day goes from bad to worse. A small car breakdown later and you find yourself unexpectedly bumping into Natasha. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 2681 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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Waking up that fresh spring morning, you rolled over to snooze the alarm that had pulled you out of your slumber, hitting it lazily before letting gravity take control and send your arm flopping over the edge of the bed.
You groaned a little as it hit the edge of your bed, rubbing your elbow with an annoyed look as if somehow death-staring the metal frame would make up for it.
As you begrudgingly got out of bed, the chill of the early morning hit you, sending a shiver down your spine. You had to admit felt a bit off, today. Your head heavy and your throat scratchy but you ignored the signs of fatigue and finished getting dressed and ready for the day.
Nat was always one to be up and out early in the mornings. Running, training or sometimes even just reading, whatever it was, she was definitely up and ready for her day before sunrise. Early bird gets the worm? Well, the early widow gets her 90-minute workout in without being disturbed. She liked it that way.
Unfortunately, it meant you usually weren’t able to see her most days before heading out to work - the rare exception being when you were on a late shift and got a few extra hours at home before heading out.
You weren’t an Avenger like your girlfriend, instead you served the people of New York by working in the local hospital as the Chief Nurse in charge. It was a demanding job, but one you found incredibly rewarding.
The pouring rain grabbed back your wandering attention as you sat sleepily over your chosen bowl of cereal. You hadn’t really had an appetite but had forced a few bites down regardless before you lost interest. Checking your phone, you realised you needed to set off, so you grabbed your car keys and headed out the compound.
As you pulled into the hospital's parking lot, you mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. You tried to clear your throat as you checked yourself over in the mirror, but it ended in you coughing raspily and sighing in defeat as you rubbed your throat. Maybe water would get rid of the soreness, you thought as you took a tentative sip from your bottle… nope, it still hurt. What a fun day this was going to be.
Whoever said being in charge was fun, was sorely mistaken. Throughout the morning, you found yourself raising your voice more often than usual to be heard over the cacophony of the emergency room. By midday, your voice had started to crack and strain, sending sharp pains down your throat with each word.
Eventually you resigned yourself to your office, sick (literally) of the mix of pitiful, disgusted and annoyed glances you were receiving from both residents and patients.
As you sat in your office, trying to soothe your aching throat and mustering the energy to tackle the mountain of paperwork on your desk, the hospital intercom made you jump as it crackled to life, urgently calling you to the ER.
You groaned but despite your muscle’s aching, your instincts kicked in, and you rushed out of your office towards the ER.
As you entered the chaotic room, your senses were assaulted by the echo of urgent voices and the sharp smell of antiseptic made your eyes water.
You had barely assessed the ongoing situation before a sudden sneeze erupted from you, surprising yourself with its volume. You’d quickly covered your mouth, but the damage was done. Several heads turned in your direction, eyebrows raised in concern.
Before you could even attempt to explain, your boss appeared, her expression a mix of concern and sternness. "What are you doing here, Y/N?" She asked, her tone indicating she already knew the answer.
You tried to muster a response, but your throat rebelled, emitting only a hoarse croak instead.
Your bosses' eyes softened slightly, an understanding look settling on her face. "You're ill," She stated matter-of-factly. "Go home, rest, and don't come back until you're fully recovered. We don’t need you starting an epidemic.”
Despite your protests, she ushered you out of the ER and back to your office to collect your belongings. She helped you collect your things, only stopping to hold a thermometer to your ear as she checked your temperature.
You thanked her hoarsely as she held open the door for you, “Seriously, I don’t want you back until 48 hours after that fever breaks.” She warned with a stern tone but the gentle pat on your back made it obvious she was just worried that’s all.
As you stepped out of the hospital, the chilly rain immediately soaked through your clothes, sending shivers down your spine. You dropped your keys twice as you fumbled to unlock your car, finally flopping down behind the wheel with an drained sigh - a sigh which your crackling lungs despised, reprimanding you in the form of a burning cough.
As you drove home, the rain beat relentlessly against the windshield, blurring the already dimly lit road ahead. Each cough sent a sharp pang through your chest, and your vision blurred with exhaustion. You tried to focus on driving safely, your mind drifting to the warmth of your bed and girlfriend waiting for you at home. Not long now…
But just as you approached a traffic light, your car sputtered, the engine emitting a series of ominous noises before finally giving out with a pathetic wheeze. Panic seized you as you coasted to the side of the road, hazard lights flashing weakly in the rain.
You tried to restart the engine, but it only responded with a feeble groan before falling silent again.
“Oh you piece of shit!” You slammed your hand on the wheel as the car’s engine light flickered an angry red, “Stupid, fucking-“ An awful cough broke off your curse, your grip on the wheel turning white as your lungs burned.
After you caught your breath, you leaned back in your seat, feeling utterly defeated. Each raindrop seemed to mock your predicament, drumming against the windshield like a cruel taunt. With a heavy heart and a pounding headache you pulled out your phone - fighting back exhausted tears as you saw the critical low battery warning flash up on the screen.
You didn’t know the number of any breakdown services or anyone that could really be of help. The most you were able to do was to text Tony to ask him to help you move your car tomorrow. He had always been quick to respond so you found your spirits lifting just an inch higher when he agreed. However, those spirits were surely crushed when you opened up the Uber app on your phone only for the screen to turn black, taunting you with the picture of an empty battery.
“For fucks sake!”
There was nothing more you could do. You’d just have to walk. Nobody was coming to save you. You were a grown girl. You can look after yourself. There was a grocery store just down this road, maybe 10 minutes or so. You’d be able to stop there, rest, maybe pick up a few supplies. There’d be a phone there too, you’d be able to call someone to pick you up.
As you trudged through the rain, each step heavier than the last, you had to practically drag yourself down the street as your congested lungs begged for air. It was hard for see through the constant rain; the whistling of the wind made your ears throb. The chill of your soaked clothes clung tightly to your skin, and the coughing fits continued to rack your exhausted body until finally you’d made it.
You didn’t wait any longer before heading inside. The bright fluoresce of the lights made your eyes sting a little but this was miles better compared to being outside getting battered by the rain.
With each stumbling step, you grabbed a basket make your way to find some medicine. You just wanted something to make you feel better, just anything that would put an end to your awful day.
Maybe you should get some actual groceries whilst you where did. It wouldn’t hurt to stock up the cupboards a little, you might as well consider you were here.
Little did you know your girlfriend was already one step ahead of you.
Natasha’s eyes widened a little as she strolled down the aisle, pushing along half a cart of groceries as she hummed. Y/N? What were you doing here? This was a pleasant surprise and she kept quiet as she snuck up to you.
“Hey bub.” Her warm voice murmured, and you felt familiar arms wrap around the front of your waist. Natasha’s head came to rest on your shoulder as she nosied at what you were looking at, “I thought we agreed that I’d be doing groceries this week.” She purred, kissing the side of your neck sweetly.
You shrugged through gritted teeth, your damp clothes crinkling uncomfortably, “I just needed something.”
“Hold on.” Her brow crinkled just a little, “I thought you had work?” She paused, her face shifting slightly as she realised just how soaked you were. This was not the kind of damp someone got just walking from the car to the entrance. You were drenched! “God, you’re soaked Y/N! Where on earth have you been? Did you walk here?!”
Your eyes cast to the floor. You’d forgotten that it was usually the day that the two of you had gone grocery shopping. Of course, it hadn’t even occurred to you that Nat might’ve been in the store.
“I may have got a little damp.” You sniffled thickly, trying to keep your tone neutral but the painful rasp in your voice instantly gave yourself away, “…and my car may or may not have broken down coming back from work.”
Natasha's concern deepened as she noticed your raspy voice. "Oh, sweetheart, you should have called me. I would've come to pick you up." Her voice softened, filled with genuine worry. Her grip tightened around you a little. “You're not just ‘damp’, you're practically drenched and- oh, what’s this?” Her eyes glanced down, noticing the theme of items in your own basket.
She had just about to ask you about them, but her question was answered when you ducked into your elbow with two forceful sounding sneezes barely seconds later.
“Double bless you!” Her tone shifted instantly to one of comfort, “Guess I don’t need to ask why your voice is so hoarse and you’re buying meds then, hm?” She cooed and you turned around with a pout, letting your head fall onto her shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her.
“You’re not feeling well.” It wasn’t a question, she just looked at you, looking deep into your weary eyes as she continued to hold you, “How long?”
You let out a small cough into her shoulder, “This morning. Got worse at work, got sent home which was beyond embarrassing.” Your croaking voice mumbled in defeat as Nat’s hand came to soothingly rub your back.
“I’m so tired and achy.” You continued, grumbling softly, finally feeling the weight of the day begin to let up as Nat continued to hold you in the moment, “My throat’s been so bad all day and I’ve had to constantly yell at people to do their jobs properly because apparently they’re all incompetent idiots that don’t know their elbows from their arse!”
Natasha couldn’t help but laugh a little at your choice of words but quickly shut up when you shot her a glare - of course the glare had been in no way intimidating with your sleepy eyes and runny nose, but she got the hint regardless.
“Sounds rough sunshine.” She murmured, sympathetically rubbing your back before the two of you began to walk towards another aisle, “Let me get those for you, oh and the car?” She asked, realising you hadn’t explained.
Nat took the basket from your hand and put it in her cart despite your objections, “It just decided to give up on me, right in the middle of driving home. I text Tony and he said he’d get it moved tomorrow but then my phone died before I could call an uber so I had to walk the way back.” You coughed harshly as you explained what had happened, rubbing your throat with a whine.
“That’s some awful luck sweetheart, I’m sorry. How about we get you a few things and just spend the rest of the day being warm and cosy?” Nat offered as a pulled a stuffed animal from the shelf, nuzzling it against your cheek before putting it into the cart.
Your face lightened up a little and you found yourself keeping a little closer to her as the pair of you continued through the store, “You wanna get some ice cream for that poor throat of yours sweet girl?” She asked, but of course she already what the answer would be.
As you nodded eagerly, Natasha smiled, glad to see a hint of brightness returning to your expression. She led you to the freezer section, picking out your favourite flavour without hesitation. "Here we go," she said, placing it gently in the cart beside you. "Oh, and we should get some tea as well, all we have is that herbal stuff Wanda likes but it’s kinda bitter, you’ll feel better with something sweeter. I think.”
She kept her hand softly holding your own you both headed over to find the tea - occasionally pausing as Nat picked up some of the general groceries you needed but it was hard to miss how she kept adding in small treats for you along the way, your favourite drink, snacks she even chose your favourite scent of laundry detergent.
Eventually your fever raging brain felt too fuzzy to keep paying attention, so you switched off, trusting her enough to let her lead you along without asking questions.
Her voice seemed to echo and your vision blur before a hand cupping your cheek brought you back to reality. “Hey, earth to Y/N.” Natasha repeated herself, “You dazed out for a second there sweetie. Did you hear what I said?”
“Uh, no, sorry.” You answered sheepishly, warm embarrassment creeping up into your cheeks.
But Nat only smiled at you, her warm gaze making you relax, “I asked what tea you’d like baby.”
You nodded and turned to look over the assortment of boxes. You weren’t much of a tea person, in fact you never really drank it at all unless you were sick and Nat was definitely more of a coffee girl, herself. As you looked over the selection, a sudden sneeze caught you off guard, you stumbled back a little and bumped into Nat which made your girlfriend shake her head fondly as you sniffled in surprise.
“Bless you again. Looks like we’ll need some more tissues," She deducted, kissing your cheek swiftly before jogging back to the previous aisle, quickly returning with a few extra boxes and added them to the cart.
"You poor thing," Nat said sympathetically, as she opened one of the boxes in the cart and handing you a tissue. "Here, blow your nose love.”
“Thanks.”
“Berry-Bliss?” She read the name of the tea you’d chosen, after you’d finished blowing nose. “Is that one the kind you want?”
You shrugged sluggishly, biting back a groan as your muscles ached, “I’ll give it a try.”
“Worth a try.” She agreed, taking the box from you, not missing the chance to kiss your forehead as she did so. “You’re really warm baby. How about we pay up and get you back home sweetheart? I know you’re exhausted.”
As she suggested heading home, you nodded gratefully, taking her hand and letting her lead you towards the check outs. It wouldn’t take long to pay and get home but when you did, you knew you were in for an evening of cuddling and love.
Who could ask for more?
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INVASION OF PRIVACY
It was roughly 10 at night when Poppy stumbled into her shabby apartment. The sky was pitch black — winter was approaching so daylight seemed to lessen — and a chill swirled in with the wind that seemed to pick up a bit since Poppy had first departed.
She had gone out with a few friends who didn't know how to keep time the best and always somehow got alcohol to be the main hydration system for them — despite its dehydrating qualities. Poppy wasn't drunk but even the small amount of liquor in her body set it ablaze.
Poppy threw her jacket off and keys somewhere she'd curse herself for forgetting later and staggered into her quaint kitchen, she grabbed one of her glass cups and filled it up with tap water that was probably flooded with tons of metals and chemicals that a person's body shouldn't be filled with — but who was going to stop her.
She trailed her hands absentmindedly up and down her body, grasping at the side of her neck lightly before trailing that very same hand just over her breasts and keeping it flat on her stomach.
She guzzled the water down with small droplets escaping, wandering down her chin and almost making it to her neck before she wiped it off.
It wasn't until she finished her glass of water did she hear the light murmur of her tv playing in her conjoined living room.
“Fuck.” she cursed, making her way there but the blare of her phone stopped her, she dug her hand into the back pocket of jeans pulling it out and answering without looking at the caller id.
“Yelloo!” she slightly slurred into the phone, less from intoxication and more from the fact that her energy bar was draining fast at this point.
“Hello my ass!” it was Poppy's friend on the other end, her tone was scornful. “ You said you would call first thing when you got home!”
Poppy rolled her eyes,“Calm down.” She started walking back to the TV to turn it off, not wanting to run her bill up even more “ I literally just got here, I didn't do anything besides get a drink of water mom.” she was thankful for their concern and was going to for sure call them but she wanted to get settled before anything.
Poppy stood in front of the television, a Male news anchor gazed back at her —she turned the appliance off — just barely catching the headline which said something about ‘aliens’, which made poppy scrunch her face up and shake her head. The news seemed to lose its meaning more and more everyday.
Her friend was still lecturing her through the phone but Poppy's mind just trailed, “ Okay okay, I get it Mel, I love you, I'll talk to you tomorrow, goodbye.” she rushed and hung up the phone, not letting ‘Mel’ get another word in.
She let out an agitated sigh.
Poppy shut off the minimal lights that she had turned on when she returned and traversed her way towards her bedroom. Relaxation to the highest degree was the only thing on her mind.
She grasped at the light switch and scrolled through the many colors her LED lights had and stopped on the purple color, giving her room that tranquil lavender hue that she loved. It was relaxing yet sensual, somehow — it described how Poppy was feeling in the moment.
Poppy glided over towards her dresser, going into the exact drawer that held her vibrator — it was pink, it wasn't extremely long (about 6 inches) and it obviously vibrated — it got the job done and that's all that mattered, especially now.
“Hey buddy!” she cood at it, getting even more excited at the thought of her pussy dripping all over it while she fucked herself through as many orgasm as she could.
She threw it onto her queen sized mattress and started undressing, she already unknowingly took her shoes off somewhere near the door — she peeled her snug high waisted dark wash jeans off, leaving her standing only in her subtle yellow thong that contrasted beautifully on her bronze skin.
Next was the random cropped sweater she threw on just before leaving the house, under it was a matching bralette to the thong. The sheer imagery of herself turned her on more.
Poppy loved herself, some could say in a cocky way — but wasn't that the best. She knew her body like the back of her hand, as she should, and loved pleasing herself. She loved figuring something out with her body that nobody else could. The thrill was like none else.
She slid on top of her fluffy comforter, making sure her body was positioned in the most comfortable way — she also aligned herself so she could be facing the mirror that adorned her wall.
Poppy spread her legs and pushed them towards her chest, she could just make out her figure in the mirror due to the purple lights. It added a different layer of scenery, a sight Poppy loved.
Her left hand grasped at her left breast, she kneaded it through the thin cloth. Twisting her nipple between her fingers, a small whimper left her mouth. A small pool slowly seeped through her panties, making the fabric turn a bit sheer, outlining her pussy lips.
She moved the bralette down to let her nipples free, the clothing article still grasped the cusps of her breasts — the air hit the buds making them harden all the more. The same hand came back up and dipped into her mouth, she wet the fingers enough before bringing them back down and circling the erect nipple.
Her hips had a mind of their own, moving to cause some kind of friction. She was needy.
Poppy grabbed at the vibrator with her free hand — she instantly turned it on and delicately placed it over her clothed pussy.
“Oh.” she moaned, her back faintly arching. Applying much needed pressure, the vibrator slid between her restricted folds, brushing against her pulsing clit. The action caused a bit of a tremor in her legs.
“Fuck” tucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she kept a steady teasing pace, every now and then she would skim over her clit. The pace she was going was torturous.
Poppy eventually laid the toy down — although she didn't turn it off, it laid there while it lowly buzzed — she discarded the last pieces of clothing off her body with all speed. She needed to see every inch of her body, she needed to see all of her awaiting chest and the purple light to glisten off her pussy in all its entirety. She needed the full visual.
She disregarded the clothes and with no hesitation dipped two of her fingers into her slick folds. Poppy wanted, no needed a taste of her essence, she tucked those fingers into her mouth and moaned at the taste, she swirled her tongue around the digits before releasing them with a pop. A little saliva dripped down her body but she rubbed the rest right back onto her pussy, creating an — if even possible — wetter mess.
It didn't take long for the vibrator to be right back into her good grasp.
Poppy drug the toy from her clit to her leaky entrance and then back to her clit, she repeated this process two more times before dipping the head in. Throwing her head back, “Shit!” she hissed. She didn't dare to push it in all the way, she lived for the build up.
The way her stomach clenched and legs seemed to have a mind of their own, toes curling and pleasurable sounds getting caught in her throat. It was an euphoric feeling.
A — what she thought — was a familiar sound coming through the walls. She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore her ignorant neighbors, this wasn't the first time that they've had a problem with controlling the volumes in their abode. It didn't help that the sound that had interrupted was loud and shook the walls a bit.
“Fuckers probably dropped something heavy.” Poppy seethed but nestled into her bed, pushing the vibrator in more and more. She'd be damned if she didn't get her orgasm tonight.
“Oh fuck~” she let out when it hit a certain point, if she curved it up just a tad more she was sure she could brush up against her g-spot.
‘BOOM!’ The building shook again, faint screams were heard and to anyone in their right state of mind — they would've known that those screams were not full of anger or passion but of fear, jumbles of genuine panic.
Maybe it was the few drinks she had earlier, maybe it was the orgasmic haze she was building to that clouded her better judgment — that made her think that the world was just trying to make sure she didn't reach her most high. “Please, shut the fuck up! Please!”
Poppy screamed. Her chest heaved and skin warmed with irritation, she was pissed. The buildup was gone and anger replaced it. She was so heated that she didn't notice the eerie silence … or the thunderous footsteps that sliced through it.
When she did notice the silence though, it was too late.
The same queen size bed she resided in slid forward, the wall behind it breaking with such force that it caused the piece of furniture to move like it weighed near to nothing — debris flew all over the room and a dusty cloud disturbed her vision, she wasn't able to make out anything but knew from the bottom of her heart she wasn't alone anymore. Poppy's chest heaved with a total different type of emotion, terror.
She was scared.
Her body shook but not with pleasure, not with urgency — well not with that specific urgency but the urgency to live. She knew she wanted to get out of this situation alive, she didn't know how she was going to go about that. Especially when she laid eyes on her guest. The smoke screen dispersed.
Through the mirror that still was across from her, just closer in space, she saw something. Something so tall that it bent down slightly to fully come into the makeshift door it made. Its face was covered with a mask and it had locs on its head, adorned with gold ringlets and other tribal jewelry. Its body was covered in armor and it held a spear in its hand, not like a wooden or traditional spear.
This spear looked Mechanical, it looked as if it wasn't just a spear and even if it was, Poppy didn't want to be on the bad end of it.
You could barely make out its beady eyes from the mask but it was close enough to Poppy to where she could see the light shine off the black orbs.
.”Please don't kill me.” a cry slipped from her lips, tears coming down wetting them in the process “ please, i'll do anything, please don't kill me.” she pleaded, her eyes conveying her vulnerability. It didn't matter that she and whatever stormed into her bedroom didn't remotely share any similar DNA, and the fact it most likely didn't understand a word she was saying.
She was going to beg. She was going to appease whatever sympathetic — if it even had one — bone it had in its body.
The tears continued to flow and her mind started to wander. She thought about how quickly her life had become in danger, she thought about her friend and how she so easily brushed her off. She thought about how rudely she said goodbye, not knowing how those words would literally be the last words shared between them.
The thoughts made her cry harder — the steps it took so casually towards her, made her go into hysterics.
Poppys' back was pressed against the headboard as if it could shield her, she wouldn't dare turn around and become so close within range, cutting off the mere moments of life she had left. She gazed into the mirror and watched it come closer with no worry. Why would it worry though? It knew where the superiority lied.
It was behind her, the only thing that separated them was the splintering wood of what was left of the headboard. Poppy watched it through her tears.
She watched as it gazed down at her like she was a foreign specimen, as its left appendage came and caressed her head — not as if to soothe her but to make an observation as of what she was. This didn't console her, not one bit.
She felt its rough armored covered hand trail its way down her body, tracing over her neck and coming down her chest — it grazed her nipple causing her breath to hitch. A familiar tingle making an appearance at inappropriate timing, Poppy just blamed it on how the human body worked, this is how the body functioned.
It didn't stop its journey. Only when it made its way down to the soppy mess between Poppy’s thighs did it momentarily halt. Detouring if you will.
Poppys clit throbbed as she watched through the mirror, fear entwined with need — a treacherous combination.
The rough hand came in contact with her folds, swiping through and collecting her present arousal. The action was so fast and powerful that a jolt shot through Poppy and she couldn't help the small whimper she had let out.
Tears falling sporadically now, but the full fledged sobbing stopped. She wanted to live but if she were to die, how could she save a life that wasn't hers any longer?
She was miniscule compared to this thing, even slightly bent and playing with her essence it still cast many shadows on her, staying heads above her.
She wasn't paying attention to what it had been studying as she had been studying it. So when it slid a thick, long digit into her soaking folds it had caught her by surprise — her hands shooting up to hold its armored arm and hips jutting forward to meet the calculative thrusts it gave.
“ mhm” she moaned out and rolled her hips at the sensation, her stomach clenching for numerous reasons. Its finger moved around inside, giving her the same fullness as the toy that was inside her mere moments ago.
It curled up, hitting her g-spot, “oh fuck” she cursed, her hips starting to run away on their own but the finger was never far behind and without mere moments to spare she orgasmed all over its fingers.
Her body twitching from the fresh release and her mind not really focusing on the important things. In a way she was almost relaxed.
Till her body flew forward half a foot, she was now on her stomach and face mere inches away from the same mirror that's been the only witness to tonight's ventures. It had smoothly landed on her bed, somehow without making much noise and crouched behind her. She took notice of its strong hind legs.
Poppy's mind went to the news anchor she had silenced, she thought about the headline — Alien. She mentally scoffed, of all things an alien would become the first honest thing anyone has reported in such a long time and yet because of the same deception they casted into homes, Poppy couldn't take the news seriously. She couldn't shield her life.
The alien grasped at the sheathing that adorned its abdomen and nether region, it clicked around before the armor popped off with an almost undetectable hiss.
The covering slid off its chiseled body and Poppy could not help the strangled gasp that left her — when her eyes made contact with its outwardly cock. She didn't know why it astonished her as much, seeing as its stature was much larger than hers.
Its skin was a pale-ish yellow color, and she couldn't help to compare its structure to that of a humans, the way that the muscles were accentuated became vaguely familiar. From its chest, to its abs, the only thing she could honestly differentiate — its bulbous penis — the shape was similar but the size was scary, to say the least.
The otherworldly creature grasped at her hips and tugged her lower half towards it, its cock stood at gruesome attention — its arousal crystal clear. Poppy grasped at her bed covering, she couldn't believe that something like this was happening. How much she wanted it was the craziest part.
She had yet to say a word besides her begging fit earlier and pleasurable sounds from when it had finger fucked her — she was too embarrassed to say anything, she would rather wallow in her shame and its cum quietly. Well as quietly as she could be.
Snatching her from her pitiful thoughts — it dragged its pulsing pre cum dripping head across her wet slit, mixing both of their juices together to create the best lubricant. It let out a hum of approval, the first sound it had made tonight and dare she say, Poppy loved it. How deep and guttural it was made Poppy's stomach clench in the best way.
The alien dipped the head of its hungry cock into her awaiting opening, “oh fuck” Poppy's head lolled forward into the mattress, her mouth was agape and eyes closed as it slid its length inside her. She knew that it wouldn't be able to fit entirely and the thought saddened her, she wanted it all.
When it got in as much as it could it started to move in and out of her wetness, barely giving her time to adjust. Its movements were not humane, yet still calculative. It didn't look down at her with care but as if it were a Predator and she was its prey.
She could feel every groove, bump and vein as it plunged into her — her pussy clenching around it like a glove.
Poppy was so confident in her ability to know her body that it wreaked havoc on her that every time that it pushed into her awaiting pussy it touched her g spot, every time — but yet, she could just merely brush against it.
She couldn't even form coherent words as her second, more powerful orgasm washed over her. Her pussy tightened over its length — which made it growl louder — and creamed all over the resilient alien. It never let up, never gave her a break.
Her body lay limp as she took everything it gave to her, even when it decided to push more of its length inside her battered womb. She could feel her stomach expand everytime it pushed forward, she could only tiredly lay her hand over her stomach as it fucked her into oblivion.
“ Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! “ Each orgasm was more powerful than the last, each one did more and more of the impossible.
With a loud rumble, it grabbed her hips so tightly that she knew they were bruised and the skin most likely scratched and raw — ropes and ropes of cum were dumped into her. It's like they were shooting straight at her g spot, her legs shook fiercely and her pussy squirted — not only her juices but the cum that stained her walls gushed out as well.
Black spots painted her vision, her chest heaving at a worrisome rate.
She knew somewhere in her mind that it knew that she was spent — but this wasn't about her.
Its right arm came around her waist to hoist up her pliable body, it grabbed at her legs so that they sat on its muscular thighs — giving a much better access point.
Poppy was basically sitting on the alien's lap with its cock still stuffed inside, still hard and throbbing as if it didn't just fill her to the brim.
She just leaned back and shivered once her back made contact with some cold metal — her eyes barely able to stay open — she could just about make out their figures in the mirror, she could see the mixtures of cum dripping from where their bodies met. She could see how puffy her pussy was and how glossy its cock was as it maneuvered in and out of her.
Saliva slid out of her mouth and down her chin as the all too familiar feeling started to build back up within her. She knew this one would be the one to make her succumb to darkness and maybe even death, at least it was pleasurable.
She whimpered and whined, her legs planting on its steel thighs as she tried to run away from the feeling — she knew she was fighting a losing battle.
Poppy knew she lost, she knew when its arms circled around her — locking her in — and started pistoning inside her, it seemed as if its cock only knew to hit her g spot. She cried, tears sliding down her face as her pussy leaked and vision became blurry, breathing didn't come naturally and because of that she became lightheaded.
Sobs racked her body as she came, her hands grasping at the arms holding her. Her stomach cramping from her multiple orgasms and the appendage that has now claimed it as its own.
Not once did the Predator stop. It didn't stop when her legs slipped from their settled position. It didn't stop when her hands stopped squeezing its arms. It didn't stop when her head lolled to the right and eyes closed.
It just held her close to its conscious body and let her pussy envelope him with the warm welcome to its new home.
Dedications: @deunmiu-dessie
Banner/Divider: @cafekitsune @pwixi
#alien x human#alien smut#alien invasion#alien invaders#smut#my writing#female writers#writers on tumblr#alien vs predator#alien vs predator smut#yautja#monster fucker#monster smut#alien x reader#alien oc#yautja x reader#yautja x human#yautja x you#slasher x reader#slasher x you#writeblr#female reader
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good for you - rafe cameron
summary: Rafe just wanted to be good. He wanted to be good for her, but somehow he always found a way to mess things up. And of course she’s there to help him clean up the mess.
warnings: angst, fluff, rafe gets arrested, insecurities from rafe
wc: 1.9k
an: hope you all enjoy!! I kinda lost inspo towards the end but regardless I still kinda like it. um also I’m 5 days sober so love that for me, I’m taking a tolerance break to clear my mind & it's helped so much so far.
masterlist
She was laying on her bed reading Pride & Prejudice, trying to stay away from her phone. She was trying to build better habits like not going on her phone before she went to sleep. It was a cool summer night, her balcony doors open letting the smell of the beach enter her room. Her eyes were starting to involuntarily shut as sleep started to overtake her, but she was jolted awake as her phone started vibrating on her night stand.
It was almost 12am who would be calling her at this hour. She peeked over and the name on the screen made a pit in her stomach form. Kildare Sheriff’s Department. She didn’t have a single clue as to why she was getting a call from the police at this hour. Her stomach turned as her mind raced jumping to conclusions like someone she knew being in an accident.
Hesitantly picking up she muttered, “Hello?”
“Hey uh it’s me.”
Her mouth went dry, “Rafe? Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Y/n had only moved to outer banks a few months ago. She had met Sarah one day when she was shopping at a boutique in the figure eight. Being the bubbly outgoing person that Sarah was she invited her to a party going on that night. Usually y/n wouldn’t go to a random party alone but it was summer and how else was she going to make friends. She had promised herself that in the Outer Banks she was going to be different. She wasn’t going to bury herself in her books and be secluded missing out on all the things a teenager should be doing like she had been in her old hometown.
When she arrived at the party she was received with weird looks and she had immediately regretted her decision. She wandered around hoping someone would come up and talk to her or she’d bump into Sarah. Luckily she did bump into her, the girl immediately took her under her wing and introduced her to some people. Y/n even had a few drinks as she talked with the girls she met. She was actually enjoying herself. After a while she went off to find the bathroom, that’s when she bumped into a 6’2 dirty blonde.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” She mumbled stumbling back a bit, her balance a little off after a few seltzers.
Rafe looked down at the girl not recognizing her as a regular at these parties, “No worries.” He smirked, he definitely would have remembered her.
She looked around not really knowing where she was going, “um do you know where the bathroom is?”
Rafe thought she was extremely cute. She was like a lost puppy and he would do anything to help her find her way, “It’s the last door on the right, have we met before?” He asked knowing they definitely haven’t.
“Probably not, I just moved here a couple weeks ago. I’m y/n.” She smiled as she felt her face heating up. She thought he was extremely handsome, he had a slightly cocky demeanor but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t into it. The way he looked at her like she was his prey made her feel something warm in her stomach. In her old town no boy had bothered to give her the time of day so having the attention of someone as handsome as him was overwhelming.
Rafe’s smirk grew, “That makes sense I think I’d remember if we met, I’m Rafe.”
He knew he was a goner when she looked up at him with those big eyes and that smile. Everything about her was captivating to him. He liked looking at her smooth exposed legs in the small skirt she was wearing and her collarbones that were begging to be kissed by him. He also liked the fact that she didn’t know who he was. She had no idea he was a bad person the way everyone said he was.
Ever since that night Rafe and y/n had been practically inseparable. They spent their days together whether it was at the beach while she read her books on the sand in that small bikini while Rafe surfed. Or they’d go to parties together, Rafe’s arm around her the whole night. Not letting her out of his sight and making sure everyone knew she was Rafe’s girl even though they weren’t dating. Rafe hadn’t asked her out yet, he wanted to be better before he made anything official.
Rafe had become better. He wasn’t doing coke anymore and he stopped drinking so much, limiting himself so only a few drinks. He even started doing everything his dad asked him to instead of doing whatever was in his best interest. But Rafe was nowhere near perfect. It’s why he was calling her from the sheriff’s department at midnight. He felt like he had just fucked up all the effort he had made to be better with one stupid night.
He had gone out to a bar with a few friends and he had maybe had a bit too much to drink. Maybe he had a lot to drink and he might of started a fight with some guys. Which resulted in him being taken to the police station to sit in the drunk tank or be picked up by someone. He had one phone call and he couldn’t call his dad, he’d just yell at him and let him stay there over night. His friends weren’t the most reliable people and Sarah wasn’t exactly going to jump at the opportunity to help him. He only knew one person who would help him, but he felt embarrassed by his actions. This isn’t the Rafe he wanted her to know, but he was desperate.
“I’m o-okay. Can you come pick me up?” He hiccuped, “I fucked up y/n. Please can you come.”
She was already steps ahead of him. She had began putting on an oversized sweatshirt and her sneakers. Rafe meant a lot to her, he was one of the only people that actually listened to her. He saw her in ways that no one ever tried to. She would do anything for him. She had heard a few rumors about him but she didn’t pay any attention to them because it seemed like that Rafe was gone. Her Rafe was gentle, kind, smart, and protective.
“Of course Rafe. I’ll be there soon okay?” She said hoping to calm him, she could hear him sniffle lightly.
“I’m so sorry y/n,” He said in an almost whimper.
She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. I’ll be there soon okay?”
“Okay. Thankyou y/n.”
“Anything for you Rafey.” She smiled just thinking about him. His heart clenched at the nick name, how could she be so perfect. How could she not be angry with him for being so stupid.
When she arrived at the police station she went up to the front desk and nervously looked around. Waiting for someone to come up and help her.
“Hi, what can I do for you?” Shoupe asked as he appeared from around the corner.
“Hi um I’m here to pick up Rafe Cameron,” She said almost uncertain.
He nodded his head, “I’ll go get him, if you can just fill out these papers for me.”
“Mhmm thankyou,” she smiled sweetly.
Shoupe walked back around the corner and down the hall to the holding cell. Rafe sat there his head in his hands.
“Cameron, let’s god.” He started unlocking the door to let the young man out.
Rafe stood up quickly, because she actually came. A part of him worried that you wouldn’t show up. She’d see what a mess he was calling her at midnight and just leave him there. He couldn’t wait to see his girl. Shoupe walked him out to the front and there she stood in his sweatshirt and some sleep shorts. He felt a pang of guilt go through him knowing he disturbed her.
“Rafe,” She said letting out a relieved sigh. He had a cut lip and bruised cheek. His knuckles were cut up and bruised.
He practically ran towards her to hug her. He burried his head in the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of vanilla and shea butter. All of his worries disappeared as he held her.
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled wishing he could just stay this way forever.
“It’s okay, let’s go home.” She pulled away from him holding his face in her hands to examine him better. Her eyes watered slightly as she took in his hurt perfect face.
They walked to her car in silence, she had a million questions but she waited to ask. Once in her car she looked over at him. He looked so broken, so upset at himself.
“What happened Rafe?” She asked.
He looked over at him with watery eyes, “I-I don’t know. One minute I’m having a drink and then another. Then another and another. Then this guy shoulder checked me on his way to the restroom and I-I just lost it. I don’t know why.” He shook his head thinking about how stupid his reason for starting the fight was.
“Rafe, people make mistakes.”
“I’ve made so many mistakes. I just want to be good. I want to be good enough for you, but I’m so stupid, I’m a loser and an idiot. I-I don’t deserve you.”
She leaned across the console and held his face in her hands rubbing her thumbs gently across his cheek bones, “Don’t say that. Rafe I would come get you from here every day if you needed me to. You can’t be so hard on yourself, it matters to me that you’re trying to be good. You are good. I’ve never once thought that you weren’t.” She cared for him more than he would ever know.
He couldn’t find any words to say because none existed that would describe how much love he had for her. No one believed in him the way that she did. He reached over mimicking her and placing his hands on her cheeks pulling her into him. His lips meeting hers, his lip hurt as he kissed her. Her hands dropped from his face and moved to his shirt, desperate hands gripping at it trying to pull him closer.
Rafe hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of her mouth on his, something he had been dreaming about for months now. The way their lips moved against each other seemed like they had been doing this forever. She let out a small whimper and it made his head spin. His hand ran down her face to hold the side of her neck, finger entangling in her hair. His other hand moved to her waist. He really wished they were in his bed right now so he could really show her how much she means to him. But he wanted to take things slow with her.
They pulled away, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. She felt so dizzy, all her senses were overloaded on Rafe Cameron.
“Did you know that you’re perfect?” He said quietly.
She laughed softly, “You’re perfect. Come stay with me tonight.
“Anything you want,” He pecked her lips. For the first time in his whole life he didn’t feel less than.
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Your Royal Highness - M. Schumacher
Summary: Y/n gets lost at the Spanish Grand Prix and bumps into Angie, Mick's dog. They build a small friendship. What will happen if princess Y/n and Mick meet? Genre: fluff
The sound of roaring engines and the smell of gasoline filled the air as Princess Y/n stood in the midst of Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya. The third free practice for Formula 1 ended two hours ago, making Formula 2 race their Sprint Race.
She was invited by the organisation, together with her family. The family liked watching any kind of motorsport, especially F1. Well, King Marcos loved the sport since he karted during his younger years, and he had some close friends within the sport. Y/n liked the sport as well, it became a sport she would watch together with her dad. The rest of the family watched it because they were forced to, not because they wanted to.
Y/n was walking around the paddock alone, as she escaped from the press and guards. She wanted to be on her own for a moment; no fake smiling (for as far it is possible due to the facemask), no standard conversations, and not being alert for a moment. But amidst the excitement of being alone and away from everyone, she had somehow lost her way. Y/n was now standing somewhere between cars, trucks, and maintenance stuff. Not the paddock.
Disoriented, Y/n wandered around. She didn't have her phone with her. For a moment, she liked to be alone, not knowing where she was, since she always was spotted somewhere. But she was lost.
Then she saw a dog walking towards her. Y/n stopped walking and crouched down, ensuring she wouldn't lose her balance on the heels she wore. The Australian Shepherd looked disoriented as well. The big eyes gazed at the princess.
"Hey," she softly said. "You are lost too, aren't you?" Y/n put her facemask under her chin and looked around, there was no one around. "I am, actually," she said to the dog. "I have no idea where I am. But we will figure this out together. Your owner needs to be here too," and reached out to pet the dog's head gently.
The dog wagged its tail gratefully, as if it understood her words. Y/n got up, grabbed the lease, and they were walking in a random direction. Y/n put on her facemask again when she faced some people again. At least she was back in the paddock area again, now she had to find someone who would take care of the dog, or find the owner of the dog.
"Hello, there."
Y/n looked at the man who was standing in front of her. Then her eyes fell on the dog, who happily walked to the man and nudged his leg. The man in question was Sebastian Vettel, driver for Aston Martin. Y/n recognised him from his eyes, hair, and of course, his clothes. Sebastian petted the dog. "Is this your dog?"
"This is Angie," Sebastian replied. "She is the dog of a very good friend of mine. Did you find her somewhere or..?"
"Ah, I see. I was lost, and I think Angie was lost too," she replied and politely smiled. She quickly realised Sebastian couldn't see it due to the facemask.
He nodded. "If you have time, we can bring her back to Mick," Sebastian proposed.
That was the Angie. "Sounds like an excellent plan."
Sebastian nodded, his eyes lighting up from probably his smile from under the facemask. Sebastian led the way, with Angie trotting happily beside him. Y/n followed him closely - well, for as far as she could since of the 1,5-metre distance rule. As they walked through the paddock, she couldn't help but see the behind-the-scenes world of Formula 1 through the eyes of a four-time world champion. Y/n and Sebastian spoke about the weekend and their predictions. It was a glimpse into a world she rarely experienced, and she felt increasingly intrigued by the sport's inner workings. Even though Sebastian was a huge personality within the sport, he was a normal man. No titles were sewed to them.
"So, what makes you want to be here?" Sebastian then curiously asked.
Y/n chuckled. "I got invited, actually."
"And you're bored already? Being in the back of the paddock already?" Sebastian chuckled.
"Ah, crap, you got me there," she playfully replied. "No, I was walking around and deep in my thoughts, and then I got lost, I guess. There is so much happening here, can't keep track of it."
"But are you enjoying your time here?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Good, that is what matters."
They neared Haas' area. Y/n never really liked the team - besides the memes and drama they could create. A group of people were in a passionate discussion.
"Mick!" Sebastian called out, disturbing the group. He stopped before the entrance; he obviously couldn't be near them.
Y/n stood slightly behind Sebastian, as she didn't want to stand out. It made her realise it was the first 'normal' conversation she had with someone ever since she arrived. A smile grew on her face when she saw Mick Schumacher's reaction.
Mick's face lit up with surprise and relief when he saw Angie. He apologised to the group of people and walked towards the dog, his friend and the woman. "Angie!" He kneeled down to embrace his dog. "Where have you been?"
Angie responded with delighted barks and a wagging tail.
Her owner looked at Sebastian and then at the woman beside him. He reckoned that she must be a guest from a team's VIP or a VIP in general based on how she was dressed and the energy she showed.
"I found your dog somewhere in the back," Y/n exclaimed. "It seems Angie and I both got lost for a little while."
As their eyes met for the first time, a spark seemed to ignite between her and Mick. Y/n couldn't help but be drawn to the bright colour of Mick's eyes, even from the 1,5-metre distance if it wasn't less.
Mick, too, found himself captivated by her presence. Her eyes were filled with a rare combination of warmth and intelligence.
He chuckled warmly, giving Y/n a grateful nod, still captivated by her presence. "Thank you for bringing her back. She's my troublemaker," he playfully replied, looking back at Angie. "Always finding ways to keep me on my toes when she doesn't get the attention she wants."
It made her chuckle and step towards him, breaking the distance rule. Y/n handed him the lease of Angie. Mick stuck out his hand, grabbing the lease, Their hands touched. It made them both look into each other's eyes immediately. It was like a sparkle got created from their touch.
Y/n cleared her throat and looked away. "No problem, it was my pleasure. She is a delightful companion," she replied, trying to keep it formal enough. She felt a sense of ease and comfort in Mick's presence that she hadn't expected.
As they continued to share glances, the weight of her royal title and fame seemed to fade into insignificance. In that moment, they were simply two people, brought together by a rare moment of bringing Angie back and a shared love for motorsport.
Y/n's heart fluttered under his intense scrutiny, and she found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain. It was as though destiny had woven their paths together, creating a connection that felt both exhilarating and comforting.
Finally, Mick tore his gaze away from Y/n's, returning his attention to Angie. But the spark between them remained, an invisible thread connecting their hearts in a way neither of them could have anticipated.It was just seconds, just a couple of seconds, but so much happened.
"Excuse me," a voice said. "Con permiso," he repeated. It made Y/n and Sebastian turn around. A man was making his way through a crowd. "Y/n, here you are. Your parents almost started a search party," Fernando Alonso mentioned and looked worried, but relieved simultaneously.
Y/n raised her eyebrows.
"Oh, you must be important if people have to start a search party for you," Sebastian chuckled.
Y/n forced a smile. "No, he's only joking," she said, giving Fernando an annoyed look, hoping he would shut up and get the hint.
"Your security almost cleared the track," Fernando continued, ignoring the look. "People are looking for you, Y/n."
It made Sebastian widen his eyes. He turned to look at Mick, who didn't understand what was happening. He turned back to Fernando and Princess Y/n. "Your Royal Highness," he said and nodded down.
Mick got up quickly and did the same, not realising the Princess of Spain had found his dog. "My apologies, Ma'am. I didn't recognise you because of the facemask."
Y/n looked unamused at Fernando, who obviously blew her cover. She turned to the two German drivers and smiled, hoping her eyes would show it too. "It is fine," she replied. "And please, call me just Y/n. But if you will excuse me, my family is looking for me. Good luck on qualifying today, both of you." She petted Angie on her small head and stepped away, walking alongside Fernando.
"What did you do this time?" Fernando asked.
"'What did I do this time?'," she mocked. "Well, I brought Angie back to Mick Schumacher and I met Sebastian Vettel in the meantime," she answered.
"I'm surprised," he responded. "Your people are freaking out because they couldn't find you anywhere," he mumbled, leaning closer to Y/n.
She smirked. "Mateo sucks at his job, then." They both laughed. "But tío Nando, I had a normal conversation for the first time. I would like to disappear more often to have normal conversations like that."
"You tell Mateo and your parents about it," Fernando replied, pushing her to the VIP area.
Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess
#f1#formula 1#ferrari#fanfic#motorsports#formula one#fluff#Fernando alonso fanfic#scuderia ferrari#mick schumacher fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#f1 fic#mick schumacher imagine#mick schumacher fluff#mick schumacher x y/n#Mich Schumacher fanfic#fernando alonso#mick schumacher#sebastian vettel
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