#i've been looking forward to and dreading this for so long

[thegeminisage]

ohhhh it's tng update time. i have a lot to catch up on. wednesday we did "ensign ro" and "silicon avatar" and last night we did "disaster" and "the game."

a brief interruption to amend an error on my previous tng liveblog concerning the episode "redemption." i did NOT mention the part where data got his own command and the first officer was racist to him about it. my brain was so numbed by klingon happenings - and again, they're fine episodes, it was MYYY fault for watching both of those episodes at once AND the second one with a bad connection (we had to reconnect like 1000000 times), but due to this i did straight up forget about data's role here. my thoughts are: this could and should have been the a plot of an entire episode, not the b plot of worf's episode. this late in the game, you kind of run the risk of data's big episodes becoming too same-y - that usually what happens is that someone is misguided or prejudiced in their beliefs about him and are in the end proven wrong - but i think the first command is different enough to be distinct. data building genuine trust with his actions and not his words would have been really fun!! especially if he models his captaining like he does his art - by picking bits and pieces of his real-life examples, like riker & picard. it's a shame they wasted this on a b-plot :(

ANYWAY.

ensign ro: i have to admit i wasnt sure about my girl ro at first. i absolutely support her cause and her beliefs but there was one part where. and i dont remember specifics because this was on wednesday. they like asked her to do something and she didn't and i support her but GIRL if you fuck around and dont do your job they will send you back to space jail. so i was worried that she was stupid in like the literal sense

fortunately she fucking RULES. i liked the part where bev and deanna were like can we sit down :D and she was like no <3 and they had to leave. but i also liked guinan getting through to her and becoming her friend too. i think ro should kiss some women about it (more on this later)

i was kind of bummed riker wasnt the one to let her put her earring back on since he was the dick who made her take it off, but at least she did get to put it back on. i was soooo mad when he made her remove it

LOVE to find out more about the cardassians. i'm excited for that freaky guy and the dr he wants to fuck in ds9, this feels like a real prelude moment

also, love the barber in this episode. in a world where they no longer have to even cook food, haircutting is miraculously still done by hand

silicon avatar: i had a lot of mixed feelings about/issues with this one initially but the ending ultimately took it into watchable territory on account of it popping the fuck off

biggest issue is that they basically retconned the hell out of the first episode this crystal monster was in (the iconic datalore aka "ARE YOU PREPARED FOR THE KIND OF DEATH YOU'VE EARNED LITTLE MAN")

in that ep lore was DEFINITELY able to communicate with it without all the drama and he also communicated enough with it to be like "hey, if you don't eat me, i can show you where lots of edible people are" which solves the question of it's intelligent and whether or not it understands it's eating people. the fact that were uwu woobifying this giant people eating death machine is hilarious but also it stretches my suspension of disbelief way too far. like, get outta here.

second biggest issue was the emotional whiplash from this old lady. first she's racist to data and then she wants to butter him up for therapy reasons and finally she's delusional enough to believe her dead son is in there. i actually did like her arc and the idea that she did something monstrous, but it felt like we had too many things crammed in there...again, i love data and i love when data gets big episodes and moments but i wish we could pump the brakes a little with EVERYONE who meets him being anti android or whatever. even the episode where he gets a gf was a welcome change despite it not being very good because it wasn't just more people having doubts because data is an android. and if I'M tired of it, imagine how HE feels. geez. there was no point in having her start from a place of hostility when it didn't go anywhere and actually i probably would have been more tricked into believing she was normal if she HADN'T come at data like that

THAT SAID, the core story of "i will murder this sentient life form because it killed my son even knowing he would hate me for it" is actually metal as fuck. i really liked it. and i think it was sneaky and clever to have her basically ask to use data as a tape recorder before she fully fell off the deep end because who wouldn't want to hear a recording of a deceased loved one? but it's when she asks again, and basically asks data to roleplay him, that you realize her grief is making her bonkers - or that being around data is bringing too much stuff up.

anyway issues aside the end really fucked. she was like data absolve me of the murder i just committed in my dead son's name and he was like sorry queen i can't! and then they just rolled credits. bonkers.

also, can we pour one out for riker? he got uh. i mean he had all of that going on with beverly like just a handful of episodes ago and i was SOOO hoping he was gonna get laid but instead he got. trauma :(

disaster: i LOVED this one. i loved that it paired characters we don't normally see together - like geordi and beverly for instance - and i loved that quite literally everyone got to get up to batshit insane shenanigans at the same time. picard has to learn to interact with the world's most adorable children. deanna is captain of the starship and she should kiss ro about it. geordi and beverly are gonna open the cargo bay to space some radioactive barrels and while they're holding onto a metal ladder with their BARE HANDS. riker is carrying DATA'S DETACHED HEAD around the crawlspaces and meanwhile in ten forward worf is delivering a fucking baby

side bar which uh exit do we think klingon babies come out of. like if they've got two of everything does the baby just pick one or do they have two whole wombs too...do you think klingons are like "oh most of us come out of the right side but watch out for that guy he's fucked in the head i think he came out of his mom's left vagina" i think that'd be hilarious

anyway worf did a great job.

also pleased with the kids this ep...normally star trek kids aren't uh. great. like they're annoying or weird or just not great actors because, you know, kids. but all 3 of those kids had distinct personalities and they were all extremely charming. absolutely masterful casting. they were so fucking cute

idk why but when deanna became enterprise captain she immediately looked 10x hotter and gayer. her disagreements with ro were FRAUGHT with sexual tension. THEY SHOULD KISS.

that said my one true pairing for tng is always gonna be riker e worf e deanna. hands down best moment for these three so far was when riker was like you just cant stay away from the big chair can you ;) and she was like oh im not cut out to be a captain but maybe i could be first officer since i HEAR there aren't many qualifications and worf gives riker this incredulous double-take like "are you gonna let her get away with that" and he's grinning like oh yeah he's Gonna. there truly is such a horrific lack of sexual/romantic energy in this show but whenever deanna and riker start flirting we finally get fed

the game: MY BABY BOY WESLEY IS BACK..........he got tall i MISSED HIM

i loved the opening of this episode. riker seems to have a 50/50 chance these days on whether or not any given encounter with a woman is gonna be an ethical slut moment or a close encounters moment and i am now referring to this phenomenon as riker roulette. is he getting ethically seduced and/or ethically seducing others? or is it....................you know. anyway rip to him for metaphorically bringing an std back to the enterprise from risa

what was this whole thing with deanna eating chocolate also. is all of season 5 gonna be like this? to be clear i'm not complaining. we have a fucking dearth of, sorry, flirty fun and fresh shippy moments for anyone in tng, generally speaking. it's about time they picked up.

my one gripe with this episode is that it is REALLY AWKWARD to have them set this up as "this VR headset is giving people orgasms" and then twice have wesley's mom try and force one on him. like they didn't say orgasms but the subtitles kept going "pleasured gasp" so idk what i was supposed to think those headsets were doing. like i get this was probably unintentional on their part but i still hated it

also it sucks that wesley got to have a little tea break with picard but didn't have time to hang out with his mom...she was barely in his departure episode, too. the writers clearly prioritize his relationship with picard BECAUSE WESLEY IS THEIR AFFAIR BABY! i will die on this hill. those guys fucked and had a baby and got embarrassed abuot it and now wesley doesn't know he's going to inherit male pattern baldness

okay. that concludes this tng update. normally this is the part where i say, "next, we are doing..." and then i list the episodes. i want to take an extra moment to bring added attention to it this time because this time we are doing two VERY. SPECIAL. EPISODES.

NEXT: UNIFICATION PART I AND PART II

NEXT: SPOCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[xoxoxoxoxos]

.

[finelinefae]

safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.

word count: 5.4k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey

a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333

this is part 2 of bambi, read part 1 here

. . .

Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.

This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.

Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.

She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.

Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.

Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”

Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.

“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.

“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.

“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”

“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”

“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”

His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”

“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”

Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”

“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ‘bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?

“Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”

Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe. 

. . . 

Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother. 

“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.

“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.

“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.

Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”

Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.

“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”

Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”

Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”

Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.

“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.

“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”

She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”

Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”

Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”

“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”

“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”

“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”

Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.

“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.

“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.

“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.

Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said. 

“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.

They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.

“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”

Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”

“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”

“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.

A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.

“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.

Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”

Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”

“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.

“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.

“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.

“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.

Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”

“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”

Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”

Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”

“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.

“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.

“Better.”

“Ice cream?”

Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”

Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.

Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.

Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.

Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.

“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”

Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.

Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

. . .

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.

"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"

Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.

Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."

Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.

Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"

"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.

"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"

She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."

"I do that?" she asked, surprised.

"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."

"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.

"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."

Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"

"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."

Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.

She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.

That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"

Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.

Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.

. . .

Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.

She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.

Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x

A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.

She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.

Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕

Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.

She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.

Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.

You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.

Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x

Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x

Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday

Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage. 

Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.

She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.

“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.

She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”

“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.

Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear. 

The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.

As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.

When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.

Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.

“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”

Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”

Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.” 

Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”

Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good. 

“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.” 

. . .

Y/N liked Lindsey a lot. 

She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.

Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.

Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.

“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.

She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”

Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.

“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”

“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.

“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”

Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.

As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.

In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.

““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”

Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.

“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.

“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.

Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.

Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”

“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.

“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. “Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.

Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.

Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.

Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”

“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”

“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.

A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”

“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”

“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.

“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers. 

“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.

“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”

“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.

“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.

A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”

“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.

Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.

. . .

Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”

“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer. 

“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”

“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house. 

“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?” 

“Y-Yeah, I think so.”

“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.

Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.

Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing

Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!

Harry: Can’t help it Bambi 

Harry: I’m obsessed with you

. . .

taglist ~~

@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy  @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[struggling-with-drivers]

Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen

⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader

⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.

⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort

⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread. 

Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.

"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."

Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.

Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building. 

“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined. 

Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.

However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.

Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange. 

Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."

As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.

"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.

With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.

She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.

Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer. 

Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.

Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.

Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.

“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.

Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.

Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.

Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.

"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.

"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."

You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.

Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.

Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.

In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.

As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.

You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."

Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"

The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."

The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.

"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"

You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.

“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you. 

Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella. 

Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.

It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach. 

“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”

You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.

As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.

"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"

Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."

Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.

"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."

“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.

Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.

"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."

Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.

Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"

“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.

Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"

Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."

Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.

Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.

As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.

When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."

Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."

The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her. 

The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.

Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day. 

When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company." 

Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.

Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."

Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.

"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."

Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.

"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."

Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.

Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.

He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."

You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.

You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.

Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.

You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."

“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”

“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours. 

As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.

Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.

"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."

His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.

You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"

A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch. 

The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.

As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You'll Be Home For Christmas

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You agree to do a favour for your coworker but it might be more than you can handle.

Character: Clark Kent

Day Nineeen of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - fake dating becomes too real.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"I know it sounds weird, but, my mom's getting up there..." Clark looks away as he pokes his tongue into his cheek. 

You're not sure how he does it. How someone like him can make himself look pathetic. He's a big man. Mountainous really. He dwarfs just about everybody in the office. Even the desks look tiny next to him. And the chisel of his face is so sharp yet in that moment, he looks heart-wrenchingly soft. 

"It's just you two this year?" You ask. 

"Um, yeah," he rubs the back of his neck then drags his hand around and down his chest. He shifts in his chair and clears his throat. "Look, I know I can be nosy but I overheard you and Maggie. You said you don't have any plans this year--" He cringes and leans forward, putting his elbows to the desk as he covers his face then peeks out between his fingers. "It's a dumb idea." 

"It seems like you're pretty stressed," you fold your hands behind you. You don't want to agree with his last statement and make him feel worse. 

"Yeah, after Lois..." he shakes his head, "my mom's convinced I'm going to be alone forever and she keeps telling me how old she's getting. Says she wants to live long enough to see me happy." 

"Wow, sounds worse than my mom," you kid but quickly deflate. "Sorry, I'm not trying to make light." 

"No, it's ridiculous," he heaves and drops his eyes. "I've asked two of my neighbours, I asked my mail lady, and oh, yeah, the girl who made my coffee today. I'm all out of shame." 

"Can I think about it?" You ask. You know you're going to say no, but you don't want to do it right away. 

He perks up and his blue eyes flick to meet yours. His brows rise hopefully and he rolls forward in his chair, "really?" 

"I didn't say yes." 

"But you're the first person not to say no," he smiles. 

Oof, there it is. You've always had a hard time in situations like these. You're a people pleaser in the worst way. 

"Anyway, I should get back to work," you say. 

"When-- when will you know?" He asks. 

You hesitate. 

"End of today?" He suggests. 

You nod. Alright. You just need to get out of there before you cave to that puppy dog sparkle in his eyes. A man who looks like that shouldn't be able to make himself so pitiful. 

✨

You don’t know why you said yes. You really were going to say no but when Clark came back to check in, you weren’t prepared. So absorbed in your work, that you forgot about the odd request. 

So here you are, right beside him, wound as tight as a spring as you try not to show it. It’s not how you imagined spending Christmas. When your typical traditional obligation felt through, you were almost relieved. Now that dread has returned but in a new flavour. Meeting someone else’s family is somehow more intimidating than your mother’s judgement. 

Clark’s own anxiety pales in his knuckles as he drives silently. Only the radio provides some softness in the tension between you. It’s always strange to spend time with coworkers outside the office and now you’re jumping headfirst into their most personal facet. 

You fidget in your seat and let your eyes blur out the window. You didn’t expect his mom to live this far, yet you should have. He’d mentioned before he grew up on a farm. It must have been nice in a way, peaceful, out where you can’t hear the city honking and hollering. 

The snow thickens as you get further into the country. His large truck doesn’t falter as he steers cautiously through snowed over tire tracks. Would the plow even get this far out here? If it did, you don’t imagine it would come very often. 

Your mind latches onto those random things to avoid the obvious. You’ve always been this way. Instead of worrying about your mother lecturing you about your stagnant work situation, you’re usually more concerned with how your hair lays or if she’s going to the like that bottle of wine you spent too much money on for her. 

“Thanks again,” Clark’s baritone rolls over you like thunder. “Really. I know it’s... strange. I’m just not ready to date again but... my mom...” 

“Trust me. I get it. My mom can be... a lot,” you chuckle, though it’s really not that funny. 

“Oh yeah? I didn’t want to be nosy, but...” 

“Right, uh, you know, my brother asked if we could have dinner on Christmas Eve instead and the rest of us agreed. She insisted that Christmas Eve isn’t Christmas...” Your heart picks up with the anxiety you bury deep down. “Well, she cancelled Christmas since no one agreed with her.” 

“Wow, really?” 

“Uh, yep,” you can’t look at him. It’s embarrassing. It’s like when your mother dumped your birthday cake in the garbage because you pointed out you were 13 not 12 that year. Or when she walked out of your graduation because your grandmother wouldn’t switch seats. “It’s whatever. Family, right?” 

“I guess,” he says. “My parents always loved holidays too. Especially when dad was around.” 

“I’m sorry about your dad,” you murmur. 

“Don’t be. Sorry if it seems like I keep bringing that up,” he sniffs. 

You look ahead to the sole structure as it looms closer and closer. A farmhouse that comes clearer through the drift of flakes, and a barn like a shadow near its rear corner. It’s like one of those classic festive paintings printed on an advent calendar or some 1950s domestic dream. 

He pulls up to the house and shifts in his seat. Concern needles in his cheek as he squints over the steering wheel. He wrenches the shifter into park and kills the engine. You sit futilely and let him take the lead. 

“Lights are off,” he mutters. 

You nod, unsure what to say. Is something wrong? 

He gets out and you watch the snow dust into his dark hair and across his broad shoulders. He is unfettered by the deep snow. You zip up your coat and turn to your door. You push it open and look out into the perilous carpet. 

Clark surprises you as he comes around. “Here,” he puts his arms out, “it’s deep.” 

You grab his hand and his other goes to your waist. He as good as lifts you and sets you down in the path he’s stomped through the piles. You thank him and awkwardly detach. He shuts the door and moves around you closely. 

He leads the way to the porch so you can walk through his footsteps. Your lashes catch the snow as you look up at the grey sky. You don’t think you’ll make it home that night. Shoot. 

Clark kicks off his boots as he digs in the pocket of his coat and pulls out some keys. He unlocks the door and gestures you in ahead of him. You try to clear off your treads before you enter. He reaches around the frame to flip on the light. 

He crowds you as he enters. You try not to step off the mat and make a mess of the floor. You slip free of your Adidas, not the best choice for the weather, and shuffle aside. He hangs his jackets and combs his fingers through his hair to clear the flakes out. The dark strands glisten with the moisture. 

“Give me your coat,” he reaches for you. 

“Oh, yeah,” you unzip your jacket and hand it over. It isn’t exactly climate appropriate either. You’ve been meaning to invest in winter gear. A lot of times your intentions are only ever that. “Thanks.” 

“Quiet...” he mulls as his eyes skim the ceiling and he hooks your jacket on the rack. 

“Yeah, a little.” 

“Ma’s probably laying down,” he utters with a hint of concern. “I’m gonna go check and see what’s going on.” 

“Oh, I hope she’s okay.” 

“No worries. She stays up all night reading,” he shakes his head. “Feel free to make yourself at home.” 

“Right, er, okay.” 

You back up as he passes you. He heads upstairs and you slowly pivot to take in the interior. The pale wood is marked with knots which give it an even more rustic atmosphere and the decor is simple but in a quaintly traditional way. The details etched into the slender drawer of a side table or the dainty trim of the area rug give a lived-in effect. 

You tiptoe into the front room and hug yourself as you feel a draught whisper in around the window. You find the light switch and flip it on to cast more light across the neatly arranged furniture. There's an old-fashioned iron firestove in the middle of the room, the flue built up to the ceiling.  

You can hear Clark moving around above. The rest of the house is silent. You look at the old grandfather clock standing against the wall. It’s just after eleven in the morning. 

You turn as the stairs creak. Clark appears in the doorway with a sober expression. “Mom’s just waking up. It might be a while. She... she’s having a tough day.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Is she sick?” 

“She is and she isn’t. Just getting older, you know? Ever since she broke her hip last year, she’s been a bit slower,” he explains. 

“Oh, gosh, Clark,” you say. “Is there anything I can do to help? You said she was planning on dinner but I can get all that started for her.” 

“Sure, she usually thaws the turkey in the sink overnight,” he says. “We should probably start there.” 

“Right,” you chew your lip. 

“It’s nice of you to offer but if it’s too much--” 

“No, no! It’s cool. I’ve just never stuffed a turkey on my own,” you say. “I was always just an observer.” 

Your mother never believed anything was done right unless she did it herself. Then she’d complain about having to do it. 

“I can help,” he offers. 

“Sure, sounds like a plan. I think she might appreciate the help, huh?” 

He smiles but doesn’t answer right away. For a moment, he only stares. He clears his throat and nods at last, “she would—will.” 

“Show me where it all is,” you show your palms, not wanting to presume too much. 

He beckons you after him as he leads you through the doorway perpendicular to the one you came through. He turns on another light. This place feels desolate with them off. 

“So uh...” he begins as he goes to the counter and peeks in the sink, “yep, turkey’s in here.” 

“Great, hopefully it’s dethawed,” you say. “Alright, do you mind if I poke around?” 

“It’s all yours. I’ll try to help but gotta be honest, as a kid, I was out in the field,” he stands back to watch you. 

“Right,” you come forward to look the turkey over. Good thing is it won’t need extra time due to being half-frozen. 

“Hum... do you know if your mother does stuffing from scratch or a box?” You turn back to him. 

“Scratch, probably,” he shrugs. 

“Cool, uh, I need bread,” you declare. It’s almost nice being in charge. A very new but refreshing feeling. 

✨

The smell of turkey wafts from the stove as you work at the other fixings. You follow the list on the fridge. The paper is a bit yellowed but you can read it nonetheless. At least Clark’s mother is a planner. Although a few of her ingredients are a bit... aged. Nothing you can’t use but the spices have a little extra dust on the caps. 

Clark appears again. He’s been pacing in and out, helping where he can, but he seems too restless to focus. You tap pause on your phone to stop the music. You don’t get any signal out here but you have a bunch downloaded. It helps ease the silence that thickens with the fall of snow. 

“So, how’s mom? She doing okay?” You ask. 

“Mom?” He hesitates, “yeah, she’s getting there. Sorry about this. I know the whole reason you did this was to make her happy. For me. I just didn’t expect--” He blows out a heavy breath and leans on the counter. “It’s hard when you get older and everyone you love starts to leave. Or change.” 

Your heart flickers. You try not to frown too deep, “I’m sorry, Clark.” You look back down at the bowl of soaking cranberries. You take your family for granted. The might be a little toxic but they’re there. 

“Not your fault. I just... I thought I had it figured out with Lois. Everyone was happy and my mom was ecstatic,” he clutches his hands together. You meet his eyes sheepishly. “I just wanted her to be that way again. And you’re so sweet and nice.” 

“Aw, Clark. Well, you know, I should thank you. At least I’m not alone on Christmas,” you try to pep yourself up. “Um, I gotta wait for these cranberries a little long. Could I use the bathroom?” 

“Right, er, it’s just down the hall,” he points towards the second doorway that interconnects with the same hallway that leads back to the stairs. 

“Thanks,” you wipe your hands on a dishcloth and leave him with a thin smile. 

As you flit out, your chest sinks. You think of everything you’ve said since you got there, how insensitive it must have seemed. And back in the car when you complained about your mom. Ugh, he must think you’re so ungrateful. 

You close yourself in the bathroom and tend to your business. You’d been holding it since he picked you up from your building. You wash your hands, pumping the soap bottle hard to dislodge a clog in the tube. You finally finish up but find the smell of mildew stuck to your hands from the towel. 

You come out of the bathroom and look up and down the hallway. You shift to see the framed picture a bit better. Those must be his parents, and little Clark. You can’t believe he was ever that small. 

There are other pictures across the table below. A cluster of frames; class photos, impromptu snaps of memories, and posed family shots. Beneath one, there’s a slip of paper. You try not to be intrusive but the fading font catches your eye. You lean in as you tilt the frame to see the full letter, the card bent and forgotten beneath. 

‘Our condolences. We were so sorry to hear of your mother’s passing. Please do let us anything we can do for you.’ The message is signed Mallory and Chuck. You blink in confusion. Maybe it’s an old card meant for his mother; for a grandparent. 

“She died last year,” Clark startles you so you whip up and nearly tip as you stand straight. “It’s my first Christmas without her,” he continues. “I’m sorry I lied but I didn’t want to be alone.” 

You shake your head. Confusion swells through your stomach and clouds your brain. The fog clears and your eyes wander up to the ceiling. 

“Your mom?” 

“I miss her,” his voice cracks. “She took care of me.” 

“Oh, well, yeah,” you quaver unevenly. You’re reeling. Why would he lie about that? And to get you here? You’re just coworkers. “That must be hard.” 

“Mhm,” he nods and pouts. As he comes closer, you tense, wavering with his steps. “You’re not mad at me?” 

Your lips part then close. The wind whistles outside and reminds you of how isolated this place is. Clark drove you here... 

“I’m just... wondering why you need to lie,” you eke out. 

“I know it’s wrong but... if I told the truth, you might say no.” 

You nod and as he reaches for you, you wince away. You hug yourself and push your shoulders up. You swallow, “Clark, what is the truth? Why am I here?” 

He tilts his head and his eyes drift to the side. The light fades in his pupils and his jaw clenches. His fingers twiddle by his leg. 

“To be with me,” he looks at you again and smiles. A smile shadowed sinisterly beneath the worn bulb above. “You’re alone too.” 

You stare at him. Terror floods your veins and paralyses you. You want to turn and run but you won’t get far. All you can do is bide your time and hope that you can find a chance and way to get out. But for now, with him so close, so much bigger, you have to pretend. That is exactly what he asked you to do, after all. 

[gaspshichat]

extremely long pearl appreciation post except this time i'm maintagging bc i want her to see this. she deserves to see this

she is the kindest soul ever. every bit message, every sub message, every gifted sub, and as many chat messages as possible are read. she genuinely doesn't want anyone to be left out

pearl had a rough start to stream today with a bunch of bots saying really weird things and someone revealing private information of hers which is weird. i have choice words for them but i'll keep myself pg for this post

it resulted in her having to turn on sub only mode which she said upset her. what did chat do?

they gifted probably around 200-500 subs to the community

pearl kept saying how bad she felt that she was practically forced into turning on sub only mode but she also said she didn't want her community gifting so many subs bc of an awful situation. they still did

i will always say that pearl is the nicest person ever. anytime smth bad happens to someone in chat, she's sympathetic and kind and gives them a message. anytime smth good happens to someone in chat, she's very excited and happy for them

it takes someone who is genuinely kind and selfless to do that. pearl does not have to read every bit message and sub message. but she does

her community reflects this kindness. i got broken up with two hours before valentine's day and told chat [bc streams for me are 6am-10am]. chat was so kind and gave me ideas on what to do with the flowers [which i did what they suggested!]

i've been in fandom communities for almost ten years now. pearl's is the kindest. there are so many people in chat i recognize [secret agent, sapphicwhimsy, kawaiitron, voxkeys, cardmoney, etc] that i look forward to seeing in chat. usually i dread seeing what happens in twitch chat's

not hers. hers are so full of kindness bc she is full of kindness and it just radiates and spreads to her community. yes it's fairly no nonsense, her deleting any weird messages, but that's to make sure it's a good place to be

i've been having nightmares and flashbacks recently due to reasons i wish to keep private. very few youtubers/streamers are able to help me sleep without those issues. pearl is one of them. her community is genuinely safe

i tell everyone interested in mcyt to watch pearl. i've been spreading pearl propaganda [/silly]. she deserves so much more than she has. pearl deserves the world

this is an extremely long post but i need to get my point across to her and anyone else, whether they're a pearl fan or not [yet]

pearl, we all love you and are proud to be part of the community. you are such a genuinely sweet person who deserves all the kindness in the world. i'm so sorry you had to deal with that bullshit [pardon my language]. it does genuinely suck but i hope the ~300 subs helped make you feel better hehe 🫶🫶

[saphiccarma]

Heyyy may I request Rio x reader who are exes and reunite when Rio shows up at the road? Angst that turns into fluff and obv happy ending? Thank you🥺

- Wherever you go I'll follow

Relationships - Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - Rio had abadoned you after she had to take Agatha's son. It left you with a simmering anger, but you think you would see her again until she, and in turn you, was summoned to the witches road.

Warnings: Some angst

A/N: All the requests I've gotten make me so happy, so I hope I did this one justice. Hope y'all enjoy.

The first thing you heard when you clawed your way out of the ground was surprised shrieks and yells, followed by an amused, slightly psychotic, but familiar laugh. Dread pooled in your stomach. You tore yourself out of the ground with a gasp and brushed the dirt away from your face. Nearly instantly, your eyes locked with a certain witches. Rio had an insane smile on her face, her lips spread wide as she fiddled with her knife.

"Well look who it is," she cooed, her voice taunting and insufferable.

You were not doing this. With a huff, you spun around and started walking away from them. You had seen at least five other people there, but you really could not deal with Rio. Faintly, you heard her gasp in fake shock, her footsteps trailing after you. It wasn't long before she was walking alongside you, her breath warm in her ear as she breathed down your neck.

You could hear her lick her lips, "I've missed you."

Shoving at her, you curled your lips into a snarl, "Fuck off." All that did was draw a laugh out of her, maniacal and insane.

"Only if you watch," she teased, taking absolute pleasure in the way your cheeks heated and you spluttered, "There's the flustered girl I remember, the one who brought me pretty flowers and greeted me with kisses and kept me warm at night."

You scoffed, crossing your arms and continuing to walk forward. Fire crackled inside of you at her words, the small spark igniting after so long. Heart beating frantically in your chest, you tried to gather your thoughts, even as you heard Rio trailing after you with a huff. In all honestly, you had no idea where this place was, with its dark surroundings, looming trees, and vibrant night sky. What a shitty time to be a familiar. The likely scenario was that Rio was summoned, with a formal incantation, and that meant you you were summoned as well. The curses of being a familiar tied to her.

"Sweetheart," she sang song, "We're on the Road. You can't leave."

That made you stop in your tracks, spinning around to face her with furrowed brows. The Road had always been fake, you both knew that.

"We both know that's fake."

The Road was made up by Agatha, a con she created to steal other witches’ powers. Rio let a sly smile cross her face, tongue poking into the side of her cheek. She took a step closer, so her hands were grazing against yours.

"Apparently not," she whispered, linking her fingers with yours. Every fiber of your being wanted to pull back, but for some reason you let Rio pull you closer, her breath ghosting on your lips. Your eyes fluttered as she licked her lips.

A throat was cleared and the two of you sprang apart, your hands burning as if they were on fire. A warm heat spread through your cheeks as you saw Agatha standing there, an unamused eyebrow raised as she stared at the two of you. The rest of what you assumed was her coven stood behind her, with perplexed faces. You cleared your own throat, taking several steps away from Rio.

"We're supposed to walk this thing?" Rio asked, gesturing at the Road. She took off with a skip in her step, knife twirling in her hand. You watched as Agatha scoffed, her coat swishing as she followed, quickly taking lead with her little...pet following.

You hung in the back, your thoughts swirling with so many emotions. Mainly anger. Angry at Rio for abandoning you. All those years ago, ditching you as if you meant nothing, as if you were just a piece of trash. You were born for her, a being created to serve and stand by her side for eternity, tethered to her until the end. But then she left one day, leaving you standing in your small cottage with a bouquet of flowers in your hand with a longing look in your eyes. Rio never came back after that.

Before that you knew she had something going on with Agatha, and you were fine with that, you had to be. You were just her familiar, it's not like the two of you were really anything. You were just born to serve her however she pleased. That didn't stop the sting when she created a child and then left you. Faintly, you heard the rest of the witches muttering about her in front of you. Rio was always the center of attraction.

The teenager pulled back, walking with you, his steps unsure and his eyes curious. You raised a brow and cleared your throat, urging him to speak.

“How come you were summoned? I thought we only summoned a green witch.” he asked, his fingers fiddling with a leather book he held in his hands.

“True,” you agreed, “Have you heard of familiars?” You watched as Rio skipped closer to Agatha, whose anger was so strong you could feel it from here.

He paused for a moment, biting his lip, before he shook his head, “No.”

“They’re people, or creatures, it really depends on the witch, that are tethered to a witch. In my case, I’m tethered to Rio – she’s basically my owner.” The term made a faint blush paint your cheeks.

“Oh.” He said, his hands still fiddling with his book, “So since she was summoned, you were too?

You sighed, “Unfortunately.”

^____________^

The coven sat around a fire, the flames crackling in your face and their warmth spreading around the small circle, sharing battle wounds and stories. It felt familiar, comforting even as you sat the closet, absorbing the warmth it gave off. Agatha had joined not long after the conversation had started, reporting that Teen would be fine after all. Rio twirled a flower in her hand as she side-eyed Agatha who sat next to her. A pang of jealousy hit you at Agatha's proximity to Rio.

"I have a scar." Rio said suddenly, her gaze focused on the fire.

"No, you don't," Agatha scoffed.

"Yes. I do." Rio insisted, her gaze flickering towards Agatha, "A long time ago, I loved someone," and even though her eyes meant yours, you knew she wasn't talking about you, "and I had to do something I did not want to do. Even though it was my job." She cast a pointed look at Agatha and swallowed thickly, her hands stilling from their fidgeting with the flower, "She is my scar."

You felt jealousy boil in your stomach as Agatha stood, Rio following her. Rio was meant to be yours; you were born for her. The rest of the coven sat awkwardly around the fire, their eyes following Agatha and Rio. The pain cut deep at the sight of them walking off together. Clenching your hands, you sucked in a sharp breath as you watched them disappear around a bend, Rio's hands reaching for Agatha.

I've missed you. Did she really miss you though? Based on her apparent attraction to Agatha, she didn't miss you at all, her heart lied elsewhere. It no longer lied with you and you wondered if it ever did. Rio could have just stuck with you because she was obligated to. You were nothing more than a pawn, a tool to make her job easier. Guiding angered souls, the ones who were so reluctant to go they managed to stay with their body, was your job. It took one more thing off of Rio's plate.

"Do you have any scars Y/N?" Alice asked, dabbing some of Jen's homemade perfume on her wrists.

You thought for a moment, trying to think of one, before a very specific one popped into your mind. It was probably your only one. You rolled the sleeve of your shirt up to your elbow, revealing your forearm to the group, the fire illuminating it. A fading R was carved into your skin. Despite what some might believe, Rio didn't carve it into you, even if she wished she did.

"I was born with it," you said quietly, "A symbol of who I belong to."

Your statement was meant with a stunned silence, the rest unsure of what to say to that. Rolling your sleeve back down, you awkwardly stood, mumbling some excuse about needing to stretch your legs. You walked off in the opposite direction that Agatha and Rio went. The forest provided some sort of comfort, with its dark atmosphere and large trees. You settled beneath one, your back pressing against the harsh bark, and you made a little flame come alive in your hand.

You weren't a fire witch, per say, but you could control fire. Some people say fire as danger, something to be avoided lest you get burned. And you agreed, fire was dangerous and shouldn't be played with. However, if treated right, it could provide warmth, a light in the darkness. Rio had learned how to treat fire like that, but she always played. Rio always played. Her words would be taunting and teasing, making the fire inside you flare up, but other days, she was soft. That's when the fire crackled with content inside.

Playing with the fire, you let it hop from hand to hand, the little ball burning with passion. It was a struggle to keep a small with all the emotions swirling inside of you, but the fear of burning down the forest was stronger. There was a certain comfort to playing with the fire, the warmth on your fingertips. Being away from Rio had dimmed your powers, draining them slowly, but now that you had returned, they were becoming stronger again. That was one thing you had always hated about this gift. It became a curse when you were tethered to someone you hated.

"Playing with fire again I see."

Your head snapped up at the teasing tone, your faint smile being replaced by a scowl. Rio was twirling her flower in one hand, the pink, a vibrant contrast against the dark forest, her other hand settled on the hilt of her knife that was strapped to her thigh. The fire in your hand flared up, the flames licking your face before you put it out with a flick of your wrist. Skipping over, Rio plopped down right next to you, her front facing you. Ever so slowly, Rio slid the flower into your hair, disregarding your flinch and sharp inhale. She smiled happily once it was settled into your hair.

"There's my pretty pet," she whispered, and you searched for the usual teasing tilt in her voice, but there was none. Just pure adoration, which had to be a trick because Rio never adored you. She only used you.

You flinched at the nickname, "I'm not your pet," you spat.

"The mark on your arm says otherwise," The Green Witch rolled her eyes, "You've always been my pet."

The words cut deep inside you, reminding you that you had always belonged to her. Even when she left you. You were meant to be hers, whether you liked it or not - you were tethered to Death for eternity. If you somehow died, Rio would still be able to keep you.

"You left me," you snarled, "I'm not your pet."

Rio blinked harshly, pulling back a little. It was only then that you noticed how close she had gotten.

"I never wanted to leave my love," she said softly, in a tone that was only ever reserved for you, "But duty called and I had no choice."

You scoffed, "What duty? You mean fucking Agatha?"

Rio laughed at your bold statement, throwing her head back with a maniacal cackle. It did nothing to soothe your worries and the growing fire inside you. But it did give you a view of her neck, the one you would bury yourself in after long days, the one you would kiss and bite and love.

"I did fuck her," Rio agreed, "But that's the past. You've always been my favorite, darling. I never wanted to leave you, never."

You flinched away when her hand came close, wrapping around the back of your neck. She pulled you close, her touch rough and soft. Her lips were inches away from yours and you smell her earthly smell.

"I hate you."

Rio smiled, "I know."

She crashed her lips onto yours, she tasted like flowers and the earth. A part of you wanted to pull away, but the feeling of her lips on yours, her hand pulling at your hair, and her tongue entering your mouth, it made the fire in your stomach flare with pleasure. You whimpered softly as her tongue explored your mouth for the first time in centuries.

You pulled away from her, panting ever so slightly, "You can't kiss your way out of this."

"Can't I?" Rio smirked, moving to crash her lips back onto yours.

"No," you pushed her away, "I'm still mad at you."

Rio laughed, throwing her head back before leaning in close, her breath ghosting against your earlobe as she whispered, "Are you?"

When she first kissed you, you thought that was what you had wanted, even if you wanted to pull away, but you know that's not it. You want to be close to her, but not in a sexual way. You wanted to hold her like you used to - for it to be like it used to.

"I want to hold you," you whispered, "I've missed you."

Death's lips pursed, her eyes flickering away before she softly muttered, "Alright."

The two of you shuffled to lay beneath the tree, your arms spooning Rio as she curled into you, her back pressed against your front. You made your entire body warm to contrast the cold of her skin and the air. Rio let out a content hum, burrowing even further into you. You held her tight and pressed a soft kiss on her temple.

"I missed you," you whispered.

"I missed you too," Rio twisted her head and planted a soft kiss on your lips, her touch gentle and sweet.

You let sleep take you away with Deaht wrapped tight in your arms.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine King catching feelings for you

Kaido: ah, there he is, King this is the new navigator for the main ship

King: [eyes you in disinterest] I see

You: hello, I look forward to working with you.

King: I'm sure you do.

You: [ignores his rude comment]

Kaido: would you show them around the ship for me?

King: I suppose

You: [opens the door and gestures to it] Lead the way handsome.

King: [looks at you in surprise]

During a dinner

King: [sees you're not touching your sashimi plate]

You: [notices him looking] Do you like sashimi?

King: ... Yes

You: I'm a tad full at the moment to eat mine, could I get your help with it?

King: [wastes no time taking the platter from you] I take it you don't like sashimi?

You: it's not that, I'm just not in the mood for it.

King: [can't tell if you're lying] Good, because I don't know if I can work with someone who doesn't like sashimi.

You: but it would mean more for you.

King: [pauses because he didn't think of it that way before] ... So you're going to give me all your sashimi from now on?

You: [smiles at him] Maybe, if you've been a good boy.

King: [feels unfamiliar emotions stir within him]

After that dinner

You: [goes to King's rooms] King?... King, Kaido wanted me to deliver this course log to you to review for tomorrow... Huh, I'll just leave it on his desk with a note.

King: [exits the shower with just a towel and sees you kneeling on his desk chair and scribbling something down]

You: [turns around to see him trying to duck into another room] King? Is that you?

King: [freezes, knowing he's been seen]

You: wow, I've never seen you without your mask, [realizes this is a breach of his privacy, so you should your eyes] Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to look, I promise I won't say anything to anyone.

King: [grabs his sword and stands over you]

You: [looks up when you hear the blade slide out of the sheath]

King: [feels dread and guilt fill his chest when he sees the look of terror in your eyes]

You: why?

King: I can't let you leave now that you know what I am, the government can't know that I'm still alive. I won't ever go back to being someone else's lab rat.

You: I understand. [Lowers your head in acceptance]

King: [can't bring himself to kill you, so he throws it down] damn it all, get out of my chair.

You: [scrabbles out, and silently watches him sit down and make a call using his den den mushi]

King: Kaido, the new navigator knows

Kaido: ehh? I just got them, do you know how hard it is to find a decent navigator and you're telling me you already killed the brand-new one!

King: I haven't killed them.

Kaido: They escaped you, are they at least wounded?

King: [gets comfortable in his chair] No, they're standing right before me.

You: [had a perfect view of his thighs and the v of his hips peaking out of the towel, and now you can see up his towel, so you look away]

Kaido: what's the hold-up?

King: [sees you looking away, so he leans forward, takes your jaw in his hand, and makes you look at him] We can't afford to lose our only navigator while out at sea. I want to keep them by my side in the meantime.

Kaido: [can tell he's not hearing the full truth] ... As long as it doesn't interfere with their duties, you can do whatever you want with them.

King: thank you

Kaido: now good night [hangs up]

King: [puts down the receiver, and runs his thumb over your lips] ... If you try to leave my sight, I will kill you without hesitation. You will stay by my side, and do everything I say. I do not tolerate disobedience, do you understand me? [Gently shakes you to get his point across]

You: [feels tears well up in your eyes]

King: [feels guilty] I'll have servants bring your things, you'll sleep here, with me, from now on... I'm not doing this to punish you, I'm doing this for my own safety, and because I don't want to kill you.

You: [sniffles] I understand

King: [can hear your distress in your voice and it makes him feel sick] Through that door is the bathroom, go bathe while I make a few calls.

You: [slinks into the other room]

King: [calls the kitchens to deliver your favorite desserts, and calls the servant quarters to have them bring your stuff to his quarters]

After your shower

You: [exits the bathroom wearing a clean kimono]

King: [lounging on the couch, in front of a rather impressive spread of sweets] Your things have been moved into your new room.

You: I'm getting a room all to myself?

King: no, you'll be sleeping with me, I need to know where you are at all times

You: we'll be sharing a bed?!

King: yes, now please help yourself to these sweets, I did order them for you.

You: you did, why? [Goes directly for your favorite dessert]

King: You were distressed, and this was the only way I could think of to help you feel better... Your distress is understandable, I know this isn't ideal for you, being practically chained to my side... And while I can't let you go, I just wanted you to know that... I don't want you to worry or be afraid of me, because I'm not going to hurt you. I can't risk going back to what I was before Kaido, I won't go back to it.

You: ... You mentioned the government earlier, I take it you were held captive by them.

King: yes, it's why I wear the mask.

You: [can see him practically squirming in his seat] Really? And here I was thinking you wore it because it was a fetish.

King: well it is, but it's not the sole reason I wear it.

You: Sasaki owes me 800 Berry then.

King: you people were betting on me?

You: to be fair we bet on everything, there's not a lot to do on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

King: [sighs dramatically] That's true, but back to the topic at hand, I usually kill people for finding out what I am.

You: but not me, what makes me so special?

King: I don't know.

You: [ruminates for a moment] How did seeing me distressed make you feel?

King: uncomfortable, guilty, I dunno? I just didn't like it.

You: hmm I see, so you don't want to kill me, seeing me upset disturbs you, and you have anxiety if I am out of your sight.

King: believe whatever you want about my reasoning, it changes nothing.

You: ... One final question

King: [rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms] Fine, final question.

You: when you were on the call with Kaido, why did you make me look at you?

King: I didn't like that you were looking away.

You: I see.

King: ... Why did you look away?

You: I could see up your towel.

King: How much did you see?

You: some of your balls, and most of your shaft.

King: [feels arousal and embarrassment well up in him] Are you finished with your food?

You: I believe so.

King: come, I'll show you the bedroom.

You: [follows him and takes it in] Why are there no lights?

King: because it's time for bed [gets settled in bed when he notices you haven't moved] are you coming or are you sleeping on the floor?

You: that bed doesn't look like it'll fit both of us?

King: [rolls his eyes, grabs your arm, and pulls you into the bed up on his chest.] It's just fine, relax and go to sleep, I won't do anything.

You: [rests your weight on him and struggles to get comfortable]

King: [agitated because you're so close to him and he's experiencing new emotions he didn't know he had] Would you stop fidgetingñ

You: I'm trying to get comfortable and avoid kicking you in your dick!

King: [realizes how aroused he is by having you so close] tsk, do it quickly.

The next morning

King:[wakes up empty-handed, panics, and looks around until he sees you]

You: [asleep on his wing, face nuzzled into his down feathers, and has handfuls of his flight feathers.]

King: [mental cogs slide into place and he realizes he's in love with you] Oh fuck [sits up]

You:[awakens with a shriek when the surface below is yanked out from under you]

King: [sits up on the side of the bed with his hands covering his face]

You: [pushes your upper half up onto your palms as you twist to look over at him] What's going on?

King: [ looks over to see you half asleep, messy-haired, and your kimono had loosened in your sleep and was now only closed over your lap and under the obi belt, giving him an eyeful of your shoulders, the center of your chest, and from mid-thigh down]

You: it's like five in the morning, what's going on? [Reaches out and pulls on his feathers]

King: nothing, go back to sleep.

You: [doesn't need to be told twice, and plops back down and wiggles back into a comfortable position]

Bout a week later

King: [has so much pent-up tension he's basically a walking time bomb that everyone avoids]

Kaido: what have you been doing to him to make him so cranky?

You: I have absolutely no clue.

Kaido: well you better do something about it before he snaps and burns down my ship.

You: [ goes to King's room to find him tensed up and hunched over his desk] Kaido wants me to do something.

King: what now?

You: he wants me to fix whatever I've been doing to make you so cranky.

King: [scoffs] You haven't done anything.

You: [climbs into his lap, straddles his thighs, and cups his cheeks] And that might be what I'm doing wrong.

King: [relaxes at the softness in your voice, but pulls your hands away from his mask] This is my problem to deal with.

You: can I please help, I'll do anything.

King: anything?

You: [nods] anything

King: [wraps his hands around your hips, and pushes you down so you're seated on his lap]

You: [feels the heat rolling off the erection trapped in his pants] Oh my

King: [guides your body to gently rock against him] You said you'd do anything, and it's your fault it's like this. Don't you think you should take responsibility?

You: [huffs, but puts your back into grinding down on him] It's been days since I moved in, why didn't you tell me sooner?

King: I was already keeping you captive, [Grunts and starts to pant as he tilts his hips up to get more friction] It felt like I would've been pressuring you into something non-consensual.

You: I see [slows your movements to a halt]

King: [huffs and bucks his hips in frustration, pulling on your hips to get you to move again] Don't fucking stop, please.

You: [goes slow] Tell me, is this just lust?

King: [desperate] It can be anything you want it to be, please I just want you.

You: is this all you want? My body?

King: I'll take whatever you give me, but I'll always want more. I'm so fucking greedy for you. I want it all, I want the sashimi you don't like. I want fun evenings out, and restless nights in with you, only to be followed by quiet passionate mornings with you. I want you to look at only me, smile at only me, to fuck only me. I'll take whatever you give, just please give me this, [Presses his thumbs into the softness on your belly] even if it's only this once.

You: you're in love with me?

King: [slumps pathetically into his chair in defeat, and looks at the ceiling] Fuck ... Yes, I am. I am in love with you, and spending every night with you pressed against me has made me insatiable.

You: [giggles]

King: [flips you off]

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[imaginespazzi]

Part 8: The Toxic In Intoxication

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

Your mouth is poison (your mouth is wine)

(In which an all over the place writer, writes something that's a little bit all over the place)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy,

Words: 9.0K

TW: Swearing, a little bit of violence, mentions of blood, men being men

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Unfortunately, as I've been warning y'all for a while, the deadline did finally slip through my fingers. However I'm hoping y'all will forgive me for it because I am only one day late and this chapter is quite long. I do wanna warn y'all in advance that there won't be a chapter next week because I am going on vacation and my laptop is staying very, very far away from me. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm not sure how I feel about the whole thing but I'm hoping y'all will enjoy it anyways. I did actually edit this time but who knows how successful that was, so please let me know about typos/mistakes. As always, feel free to tell me about what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your weeks my loves <3

August 2025

Azzi Fudd is a spectacular liar. She excels at keeping up a façade of yes everything is perfectly fine in front of her friends and family. She’s quite good at tricking people she can barely stand into thinking oh yes i’m totally enjoying this conversation. But the person Azzi lies the most to, is without a doubt herself. As she steps out of the car into the hot Indiana air, bustling with noises from the growing crowd inside, Azzi internally repeats a lie to herself again: she did not show up to all-star weekend for a glimpse of her ex girlfriend. She’s here, as per Colleen’s managerial advice, to build connections, to further her career and to expand on opportunities in the basketball world. The fact that Paige Bueckers, who Azzi hasn’t seen in three months -the longest period of time they’d spent apart since she’d started at UConn- is definitely also going to be attending tonight’s party, is merely a happenstance. 

Taking a deep breath, Azzi puts one kitten heeled foot in front of the other, trying to ignore her heightened nerves. This isn’t her preferred scene by any means. She’d much rather be back in her hotel room, curled on her couch with a book and a pint of ice cream. It’s not that Azzi doesn’t like parties; she has her fair share of fun at Ted’s, but it’s the unfamiliarity of the environment and the lack of that once ever present comforting hand that used to tap out i’m here for you against the back of her own at big events like these, that has her yearning to crawl back into the car and hide away. 

“Azzi?” a familiar voice calls from behind her and Azzi lets out a sigh of relief as she sees Aaliyah walking towards her with a large welcoming grin, “Azeray!”

“Li-Li. Thank god you’re here,” Azzi reaches up to hug her former teammate, mentally thanking whatever god was looking out for her. She’d dreaded walking in by herself and now she wouldn’t have to. Really she probably should probably send Coach a ‘thank you’ text for having so many alumni in the league that there was bound to be a Husky she could attach herself to for the night. 

“I’m glad to see you too Az,” Aaliyah says, pulling away and looking at Azzi with a semi-concerned look, “but you seem a little extra relieved to see me? You good dude?”

“Just- just a little nervous,” Azzi admits, shuffling her feet uneasily. 

Realization dawns on Aaliyah’s face, “cause of Paige?”

“No you know I don’t like big unfamiliar places,” Azzi sighs when Aaliayh gives her a pointed look, “but I guess maybe- maybe a little cause of Paige.”

The Mystics forward shakes her head before linking her arms through Azzi’s, “I swear, I leave y’all for one year and everything implodes-," she bites her tongue, "shit was that insensitive?”

“No,” Azzi grimaces, “that’s pretty much exactly what happened.”

Something hard coils in her stomach at Aaliyah’s words. The truth is they’d been fine. Better than fine even. And then suddenly Azzi was lighting a box of matches she hadn’t even known she was holding and her whole world was on fire; an implosion of everything Azzi had once thought inflammable. She’d burned her hands trying to rescue them and all she has to show for it are invisible red hot pustules that refuse to heal. But perhaps, she thinks, that’s what a pyromaniac like her had deserved. 

Azzi cowers under the flashing lights of the cameras, clinging tighter to Aaliyah’s arm as the two of them make their way onto the orange carpet, the cameramen immediately swinging their devices to capture the college basketball player more than likely to be the number one pick in next year’s WNBA draft. She feels herself tense under their piercing gaze, anchored only by Aaliyah's strong and steady presence next to her. And as they pose for the cameras, she’s thankful for her former teammate’s company but she can’t shake the feeling that it should have been someone else. 

“And look who we have here,” Lexie Brown says excitedly as the two of them approach the interviewer, “y’all Huskies clean up nice.”

“We try, we try,” Aaliyah answers charismatically, doing a little hair flip to match her tone. 

“Aaliyah, it's your first all-star nod, how are you feeling?” 

“I feel great, you know it’s always good to see yourself being acknowledged and being an all-star has always been a goal of mine. So, I hope it’s the first of many and I’m just hoping my team gets the W tomorrow,” Aaliyah answers diplomatically.

Lexie turns to Azzi, “I bet you’re really proud of her. I mean you’ve got a couple of teammates who are first-time all stars between Aaliyah and Paige. You’ve gotta be feeling pretty proud of them”

“Y-yeah I mean,” Azzi clears her throat, trying not to flinch at the mention of Paige’s name, “It’s been- it’s been really exciting to watch them and I’m extremely proud-”

She’s cut off by the sound of excited chatter filling up the air and Azzi doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s just entered the premises. Not when she has a whole separate sensory system that flares up just for her. Azzi’s skin prickles as she registers the sound of familiar peals of laughter echoing from the orange carpet. She digs her nails into the palm of her hand, forcing herself not to turn around. 

“Speak of the devil,” Lexie says goodnaturedly, getting her hand ready to beckon the blonde over and Azzi feels panic suffocate her lungs, not quite ready to face Paige yet. 

“Oh I don’t think-” Aaliyah tries to cut in, glancing worriedly at her friend but it’s too late. 

“Paige,” Lexie calls out, beaming over Azzi’s head at the Dallas Wings’ newest star point guard. 

The world seems to move in slow motion as Azzi feels Paige getting closer and closer to her. She smells the faint scent of fresh mint weaved with a hint of citrus first. Then she hears the sound of Paige’s breathing, perfectly even to anybody else but Azzi can hear the staggered harshness hidden beneath it. And as the blonde passes over her to settle on Lexi’s other side, she feels Paige’s arm brush against her own and it hurts to breathe. The contact lasts for a second but Azzi swears it’ll last forever, tattooing itself on her bicep as a wretched reminder of a touch she’s no longer allowed to crave. 

It’s funny, there’s a hurricane swirling between them and Paige can barely look at Azzi, keeping her eyes firmly on Lexie and Aaliyah as she greets the trio. And yet, there’s a sense of calm -of peace- that seems to wash over Azzi just by having Paige near her again. The older woman seems to possess some sort of magical power that weaves itself into Azzi’s nervous system, soothing away her frazzled nerves with an unspoken promise of and if you give me the chance i’ll make it all okay. 

Despite the hectic transition from a full college season to a frantic W season, Paige looks ethereal as always. Her two piece cropped vest top and straight fitted pants match the color of her eyes and a silver chain dangles across her chest. Two strands of blonde hair hide her signature diamond studs, the rest of it pulled back into a slightly messy bun. Azzi gulps at the way the vest top parts right above her midriff, Paige’s toned abs playing peek-a-boo behind it. She lets her eyes roam over Paige’s exposed arms, trying to ignore memories of how they used to go taut under her touch, down to the blonde’s bare fingers and she feels her heart constrict. No rings. It feels wrong. But then again, nothing has felt right for three months. 

“Azzi,” Aaliyah hisses and Azzi snaps out of her thoughts, realizing she’d been asked a question. 

“Sorry,” she laughs nervously, moving a strand of her hair out of her face; Paige’s eyes intently following the movement, “what was the question.”

Lexie smiles, “I was just asking about your thoughts on Paige’s amazing rookie year so far?”

“Oh um-” Azzi hesitates, shivers inching up her spine as she feels Paige drinking in the sight of the her body like she's a woman parched, “I’m just-” their eyes lock with each other’s and everything else seems to vanish until it feels like it’s just the two of them floating in between remnants of what they used to be, “I’m just really proud of her. I always knew she’d be amazing. She’s just doing what she always does. Being the best player she can be. So yeah I’m just- I’m just really proud of her.”

And Azzi doesn’t know how they got to this point where Paige seems almost shocked that Azzi could be proud of her, to this point where there’s droplets threatening to spill over both of their water lines and they no longer have the right to wipe each other’s tears away. 

“Aww,” Lexie coos, oblivious to the tension, “well on that sweet note, off y’all go and we’ll see y’all later.”

The walk into the party is kept alive with Aaliyah’s attempt at keeping a conversation going. While Paige tries to at least entertain some of, Azzi finds herself completely zoning out until they finally make their way inside into the cacophony of music and laughter. 

“Y’all wanna get-” Aaliyah begins.

“I see Jewell and Téa,” Paige cuts her off immediately, her legs already moving in a rush, “I’ll see y’all later.”

She gives Aaliyah a tentative grin but barely looks at Azzi as she practically trips over her pant-sleeves trying to get away. It feels like something’s biting against her skin, sharp teeth indenting you did this to yourself as Azzi watches Paige walk away. She watches as the tension slowly leaves the blonde’s muscles as she’s pulled into a hug by Jewell and then by Téa. The fake smile that she’d politely kept on her face the last couple of minutes for the sake of the cameras and reporters is replaced by something far more genuine. Azzi watches as Paige is absorbed into the warmth of the growing crowd, embraced by a league that adores her, and she feels the ice cold pinch of she belongs somewhere without you now start to freeze her own heart. 

***

Azzi’s doing fine. She’s gotten through the night with Aaliyah by her side, making small talk with a bunch of different players and she’s managed to keep a friendly smile the whole time. She’d even danced for a little bit, letting loose with some of the other college basketball players that had made the trip to Indianapolis. Sure, she’d occasionally been distracted by her eyes flickering over to the bar and finding a new pretty influencer batting their fake eyelashes at Paige but really she’s doing fine. Her head’s a little dizzy and maybe the third shot of tequila, influenced by a one leggy brunette that had gotten a little too handsy, wasn’t her brightest decision of the night but really, Azzi’s doing fine. 

Until she’s not. 

And it’s Paige's fault. She had to know that it would be Azzi’s last straw. She had to know that Azzi could live with watching a thousand girls flirt with Paige as long as the blonde in question stood rigidly by the bar doing nothing but smiling politely at them. She had to know that Azzi, after having spent most of their college life watching girls fawn over her girlfriend, could deal with the flirty hands that lingered just a little too long on Paige’s bicep. But it’s when Paige leans into this one girl -whose dark curls and tanned caramel skin are just a little too reminiscent of her own- when Paige’s lips graze just a little to close this one girl’s ear, that Azzi realizes she’s decidedly not fine. 

“I need some air,” she manages to bite out, ignoring Aaliyah’s concerned look as she marches out the back door, heading towards the deck. 

Azzi buries her face in her hands as she leans back against the brick wall. She knows she’s being unfair; knows she has absolutely no right to feel this way but something burns within her anyways and the light breeze does nothing to cool it down. 

“I’m not cheating on you,” a harsh voice interrupts her pity party and Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “We’re not together and I can flirt or kiss or fuck-” she flinches, “anyone if I want to.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Paige’s voice is laced with accusation, “because the way you just stormed out says otherwise.”

Azzi continues to keep her head in her palms, refusing to look at the blonde, “it’s hot and stuffy in there. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying,” Paige spits out. 

“Well what do you want me to say instead?” Azzi finally looks up, her even cadence in stark contrast to Paige’s fiery tone, “I know we’re not together-”

“Because that’s what you wanted-”

“I know,” Azzi yells, and then quieter, “I know. I know I- I know I did this. But that- that doesn’t make it any easier to see you with someone else,” she swallows, “doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

Paige scoffs, rubbing her face as she begins to pace, “you miss me? I was at Mohegan when y’all had summer camp. The whole team showed up to the game except for you and you want me to believe that you miss me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me there,” Azzi confesses in a whisper, “you were so mad at me after-after everything- and I just- I didn’t want to ruin coming back to Connecticut for you.”

“For me,” Paige lets out a laugh devoid of any emotion, “god Azzi there you go again with this fake ‘selfless’ bullshit.”

A thousand and one retorts die on the tip of Azzi’s tongue as she shakes her head and pushes herself off the wall. She can smell the alcohol on Paige, can tell the blonde is itching for an argument but all she feels is pure exhaustion. 

 “I don’t wanna fight Paige. I’m tired and I just-” she bites her lip, fighting the urge to caress Paige’s cheek, “believe it or don’t but- I really do miss you.”

Sparks of electricity dance their way through Azzi’s veins when Paige curls a hand around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks from going inside. And suddenly she doesn’t feel so cold anymore. 

“Dance with me,” Paige whispers. 

“What?” 

Paige shrugs, tugging on Azzi’s hand to pull her closer, “you said you don’t wanna fight and I- I don’t want you to go,” the confession hangs between them as Paige’s hands fall to Azzi’s waist, “so- let’s just- let’s pretend.”

“What are we pretending?” Azzi asks quietly and despite the warnings ringing in her head, she wraps her arms around Paige’s neck. It feels like coming home. 

“We’re pretending that we’re okay,” Paige says softly, holding Azzi’s hips as she begins to sway them gently, “we’re pretending that three months ago you said yes.”

“Paige-”

“Close your eyes Azzi,” the blond waves her hand gently across Azzi’s face, willing both of their eyelids to flutter shut, “we’re pretending that we’re not here- we’re in Minnesota or DC or I don’t know just- anywhere. And our families are here, laughing and talking and some sappy romantic song is playing. It's the best day of our lives and we’re both- we're both dressed in white-”

“Paige,” Azzi lets out a sob, as she begins to understand the picture Paige is painting for them; a picture drawn on a canvas that Azzi had torn up before any color could touch it

“Sshhhh just- let me have this okay,” Paige’s voice trembles as she leans her forehead against Azzi’s, “if I can’t have it for real, please just let me pretend.”

If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Azzi would fight Paige’s tightening grip. If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Paige would let go. Instead Azzi lets Paige play pretend, lets them keep their bodies pressed against each other, moving from side to side in rhythm with the wind. 

It isn’t until she hears footsteps approaching them that Azzi hurriedly moves away first and she can see the betrayal of if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world written all over Paige’s face. They’re both quick to swap their tears for smiles that don’t reach their eyes as they turn to face the intruders. And Azzi wonders if Paige wishes she’d drank a little bit more too. Because maybe if they were both just a little more drunk, then tomorrow they wouldn’t have to remember just how right it had felt to play pretend tonight. 

April 2033 

“You look so pretty Mama,” Stephie gushes from where she’s perched on the bed as she watches Azzi put the finishing touches to her makeup

“Thanks baby,” Azzi smiles, blowing a kiss in the mirror. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie flips the running facetime call, skipping over to her mother with the phone in her hand, “doesn’t Mama look beautiful?”

Sixteen years later, and maybe it’s because of all the time they’d missed in between, but Azzi can’t help the bout of shyness that flushes across her features when Stephie places the phone, Paige’s face illuminated all over it, against the mirror so the blonde can get a proper look at Azzi’s outfit.

“You look-” Paige clears her throat, eyes dilated as they rake over Azzi’s whole body, “you look phenomenal.”

“Big word Bueckers,” Azzi teases, trying to disguise her blush, “did you just learn it?”

Paige rolls her eyes, “can’t even give you a compliment without an insult Fudd.”

“You guys argue too much,” Stephie says exasperatedly, shaking her head at the two adults who laugh. The younger girl sometimes seems far wise beyond her age. 

“We’re not arguing Stephie, we’re just-” Azzi struggles to think of a word. 

“Foreplaying,” Paige mutters under her breath and Azzi immediately glares at her. 

“Paige!”

Stephie scrunches up her nose at the screen, “what does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Azzi says shrilly, “Miss Buecks is just making up words.”

“Why would Miss Buecks do that?” Stephie asks, looking back and forth between her mother and the screen. 

“Why does Miss Buecks do anything,” Azzi babbles, as she begins to usher Stephie out of her room, “go grab your things Stephie-bean. Mama’s almost ready to drop you off at Nana and Pop’s house.”

Stephie pouts, “I wanna go to the party with you and Miss Buecks. It’s no fair you both get to go and I don’t,” she picks up the phone, looking at Paige with wide guilt-tripping eyes, “don’t you love me Miss Buecks?”

Azzi has to hand it to her daughter. She’s a smart one to choose Paige as the victim of her emotional blackmail, knowing her wiles had long stopped working on her mother. 

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Stephie,” Paige says, “but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow I swear.”

Stephie smiles and Azzi shakes her head at how quickly the five-year old’s plan had worked, “you’ll take me to the park and then we’ll get fries and then get ice cream?”

“That’s a lot of junk food Steph-”

“Ssshh Mama,” Stephie chides, “this is between me and Miss Buecks.”

“The park, then fries, then ice cream it is,” Paige concedes and Azzi rolls her eyes. 

Stephie grins brightly, puckering her lips to kiss Paige through the phone and eliciting a laugh from the older woman when she cheers, “you’re the best-est-est Miss Buecks. See you in a little bit. Don’t hang up without saying goodnight.”

“I promise I won’t,” Paige calls out after the little girl as Stepehie hands the phone back to Azzi and starts skipping towards her room. 

Azzi gives the blonde a look, “we have got to have a conversation about you learning to say no to her.”

Paige shrugs unhelpfully, “I don’t want to learn how to say no to her.”

“You’re a lost cause,” Azzi remarks, hands on hips, “and foreplay? Seriously? Us bickering is not foreplay.”

“Well it could be if you’d just let me fuck you after,” Paige grumbles and Azzi’s mouth falls open at the bluntness of it. 

“You say the most romantic things to me Paige Bueckers.”

They’re both quiet for a second as Azzi moves around her room, collecting her wallet and keys and to put into her purse. 

“You know there’s still time for me to come pick you up,” Paige says finally.

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, not wanting a rerun of the same argument they’ve been having for the last week. She knows it’s a touchy subject for Paige; that it veers a little too close to insecurities that stem from their past but she’s not quite ready to take this step yet. There isn’t quite any rhyme or reason to her logic except well, she’s haunted by memories of the last time they’d let the personal mix with the professional. Her phone still holds invitations to countless team reunions that she’d actively avoided and a group chat that she’s long muted. Azzi hasn’t stepped foot in the state of Connecticut since she’d entered the draft; she refuses to lose California too. 

“Teammates can carpool,” Paige explains vehemently, “it’s easily explainable.’

“I know-”

“Is this about Clémence?” bitterness tinges the edge of Paige’s voice as she chews her bottom lip. And there it is, the other subject they’d been tip-toeing around since it had been brought up at breakfast a week ago. Paige and Azzi are both excellent at avoiding talking about the harder topics but they’ve never quite managed to let anything go forever. 

“Why would this be about Clémence?” 

Paige narrows her eyes, sitting up from where she’d previously been lounging against her pillow, “maybe you don’t want her to see us together? Maybe you’re trying to spare her feelings I don’t know.”

“Paige-”

“You know what it’s fine,” Paige huffs, “I’ll see you at the bar Azzi.”

She hangs up before Azzi can say anything and the brunette lets out a litany of curses under her breath, annoyed with Paige’s ability to go from A to Z by skipping everything in between. There’s a part of her that knows Paige deserves an explanation about Clémence, a chance to have her lingering doubts confirmed or denied, but amidst the egoistic thoughts of well she married someone else and the self preservationist urge to prevent a potential fight, she hadn’t been brave enough to approach the topic just quite yet. Azzi’s about to step out of the room, when her phone pings with a facetime call from Paige again. 

“Are you calling to apologize for hanging up?” Azzi asks with a frown. 

“No,” Paige replies stubbornly, “I called because I hung up without saying goodnight to Stephie and just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m gonna miss saying goodnight to her.”

Something wonderful and warm blooms in Azzi’s chest as she silently walks over to Stephie’s room. This is a new chapter in Paige’s storybook that she’s slowly beginning to read; one scribbled with the blonde’s devotion to Azzi’s baby girl. Azzi still has every other chapter memorized; had thought nothing could be more beautiful than the words within the one that had been dedicated to her. But she’d been wrong. Because every day that she watches Paige and Stephie fall more and more in love with each other, she finds herself falling in love with how much they love each other. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, practically snatching the phone from her mother’s hand as she goofily grins at the screen, “you didn’t hang up.”

“I promised I wouldn’t,” Paige says, the hardness that had existed in her voice while talking to Azzi, dissolving into adulation, “you be good for Nana and Pops okay?”

“I’m always good,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “can you come over really, really, early tomorrow?”

Paige laughs, “I’ll be there as soon as I wake up.”

“Good,” Stephie claps contentedly as she grabs Azzi’s hand to start walking towards the car, “good night Miss Buecks.”

“Good night Stephie-bean,” Paige echoes, blowing a kiss through the screen. 

“Paige,” Azzi says urgently, trying to stop the older woman from hanging up, “can you just hold on a second while I buckle Stephie in.”

“Az-”

“Please.”

“Fine,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s gaze as she sulks. 

Azzi lifts Stephie onto the car seat, fastening her seatbelt and pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, before she closes the car door and uses it as a stabilizing structure to lean on as she pulls her phone back in front of her. 

“Hey,” she whispers. 

“Hi,” Paige says back begrudgingly, “you wanted to say something?”

“I-” Azzi swallows, “don’t go the bar-”

“Oh fantastic,” Paige cuts her off, her voice furious as she glares daggers at Azzi through the phone, “not only do you not want to go to the bar together, you don’t want me to go at all. Fine. Okay. Whatever. I won’t go. You have the time of your life with fucking Clementine or whatever-”

“Yet,” Azzi says loudly, trying to speak over Paige’s angry rant, “don’t go to the bar yet.”

“What?” 

Azzi licks her lips, “don’t go yet. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents-”

“What does that have to-”

“Will you just let me fucking finish?” Azzi almost bangs her fist on the car in frustration and she’s glad to see that it makes Paige look just a little bit sheepish, “as I was saying. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents and uh- your house- it’s um- it’s on the way to the bar so I thought,” she shrugs with fake nonchalance, the edge of her mouth turning upwards, “I thought maybe- maybe I could pick you up on the way.”

Paige stares blankly at the screen, eyes blinking as Azzi’s words slowly register, “you- you wanna go to the bar together?”

“I didn’t say that,” Azzi teases, eyes twinkling as she basks in the thrill of eliciting that Azzi smile from Paige’s lips, “teammates carpool right?”

“Teammates definitely carpool.”

April 2029 

“You invited Clémence to our movie night?” Jana asks in a whisper, as she walks into the kitchen where Azzi’s making popcorn. Her Saturday nights have gotten rather boring since she’s had Stephie, consisting of alternating between movie nights with Jana and dinner with her parents. It wasn’t the most thrilling of times but she looked forward to them all week, excited to not have to spend a night in solitude.

“She asked what I was doing tonight and I told her we were having a movie night and then she asked if she could join and well I couldn’t just say no,” Azzi explains, sticking the bag into the microwave. 

Jana cocks an eyebrow, “do you want me to leave?”

“Why would I want you to leave?” Azzi asks, crinkling her nose as she juts out an ear just in case the baby monitor goes off. 

“C’mon Az,” Jana says pointedly, leaning on her elbows against the kitchen counter, “you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

Azzi grimaces uneasily, not quite wanting to answer the question, “nothing that would require you to leave.”

“If that’s the way you want to play it,” Jana relents, grabbing a soda from the fridge on her way back to the living room, before she pauses in the doorway to look back at Azzi, “but I know what it looks like when somebody’s in love with you. And that girl out there,” she nods her head towards where Clémence is daintily sitting on the couch, “she’s definitely getting there.”

Jana’s a rather observant person but Azzi knows that she’s at least a little bit wrong this time. Because Clémence might be a little bit in love with -even if that’s not a fact Azzi particularly wants to acknowledge- but it's impossible for her to look at Azzi the way Jana remembers someone else looking at her. That had been something completely different; a gaze that saw all the little chinks in her armor, all the imperfections carved against her walls and loved her inspite of them, maybe even because of them. Clémence might love her, but Azzi doesn’t think anyone can be in love with her the way the person she’d been hopelessly in love with, had. 

When she walks back into the living room with the popcorn in hand, still plagued by her younger teammate’s words, Azzi’s deliberate to sit on the couch next to Jana instead of the open space next to the francophone. The flash of hurt in Clémence’s eye causes guilt to trickle down her spine but Azzi thinks a flash is better than the tsunami of pain she could cause if she doesn’t start to ease herself out of this right now. There’s a selfish part of her that doesn’t want to, that’s going to miss having somebody who hangs onto her every word. Azzi likes this feeling of being wanted, even if it’s not by the person she wants. But that person isn’t hers to want anymore and she won’t torture Clémence by barricading her in the same jail that has held Azzi’s soul captive for the last four years. 

They’re about half way through the movie, awkward tension eased by Jana’s incessant chatter, when Azzi’s phone buzzes. Already confused at the timing of the call, she’s even more perplexed to see Ice’s name flashing on the screen. 

“Oooh Iceyyy,” Jana’s eyes light up when she catches a glimpse of the CallerID, “put her on speaker. Ice is one of our UConn teammates,” she explains, turning to Clémence who nods in recognition, “she probably did something dumb as fuck and need Azzi’s advice.”

“Don’t be mean,” Azzi scolds with a grin, knowing that Jana’s probably right as she picks up the call, “hello-”

“I hate you,” Azzi freezes at the sound of the familiar voice, laced with unfamiliar malice. Next to her Jana stiffens immediately while Clémence observes the scene in front of her with a guarded frown. 

“Paige who the fuck are you calling?” Ice’s voice is muffled in the background, “oh shit, Paige give me back my phone.”

“No. She needs to hear this,” Paige grits out, her pitch wavering with the effects of alcohol, “she needs to hear how much I fucking hate her. Azzi do you hear me? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. Did you hear what I said?”

“Paige,” Ice hisses again. 

Azzi swallows the lump in her throat, fingers digging into her bare thighs as she grips her phone so hard, she half-expects it to break into pieces in a reflection of her heart, “I heard you Paige.”

“Good. Because I do. I really fucking hate you,” Paige repeats again and Azzi flinches, “you ruined me Azzi. And now you’re ruining my marriage. My wife is perfect. She loves me. She loves being seen with me. She loves being known as my wife. Everything I ever wanted from you, she’s willing to give me. But she saw that damn hug at the Olympics and she- she’s upset with me. She thinks- she thinks I’m not over you.”

“Az maybe you should-” Jana says softly but Azzi immediately raises a hand to stop her. Maybe she’s a masochist but she can hear the hurt laced underneath the anger in Paige's voice. And if what Paige needs to get rid of her pain is a target to aim all her arrows at, then Azzi’s willing to sacrifice her heart, or at least what little is still left of it. 

“And the worst thing about it,” Paige’s voice breaks, “is that she's probably right. I have the perfect fucking woman at home and I can’t seem to get over the one who broke my heart and never looked back. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Paige,” Ice pleads again and Azzi can hear her former teammate trying her best to wrangle the phone out of Paige’s firm grasp. 

“I’m not done yet Ice. I need to talk to her and I need to talk to her now because if I don’t, I’ll never get the courage to say any of this again,” Paige is sobbing now, and her broken whimpers pierce Azzi’s heart deeper than any words could,  “why couldn’t you just have said yes Az? I know- I know your reasons but why- why couldn’t you have just loved me enough to look past them? How do you do it Azzi? How do you live without me because it’s been four years and I- I still don’t think I know how to live without you and I hate you, I hate you because you do.”

No, Azzi thinks, I really don’t. But she doesn’t say anything, rapidly blinking back tears as she avoids both Jana’s concerned look and Clémence’s more thoughtful gaze. 

“I wish I could just feel nothing towards you Azzi,” Paige confesses, heaving as she struggles to breathe through her tears, “I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want to miss you and I really- I really, really don’t want to love you. Please just make it stop. I’m so tired of this Azzi. I’m so tired of hurting. How do I make it go away? Please tell me how I make it go away? How did you make it go away?”

“I didn’t,” Azzi whispers, so soft she’s not sure Paige heard it; she’s not sure if she wants Paige to have heard it. It’s the kind of pain, she thinks, she’s destined to feel forever. It’s weaved itself into every crevice of body and now it exists as just another innate part of her. Paige thinks Azzi’s learned to live without her but really all Azzi’s learned is how to live with these permanent scars of i think i’ll miss you forever. 

“That’s enough Paige,” Ice’s voice is clearer now, having finally snatched the phone out of her teammate’s grip, “Azzi-” she begins apologetically, “she’s just drunk. She didn’t mean-”

“She did,” Azzi clears her throat, sinking into the way Jana's arms wrap around her, “she’s um- she’s gonna be really hungover in the morning. Make sure she- make sure you give her water but don’t- don’t give her coffee. She’ll want it but it’ll only make it worse because she uh- she- when she drinks too much, her stomach hurts and the caffeine- it just- it makes it worse so- don’t let her drink coffee tomorrow morning okay? And make sure- make sure she eats something before she takes painkillers. And Ice?’

“Yeah Azzi.”

“If she doesn’t remember any of this tomorrow morning, please don’t remind her.”

***

April 2033

The bar is buzzing with noise by the time Paige and Azzi finally arrive. It’s an exclusive enough place that they won’t be too bothered by fans asking for pictures and autographs but the size of the crowd still puts Azzi a little bit on edge. She can’t help the small smile that flitters across her face when she feels Paige’s hand resting on her lower back as the blonde guides the two of them through the crowd in search of their teammates. For the last eight years, Azzi has been her own protector and she’s learned to guard herself but it’s nice -it feels right- to have someone else ready to be her shield too. 

“You know Bueckers,” Joyce says as the two of them finally approach the table that had been reserved for the Valkyries, “some might say that one should be on time when meeting their new teammates. Just a thought.”

“And some might say Edwards that being fashionably late is being on time,” Paige quips back. 

Joyce grins, “alright time for introductions.”

“I’m pretty sure I know-”

“Shut up,” Joyce reprimands, throwing an arm around Paige’s shoulders, “let me introduce these brand new people to you.”

“They’re not-”

“Sssshhh. Let me have my fun. We’ll start over here with Westbeld and Booker. You might know them, their teams kicked your ass during the 23-24 season,” Joyce says with a smirk. 

“Oh I do remember that,” Paige says thoughtfully, eyes twinkling with mirth, “what happened the season after?”

“Don’t be cocky Bueckers. It’s unbecoming,” Madison chides as she rises from the table to give Paige a hug. 

“Yeah I try not to remember that Elite Eight game thanks,” Laila says, making a disgusted face. 

Joyce glares at her, “did I introduce you yet Miss Phelia?”

Laila raises her hands in surrender as Joyce continues to give Paige a tour of the Valkyrie team. Azzi had known that Paige would fit in well with her teammate -really the blonde had the uncanny ability to fit in anywhere- but seeing it realized in front of her, it seems even clearer. Paige feels like the last mosaic piece, slotting in right where she belongs. 

“Those two over there are our babies,” Joyce points to Haylen and Jayla, “they’re like five years old but we love them anyways.”

“I’m almost 25,” Haylen protests. 

“See,” Joyce remarks, “literally children. And that one,” she points to Jana who beams at Paige, “well you already know her even if you sometimes wish you didn’t probably-”

“Hey!”

“Oh shush Jana,” Joyce says airily, “and I supposed there’s no point in introducing Azzi to you since y’all came together,” she pauses to look between them, “y’all don’t live that close to each other. Why didn’t you just carpool with Jana? I’m pretty sure she lives closer to you.”

Paige opens and closes her mouth a couple of times as Azzi feels her own cheeks heat up at the innocent enough question, “we um- well it's just- you see- my house is on the way from her parents and she had to drop off Stephie so it just- it just made sense you know? For efficiency’s sake.”

“Oh yeah for efficiency’s sake. They’re both very efficient,” Jana smirks, “makes a lot of sense.”

Joyce gives all three of them a weird look, “y’all Huskies are strange. It was just a question but anyways,” she grins as she finally steers Paige towards the blonde in the corner and Azzi stiffens at the way Paige’s body immediately tenses, “a couple of our teammates aren’t here but we do have a former teammate. Paige meet Clémence.”

“We’ve met,” Paige says, attempting to school her features to resemble anything but the discomfort she’s feeling within, “during the Olympics that is. We’ve beat France a couple of times.”

It’s a purposeful word choice, beat instead of played and Azzi's fingers fidget with the hem of her top as she tries to avoid looking at either of the two women. 

“Yes. It is good to see you again,” Clémence says tersely, her French accent stronger than the last time Azzi had spoken to her. She shakes Paige’s hand rather formally before her eyes focus on Azzi and she determinedly walks towards the brunette, “and it is really good to see you Azzi. I have missed you.”

“I-” Azzi stutters at the French woman pulls her into a hug; over her shoulder she can practically see steam coming out of Paige’s ears as she hyper focuses on how Clémence makes it a point rub her thumb down Azzi’s back, “it’s um- it’s good to see you too.”

She pulls away and she can feel the disappointment reverberating from Clémence’s body as Azzi practically flings herself on the chair next to Jana, wondering what she’d done to deserve this moment as a punishment for her sins. 

“Save me,” she pleads as Clémence and Paige sit as far away from each other as possible, occasionally shooting glares when they think the other isn’t looking. 

“Save you from having two hot women fighting over you?” the center teases, “you truly have such first world problems Azzi Fudd.”

“They’re not fighting over me-”

“Azzi you will have your usual rum and coke no?” Clémence asks and Azzi looks over to where the francophone is intently staring at her, “I will go-”

“Oh there’s no need,” Paige says immediately, “you sit Clémence. You already have a drink. I was gonna go get one for myself and I’ll get Azzi’s too. Besides, Azzi's more of a fruity drink girl. Az I’ll get you a piña colada-”

Clémence narrows her eyes, “maybe she liked that when she was in college but Azzi likes something different now.”

“She might like something different now,” Paige counters, standing up aggressively so she towers over the table, “but she’s always gonna love a piña colada right Azzi?”

All eyes turn to look at Azzi who wants nothing more than to cower under the table- or hit Jana who seems to find this very unamusinging situation rather entertaining, “I um-” she swallows, “I think tonight calls for something stronger. Round of shots for the table? On me?”

It placates the situation for a while as the rest of the team cheers on the idea, beckoning over one of the bartenders to orders a round of tequila shots for the table. For a moment, Azzi tricks herself into thinking maybe that’ll be the end of ridiculous situations for the night as the team downs shots to Jana yelling “to the Valkyries” but she should have known it was wishful thinking.

Half the team ends up on the dance floor, swaying to the mixed rhythm of the music and the newly minted alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams. Azzi watches with a smile as despite her protests, Joyce manages to drag Paige onto the dance floor with her, engaging her in some eccentric dance moves as they try to outdo each other on who can look the silliest. And as the rest of the girls cheer the blonde on, it feels like Paige is chiseling out a place for herself in another part of Azzi’s world. 

“She is easy to love,” Clémence’s hot breath fans Azzi’s ear as the francophone takes Jana’s empty seat next to the brunette. 

“Clém-” Azzi sighs. 

“She fits in well with the team,” Clémence continues, something wistful in her voice, “I have seen her play. She will fit in well on the court with you guys as well. She will fit in well next to you.”

“That’s the hope,” Azzi says softly as she tilts her head to look at the other woman, “you fit in well too. I mean it Clém. We’ll miss you at GSV.”

Clémence smiles bitterly, “I would have liked to stay but they needed the cap space so they could sign her. She- she’s quite expensive. I mean considering she is casually wearing swarovski crystals on her neck in a bar on a random Saturday night, I am not surprised.”

The two of them laugh despite the gravity that looms heavily over them. Azzi and Clémence haven’t been anything in a long time but she’d never quite shut the possibility of a potential future done. She can hear the lock ready to click now. It’s bittersweet doing the right thing but as Paige glances over from the dancefloor, eyes darting cautiously between the two of them, Azzi knows that she doesn’t want to keep any other doors open. Not when the one with Paige’s name etched on the door handle, leads to home. 

“One last dance?” Clémence asks softly, holding out her hand. 

Azzi hesitates, knowing that it would irritate Paige but she thinks she probably owes Clémence this and so she smiles and takes the francophone’s outstretched hand as they join their other teammates. It’s nothing beyond friendly and they both keep their hands to themselves as they sway to the music, but Azzi can feel the annoyance radiating off of Paige from across the dancefloor. She would never admit it, perhaps it’s a little toxic of her, but there’s a certain thrill to making Paige jealous. There’s something about the way the blonde’s blue eyes flare with ice cold envy, the way her jaw hardens as she grinds her teeth. The way she looks at Azzi like if she had her way she’d drag the brunette out of the bar and mark her with a possessive you’re mine you’re mine youre mine. It makes Azzi clench her thighs together as she tries to focus on Clémence. 

“I understand now,” the francophone says thoughtfully as Azzi’s peers up at her in confusion, “when you told me that you could not be with me. I get it.”

“I don’t-”

“You are here with me but you aren’t actually. You will always be with her,” Clémence tilts her head towards Paige, “you always have been. I understand now,” she says again simply before her face hardens, “even after all those words she said to you on the phone that night.”

Azzi’s stomach curls at the reminder. She knows exactly what night Clémence is referring to. Sometimes when she closes her eyes, it’s those words, coated in anger and malice, that shower around her like acid rain, seeping into her skin and infecting her bloodstream.

“I told you, you deserved better,” Clémence says and Azzi gulps, “but you said- you said you deserved worse. I hope you don’t believe that anymore Azzi. Just because you hurt her doesn’t mean you need to let her hurt you too.”

“I-” Azzi’s cut off by a hard body ramming into her own and she feels herself going stumbling back into the unwanted arms of a random man, “I’m sorry,” she says tersely, struggling to get out his grip. 

“No worries pretty girl,” he says toothily, the heavy stench of alcohol in his breath making Azzi feel nauseous, “but now that you’re here, how about I buy you a drink.”

“No thank you,” Azzi says sternly, trying to push the man away but he’s relentless. 

“Aw c’mon don’t be like that sweetheart,” the term of endearment sounds like an insult falling from his lips and Azzi loses her patience, stomping her heel into the man’s foot to finally free herself from his grip and he yelps in surprise.

“I said no thank you.”

“What the fuck,” the man spits out, standing up as Azzi takes a step back. He’s got some muscle and although, despite his bravado, she knows she’s strong enough to take him, she’d rather not create a scene. Her plan is to walk away. Paige seems to have other ideas, suddenly materializing in between Azzi and the man, a furious look on her face as she squares him up. 

“Do we have a problem?” the blonde asks menacingly. 

“Nothing other than your little friend here being a fucking bitch.”

Paige’s eyes darken as she takes a threatening step towards him, prevented from going further only by the way Azzi immediately laces a hand around her wrist, “what the fuck did you call her?”

“I called her a-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azzi cuts in, stepping in between a glaring Paige and a man who’s clearly underestimating her strength, “let it go Paige.”

“Yeah,” the man mocks, “let it go Paige.”

“You fucking-” Paige tries to lunge at him but Azzi’s quick to shove her back gently. 

“Don’t cause a scene,” she warns. 

“Azzi-”

“Paige please.”

“Holy shit,” the man wolf-whistles, “y’all play for the Valks. You’re Azzi Fudd. I know you.”

“Good for you,” Azzi spits out at him before turning her attention back to Paige, who looks like she could kill the man if given the chance, “c’mon let's go back to our tab-”

“It’s funny you’re acting like such a fucking prude when you have a bastard chi-”

An unmistakable crunch rings out through the bar as the man goes flying backwards. Azzi’s knuckles are bleeding as her breath comes out in ragged huffs. She hadn’t wanted to cause a scene; could have walked away from a man being a drunken idiot, could have walked away from being called a bitch or hell, even something worse. But the man had attacked the one part of her that she’d always be ready to go to war for. He’d brought up Stephie and she’d seen red. Her fist had moved of it's own accord.

Paige doesn’t say anything and Azzi can feel the anger still vibrating from the older woman’s body as she roughly grabs Azzi’s unhurt hand.

“Let’s go,” the blonde’s voice is eerily low, “we’re going home.”

***

It’s a subconscious choice to let Paige drive Azzi’s car even though they’ve both sobered up considerably, not that one shot had done much in the first place. It’s a subconscious choice that Azzi reaches over to lace her fingers through Paige’s free hand, resting it on her lap, as the blonde use her other hand to grip the steering wheel. It’s a subconscious choice that they end up driving to Azzi’s house in complete silence. She’s not sure who’s mad at who, if they’re even mad at each other or that man or just the world but she can feel the fury suffocating the air. 

“Where’s your first-aid kit?” Paige says gruffly as Azzi unlocks the door. 

“Bathroom,” Azzi says quietly and Paige is off towards it before the word has even fully left the brunette’s mouth. Azzi scrambles after her, pausing in the doorway as Paige rummages through drawers, knowing better than to interrupt to help when Paige looks livid like this.

“Sit,” Paige points to the sink once she’s finally found the sanitizer and gauze to clean up dried up blood staining Azzi’s knuckles. 

“I can do it my-”

Paige glares at her, “just sit on the fucking sink Azzi.”

Putting away her own irritation at being told what to do, Azzi lifts herself onto the flat surface of the sink, opening her legs slightly so that Paige can stand between them. Despite still quivering with barely concealed rage, Paige’s touch is gentle as she dabs at the remnants of red liquid on Azzi’s hand. 

“You should’ve just let me punch him when I wanted to,” she says finally. 

“So you could be the one bleeding?” Azzi raises an eyebrow. 

“No because he would’ve never gotten the courage to say shit about Stephie if you’d just let me kill him when he called you a bitch,” Paige bites out venomously. 

“And let you go to jail? I couldn’t do that to Stephie,” Azzi tries to lighten the tension in the room, “she’d miss you too much. 

“This isn’t funny, Azzi,” Paige seethes as she begins to wrap the white gauze around the wound. 

“I know,” the younger woman says, trailing her other hand down Paige’s arms trying to soothe her anger, “but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fucking fine,” Paige yells. 

“Baby-” the word slips out from Azzi’s lips before she can catch it. She hasn’t used it for someone other than Stephie in so long that it feels foreign on her lips and yet, it fits exactly right. 

“Did you call Clémence that too?” and there it is, the real reason behind the volcano erupting as Paige decidedly looks away from Azzi. 

Azzi narrows her eyes, “I don’t know Paige. Did you call Olivia that?”

“That’s different,” Paige grits out, “Olivia was my wife.”

Azzi flinches at the word; hates that somebody else had ever had the honor of being called that even if she knows it’s unfair of her to feel that way when she’s the one that had turned it down first. 

“Exactly,” she says slowly, “you married someone else-” she holds up a hand when Paige protests, “I know. I know I said no but you married someone else Paige. So you don’t get to be mad at me for having something with someone else too.”

Paige is quiet for a moment and Azzi sees the exact moment the fight leaves her body as she lets out a sigh, leaning her head against Azzi’s shoulder. 

“You’re right,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s neck, hands moving to rest against the brunette’s thighs. 

Azzi runs her hand through Paige’s hair, brushing it in tandem with the harmony of her breathing, “we can’t keep throwing the past in each other’s face, Paige.”

“I know,” Paige breath tickles against Azzi’s skin and she shivers in spite of the tense moment,“I just-” the blonde lifts her head to look at Azzi, “I need to know who Clémence was to you. You- you know what Olivia was to me and I- I just need to know the same about Clémence.”

“She-” Azzi hesitates, “we hooked up a couple of times,” she squeezes Paige’s hand when the blonde flinches, “but then she- she wanted more but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do that. Partly because I didn’t- I didn’t feel the same- don’t look so smug,” Azzi chides when a small grin forms on Paige’s face, “and partly because we were on the same team. I didn’t want to complicate things, not like last time. Feel like I should probably have a rule not to date teammates.”

“Right.”

Azzi watches the cogs turning in Paige’s brain and she reaches out a hand to ease the creases forming on her forehead, “what are you thinking Bueckers?”

“I just-” Paige bites her lip, “what about me?”

“What about you?”

“I mean we’re gonna be- I mean we are- we’re on the same team too,” Paige says and Azzi can hear the insecurity of will you leave me again weaved through her voice. 

“You don’t get it yet do you,” Azzi whispers, reaching up to cup Paige’s face, “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”

[ninibeingdelulu]

"I'm right here"

plot- an argument with depressed geto CLICK ME

"I can't believe you're being like this!"

Suguru's voice cracked with frustrated accusation, slamming his textbook down with enough force to make you flinch.

"It's like you're purposefully trying to drive a wedge between Satoru and me just because you're jealous!"

You felt your hands ball into fists at your sides as that familiar spike of molten defensiveness surged through your veins.

How dare he diminish your concerns so callously after everything you'd been through together? As if your feelings were some trite, immature flight of fancy rather than the genuine loneliness you'd been grappling with lately.

"Jealous?" you scoffed, tossing your pencil aside with a heated glare.

"You really think I'm that petty? That this is just me throwing some pathetic tantrum over not getting enough attention from Wunderkind Geto?"

Suguru opened his mouth - undoubtedly to fire back with another biting remark - but you barreled forward, finally allowing the dam holding back weeks of bottled resentment to burst open.

No more mincing words or letting things fester until they'd reached this ugly, toxic fever pitch.

"I'm worried about you, jackass!"

You shoved off the couch, gesturing wildly as the torrent of pent-up emotions flooded free in a tumultuous rush.

"That's all I've wanted from the start! For you to actually let me in about what's been eating you up so badly lately that you've become a total goddamn stranger!"

Suguru seemed to visibly deflate somewhat under the brunt force of your outburst. But that brief hesitation was rapidly replaced by the familiar stubborn set of his squared jaw and narrowed onyx gaze which indicated the imminent eruption of his own fiery temper.

"Oh, so now you're my therapist?" he sneered, bracing his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in your direction with acerbic challenge.

"Sorry I've been such an inconvenience while busting my ass trying to actually secure my future instead of wasting time with teenage melodrama!"

You shook your head in disbelief, throwing your hands up as another harsh bark of laughter cut through the tension like a serrated blade.

"Un-fucking-believable...Is that seriously what you think this is about? Me being petty over you 'wasting time' with dumb high school bullshit?!"

Suguru simply glowered in stony silence, the muscle in his clenched jaw visibly twitching.

Waiting for you to either continue your tirade or offer more proof of your apparent delusions over the state of things between you.

Well, if he wanted you to spell out the tangled knot of anguish and confused longing festering in your chest with stark clarity...Then so be it.

"I'm in love with you, you arrogant prick!"

The confession exploded out of you with enough volcanic force to make you immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

Yet once uncorked, there was no recapturing the deluge as it raged on, raw and unfettered.

"And it's been ripping me apart watching you spiral so far down in this pit of darkness without letting anyone in to try and pull you back out!"

Suguru looked as though he'd been struck across the face.

All residual ire seeping away into slack-jawed shock and visceral vulnerability cracking those steely exterior walls you'd slammed against so fruitlessly in the past.

His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, those intense obsidian eyes you used to lose yourself in now swimming with a thousand different conflicting emotions roiling in their tumultuous depths.

The sudden, stark silence stretching between you was enough to buffer even the frantic hammering of your pulse thundering past your ears.

The fear of obliterating one of the most important relationships of your life in that combustive outpouring constricted around your throat like a vise of pure dread.

Then, after what felt like an eternity...Suguru's expression shifted again.

His features settling into an almost haunted kind of resignation piercing directly into your very soul. When he spoke, his typically unflappable baritone emerged cracking and subdued - the most naked glimpse you'd ever witnessed of what laid beneath the surface he fought so vigilantly to repress.

"I...I know..." he confessed in a gust of breath barely above a whisper.

One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare. "Fuck, I've known how you felt and I-I kept pushing you away so I wouldn't hurt you more by—"

The strangled catch in his throat cut off whatever fragile truth seemed to be teetering on the precipice of being laid bare between you.

Suguru's free hand balled into a fist clenching the material of his pants until his knuckles bored white while haunted shadows flickered across his downturned visage.

Never before had you witnessed him look so...utterly wrecked. So excruciatingly human under the weight of inner demons you'd never known to be lurking underneath it all.

Not until they'd already carved out pieces of him you might never get the chance to recover.

But you couldn't allow either of you to retreat into that isolating darkness anymore. Not after clawing your way this deep into the open wounds between you both.

Too many regrets were already trailing behind in your wake...

The deafening silence hung thick and palpable in the wake of Suguru's shattered admission.

You could practically taste the roiling torrent of unspoken truths and anguished vulnerability thrashing violently just beneath the surface he was struggling so viscerally to repress.

You knew with every fiber of your being that if you didn't reach out in this pivotal moment, the fragile threads binding you both together risked snapping under the immense strain.

And you refused to let that happen - even if it meant wading blindly into the shadowy depths of whatever demons were currently carving him hollow from the inside.

Tentatively, you bridged the couch cushions separating you and laid your palm overtop that trembling fist clenched with white-knuckled force against his thigh.

Suguru flinched slightly at the contact, but didn't immediately recoil away. Emboldened by that microscopic victory, you gently pried his fingers open to lace them through your own in silent invitation.

"Suguru..." you murmured, injecting as much tender reassurance into his name as humanly possible.

"Whatever it is causing you so much pain...you don't have to keep shouldering it alone anymore. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

His jaw clenched spasmodically, those turbulent eyes still steadfastly averted from meeting your concerned gaze.

You could see the muscle twitching in his cheek from the sheer force he was exerting to keep that impenetrable mask locked firmly in place.

But you refused to relent, rubbing the pad of your thumb soothingly across his knuckles in hopes of coaxing him to simply breathe. To open himself up even a sliver after all this time...

"Please," you implored, daring to shuffle closer until your thighs were a hairsbreadth from touching.

Until that painfully unguarded expression was directly in your line of vision, begging to be witnessed without judgment or reprimand.

"Let me help carry this for you, 'Guru. You've been alone with this anguish for too long..."

Finally, finally , some of that tightly wound tension began leeching from his hunched shoulders as if the words had sliced through some of those invisible restraints shackling him down.

Suguru raised his other hand to rake shakily through his tousled raven locks, unravelling before your very eyes.

When his gaze at last lifted to lock with yours, the sight of those inky pools swimming with so much naked, harrowing vulnerability physically winded you.

"I'm so afraid..." he confessed in a ragged whisper thick with shame and trepidation.

His hand convulsed where you clutched it in your lap as if the admission had torn open a fresh, gaping wound inside.

"I've convinced myself I have this grand purpose to dedicate myself to completely, but there's a part of me that wonders if it's all been an excuse...a distraction from facing how truly lost and messed up I've become."

Tears glistened in those haunted obsidian depths and your heart shattered at the sight of Suguru's meticulously constructed walls crumbling before your eyes.

The instinctive need to pull him into your embrace and chase those demons away was near overpowering.

Yet you resisted, allowing him to unfurl at his own pace without outside influence. Simply being the steady presence and supportive tether he so clearly needed more than he'd realized.

"Everyone told me I was destined for greatness after awakening to my talents...That I possessed a gift entrusted to rectify this curse plaguing our kind."

Suguru's voice had descended into a hoarse, halting murmur as the floodgates burst completely open.

Each gravelly syllable etched in anguish carved into his very marrow.

"But deep down, I've always been so goddamn afraid of failing. Of disappointing everyone and being seen as the fraud I've convinced myself I must be for harboring any weakness or-or..."

His words finally failed, fading into a ragged exhalation torn from his very core as he lifted his imploring gaze beseechingly to yours.

"God, why am I like this? Why does any of this matter when all I've wanted is to open my eyes and see you smiling back at me without all this bullshit driving us apart?"

Your throat constricted wordlessly, scorching tears blurring your vision at the utter desolation contorting Suguru's features into the most wrenching expression imaginable.

Here was the strongest, most indomitable person in your life bearing the very depths of his shattered soul before you in total surrender.

And you instantly knew in that pivotal, crystalline moment - there was nowhere else you could ever fathom being that wasn't by his side.

Providing the steadfast strength and acceptance for those fragmented pieces until he felt whole enough to stand on his own once more.

There would be more tears, more shards to sift through together in confronting this pervasive darkness slowly consuming him from the inside out.

But the first painful, cathartic step had been taken. And you fully intended to never allow Suguru to slip backward into that isolating abyss ever again.

So you did the only thing left to reassure him he wasn't alone in this monumental fight for his very sense of self and purpose.

You surged forward and pulled him into your fiercely protective embrace - cradling his shuddering form flush against your chest as his own quiet sobs finally shook loose in heartrending waves.

"I'm here...I'm right here, 'Guru..." you whispered over and over into the downy strands of ebony hair tickling your lips.

"We're going to get through this, I swear it..."

Your shared tears and ragged breaths mingled achingly between your twined bodies as a new, mended path forward gradually unfurled with each passing heartbeat.

From the ashes of everything you thought you'd understood about him and the conflicted world he inhabited...

Bound now by the decision to walk whatever darkened road stretched ahead completely united in purpose and love at long last laid bare - come what may.

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 3

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!

The raindrops fell over the cobblestones, and, in particular, those falling from the gable were heavy against the small porch of the chapel where she waited. She breathed into her hands, seeking warmth as she tilted her head to the side. Now alone, she felt her curiosity begin to spark, like a cat finally let out of its carrier. 

The narrow side streets hinted at the town’s size and social standing, with only one main road that, incidentally, was the only paved one. She guessed that if the weather hadn’t been so dreary, she could have seen the end of it. Her more optimistic side blamed the weather, but the town struck her as dreadful. In the distance, her attention was drawn to the farmer who had been inside with them. 

He was talking to someone she assumed was his wife or another townsperson, with his horse beside him and a border collie patiently waiting against his leg. Eventually, both of them turned to look at her, and she stiffened under their scrutiny. 

‘Should I... wave at them? Don’t small towns know everyone? Should I start getting to know everyone?’ 

But as her mind filled with these thoughts, they turned back to talk to each other. She pressed her lips together, feeling time drag painfully. The coat over her head made her uneasy. Almost involuntarily, she took a few deep breaths, catching a faint scent in the air, and then another, more focused sniff. It felt like cheating somehow, though it wasn’t, as her nose itched from his scent, and her body seemed to process it more deeply. 

‘It’s deeper than Die...’ she thought melancholically. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t encountered many unmated alphas in her life, or at least hadn’t gotten close enough to catch their scent. ‘Well… isn’t he humanity’s strength? ...something like that. I guess it takes some strong genes to be called that.’ 

“All right.” Levi’s voice startled her, and she tensed, turning to see him. He was drenched from his search for horses but seemed to handle it with a calmness, like sheep who don’t mind the sky falling on them. His hand held the reins of two horses, and, if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere, she might have chuckled. 

The black horse was absurdly tall and elegant, while the other was a dirty white with grayish spots, shorter and with bulkier legs. 

“You can have the one I rented if you prefer,” Levi offered, handing her the reins. But she didn’t take them right away. 

“Um…” She hesitated. “Sorry. I’ve never ridden alone,” she explained. Then, feeling the need to clarify, she added, “I usually just take carts.” 

Levi quickly grasped the issue. After a brief consideration, he reached back and switched the reins. "Take mine," he said, extending the reins of the black mare instead. "She’s calm and obedient.”  Levi said, nodding toward the mare. “Scout-trained.”  

She looked at the tall, sleek horse in front of her, nerves clear on her face. He jerked his thumb at the other smaller, stocky white one. “This one, I don’t know.” 

Her hand tentatively moved forward to touch the mare’s nose. At her touch, the horse nudged forward, her dark eyes focused intently on her. The mare’s imposing size made her hesitate. “Can’t we just ride together?” 

Levi, double-checking the saddle, looked back and replied firmly, “No. Too much mud on the way. I don’t want to put extra weight on her.” 

When he finished adjusting the saddle, he held out his arm, gesturing for her to step closer. He gave her a once-over and instructed, “Take the cloak underneath. No point in wearing it now that it’s soaked.” 

‘Well… he does enjoy giving orders,’ she thought. 

Feeling self-conscious under his observant gaze, she removed his coat, then unfastened her cloak, which was heavy and sodden. Her cheeks flushed as she noticed the white dress beneath was now damp and clung uncomfortably. She quickly ran her hands over her arms, trying to cover up, but Levi moved smoothly, placing his coat back over her shoulders before tossing the soaked cloak over the mare’s back. 

She took her position beside the mare, gripping the saddle, though her uncertainty was plain. “But… with my dress and that saddle, it’ll be difficult to ride with my legs on the side.” 

“Ride with your legs apart.” 

She looked over her shoulder at him as he moved to help her up. Despite his short height, he hoisted her up smoothly onto the mare. She was perched high above him now, gripping the reins and feeling the unfamiliar weight of control. Levi stepped back and gave her a once-over, as though to make sure she was seated safely. 

“This isn’t very ladylike,” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of unease as the powerful animal shifted beneath her. 

Levi raised an eyebrow, still maintaining his stoic look but with a glint of dry humor breaking through. “Well,” he said, his voice calm and low, “I’m the husband now, and I don’t mind it.” 

But the silence that followed told him all he needed to know: she didn’t find it funny. 

“Just hold steady,” he advised, placing a hand on the mare’s neck in an almost fatherly pat. “She’s been through rougher trips than this.” 

The mare, as if responding to his touch, lowered her head, brushing her soft nose against his hair and disheveling it slightly, so that her dark fur mingled with his equally raven locks. 

With that, he took the reins and knotted them to the other horse and swung himself up with practiced ease, barely flinching at the wet leather. It struck her that he was completely in his element, as if he belonged here in this bleak weather and muddy roads, as if he barely noticed the discomfort. 

The rain pattered steadily, its soft murmur filling the quiet as Levi guided his horse through the thickening gloom of the forest. Her soaked white cloak hung limply from the horse’s saddle. The water on it was counterproductive to keep the warmth, so she took it off. The green trench coat pulled over her head helped more, but it was far from miraculous. Despite the rain, a thick fog was rising as they left the small countryside town and ventured deeper into the forest. Soon, the cobblestones ended, leaving the horses to trudge through thick mud. The road became nearly invisible just a few steps ahead, and she cast a nervous glance at the forest, which seemed to stretch on endlessly. 

“Captain… shouldn’t we wait? It’s getting dark, and it could be dangerous,” she murmured, eyeing the shifting shadows between the trees. 

Levi’s response was firm, almost cutting. “I told you to call me Levi, and don’t worry.” His tone was as sharp as his gaze ahead. She wasn’t convinced, her brows knitting together in silent protest. Y/N clung tightly to the saddle of the black mare Levi had called his own. His raven hair stuck to his forehead as the rain poured mercilessly on him without his trench coat. When she pressed again, “But—” he cut her off. 

“I wouldn’t do anything dangerous,” he declared, his tone allowing no debate. “If I say it’s safe, it’s safe. Understood?” 

She murmured a reluctant hum, clearly displeased, but he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes piercing. “I didn’t hear you.” 

She swallowed, muttering low, “Understood.” The word fell with barely concealed disdain, and under her breath, she added with a hint of defiance, “…sir.” 

‘He said it wasn’t that far...’ but as they continued, it became clear that the headquarters weren’t close by. 

Each step the horse took forward felt like moving deeper into an enclosure, further away from family and friends. Eventually, the rocky forest path opened onto the scouts' rustic facility—a large training field of neatly trimmed grass and a main building looming in the darkness, with smaller buildings in the back. She squinted, barely able to make them out through the thick fog but guessed they might be the barracks, possibly separated by gender. 

She thought they would stop at the main doors, but Levi guided the horses further. The place overwhelmed her—she didn’t know where to look, and the quietness, at least from the outside, only made her more curious. 

“Where is everyone?” she asked. 

Levi looked around the quiet training grounds. “It’s late. Most of the soldiers are in the mess hall for dinner or getting ready for curfew,” he explained, his eyes sweeping the area with practiced vigilance. “Especially in this shitty weather.” 

He dismounted near a back entrance, which seemed to be a service area littered with discarded training materials. When the horses stopped, she moved to dismount, glancing down to gauge the distance to the ground. 

“Need help?” he asked, already striding over with firm steps, his boots far better equipped for the weather than hers. He positioned himself behind her and said, “Let go, I got you.” 

With his hands under her arms, he lifted her down with surprising ease. She turned quickly to face him, but he just said, “Stay here. I’ll put the horses away.” before she could protest. 

Though Levi’s presence didn’t exactly warm the atmosphere, his absence made the cold settle in even deeper. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around hectic —taking in the swaying trees under t the gusting wind, the flashes of lightning splitting the clouds. While the rain had momentarily stopped on the way back, it was obvious it wasn’t over. The forest sounds felt ominous in the dark, with only dim light illuminating the semi-open area at the back of the building. 

‘I feel like a doe... in the middle of a meadow.’ 

Ignoring Levi’s instruction, she opened the door and stepped inside. She glanced down both ends of the corridor, where yellowish candlelight cast a warm glow. The hum of distant voices filled the air, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘It stinks.’ 

It reeked of alphas—too many of them. Down the corridor to her left, she saw two young women, a brunette and a dark-haired one, passing by. The brunette noticed her standing in the hallway and looked back with a puzzled expression. 

‘Alright, maybe this time I should actually introduce myself.’ 

She raised a hand slightly, giving a tentative wave, but the brunette turned, calling out to someone— 

“I thought I told you to stay there.” Levi’s voice cut in from behind, firm with a trace of irritation as he locked the back door. Without further comment, he led her up a nearby staircase, his movements swift and purposeful. 

“But—” she started to object, glancing to the side, but he was already nudging her forward. His hand hovered at her back, as if nudging her without physically touching her, more a mental command than a physical push. 

As they ascended the stairs, Sasha, a brunette at the far end of the corridor, tugged on Jean and Connie’s arms. “See, she’s there!” she exclaimed. But when the three of them looked down the hall, no one was there—only a trail of muddy footprints. 

“...She was there,” Sasha insisted. 

Jean shot her a skeptical look. “Sasha, are you that hungry you’re seeing things... again?” 

Sasha frowned, clearly annoyed. “I saw her! I might be hungry, but I’m not imagining things.” 

“Well, she’s not there now, that’s for sure,” Connie said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Maybe a ghost?” 

“A suicidal one,” Jean added dryly. “Only higher-ups use the back door. And if Captain Levi sees that mud, he’d probably drag out a Ouija board just to kick that ghost’s ass for dirtying his floors.” 

Sasha and Connie started to walk away, but Jean paused, wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air with a puzzled expression. “...I do smell something strange, though.” 

Sasha and Connie shrugged, both of them betas, unable to pick up on any scent. But Mikasa, overhearing, joined them, her dark eyes narrowing. “Jasmine, berries, and coconut milk.” 

Jean shot her a smirk. “Well, I did switch to a new cologne…” 

But Mikasa ignored him, already walking ahead with a thoughtful expression, leaving Jean to trail off, his attempt at humor forgotten. 

As they moved through the winding corridors, she struggled to keep pace. Levi’s stride was steady and brisk, his attention fixed forward, but after a few glances back, he seemed to notice her struggle. With a subtle sigh, he slowed his pace focusing on her feet to match her pace.  

As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice the trail of mud they were leaving behind. Each footprint was a smear of damp earth and grime on the clean floor. His jaw tightened, and he clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘Focus on the important shit,’ he reminded himself. 

Reaching the door to his chambers, he patted his trousers absently, then checked the pockets of his uniform jacket. His brow creased in mild annoyance before he remembered: ‘The keys are in my coat.’ 

He moved closer to her, his face showing a rare hint of apology. “Sorry,” he murmured, reaching into the pockets of the coat she wore. She held still as he fished around, finally pulling out the key with a subtle nod. 

Before turning the key in the lock, he looked down at her shoes, now caked in mud. 

“Wait,” he muttered, holding a hand up. He gestured to her shoes with a short nod. “Shoes off,” he instructed, bending to remove his own boots first, leaving them by the doorway. She followed suit, slipping off her mud-caked shoes, which felt heavier with every step. 

She hesitated, glancing at the mud-covered shoes, but then leaned against the wall to remove her shoes. He did the same, tugging off his own boots and setting them neatly to the side. Once they were both ready, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for her to step inside. 

To be honest, she couldn’t say she was disappointed—her journey to his office had shown her this wasn’t the marriage she’d imagined. She’d heard the Scouts were… humble people. ‘A sweet way to call them low class,’ she thought wryly, fiddling with her loose ring, trying to keep it from slipping off her finger. Part of her almost wished the room would stay dark so she wouldn’t have to face reality, while another part hoped for a glimmer of candlelight to surprise her for the better. 

Levi shut the door behind him with a subtle sigh, closing his eyes briefly, as if gathering strength from somewhere unknown. ‘One task down,’ he reminded himself, as if safely getting her to the Scout headquarters unnoticed was his toughest mission yet. He shrugged off his uniform jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. 

She stood, frozen in place, as he walked past her, lighting a few candles he’d set up earlier. He busied himself lighting more, methodically checking off tasks from his mental to-do list. “Why don’t you take a shower? The water should be warm,” he suggested. 

‘And... here it is,’ she thought, her pupils darting around the room as though afraid to turn her head, scanning the place as the light started to fill it. She tried to hide her discomfort, not so much from a lack of hygiene as from a lack of warmth. Catching his eyes on her, she forced a thin smile. “Very... modest.” 

‘…Empty and rustic, but the last thing I want to find out is what he’s like when he’s mad.’ 

The room had only two doors: one, she guessed, led to a small bathroom, and the other to the bedroom. The main space was an office with a single shelf filled with books and not much else. ‘Doesn’t he have paintings or decorations?’ She found herself searching for anything that might make the space feel less austere and more homely, something to give her a glimpse of who he was. The office seemed to be the most furnished part of the quarters, with a set of sofas, a coffee table by the fireplace, and a desk. The large arched window was probably his only indulgence, a feature suggesting he spent most of his time here. 

“Shower?” Levi insisted, “Don’t take it personally, but I’d like to shower too.” 

That snapped her out of her trance. “Oh—sure,” in a small voice. “Um... where did you put my luggage?” 

Levi’s brow furrowed, and after a moment, he realized he hadn’t noticed her lack of belongings. “Was I supposed to have it?” he replied, answering her question with another—not a habit of his. 

“I sent it ahead, two days ago,” she explained, “They told me it would be best.” 

His eyes flicked to the window and the rain still pouring down outside. ‘Well… I think it’s pretty clear why that didn’t arrive yet.’ 

With a weary sigh, Levi leaned against his desk, one hand running over his damp hair. He looked worn out, both physically and emotionally. “This is a rural area,” he said, “and with this rain, it could take a few more days. A cart wouldn’t make it through the forest right now.” 

Levi stepped over to his bedroom, opened a few drawers, and, without moving from her spot, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look. She leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse over the door frame. 

She couldn’t see much, but curiosity stretched her mouth open as she craned her neck. A chest of drawers held neatly folded clothes, a couple of books stacked on top, and a wardrobe nearby had boxes on top that reached the ceiling (probably he used it as storage) with boots lined up beneath it. There was a standing mirror in one corner and she could only see the wood footboard of a small bed against the wall. 

“Here, you can—” Levi turned back toward her, catching her in the act of peeking. She straightened up quickly, feigning innocence. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious interest. “It’s not as if it’s off-limits. Walk in if you want.” 

‘Like a dog caught digging through the trash,’ he thought, mildly amused by her guilty expression. 

“Anyway, here.” He handed her some clothes. “The rest is in the bathroom.” 

She took them with a distracted nod, disappearing behind the bathroom door. 

“Ah...” He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding as he let himself collapse, boneless, into his desk chair. His hair was soaked, as was the rest of him, but he didn’t care. “A moment of silence.” 

Though she hadn’t said much, her silence was somehow louder than any words. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he felt drained—he’d been through expeditions to retake Wall Maria, yet this felt just as exhausting. But as always, Levi quickly pushed himself back up, pressing the bridge of his nose to calm the headache beginning to throb behind his eyes, and moved on. 

“I don’t have time to slack off,” he grunted to himself. He didn’t have much firewood left—it had been an unusually warm spring until today, and firewood was a luxury he was used to being frugal with, like nearly everything else in his life. 

'She should probably dry her hair before bed,' he thought, setting a kettle of water on in case she wanted tea. He considered making himself a cup but, as “going to bed” crossed his mind, the idea shifted to the liquor he had stashed in a cabinet. He poured himself a small glass, not intending to get drunk, but needing something that soothed him better than his usual caffeine. 

The fire began warming the room, and he placed his coat and jacket near it. He stepped outside briefly to bring in their shoes, cleaning them off and setting them to dry. The kettle’s whistle echoed in the quiet room, and he took it off the heat. That’s when a thought began to bother him. 

‘Should I check?’ He found himself near the bathroom door, ear pressed against it, straining to hear any sign of life. ‘What if she passed out in there?... or maybe she’s just constipated and can’t take a shit’ 

Knocking softly, he asked, “You okay in there?” 

“Yes, sorry.” 

Relieved but mildly exasperated, he shook his head. She’s using up all the water in the place, he thought, realizing she’d definitely not adapted to the military’s five-minute shower rule. 

Inside the bathroom, she was struggling to detangle her hair, but there was no conditioner, no hair mask, or anything remotely helpful. Her skin felt dry without any lotion, slightly raw from the harsh soap he had. Her hair smelled vaguely like cucumber, a tangled mess that only worsened under her frustrated attempts. 

“We are not going to cry, we are not going to cry,” she kept whispering to herself in front of the mirror. 

‘This was supposed to be my wedding night,’ 

For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of her fiancé slowly, reverently helping her out of her wedding dress—a dress chosen just for him. She’d imagined him finally seeing her, her skin soft, her scent sweet enough to eat, a blend of lotion, perfume, everything. 

Instead, here she was, struggling with tangled hair and an uncooperative brush, her mascara still on because there was no makeup remover, wearing a baggy T-shirt and gray sweatpants, smelling like some generic soap, with her wedding dress stuffed in a dirty laundry basket. 

A million questions rushed through her mind. ‘What do I do?… Should I just lay there and let him do whatever he wants?’ ‘Is it going to hurt?’ ‘Would he force me to do something?’ 

“I could lock myself in here forever,” she reasoned, gripping the doorknob. ‘…Or could I?’ 

But eventually, she stepped out cautiously, slowly opening the door. He was sitting with his back to her, watching the fire from one of the couches. When he sensed her presence, he glanced over his shoulder. “Finally. For a moment, I thought you drowned in there.” 

Eyes downcast, she muttered, “Sorry.” 

Levi clicked his tongue. “It was a joke,” he grunted, feeling like nothing he said made the situation any less awkward. 

Levi noticed her standing there, looking unsure and uncomfortable, and with a small sigh, he gestured toward the couch. "Sit down," he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Dry up. It's cold in here." 

She hesitated but finally obeyed, slowly lowering herself onto the couch, her hands still clinging to her damp hair. Levi awkwardly stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before clearing his throat before speaking again. 

"Do you want something to eat? I can go see if there’s anything left from dinner," he asked awkwardly, already knowing she hadn’t eaten since the long journey. 

She didn’t reply immediately, only giving a soft hum as her response. Levi looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed.  

"That’s a no, then?" he muttered, then shifted his weight and walked to the desk. He leaned against it, sipping from his glass.  

"Fine," he muttered, “but I prefer when people actually answer me with words.” 

She didn’t respond. He glanced over at her, then added, “You sure? I can bring something. I don’t mind.” 

"No, thank you," she replied, her voice quiet but clear. 

Levi let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, not wanting to push her. He felt an odd tension in the air as he took another sip from his drink. “Alright then.” He paused before offering, "Tea, maybe?” 

"No, thank you." Her voice was quiet, distant. 

Levi exhaled a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair as he tried to focus on the fire.  

The tension lingered in the air, and after a moment, she spoke again, breaking the silence.  

"When do you think my things will arrive?" she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice. 

Levi glanced at her, "Could take a while. The roads are bad, especially with this weather." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before continuing. "But if you need anything urgently, just tell me." 

She hesitated, her eyes darting away. Levi frowned slightly, sensing she was holding something back. He was starting to feel a little impatient. 

"Are you still on the rags?" he asked bluntly, unable to ignore the subtle discomfort in the way she fidgeted. "Need something for that?" 

Her eyes widened, a blush creeping across her face as she looked away, clearly embarrassed by the question. She seemed to shrink under his gaze, her shoulders stiffening.  

"I-I’m fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Levi raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her answer. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he was certain that something was off. He wasn’t about to let her go without offering help, though. 

"Look, if you need anything, just say it." He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening slightly, “I can be named humanity’s strongest and all that bullshit but I’m not a mind reader,” 

She didn’t meet his eyes, still hesitant, but Levi stood still, waiting for her to speak. ‘There’s no point dragging this out any longer,’ she decided. 

“No, uh—” she chose her words carefully, “I’m over it.” 

Levi still seemed confused, so she clarified, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m... ready for you… whenever you tell me.” 

Her words dropped into the room like the cannonballs once used to break titans’ necks. Levi’s first thought, admittedly, wasn’t his most noble: ‘So... she thinks people don’t fuck when women are bleeding or?’ 

Lost in his thoughts and the awkwardness of the moment, he didn’t notice how she bit her lip, glancing up at him shyly. “Just—please, don’t be too rough on me.” 

Captain Levi always had a comeback, a retort, a dry response. But now, he only pressed his fingers against his glass, eyes locked with hers, lips parted as if to speak but words caught in the back of his throat. Across his life, he’d seen people look at him in many ways—admiration, anger, pity, fear—but hers was different. Her eyes, reflective and tinged red, stared up at him with something close to terror. A terror filled with pure resignation, pleading him.  

His jaw tightened, and he felt a knot form in his throat. ‘I’m going to make those bastards pay for this,’ He broke eye contact, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

It was painful, painful for him to think someone could look at him like that. To see him as someone who might treat her as an object, begging him that at least, if he was going to do that, not to be a brute about it. But the worst part, the thought that clenched his throat even more was: ‘Like my mother…’ 

The room felt silent except for the branches scratching against the window in the storm outside and the flickering firelight. He forced his voice to sound steady. “Just go to bed.” 

“Huh?” she asked, confused. “...Should I...wait for you there?” 

Levi shook his head. “I can’t do it. Just go to bed. You look like shit.” 

He wasn’t known for being the best communicator, and his words often got lost in translation.  She blinked, panic rising in her eyes. “I’m...not pretty enough? I tried to look my best—I didn’t mean to disappoint. Please, don’t call this off…” 

The thought of being sent back as a failure made her stomach turn. Her family, her younger sisters, her grandmother—they all depended on her. 

Levi raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “Oi, oi, relax. I didn’t mean that—damn it! I meant you look tired.” 

“But—” she hesitated, moving a step toward him but keeping her distance. 

“Shit,” he muttered, his cheeks warming slightly. “It has nothing to do with that.” 

Her confusion was clear, so he forced himself to say it: “You’re...pretty, alright? That’s not the issue.” 

She still looked uncertain. “If you don’t…claim me…what will people say?” she asked. “People will look down on you as a soldier, as a man...as an alpha.” 

Levi chuckled, though he didn’t mean it. “Well, one good thing about who I am is that everyone’s too scared to say anything to my face,” he replied, almost gently. “I just can’t—not while you’re this scared.” 

The truth hung in the air, and she resumed fidgeting with her ring, frowning as she looked at the carpet and her voice grew quieter. “What if…I never want to?” 

Levi shrugged, too tired to pretend. “Then I guess we’ll wait until next spring when we’re both so damn drunk on hormones, you’ll be begging for it, and neither of us will remember it.” 

"Spring?" she echoed, her caution mixed with disbelief. "But that’s a long wait..." 

“Oh, well,” he said, with a dry humor, “we’ll just have to try not to kill each other in the meantime.” He gestured to the room. “Go to bed.” 

"Where will you sleep?" she asked, then added, almost disappointed, "Do you... have someone else?" 

Not that she was jealous, but she’d heard that “a good wife always knows.” 

This time, the question made Levi scoff, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Good one. No, I don’t. I don’t even use the bed—I sleep at my desk.” 

‘That can’t be healthy,’ she thought, grimacing. But, like a mouse just freed by a cat, she walked cautiously toward the bedroom, unsure if this escape was real. That can’t be healthy, she thought with a grimace of disapproval. But with hesitant steps, like a mouse released from a cat’s grip, she headed toward the room, still unsure how real this escape was. 

Levi finished his drink, then readied himself to take his own shower, thinking, ‘It’s going to be a long, tense wait until next spring.’ 

A wait filled with mounting anxiety. 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[your-friendly-sociopath]

I've been thinking recently about a story I made a while back about yandere alastor while he was alive, and apparently ppl liked it so I've decided to make a part two of that, but it's shortly after both alastor and his darling (reader obv) are dead

Also bc alastor is hot and I need more

Part one here

His Darling Doe, Pt 2

After Alastor had "saved" you in the alleyway, he never let you leave the cabin

For the rest of your (admittedly short) life, he had forced you into the role of the meek and helpless housewife

It wasn't so bad, he was a gentleman and always made sure you had everything you could want

Except your freedom of course

The night alastor died you thought you were finally free

But nope

Turns out that when the cops found out he was the killer, they thought you were an accomplice and had you sentenced to death

One moment you were on an electric chair, the next you were falling from the sky

As you were falling you heard a loud screech, and could see the devastated look coming from a glowing creature above

It looked like an angel

The next thing you noticed was a glowing green chain dragging you down (bc the chain scene was so hrrrgh)

And the last thing you noticed was two small wings attached to your back, you watched as the once snowy white color became corrupted by black and green -the same shade of green as the chain- then you hit the ground and blacked out

Again you woke up, face smushed against the weirdly warm cement

Confused, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position, and looked around trying to make sense of your surroundings

Right as you finally pulled yourself to your feet (or hooves, since ur a deer demon cause I say so) you heard a very loud, very staticy, and very family voice

A voice you had come to both dread and love while alive

"Ah, there are my dear. I was starting to think that my spells hadn't worked!"

Your eyes widened in horror as you turned to face the man you had once loved, your now discolored wings subconsciously wrapping around you in an attempt to comfort you

"No... not you" you whispered

Alastor tilted his head in confusion

" Whatever do you mean by that, my darling doe? I'd have thought you would be absolutely ecstatic to see me!"

You scowled at him and took a step back, to which he responded by smiling wider and stepping forward

"Come now my dear, you can't really be upset still, everything I did was to keep you safe."

Your ears (you hadn't noticed you deer ears in your hair until they had just moved, surprising you) flattened in irritation as your wings flared out in anger

"You kept me locked up in that God forsaken cabin," you hissed "trapped there to be nothing more than a trophy for you."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, he had known that you didn't like being kept in the house, but he couldn't just let you out!

Anything could've happened to you, he was simply protecting you!

Alastor decided to close the distance between you two, and quickly strided over to you, pushing you against the wall he trapped you in a passionate kiss

Despite your anger, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, having missed him despite being separated for just under a month

You two stayed like that for a few minutes, relishing in each other's presence

When you finally came back to your senses, you shoved him away and ran

Distantly, you heard a record scratch as alastor took a moment to realize what you just did

Then he snarled, his smile growing impossibly wide as he shifted into his full demon form

You rushed through crowds of demons, a few of them snarling at you and threatening you, others catcalling

Now, despite being in hell for only a few weeks, alastor had already set a reputation as demon not to fuck with

So as you rushed through the crowds with a creepy ass deer demon chasing you, many knew not to interfere

Alastor reached out a long clawed hand, just barely brushing your arm

Panicked, you glanced back and saw alastor, looking like a fucking monster

You shrieked in terror, and out of instinct, your wings opened up and launched you into the sky

You heard alastor let out an unearthly, furious scream

You let yourself hope, for a brief moment, that you had escaped

Then the same glowing chain appeared around your neck, a d yanked you back down to the ground

You crashed into the broad chest of alastor, still in his demon form, as he whispered in your ear

"A valiant effort, my darling, but you forget. You couldn't escape me while alive, so what makes you think you can escape me now.." he growled "..now that I'm so much stronger."

"You can't escape me.. you are mine~"

He chuckled lowly at your continued struggling, watching as you finally went limp in his hold when he yanked on your chain

"Come along now, pet, it's time we went home"

The hand not holding the chain snaked around your waist, bringing you flush against his body

Everything went dark for brief moment, before the both of you appeared in front of a cabin

Your cabin

The one that you now considered a prison

You ears flattened once again, this time in despair as tears started to flow

You weren't ever going to escape now

He was much to powerful for anyone to go against

Alastor buried his face in your soft hair, nhaling deeply before walking you up to the front door, slowly turning back to normal from his demon form

"Ah, welcome home, my doe~"

Hehehehehehe

Finished another

Hot deer daddy

[darby-rowe]

18+ | nsfw | mdni academy!coriolanus snow x fem!academy!reader word count 1,375 cw piss(!!), closet sex, clothed sex, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, dom!coryo, dubcon, fingering (female receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink, descriptions of saliva, not proofread notes i've been having horrible writer's block trying to work on my snowjanus x reader fic, so naturally i decided to write a piss kink fic to hopefully resolve that [two thumbs up]

you felt as if you had no time whatsoever to take a breather. the entire day was just your nose buried deep within your books to prepare for finals, and you didn't dare to tear your eyes away in fear of forgetting crucial information. you were stressed, and worst of all, you can't remember the last time you went to use the restroom as you felt your engorged bladder causing an uncomfortable ache in your pelvis.

your massive need to relieve yourself was only made worse as your boyfriend coriolanus pulled you aside, shoving the two of you inside a vacant janitor's closet. you gasped as coriolanus began grabbing at your tits and ass, shoving his tongue into your mouth in a sloppy, hungry kiss. you heard yourself whimper pathetically into his mouth as your sexual arousal mingled with your aching bladder. a slight dread crawled its way into your chest. if coriolanus continued with what he was doing, you were sure you would never recover from the sheer embarrassment of you pissing yourself during sex

"coryo—" you tried mumbling into his lips. but he was having none of it as he turned you around and shoved your chest into the wall of the closet, raising up your long red pleated skirt above your waist so he could get a good look at your pretty panties.

"don't object," coriolanus commanded, keeping his voice reasonably low so no one passing by the closet would hear them. he carelessly shoved his two middle fingers inside your mouth and ordered you to suck on them. gargling and gagging noises emitted from your throat as he pumped his fingers deep within your mouth to get them as wet as possible. as he withdrew his fingers, you coughed and gasped for air, only for your air to seemingly get caught off as coriolanus's hand tightly clasped onto your mouth. "and don't make a sound,"

you had to admit it — this show of dominance from your boyfriend was insanely hot to you, which made your overflowing bladder ache that much more. a muffled yelp escaped your mouth as coriolanus's two middle fingers, coated in your saliva, found their way under the waistband of your panties then inside your pussy. and you then found yourself in an entrancing in-between of pleasure and pure agony.

coriolanus's fingers were fast — punishingly fast — as they fucked your tight cunt, emitting squelching sounds as they pumped in and out, in and out, in and out. you couldn't help yourself as you whimpered into the palm of coriolanus's hand, desperately grasping at the wall of the closet to find anything to hold on to. "i barely saw you all day," he panted into your ear. "too busy stressing out over final exams. could barely focus because all i could think about was your pussy. but now i finally have you, so don't ruin this for me,"

you tried to crane your neck to give coriolanus an understanding look, but the vice grip he had over your mouth kept your head locked in place looking forward. you arched your back further into his fingers, earning an approving groan from your boyfriend. for a blissful moment, you forgot about your need to piss, but your guard was soon let down as you felt him withdraw his fingers and heard the familiar sound of him pulling his pants down, feeling him pulling your panties to the side.

with a few slaps to your pussy, and an agonizingly slow intrusion of his dick, your knees gravitated towards each other as you started to feel the beginning of the end. soon, you were going to be unable to hold it in, and you were going to have no choice but to relieve yourself all over your legs and his cock. you wanted to tell him, to make him stop before you embarrassed yourself forever, but before any words were spoken, his hand was back on your mouth, silencing you once more.

"ahh, fuck yeah..." coriolanus whispered as his dick entered inside. you rolled your head back as you felt yourself become full, letting out a low groan into coriolanus's hand. "such a nice, tight pussy. so perfect for my cock,"

"oh, oh god," you whimpered as coriolanus pounded his dick deep inside you, your voice muffled. the closet was soon filled with the sounds of his pelvis smacking against your ass, gasps, pants, and muffled moans as the two of you fucked in the risky privacy of the vacant janitor's closet.

you weren't sure if it was because of how good coriolanus's cock felt inside you, your limited amount of air, or the nauseating smell of the different cleaners, but you felt yourself becoming lightheaded and dumb. you were starting to emit low groans as he fucked you nice and hard, even though the danger of pissing yourself was still prevalent. every thrust of his cock felt as if he was intentionally trying to bump into your bladder, like someone gently tapping a water balloon with a needle.

"you're being such a good girl taking my cock," he mumbled into your ear. "and you're gonna let me come inside you, right? yeah? you're gonna let me breed this pussy so you can walk around with my cum inside you, you dirty girl?"

"coryo," you tried to say, hoping he'll understand. "i'm gonna pee,"

"what was that, bunny?" coriolanus mocked, not knowing a single word you were saying due to your voice being muffled. "can't hear you when i'm trying to get you to shut the fuck up,"

your orgasm was drawing dangerously close, and the process was only expedited as coriolanus reached around and began rubbing at your clit. the anticipation was rapidly killing you. moans and mewls escaped your mouth and into the possessive hand of coriolanus.

the walls of your pussy began to contract, signaling the arrival of your climax. coriolanus kept up with his ministrations, whispering dirty words of encouragement.

"that's right, come all over this fuckin' cock," he panted, placing open-mouthed kisses all over the side of your neck. "c'mon, my naughty girl,"

your cries for mercy fell on deaf ears as the continuous pumping of his cock brought you towards your explosive orgasm, in which your pulsating pussy further agitated your bladder. and along with all of your nerves igniting on fire, a steady stream of warm liquid came gushing out of you and onto your legs, pooling onto the floor of the closet. you would be sobbing out of embarrassment if it weren't for the fact that the immediate relief of your aching bladder only added to your orgasm. you groaned heavily as your piss came flooding out of you.

your walls squeezed around coriolanus's dick, causing him to also reach his peak as you continued to piss all over yourself and his throbbing shaft. he released his hand from your mouth, and out came a string of desperate apologies.

"sorry," you whimpered. "i'm so sorry, coryo. i tried to tell you—"

"looks like you made a mess now, didn't you?" coriolanus interjected. "what? i fucked you so good that you had no choice but to piss all over yourself?" he slowly took out his cock and looked down at your messy panties, covered in piss and cum. "so dirty, and so fuckin' hot,"

you took a moment and looked down at the floor beneath you, lifting up your foot to watch your pee drip from your shoes. you closely inspected your white socks to see if any traces of yellow could be seen, but the lighting of the janitor's closet made it nearly impossible to tell.

"i made a mess," you muttered, your voice tinted with frustration. however a delay in your mind made you finally register coriolanus's words. "wait, you thought me peeing myself... was hot? why?"

coriolanus shrugged his shoulders. "why not? did it at least feel good?"

a small shiver coursed down your spine as you remembered the orgasmic relief of your bladder, and you found yourself desperately needing to feel that feeling again. "it felt really fucking good, coryo,"

"then that's all that matters, really," he gave you a gentle smile and kissed your temple. "we should really clean up, though,"

don’t be shy, let’s talk. ♡

[nhularin]

you got me looking for attention

PAIRING riki x reader GENRE highschool AU, best friends to lovers, she fell first but he fell harder type of dynamic, fluff WARNINGS none i think? not my best work LOLLL not proofread WC 0.6k ANNOUNCEMENT the nwjns series will be updated daily since i literally have nothing to do durinf summer break

❕series masterlist

September 30, 1998

"i like you, riki"

your head was rested against his forearm, with the voice of your homeroom teacher muffled in the background. there they go again niki chuckled to himself, finding your words strangely amusing

in a seemingly endless loop, you poured out your heart, to niki time and time again. at his house, on your (platonic!) walks at night and now in class. each time, he responded with a laugh, a sparkle in his eyes, and a lighthearted remark that danced in the air. with each passing moment spent together, your infatuation for him grew, intensifying the butterflies that fluttered wildly in your stomach.

at first, you found comfort in his laughter, feeling proud of yourself for being the reason of his momentary happiness.

but as the confessions persisted, doubts began to sneak in. "am I bothering him?" you wondered , guilt and doubt creeping into you.

days turned into weeks, and you found yourself growing even more weary of pouring your heart out to someone who seemed uninterested. with a heavy heart, you resolved to stop with the confessions, fearing you were only annoying niki, a playful game that he enjoyed. you longed for a connection that went beyond friendship, but jeopardizing what you both had right now is far from what you wanted

eyes wide you picked up what the hell does he want at 2 am? not that youre complaining of course, you would sacrifice your favorite snacks just to hear his voice.

"hello?"

"ah, yn" you heard him whisper from the other side, his voice deep and raspy "i didnt think you'd pick up"

"whats so important that you have to call me so late at night, mr ' i-am-an athlete-and-need-my-beauty-sleep' ?" you joked, knowing that the boy will scold you for keeping him up so late later at school

"shut up" a smiled etched on your face and light laughter tickled your ear "i know its not the best thing to do over call but its about your confessions" your heart raced. is this it? is he going to reject you like you've always dreaded?

"You know... all those times you confessed, I laughed it off not because I wasn't interested," he confessed, his voice laced with a mix of nervousness and sincerity "but because I couldn't believe someone like you could ever like me. i mean, you are you and i am me"

silence filled the air

"ah.... im sorry for calling, but i've been tossing and turning thinking about.. you. youre a real headache y'know"

your eyes widened, unable to process what niki said. your heart leaped with a mix of surprise, relief, and a newfound hope. this is it. this is it.

"youre such a jerk" you laugh playfully, the past doubt and insecurities washing away at his words "you got me looking for attention while leaving me question everything"

in that moment, nikis laughter transformed into something deeper, his confession reaching across the wall that had kept them apart.

and with a smile illuminating both of your faces, you bid your goodbyes, promising that you will talk at school the following morning and knowing that from that day forward, your laughter would ring with a newfound meaning.

two souls, once blind and in denial to each other's affections, now found comfort in the affection they shared.

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit.

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

chapter Four

You got the shoe back to the grieving mother. Helped her bury it before you got home and rested your tired eyes.

It was over. He let you leave.

But a pestering feeling told you that it wasn't true. That instead you had just painted a target on you back.

You walked to work the next morning with the same feeling. You tried to shake it. Peacekeepers would have knocked down your door last night if he ordered. He wasn't going to grab you now. It was over.

But as you saw you boss guarding the entrance to work, you knew it wasn't.

You tried to pass her anyway. maybe commander Snow had taken the Panems back off her and all she wanted from you was payback.

You reach the bottom of the steps but your boss blocks the entry to your work. Dread pools your stomach. Without this job, you and your mum don't eat.

She was only 5-foot but her fiery personality, and dark features made up for her short frame.

"I never thought you were stupid" she spat.

"I've got to get to work".

She steps forward to stop you, "You already know there's no work here for you".

"Six years I've worked for you. Never turned up late. Never took a day off. And now with a click of his fingers you wanna toss me aside? I never thought you were a coward". You snap back.

In the six years you worked for her you never rose your voice at her. Always gave in to her demands to work late, do something outside of your job description.

"Anyone not a coward to Commander Snow is dead. You're looking to end up the same way".

"Commander Snow!" you heard a voice holler from behind the door. She popped her head out to show Vanessa. She was a pretty girl with long red hair and blue eyes.

"I heard you were receiving parcels from a peacekeeper but from Commander Snow! God. I'd let that man root me for free".

"Get to work" Your boss snaps, and Vanessa disappears behind the screen doors. Her laughter following her.

Now sensing sympathy for her loyal worker, your boss takes the journey down the steps coming up beside you, and placing her hands on your shoulders.

''Can i give you a piece of advice; men love the chase but hate the catch''.

You pull back from her stunned that she would suggest such a thing to you.

"It could be worse" She continues, "Uglier men. Men who take with nothing in return. He could prove to be useful to your survival".

You shake your head no. You had never even flirted before. You were so timid, you needed someone gentle and kind for your first time. Coriolanus Snow was no such man.

Your boss nods back understanding your temperament.

"Maybe he will bore" She tries.

"He will". Your voice was shaky and unsure.

"Good luck until then". Your boss turns from you and walks back up the stairs.

You feel your chest tighten as you turn and walk home. You still had two panams that would keep the house afloat for at least two months on a stingy budget.

But you were unsure how much patience that the commander had. Could he outlast you. Would his infatuation run you dry in time. What then if not?

Your mother wage could cover the rent but not much more. You had a few candles, a few sellable things. But who would buy them for what they were worth. Had Coriolanus got the message to all the community that you were to suffer.

You move past people in the opposite direction going to work as you walked. You kept your head down ashamed until you made it to your gate.

Only the opened letterbox lifted your sprits. You reach in pulling out a thin letter with a re-attached capital seal. Your brother had always been resourceful and smart. The letter would not have even left district 8 if not for the seal.

You peel it off carefully, planning to re-attach it once you had enough money to send the letter back.

The letter itself did nothing for your confidence.

The first line demanded to know why your letter had a capital seal. He called you silly if you stole it, and stupid if you traded for it. He reprimanded you for sending the coins which he sent back. He was fine in district 8 and didn't need any help. You only had one job; look after yourself and look after mum. It seemed to him you were failing, consorting with Peacekeepers. If he was still around he would smack you until you saw sense. Stay away from Peacekeepers and look after yourself, the last line read,

I love you, Archie.

You fold the letter, keeping the coins in your hand. He always knew what to do even if he had no idea about the circumstances. You thumb the place where your ring was suppose to be, wishing you fought harder to keep it.

The door was already unlocked as you reached it and you called out surprised.

"Mum?".

You hear cries coming from her bedroom and you rush to get to her.

"Mum!" you call again.

"Bernard fired me" She sobbed on her bed. You sit on the edge and pat her back.

"Mum, I am so sorry. This is all my fault".

She doesn't deny it but places a warm hand on your knee.

"We're going to be ok. It won't last forever" You console. You were going to beat him at his own game. You could endure, you've been doing it all your life.

"Look what Archie sent" You showed her the coins in you palm. She smiles at you through her tears and you smile back.

You would endure.

He would bore.

You hold your Saturday market stall using the last of your ingredients.

You had only just started but sold four cakes already. You smile brightly at your customer passing him the brown bag. But he doesn't take it, scurrying off.

The Peacekeeper coming up explains it. He picks up a cake and expects it before throwing it to the ground. Four more peacekeepers come up, and start going through your things.

You stand still with the bag pressed to your chest. You wanted to protest but interfering with peacekeeper work was punishable by whip.

You watch as they turn violent. Throwing over your table and stomping on the baked goods. They kick at your things until they break.

You watch them as he watched you.

You hadn't realized he was there until one of the peacekeepers addressed him asking what was to be done about your money box.

His blue eyes remained on you. "Take it".

All of your days profit and your change was taken.

He stands tall in his commanders uniform, his hat upon his head, and hands in his pocket as the peacekeepers left a mess.

You stare at each other until he calls them off. There was nothing left to destroy. Their time there was now wasted.

He takes a step to you as they went back to the van through the parted audience.

You expected him to say something as he nears but his lips never parted. Instead he takes the brown bag from your hands and follows his men to the van.

You stare at your ruined things but don't cry. It was going to take more than that.

You were going to endure.

You got some work on the side doing laundry. Your clients underpaid you and you had to deliver in the dead of night, but the supplement income took the pressure off.

You had to rebuild your stall, but now that word got out that Commander Snow had it out for you everything tripled in price. No one was willing to be labeled a traitor by him for the going rate of materials.

Food was also tripled. But you didn't tell your mother that. Choosing to tell her you had a reduced appetite given the circumstances.

You had found a macadamia tree behind a row of houses to pick from. You went late afternoon to avoid being seen as you tried and fill your belly.

You stood there now. Plucking the small nuts off the large tree. You had to climb the base, already have taken the lower hanging offerings. You deshelled some, putting them in a pouch for the walk home.

You had been there for nearly an hour but your basket was only a quarter full. It would take another hour to crack all the nuts out of their shells before you could eat them to your full. Your belly ached at the thought.

"Careful you don't fall". Your foot slipped at the voice.

There was no one around to watch you pick the nuts so no one around to hear you scream.

"What did I just tell you" He scolded.

You look down from the tree to see him staring back. He had you crawling higher up but he caught your foot and tugged you gently down. As you lowered yourself he held the deseeding body part as if he was tugging down on a rope.

First your ankle, then your calf, your thigh, your hip, the your upper arm before finally resting on the side of your neck.

In his other hand he held a capital issued duffle bag, and his fingers curled around an apple.

You push off the tree away from him and he lets you.

"What do you want" You ask.

"I heard you were washing laundry" he threw the duffle bag at your feet, "I'll pay double what everyone else is paying".

"I am booked out" you lied. As the series of events escalated people were too scared to even cheat you of work. You had lost two clients just yesterday.

"a trade then" he smiles and it puts you more on edge, "an apple for 10 minutes of your time".

He holds up the apple in his hand. You eye it hungrily. It was red and large, looking juicy in his hand. But you couldn't bare the thought of spending a minute in his presence let alone 10.

"5 minutes" you try.

He smirks, brining up the apple to his teeth and taking a large bite.

"10" he resolves, chewing the apple.

He could see how hungry you were. Your eyes never leaving the apple.

You nod slowly, walking up and taking the apple from his hand. You retreat as soon as you take it, going back to your place.

"You look tired. Have you been sleeping?".

You were right the apple was juicy and delicious. He waits for your answer, not moving on.

"Hard to sleep when you're hungry". You take another bite of the apple, avoiding where he bit.

'You miss my packages" He said it as more a statement then a question. He said it pridefully as if he was proud that you were starving without him.

"Not even a little bit, Sir". it was the truth. The care packages scared you more then anything.

"I miss my job, I miss my stall".

Your answer perplexed him. His strong features locked, and his body tensed.

"Yes, well self-inflected" he dismissed.

You were finally forced to eat the side he bit and he watched with eager eyes as you did.

"Will you sit?" he gestures to the steps of the old house. There was only three of them but they were long and looked stable.

You do take a seat and he follows you.

Once seated, he places his head on your lap, laying down along the step. It causes you to jump up and he lift his head in an uncomfortable position as his cushion jumped away.

He sits back up on the step and reaches for something in his breast pocket. He pulls out a peanut chocolate candy bar. They were popular in the capital and Tigress thought he might want to try them in her care package she sent.

He had no interest but knew you would.

"Here you want this?" it was wrapped in shiny plastic, "All you have to do is sit and let me rest".

You shook the feeling off and returned to your seat. If he tried anything you could just move again.

You tear open the bar, ripping it in half and putting the remainder in your pocket for your mother.

he rests his head down and lays quietly.

"todays the anniversary of my mothers death. Both her and my sister died in child birth together".

he had wanted some condolences. Maybe for her to stoke his face and tell him to sleep.

But she scoffed at him. "last week was the anniversary of little leo lerman's pa. It will always been the day you hung him".

Little Leo Lerman's pa was a traitor to the capital, his mother was a victim of the war they started.

"I've had a long journey back from the Capital. If you can't be kind, you can be quiet".

"I thought you were away" you comment.

"I went back to the Capital for a few days. Returned this morning".

A funeral for a old academy school mate required him to return home. He had to look in touch with Capital matters. But truth being told, he never cared for the man who died. Couldn't remember even talking to him, only ever speaking over him in class when he gave the wrong answer. He was used once more to make Coriolanus look good.

He was glad to see Tigress and Grandma'am too. They both swooned over commander Snow in his uniform. It was nice to be doted over but still didn't itch the need he had. If anything it only grew it.

He longed to return to you. He had hopped that his effort were enough and he would return to you begging for his forgiveness.

Hearing you now noticing his absence gave him a renewed confidence that you would fold sooner rather than latter.

You had only noticed his absence due to the halting of your suffering. No more being stopped and searched by every peace keeper who crossed your path. The 10pm door knocking to check you were home stopped. People even began to talk to you again. You were beginning to think it was over until moments ago.

You chew on the candy, looking around to see even a shadow of a person.

"I heard a rumor while you were gone that you were a peacekeeper in district 12 before commander".

"Most Commanders are Peacekeepers first."

Your hand clutched the railing ready to pull yourself up. But first your gnawing question had to be answered.

"And that while you were a peacekeeper you ran about with a girl named Lucy-grey". His eyes shoot open upon her name. dead and still ruining his life.

"Expect Lucy-grey went missing, and no one's heard from her since".

He sits up and leans against his knees, "It's just a rumor".

You jump back to your feet now the weight of him was off you. Getting as much distance as you can. He reaction confirmed it for you.

"I don't want to disappear" you admit, your eyes tearing up. Your family would never recover. Especially your brother.

He gets up with you, closing the space you created and taking your face into his hands despite your struggle against him.

"And you won't, okay. I never even knew Lucy-grey".

He was going to find whoever told you about her and string them up.

He could see the panic in your eyes, and he wanted to stamp it out.

"It's just a district rumor" he consoles.

The look in his eyes told you the truth.

"No it ain't".

You pull free from him, grabbing you basket as he stood frozen.

"i owe you an apple". You try and move past him, unable to spend any more time in his presence but he grabs your arm and flings you back into the macadamia tree.

You gasp as you make impact. It was a beautiful sound to Coriolanus's ears. He would have enjoyed it if he hadn't been so angry.

"Who do you think you are walking away from me?" his hands reach your throat applying pressure. It wasn't enough to cut your air supply completely off but it was enough to make it difficult to breathe.

You struggle underneath him, trying to push him off.

"I am Commander Snow, you are district scum. You think i am going to let district scum treat me this way?"

His hold tightens as he shakes you a little bit.

"Are you mad? bringing up lucy-grey. mocking the death of my mother."

this was not his sweet girl that plagued his mind.

"Get off me!" you scream at him with all the breath you had left.

His hand comes down. One-two-three times across your face. Tears fill your eyes from the stinging sensation but he doesn't relent.

This was the man who ruled district 12. He wouldn't have to make you disappear he could just leave your body were it laid.

Your hand reaches out, touching his neck and it stilled him from his rage.

"Stop" you beg, "I am sorry. I didn't mean to".

You feel his fingers loosen from your neck, and you take gasps of air while you can.

"I am sorry" you say again and his hands rest on your collar bone rather then your neck.

He lifts one hand up stoking your cheek,

"That bruise will never heal if you keep this up".

"I know". You wrap your hands around his wrist. He seems receptive to your touch.

Keeping his hands on your collar bone he rests his forehead on you.

You needed to get away from him. His temper flared so quickly, you were sure to make a mistake that would lead to his hands reaching for your neck again.

If codling kept him kind then you were going to lay it on thick until you were back to safety.

You rub his back like he was a child, while your other arm laid across his shoulders.

He presses further into you, moving his hands so there wrapped around your waist.

It looked like a lovers embrace but you felt like a mouse in the mouth of a snake.

Commander Snow was a mummy's boy, you learnt. It seemed logical that he was trying to replace the hole she left.

"Can you walk me home?" you ask. The walk home was nearly 15 minutes but you knew of you tried to leave without him again, his anger would flare back up.

You feel his nose rubbing your skin as he nods but he doesn't move.

"come on" You urge pushing against him. He straightens, heaving off you and picking up the basket you dropped and the duffle bag he threw.

He held out his hand to you, and you take it without hesitation.

You walk behind the houses to avoid being seen together. He leads and you trail slowly behind him.

Your eyes drop with tears from the pain of your cheek. He only notices when you snuffle.

It halts him in his tracks. He turns to you, wiggling his hand free and wiping away your tears.

"Hey, I am not angry anymore" he consoles.

You nod your head, taking his hand back in yours and coaxing him forward again. You were almost home. Just a few more meters.

Night had just begin to overtake the sky as you saw your house come into view. You let go of Coriolanus hand and press yourself against a neighbors house as man covered in coal returns from work.

You had expected that he would leave you at the gate but he continues past it, staying just behind you as you reach the steps of your house.

"Thank you for walking me home, Commander". You reach for your basket but he keeps it out of your grip.

"I'll bring it in side for you".

You freeze at his words. The last thing you want is for him to enter your home were he would be given free reign to do what he wanted behind closed doors. At least out in the open you had a chance of a good Samaritan coming to your aid.

But you couldn't tell him that.

You nod instead. Unlocking your door you turn to him.

"Could you check the mail for me?"

His hand touches your elbow as he turns, "Of course".

You wait for him to open the empty mail box at the end of your house before you rush inside. Locking the door behind you. You double check the windows on the side, ensuring they are well secured.

He heard the door slam and turned back up the drive. He tries the door nob to see it locked. If he was upset he didn't show it, keeping his face emotionless.

He walks to the window where you stood, eyeing you through the glass.

"vanessa lives by the lake. House 1-02" He begins to eat the de-shelled macadamias that you planned to have for dinner.

"she's very pretty and less troublesome then me. You'll like her".

He smiles a tight smile, no longer looking at you he turns, tipping your basket as he walks back to the gate. You would pick the nuts up later for dinner.

You felt as if you won watching him walk away. You bested him today.

But he didn't want Vanessa, he wanted you.

No one was willing to have their clothes washed by you. He must have figured out your clients, and scared them into submission.

With the loss of income, you were forced to use your savings that were fleeting fast with the rising prices.

The macadamia tree was no more. He had cut it down to a stump the next day. You only had a small basket left to last you.

Your mother was depressed by the isolation of the community. She rarely left the house, unable to beg for a job any longer.

You tired to lift her spirt by using the last of your flour to make her a small cupcake. You surprised her with it after dinner.

She hadn't even taken a bite before the sound of a van pulling up was heard. You both froze waiting for what was next.

Peacekeepers knocked down the door, coming in full force in a single file.

One grabs you and pushes you against the wall while the others tear apart your house. You feel his hands upon you as he searches for valuables upon your body.

Your mother is subjected to the same treatment by another.

A tight hold on your neck kept you from turning but you could hear the house being turned over. Crashing sounds could be heard from every direction. Smashes from things being broken, sounds of cheering as they found something valuable.

One had taken your mums silver necklace that was gifted by your dad just before he died. She had beg the Peacekeeper to leave it but you knew their orders were to reek havoc.

Breaking up the sound of looting was a drill. You could see out of the corner of your eye that a peacekeeper was taking your door.

You yelled but it was drowned out by the sound.

Once it was off its hinges, the peacekeepers released you and your mum, beginning to return to their truck with the door and your valuables.

You rush to your bedroom, falling to your knees seeing that the loose floor board panels that you hid your savings under was opened.

You and your mum were officially destitute.

The open door way let the cold air and bugs in. You had put up a old blanket but it did little.

It also didn't offer you any protection from unwanted visitors.

Coriolanus walked right past the blanket into your home. You shoot up from the table. Standing in front of the hallway to block him from going any further into your home.

"what are you doing here"

"I came to see if you had changed your mind about apologizing. I thought coming to the compound might have been a little scary for you".

He takes a step forward coming across to you. His head turns as he examines the damage his peacekeepers did.

"i want my door back" you demanded.

"I want my apology". He continues to you

"an apology for what? look at my house". He backs you into the wall

"an apology for treating me so cruelly".

"get out" you demanded.

"Are you sure you want to do this? It doesn't have to be this way".

"get out of my house" you repeat.

He places a hand on the wall next to you, leaning in. You feel his hand on caressing your cheek.

"you showed me the other day what a sweet girl you can be. Must i wring it from you?".

You think about shouting for your mother. She took to lying down in her bed to starve off the cold. But you worried for her safety if you did.

His stoking hand stopped, bracing itself against the side of your face.

He leans his head closer, his lips brushing yours. You knew what was coming next, and tried to move your head out of the line of attack.

He takes a stronger hold on your chin to keep you in place, and kisses you with the same hunger as the night against the wall.

He comes back for more before he had fully pull apart his lips from yours.

'Commander Snow". Your mother voice broke his kiss, and he turns to see her in the living room.

"Ma'am" he greets.

He doesn't move from you, unashamed as your mother glares down at him.

"What an honor it is to have you in our home" She pulls out a chair at the kitchen table for him. One of three that didn't break. "Can i offer you some water".

"No thank you, Ma'am. I just came to check on your daughter".

"As you can see, she's fine. Thank you, Sir". Your mother walks to the door way, holding up the blanket, " If anything changes I will be sure to let you know. So there's no need to come back down. We would hate to keep you from your important duties".

Commander Snow scoffs at the women. She was a bad influence on you.

He turns back to you and places a quick, deep kiss on your lips before following his directions to the door.

"No trouble at all. I'll be back to ensure the safety of you both" he pins your mother under his stare as he spoke, "District 12 is a dangerous place".

"Good night, Commander" your mother voice wavers.

"Ma'am" he nods in her direction and disappears behind the sheet.

Your mother rushes to you once he goes, pulling you into her arms. You were too frozen to hug back.

You knew your mother was going to pay for her interference.

But as peacekeepers invaded your house once more and dragged her down the road. You had no idea what awaited her.

You shout at them to get off her. Hitting and pulling the Peacekeeper that had her.

People come out from their houses at the noise. Watching as the women is pulled to the town center with her daughter carrying on behind her.

You feel arms secure you to a chest and you turn expecting to see Coriolanus giving you an out only to find a faceless peacekeeper.

You beg him to let your mother go but he continues silently, pushing you along.

You watch as they lock her on the whipping post.

"Commander Snow" you yell out for the only man who could stop this but he was no where to be found, "Commander Snow".

You scream as the whip came down upon your mother.

The cries of your mother will forever be engrained in your brain. You stood helpless as you watched her be whipped unconscious. Only then was she unlocked from the post and the peacekeepers moved the crowd on.

You rushed to her as the Peacekeeper released you. You cradled her head in your lap. it was you who should have been whipped. You wished you could have taken it for her. But he knew the only way to hurt you was to hurt the people you loved.

Your friend, Lydia saw the ordeal and helped you get your mother back to the house. You didn't have anything that could help her. The best you could do was clean the blood with water which caused her to wake from the pain and put her to bed.

"it's my fault, Lydia" you cry reaching out to hold her but she retreats from you.

"I am so sorry. I can't be seen with you". she rushes back to the entry way, "I shouldn't have even helped with your mother".

You fall to your knees as you watch her leave. You were utterly alone.

Your mother is bed ridden from the pain. Unable to eat or sleep. Two nights later, you receive a letter from him. In it was two small bottles of morphling.

I have what you need. Come see me

-C

The note read.

You rush to your mother giving her the small bottle. It worked instantly to relieve her pain. You stroke her head as she sleeps.

You remember what your boss has said; men love the chase but hate the catch.

Perhaps if you let him take what he wanted it would mark the end of this torture. You wouldn't be the first women to loose your virginity to a peacekeeper. the consequences weren't worth the effort in keeping it.

Your pride lumped itself in your throat, and you forced yourself to swallow it.

The next morning you gave your mother her breakfast and second dose of morphling before rushing over to your bosses house. You knew she was the only one who would see you.

She doesn't allow you in but greets you on the front porch.

"Have you come to your senses?" she asks.

"He whipped my mother"

"I heard. What do you plan to do about it?".

"The only thing I can" your voice was low and soft but she heard you.

"What do you need?"

"Two cups of sugar and a cup of flour".

She goes back inside and returns with your request. You could feel her neighbors staring out at you from their windows.

She comes down to the steps to where you stood and you take the whole pouches of ingredients.

"Thank you", Your boss was not known for being generous.

"When he is done, come round and i'll pour you a drink".

You nod your head unable to form a thought.

"Oh and Y/N, relax. It will hurt less the less you fight it".

She offers a comforting hand on your back, but you shake it off quickly to return home.

You make a batch of brownies with the ingredients.

You give a small patch to your mother and box the rest up in your basket.

You had showered and prepared yourself. Putting on your nicest dress, a soft blue one that ties into a bow in middle of your back. You borrow your mother worn black high heels, and brush your hair a hundred times.

You feel your pride bubble back in your throat as you reach the compound. You have to push it back down to give the guarding peacekeeper your name.

He repeats it into his communicator and the gate swings open.

You follow the guard to the well known building to see Coriolanus waiting at the bottom step.

He dismisses the Peacekeeper as he takes your basket from you and places a hand on your back.

"Thank you for seeing me, Commander". You talk to him as he leads you to his office.

"I was going to visit tonight. Is everything ok?"

You stare at him. He was so detached from his actions.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior".

You reach his large oak doors, which he opens for you.

"i am glad to hear it" he follows you in.

"Are these for me?" he asks looking through your basket.

"yes'' you answer.

He pulls out one of the chairs for you to sit in, choosing to lean against the desk as he eats the brownie.

"These are good" he praises, taking another bite.

"I used the macadamias".

He reaches into the basket and offers you one. You decline it.

"I don't think i could ever eat another one. It took a hundred just to keep me semi full".

He nods in understanding, putting it back. He leans forward over you as he speaks.

"one time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach".

"that must have been awful".

he feels his heart lurch at her words. Finally sympathy. How he longed for it. For someone to care about his suffering.

But he tried to remain nonchalant. Not wanting her to think he was weak.

He shrugs his shoulders, "it was a long time ago".

He brushes his hand together, clasping them shut on his lap.

"So your apology. Lets hear it".

You thought you already had done it with the brownies but he wanted you to grovel some more.

That pesky pride bounces in your chest. But no, you wouldn't let it interfere. Your mother needed the morphling not only for the pain relief but to warn off infection.

"Commander Snow I-"

"Coriolanus" He interrupts.

"Coriolanus" you start again, "I don't know what came over me".

You don't look him in the eyes, keeping your eyes on his shiny shoes. You can't. But you can feel him looking at you.

"My actions are not reflective of the respect I hold for the capital".

The flex of his shoe tells you that he was unpleased with you apology.

"Or you". Yes, the shoe pointed back down. He wanted the focus on him.

"If you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I would never repeat my actions again. You would have my undivided loyalty for your kindness".

He stands up going to his desk chair and folding his hands on top. You eyes rise to watch him. You half expect him to pick up the phone and call a peacekeeper in.

"If you are after my forgiveness you have it. But if you are after my services there are no longer free".

You press your legs together and repeat your mantra; men love the chase but hate the catch.

It was time to be caught. You rise from your chair to stand in front of him. He angles his chair to face you. His legs brush against yours.

"My mother needs morphling". Would it be hint enough.

It seemed to be as he places his hand on your hip.

"And what do you need?". He tugs you down with his hold on your hip and you land awkwardly between his legs. You hold yourself up on the arm of his chair.

"Morphling," you answer. You face was inches away from his. The closest you've ever been without his hands wrapped around your neck.

"Maybe to not have to eat macadamias again?"

His smile throws you off guard. You find yourself dazzled by his straight white teeth poking out behind his plump lips.

"A new dress perhaps?". His hand goes to its favorite place on the side of your face and you can feel his thumb moving back and forth.

"Morphling" you repeat and it earns a laugh from him.

He loved that your needs came second to everyone else's. To his.

"Okay, morphling," he laughs, "What are you willing to trade for morphling? It's not easy to come by".

"Anything". This was it. You would loose you virgnity on the floor of the Commanders office for a case of morphling.

"hm" he muses. He picks up your right hand from the arm of the chair and wraps it around his neck. It throws you off balance.

"How about dinner?". You look at him. Maybe the floor didn't suit a man of his stature. Too animalistic.

"Where?". Did he want to go to a backroom of the hob?

"Your place".

"Tonight?". You had nothing to cook.

"Tomorrow". You still doubted your ability to find something. You doubt your boss would extend her kindness anymore, and all your friends had deserted you until it all blew over.

"do you like macadamias?". You think you still had a handful left. Did it matter. He wasn't truly coming to eat.

"They taste like paste in my mouth", he leans forward and presses a button asking someone to bring in the box.

"I'll be there around 6:30. Keep your mother in the backroom. I don't think she likes me very much".

"She can't even get out of bed" you admit.

He reaches into his draw, pulling out two small bottles of morphling.

"These won't help that but will ease the pain".

You take them fast. "Thank you".

"They aren't free. You owe me".

You jump as you hear the door open. Getting off him, just in time for a women in grey to enter with a small box. Coriolanus remains in a relaxed position in his chair.

"Commander" she greets as she places the box on the table and walks away. You peer into the box to see a small lot of vegetables, a bag of apples, two pears and a small bundle of meat wrapped up in parchment.

"For dinner tomorrow night".

He gets up from his chair taking the box with him, and directs you to the door with a hand on your shoulder.

"Now as much as I have loved seeing you. I have to get to a meeting, and you have to get home".

He leads you back through the building and down the steps to were peacekeepers were loading up into their van for night patrolling.

You buck against him as he pushes you to the van. You felt safer making your own way home.

They salute him, halting their process.

"14 Cherry lane", he nods in your direction. A young peacekeeper nods back.

He places the box on the floor of the van so he had two hands to lift you up. You protest telling him you could get home yourself but you were grabbed by a series of hands and placed on the bench

The men stood, hanging on to the material of the roof to avoid sitting down next to you. You felt safer at least knowing that they were too sacred of Coriolanus to touch you.

The leader of the group, dressed in smarter uniform comes to Coriolanus and confirms it will be done with a salute. Coriolanus pays him no mind, handing the box back up to you.

Two Peacekeepers lock the gate in and the van takes off. Coriolanus watches it go, and you watch him get smaller and smaller as you pass the boundary out of the compound.

The van ride is bumpy and silent. The men look out for protentional danger and you look out for familiar landmarks to track how far you were off.

You see a large red sign that marks the beginning of your neighborhood.

"wait, just here, please" the sound of the van would have the neighborhood looking out the window, and after tonight the judgemental looks of your negibours would be too much to bear.

The driver pulls over and the same peacekeepers unlock the gate for you. As soon as you jump out the van takes back off and your grateful for the darkness that covers you.

You walk back in your uncomfortable high heals. They snag every rock as you walk, and your ankle twists so many times you loose count.

Tomorrow night he would come, and it would all be over.

The next morning Peacekeepers come and reinstall your door. It was a welcomes surprised that earnt a few head nods from your community. It was a mark of the end. Things were returning to normal.

The new door even allowed you to trade the two pears for some pastry and 2 eggs. People were no longer afraid to do business with you.

You spend the rest of the day baking an apple pie for desert, tending to your mother who could now eat and bathe without pain, and tiding up the house for your visitor tonight.

You hopped he would bring more morphling. Your mother woke screaming in pain as a bird entered the house without the door and landed on her back. You had to give her the second bottle to ease her. But it left her dry for tonight.

Extra food would be nice too. The box only really fed a meal for two, and he had expected you to prepare dinner for him tonight with it.

You had thought about feeding your mother first and leaving a plate for him. But knew it would upset him. Dinner involved two people eating together. Instead you would only take small bites until he finished his meal and give the rest to you mother once he leaves.

You wouldn't be able to eat much with the anxiety in your belly anyway. But you assured yourself it would be fine.

He would come and take. And tomorrow morning you would go to work, and then your mothers work to earn both wages. With that and a tightened budget you could afford black market morphling, until that too was just a bad memory.

5 o'clock comes and you busy yourself with cooking and cleaning. When that was finished you dressed yourself back in your best dress and mothers shoes. Your feet cried as the shoes pressed down on the sores they made.

You stare at the clock until it hits 6:30. he didn't appear out of thin air. You wait at the table still.

It hits 6:31 and you think maybe he changed his mind. But a hard knock at the door tells you he hadn't.

You don't keep him waiting. he was an impatient man, and you also didn't want people to see him on your porch.

You yank open the door to see him standing tall in his official uniform and another small box in his hands. His smell hit you instantly. It was fresh and masculine. It was the first time you didn't hold your breathe around him, and his smell invades your nose.

Checking behind him for a peacekeeper van, you found none. Did he walk here, you wondered. But there wasn't a drop of sweat on him. It was unlikely.

"Hello" He greets.

You step back to let him in. He juggles the box in one hand while the other closes the door behind him.

'Hi" you return half-heartedly.

He offers you the box and you take it to the kitchen. He follows you like a lost dog, never allowing more then an inch between you as you walk.

'Dinner's ready. If you're hungry". You look through the box digging for the morphling, but disappointment fills you as you fail to find it.

"Starving" he responds.

He turns you towards him by your hips and smashes his lips down upon yours. he is a needy kisser, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth to stop you from moving before returning to your top lip to restart the kiss.

He pulls way breathless.

'For the morphling, yesterday" He justifies with a peck to your cheek.

What about the morphling, today, you wanted to ask but you weren't sure how he would respond to the question.

Instead you tell him to take a seat at the table and you would bring it out to him.

He sits as he is told. You set two places across from each other. One with their back to the wall leaving the other to face back from the door. Coriolanus takes a seat at the one facing the door. It allowed him to watch you in the kitchen as you plate the food.

He drags the other place mat across the table and seats it next to his. Traditional face to face dinning would not do tonight.

You come over with the plates, noticing the new arrangement. You go with it. Tonight would be about what he wanted.

"It smells amazing. Thank you". He praises.

You smile a tight smile at him. Unable to form words. Your mother would wake soon in a great deal of pain.

he watches you take small bites of your food while he demolishes his.

Your feet ache under the table, the shoes pressing hard into you. You slip the backs off, letting your heels rest on top.

The air carried a awkward silence. He was eating his food while eyeing you. You could tell he was trying to figure out why you chose to spend ten minutes eating a single potato. He knew how hungry you must be.

You needed to keep him focused on himself.

"I didn't hear a van. Did you walk?". You ask. You push your food to the side to make it look like there was an empty space on your plate.

"I parked it in the woods behind. I heard you asked to be dropped off before your stop last night. Figured you didn't want the attention".

"Thank you" you say earnestly.

"You know" he places some stake into his mouth, "people are going to know about us. Most already do".

Us. There was no us. It was commander Snow and a district girl. Entirely separate.

"you're my girl. People should know it".

Your eyes shoot up to his. No. he was going to catch and release.

"the people here-" you start.

"If some one gives you a hard time, you write their name on a piece of paper for me".

You would never do that. You felt your anger flare up and you stomp it down. The door was closed and your mother was injured. No one would come to your aid if you did something stupid.

"Okay?" He presses.

You nod your head in tune to your mothers crying.

Your head snaps back to the bedroom, and then back to Snow.

he made no offer of morphling, as he ate. You wondered how he could stomach it hearing another person cry out.

"Commander Snow".

You were going to ask, saying no wasn't the worse thing he could do but you were desperate.

"Coriolanus. You can call me Coriolanus in private". He wipes his mouth from his dinner with a handkerchief.

You couldn't call him Coriolanus. It was too familiar. So you just continued your sentence.

"I am very grateful for the food that you brought".

Your sentence filled his eyes with light.

"But" they darken at your ongoing, "I was wondering about the morphling that was promised".

"You think you deserve morphling? I told you favor has to be earnt".

Your mother cries out again, calling out for you.

"How would I earn morphling?" here it was his proposition.

"You could try being nicer to me".

You hands ball in frustration. Just say what you want, you begged, You couldn't be the one to offer it.

"I will. I will be nicer, but could I have the morphling now and then we can go to my bedroom?".

"Why would we do that?"

"Please!" you grunt, lunching onto his arm.

"You think I want to fuck you?".

You mother screams for you to come to her and you dig your nails into his uniform.

'You don't?" what the hell was this all for.

"Not until I get back to the Capital".

You lurch up, holding out you hand.

"Coriolanus please"

"who's to say I brought it?".

You knew he did.

''You're welcome to check". He grins, holding out his arms for a pat down.

A sob from your mother had your hands roaming his uniform. Pressing over his arms, and chest for small pockets that he could hide them in.

You pressed against nothing but soft flesh. You go to his uniform belt that was tight around his waist, checking the small compartments built in. He had taken off his hand gun but his handcuffs were still linked over his belt.

He takes hold of the back of your neck tugging you closer so he could brush his teeth against your throat. He kissed and bit as he pleases while you continued to search.

You shake you head at him, trying to keep you throat from his mouth but his hold tightens, going up to your hair.

You pat along his torso. The Commander peacekeeper uniform was intricate there could be a secret compartment anywhere.

When you get to his pant pocket you feel the shape of the small bottle. You dig into his pocket and he catches your wrist.

You tug back but don't make it far. You beg him to release you. You had found the bottle. You had won.

Your mother calls out for you again and he does release you. Letting you go to her.

You run down the hallway to her bedroom. falling to your knees beside her and uncapping the bottle.

"here" you bring it up to her lips but she doesn't take it.

"is he here" .The darkness of the room covers bites on your neck but she still eyes them like she can see them.

"No, mama. No one is here. Drink".

You tilt the bottle to her lips and she sucks it down hungrily. Her eyes droop as she rests her head back on her pillow. You stoke her hair until they close fully.

You couldn't let you emotions get the better of you. You just had to grin and bare it until he leaves. But now he has left you confused. He told you he didn't want to sleep with you until he's back in the Capital.

You thought you knew what tonight was going to hold but now everything is up in the air. Still, at least you knew he had plans to return to the Capital. You wouldn't have to endure him forever.

He could continue the morphling supply. That would save you having to consort with rebels. If you could avoid making him mad.

With your mother asleep you return to the living room where Coriolanus had started to eat your mothers dinner. If she won out in your attention, she lost out on dinner.

You clear you throat, "Thank you".

He looked pissed in his chair, and you were eager to return him to a good mood.

You clear the empty dinner plates from the table,

"Would you like some desert? I baked apple pie just for you".

He liked being center of attention and you would give him special treatment tonight.

He notices your pained walk to the kitchen. The way your knee slightly buckled as you put weight on your left foot. When you reached for the powered sugar in the top shelf, your foot rose from the heal and he could see the redness from where it rubbed.

You pat the sugar on top of the slice of the apple pie and bring it back over to him at a slow pace.

You place it in front of him. You didn't cut a piece for yourself, your throat hurt from bites.

Still he looked unhappy and you worried as he pushed the bowl away from him, and took you into his arm.

With his chair scraped back he positioned you in front of him, shoving you into a sitting position on top of the table.

His hands trailed down to your shoes, and he took them off, rubbing your sore heals. He knew what it was like to wear shoes that were too small.

He sat rubbing your sore feet, you slightly pull away as his strong hands dug into separated skin.

"What about your desert?" You asked. You had planned to try and send him on his way as soon as he ate it.

You strong finger latched themselves around your ankle and threw it over his shoulder. His other hand pushed your dress up around your hips.

You push his shoulders back as his head came between you thighs.

"you said you wouldn't" you squabble.

"I said I wouldn't fuck you. I didn't say we couldn't do other fun things".

His fingers find their way to your panties and he pulls them off, pocketing them.

"Lay down" he demanded, "i have some more morphling if you're good".

You lay flat against your dinner table and squeeze your eyes shut.

he takes both your knees and hooks them over his broad shoulder, pulling you closer to his mouth.

Your body jolts as he lays his lips across your center. Sucking as if it were a juicy stone fruit. You could feel your own wetness and you felt ashamed. But as your boss had said, there were uglier men out there.

As his first lick lands your hand shot out to his head. If he still had his curls you would have grabbed them but you clutched at air.

He laps and sucks hungrily as you wiggle beneath him. You bite back soft moans. This had never been done to you before, and you had no idea you could feel so good.

You could feel him as he spelt out his name with his tongue. C-the O had your hips bucking-R-I- another hard O and a sound crawled its way from your throat- L-A-N-U- he sucked as he finished the S.

You felt his teeth graze your pearl, giving you a second of pain before he went down and started to poke at your entrance.

He was slow and lazy as he ate you out, keeping your thighs in a strong hold. It felt your stomach form knots as he went up and down. Never letting you fully build from one spot.

You could hear him slurping and moaning as he worked. You tried your best to keep quiet. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing it felt good.

But as you came undone, the orgasm that ripples through you demanded to be known. You hand claws at your own face unsure of what to do while the other clamped down on Coriolanus hand on your thighs.

He added his thumb from his spare hand to your pearl and massaged you through your organism. The over stimulation was too much and you kicked at him to release you.

"Just feel it" he ordered.

You did and it left you spent on table.

"Good girl. You took it well". He tugged you down from the table to the floor beneath him where you sunk.

He undid he belt and you guessed it was his turn.

"Hold out your tongue". You did as he asked poking out your tongue to him.

He freed himself just enough to release his throbbing cock. It stood upright begging for attention. You thought it was going to look scarier, but it could have been your own arousal that soften the member.

He grips your chin, pulling down so your mouth was open as he slowly stokes himself over you.

"Kiss it" he challenged.

You press a soft kiss to his tip and he shudders. Was this all it took for the great commander Snow to crumble.

"Take it" he breathed, "Just the tip".

You take just the first part into your mouth, and he reaches down for your hand. You give it to him and he places it around his cock. He moves your hand for you back and forth.

"Get off" he barks but keeps his hand pressed tightly around yours. You take his mouth off him, and watch as he pumps himself with your hand.

You watch him with his head thrown back and eyes closed. You could see his quick breathes passing through his tummy.

He looks down, seemingly irritated by you, he grabs your hair and yanks it back.

"Open" was the only word he could get out.

You resume your position of sticking your tongue out with your mouth open and he goes back to his state of pleasure.

"That's it, baby" he moans, "like that. Yeah".

His hand over yours quickens and you can see him clutching the arm of the chair.

"Fuck, baby" he says as his milk spills out of him.

The salty taste hits your tongue making you instantly close your mouth. It goes all over the floor and your best dress. Your mothers terrible shoes were safe through.

With his claw still in the back of your head, he maneuvers you out of the way as he bends down and scoops some of his cum off the floor.

He pushes it back into your mouth, through your teeth.

"taste me, baby".

He lets you get up after his fingers are clean. You both straighten out your dress wear. He kicks your chair out for you and you take it. Slumping into it, feeling sick.

He reaches for his pie, taking a bite. He groans in appreciation of its taste. Digging his spoon back for more, he lift it to you.

You stare at him dazed before you eat from his spoon, wanting nothing more then to get the taste of him out of your mouth.

He leaves later on with a kiss goodnight and two more bottles of morphling. Enough to last you until tomorrow night. Where you expected to see him and earn some more.

--------

taglist; @namelesslosers @urfavnoirette

[tojisbbg]

𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚

❝and i know that i've been the worst, but i love you better.❞  

♡ toji fushiguro ♡

a/n: need him to fill all of my holes asap! 🥰 also, two posts in one day?!

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

content: ex!toji fushiguro x fem!reader, age gap!! (reader is 23 and toji is 31), smutty smut (lolol), not edited.

---

it's the middle of december, the air was crispy cold outside and despite begging your landlord to put the heater on blast in your apartment; your king-sized bed always felt like an ice plate.

of course, the size of the bed was intended to be shared with another human being. your boyfriend— well, now ex-boyfriend; toji. however, the breakup between you both was sudden, ending a little bit before thanksgiving.

this was the first time in three years that you've gone back to your parent's house for the holidays without toji. it was dreadful, having to distance yourself from nosy relatives who were bombarding you with questions about where your boyfriend was.

not having the energy or heart within you to explain the whole story, you gave them the excuse that he was working on thanksgiving. it was the most believable excuse you could come up with, as your boyfriend was quite much older than you, by eight years to be precise.

of course, your parents were strictly against your relationship at first, but, just as how toji was able to charm himself into your heart, it didn't take much longer until your parents would give in and melt. toji was mature, charming and he knew how to handle you.

you both loved to spend the holidays together, not to mention that his birthday overlapped during new years. now, you're only looking forward to forgetting the vast memories of him, which continue to haunt you this rough winter season.

you were trying to find the perfect position to fall asleep in, but, your room was so cold that it made it hard for you to concentrate on sleep. it was snowing outside, and the landlord clearly didn't give a single flying fuck about your comfort.

after a few minutes of fighting with yourself, you finally could feel your eyes grow heavy with sleep. it wouldn't be long until you could hear your bedroom door crack open, eyebrows pinching in confusion.

you couldn't tell if you were hallucinating or almost about to get kidnapped or murdered in the comforts of your own house.

your heart began to thump in your chest, feeling scared minute by minute as you could hear the heavy footsteps of the figure approach your bed. you regretted everything, you wanted toji by your side to protect you from whatever monster stood in front of your body, to hold you tight in his arms to keep you warm like every year because he knew that you get cold easily.

you missed toji.

suddenly, the blanket tucked under your back and butt got lifted before there was a dip in the bed behind you. a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist, followed by the familiar scent of the cologne and body wash that is engraved into your brain.

"toji?" you mustered up the courage to call out the name you prayed to god for. he shoved his face in the crook of your neck, and just by feeling the rough skin of his lip scar on your flesh, you knew that it was him.

"it's just me, i'm here." he mumbled into your skin before pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder.

"why are you here?" you sighed, not even bothering to tell him to stop his ministrations of kissing your nape and rubbing his hands on your hips.

"had a feeling that you were cold." toji answered in a gruff voice before yawning.

"you know we can't-"

"go to sleep, y/n. we'll talk about it tomorrow." he cut you off before scooping your body closer to his. if it weren't for the fact that this was by far the warmest you've felt in your own bed within these past two weeks, maybe you would've screamed at him before kicking him out.

---

you were grateful to whoever proposed the idea that college student should get long breaks for christmas. it was still pretty early in the morning, maybe around six in the morning? you were warm and tucked away into toji's chest the entire night as you both peacefully slumbered.

you stirred awake when you felt disconnected from his touch, forcing an eye open to see that toji turned to face the other way; leaving you could and abandoned. you whined in annoyance, scooting over to him as you tugged on his shirt. toji, who was snoring in deep sleep, groaned from the gentle shakes.

"hm?" he hummed, eyes still closed, but he was half-awake now.

"cold." you briefly said, making him let out a deep sigh.

"come here." toji replied with a groggy voice as he opened his arms to invite you into his embrace once again. you snuggled closer to him as he hugged you tight.

yet, it seemed like that wasn't enough.

you kept fidgeting in his arms, continuing to either tighten your hold on his large and beefy figure and rolling more into him until you finally rolled on top of him. you were literally holding onto him like a koala.

"jesus, i'm not going anywhere, you brat." toji groaned, feeling your weight on his body. you sat up, now straddling his waist, letting out an annoyed huff. toji decided to watch you pout through his half-lidded eyes.

suddenly, you began to take off your shirt and the hello kitty printed pajama pants you wore, roughly throwing them on them floor. toji's eyes widened as you were now sitting on top of him, half-naked.

you gave him a small glare before pointing at his t-shirt and sweats.

"off. now." you demanded, getting off of toji as you watched him sit up with his bed messy hair. he obliged to your command, not finding the energy to argue back with you or ask any questions this early in the morning.

the man just wanted to go back to sleep.

so, toji did as you said, taking off all his clothes until he was left only in his boxers. you took a minute to soak in the sight of his godly sculpted body as he slipped back into the covers.

without any hesitation, you threw yourself on top of him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. it took everything in you to not moan out in bliss as the skin to skin touch between you two immediately transmitted his body warmth to you.

toji's body was perfect for hugging during any season, especially winter time. he was like a giant and beefy teddy bear to cuddle with, his body being a natural furnace.

without thinking, you rubbed your body onto his, unknowingly grinding on his crotch. toji's breath hitched, feeling his cock harden even more than before when he saw your half-naked glory after two weeks.

"feels so warm, toji." you mumbled, pressing yourself into him as your face was buried into the crook of his neck. toji ran his fingers on the back of your thighs, while his other hand rested on top of your ass.

"yeah? i could make you feel even warmer." he smirked, bucking his hips a little up to make you feel his erection. you gasped, feeling his cock throb below your pussy, the thin fabric of your panties and his boxers not providing much of a barrier.

"t-toji.." you stammered, cheeks growing warmer against the flesh of his chest. his skin smelled like bare vanilla with a mix of cologne, it was almost intoxicating.

"shh... let me please you, sweetheart." toji softly whispered, a strong arm curling against your waist while he turned to his side, gently laying you on the bed. you were now facing the wall with toji behind you, his hands sneaking up back before unclasping your bra.

with one swift motion, your bra joined the rest of the heap of clothes scattered on the floor. toji's hand found its way to your tits, groping them as you let out a whimper.

"haven't seen these pretty tits in so long. can i give them a little kiss, darling?" he sweetly asked, your mind fogged up with nothing but the thought of toji. nonetheless, you nodded your head as you leaned a little back.

toji lifted his head before leaning forwards to give each of your nipples a kiss. the contact of his soft lips and your sensitive hard buds was enough to drive you off the edge. but, knowing toji, he's one playful man.

without a warning, he latched his mouth onto your tits. his warm tongue swirled around your swollen bud as he suckled on your nipple.

"mhmm... toji." you moaned, your hands stroking his hair as he sucked and kissed the flesh of your tits until it left purplish hickeys on your skin.

with one final kiss on the valley between your tits, he went back to his original position. toji relaxed behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist. he noticed how you were trying to discretely rub your thighs together to create some kind of friction that would grant you the relief your aching pussy needed.

"need something, y/n?" toji teased, but you were too stubborn to give in. toji's fingers were freely roaming all over your body, from dancing on your spine to rubbing your hips and ass.

"n-no." you stammered, desperately wishing for him to plunge his fingers or cock inside your cunt right now. toji's fingers played with the waistband of your panties.

"hm? you sure? seems like you need something... or rather, this sweet little pussy of yours need something from me, no?" he spoke in a husky voice, the tips of his fingers gently rubbing your pussy on top of your panties. your breath hitched, feeling him press on your clothed clit before tracing the outline of your slit. there was a visible wet patch created from your slick, making toji smirk.

"so wet for me. you missed me, didn't you?" toji asked, but you were too focused on his movements. the lack of response made him a little upset, so he gently pinched the plush flesh of your thigh to get your attention.

"oww!" you winced in pain, looking over your shoulder to throw him a glare.

"i asked you a question, baby. don't ya know it's rude to not answer your boyfriend?" he snickered, making you roll your eyes at his justification.

"ex-boyfriend." you corrected him, making him scoff.

"oh, is that so? so you'd let your ex-boyfriend play with this pretty pussy of yours, hm? slut yourself out for him? talk to me, sweetheart." toji's hand slipped inside your panties, his middle finger sinking into your wet folds. your eyes rolled back as he rubbed your sopping wet pussy at a pleasurable pace, the words in your throat getting stuck.

"f-fuck." you moaned out, feeling toji draw circles on your throbbing clit. you swallowed harshly, as toji began to rub your clit at a pretty fast pace before slowing down and sliding his fingers down to your pulsating hole.

toji shoved two of his fingers inside without a warning, making a whimper escape your lips. he was unforgiving, scissoring his long and thick digits in and out of your hole at a cruel rhythm; stretching your hole.

"nghh~ feels so good!" you panted like a bitch in heat, feeling the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. toji felt your walls clamping on his fingers, a small smirk etching on his lips as he added onto your pleasure by rubbing your clit with his thumb.

your eyes rolled back, shutting your thighs around his wrists as a shaky hand came down to halt his movements.

"t-too much." you squealed, vision becoming blurry as you couldn't even form coherent sentences.

"you could take it, baby." toji encouraged, prying your legs open with his free hand as he gave you the most jaw dropping orgasm just from simple foreplay.

you saw white, creaming on his fingers as you let out a guttural moan.

"that's it, there you go, pretty." he cooed, helping your calm down from your orgasm as you tried to snap back into reality.

"holy shit." you breathed out, now laying on your back as you turned your head to face toji and look at him through half-lidded eyes.

you took note of the details that were already carved inside your brain of the man who owned your heart and soul. his beautiful ebony locks that always seemed dishevealed yet so soft to your touch; smelling like your shampoo because he's too lazy to get his own. his sharp grey eyes that always tease you. the supple fat of his cheek that he swore he'd get rid off but always rethinks his decision every time you pinch or bite them. his plump lips that kiss you stupid even if they're a little chapped sometimes because he's a little forgetful.

and of course, your favorite feature, the scar on the corner of his lip that you love to kiss because it's unique to him.

this was the man that you were so madly in love with, toji fushiguro. you fought wars to be with him, to get approval from your strict family, because he was an older man. but, not once have you ever regretted your decision.

to which, you were now thinking, was the reason that caused you both to break up even worth it?

"missed you." a shy glimmer graced your eyes as you mumbled those two words, catching toji's attention. he gave you a boyish smile, grazing his thumb along your bottom lip.

"yeah?" toji huskily chuckled, making you nod as you lifted yourself up before climbing on top of him. your disheaveled hair curtained his face as you leaned down to finally press your lips on him. the kiss was needy and messy, feeling toji push your head further towards him, his tongue sucking and biting your bottom lip.

you let out a whimper, opening your mouth to grant the wet muscle permission to explore the caverns of your mouth. you unintentionally began to grind your hips on his hard bulge, the wet patch on your cotton panties now dampening the front of his boxers.

toji let out a gruff groan, his hand going down to caress the supple fatty flesh of your ass before giving it a small spank, making you jolt.

you gave a tender kiss on the side of his mouth where his scar was before kissing along the outline of his sharp jaw. your wet kisses moved down to his neck as you sucked purplish bruises on his skin, all while he was groping your ass and thighs.

your mouth was practically drooling at the thought of having your boyfri— ex-boyfriend's cock inside your mouth again. you eagerly tugged down his boxers, his hard dick springing out and slapping his lower stomach.

toji was so incredibly manly, his body was gorgeous; as if the greek gods themselves scultped him. it was no use of denying the fact that you loved beefy men who could crush you in seconds with their body weight. toji was fit, his pecs were defined yet so soft; his toned abs and muscular biceps— don't forget those killer thighs and back muscles as well.

the cute happy trail leading down to the monsterous rod in his pants, which you clearly missed so dearly. you watched how his cock throbbed, the two twin veins that ran on the side of his shaft were a little swollen and his tip was red and angry from neglect; drooling with his sticky precum.

you wrapped your fingers around his cock, stroking it slowly before thumbing his tip, spreading the bead of his precum as toji groaned.

his thumb came down to brush against your lips before intruding to part them. he bit his lips, the pads of his finger feeling the wet muscle in your mouth. you licked a stripe up his shaft, starting from the base until the tip.

"fuck you're so pretty, sweetheart." a grunt left his lips, and before you knew it, the mushroom head of his cock was right in front of your lips. he rubbed the tip on your lips, the wet feeling of his precum smearing on them. you slightly opening your mouth, slowly licking the tip as you got a taste of him.

you wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking on it like candy before deepthroating as much of his cock as your mouth could take. it was almost impossible to suck and fuck the entire length of toji's dick because he was a good eight inches at least.

but, nonetheless, you tried your best to take as much in and let your hands do what was left out.

not giving you much time, toji grabbed the sides of your head before slamming his hips up into your mouth as his patience was running thin, making you gag. it seemed that all the self-control that he maintained so well all this time has completely vanished by now.

his moves were animalistic, starved and desparate.

toji began to thrust into your mouth, feeling the flesh of your cheek welcome his cock. your tongue dragged up and down his shaft, sucking in the shear length of his cock whenever he was forcing it down your throat. the twin veins grazing against the walls of your throat and against the surface of your tongue.

"you're gonna feel me exactly here." he commented with a smirk, his hand coming to your neck to slightly squeeze the area he was speaking about. he grabbed your hand before placing it on that place, then he took a hold of both sides of your cheeks.

with one long and deep thrust, he kept his word and you felt the bulge on your throat where his cock was lodged in. tears welled in your eyes, your throat burned both from the friction of his dick and the lack of oxygen.

but toji just wanted to see how long you'd last before tapping out. of course, he has no intention in killing you, but he wants to test your limits.

he continued to rut his hips, drool trickling down his cock as you choked and gagged, trying so hard to control those reflexes. but to toji, it felt like heaven because every time the muscles in your mouth and throat contracted, it hugged his cock in such a welcoming way.

"so close." he moaned out, eyes rolling back as his dick twitched inside the wet hole of your mouth that he ruthlessly fucked. you tried to breath through your nose, but it was getting a little difficult.

you felt the rush of warm liquid fill your mouth before sliding down your throat, opening your screwed shut eyes to glance up at toji. on the other hand, his eyes were closed tightly, breathing becoming erratic as he groaned in pleasure.

you tapped his thighs aggresively, wanting him to pull out before you lose your senses. he listened, taking his cock out of your mouth as you sat on your knees completely breathless. you coughed a couple of times, holding your throat as you rubbed it from the aching pain you felt.

your eyes were red and cheeks were stained with the tears that stained your rosy cheeks, eyelashes wet from it as well. you lifted your head to face him, seeing how flushed his face was as sweat coated his forehead. your eyes trailed south, seeing his cock dripping with your saliva and his cum.

"fucking asshole, you almost killed me." you said in between your breaths, glaring at him and he chuckled. leaning closer to your trembling body as he sat up, toji gently kissed your earlobe, making you shudder.

"had to make sure my little princess wasn't going around sucking other people's dick. i trained your throat pretty well, huh? but now i gotta check if this little cunt of yours has been loyal too." toji snickered, turning your body around in the position of reverse cowgirl.

you yelped once you felt him hook his forearms on the back of your knees, before pushing it up until it was besides your chest. your legs were now spread wide open as toji put you in a full nelson, his cock rubbing between your wet folds, nudging your clit as some points.

"put it in, baby." toji encouraged, pressing soft kisses to your temple. your hand went down to grab the shaft of his cock, giving it a few pumps before rubbing it on your sopping wet pussy to lubricate it. as his tip got caught in your hole, you gently and slowly began to enter the inches of his monster cock.

"ngh~ fuck, it's so big." you winced in pain, forgetting how painful the stretch of toji's cock was. it didn't matter how many times he fucked you dumb on his dick, your pussy would always be too tight for his thick meat.

"but you took it like a good girl, didn't you?" he praised, planting his feet on the bed before thrusting up into you. you moaned loudly, feeling his cock rubbing your wet walls so deliciously. the squealching sound of your pussy was pornographic.

"this pussy is mine— fuck, none of those stupid college boys could ever fuck you like i could. you're mine and only mine." toji moaned, his thrusts getting faster as his balls smacked against your ass, your hand coming down to rub your clit.

"hnghh, only yours. please! ahh~ feels so good." you were delirious, eyes rolling back from pleasure as you began to see white. your thighs were shaking as toji's thrusts began to get sloppy.

his cock twitched inside your hole, a ring of white cream already forming at the base of his dick from how much your pussy leaked on him, coating his balls in a shear white gloss.

the sticky shlick shlick sound echoed through the four walls of your shared room. tears pricked your eyes as you could feel the huge wave of your orgasm coming at you as your stomach began to tighten.

toji could sense that you're getting close, your walls clamping down on him as the tip of his dick kissed your cervix with each thrust. you turned your head to side, catching his lips in a messy and saliva filled kiss.

you both moaned into each other's mouth, cries of pleasure leaving your lips as you gushed on his cock.

"f-fuck, it's too much!" you mewled, feeling overstimulated as toji fucked you thrugh your orgasm.

"you could take it, gonna breed this pussy. maybe i'll fuck a baby into you, yeah?" toji panted and you were so cock drunk that you mindlessly nodded your head.

"yes, yes, please— fuck, give me a baby." you whimpered, and your voice was so sultry that toji came so hard inside your cunt. the thick and sticky ropes of his cum coated your walls as you shuddered from the warm feeling of being filled up with his cum.

his cock slid out, your hole being creampied to the brim as both of your cum began to gush out of your cunt. you rolled off of him, now laying besides toji as you both tried to catch your breath.

"i love you, y/n." toji confessed, turning his head to the side to look at you. that soft and lovesick expression painted on his flushed face made your heart jump.

you gave him a gentle smile, scooting closer to him before wrapping your arms and legs around him, pressing a tender kiss on his lips.

"i love you too, toji. i'm sorry for everything, i was just so angry and frustrated because it felt like forever that we've spent time together. i-i.... i got insecure and thought that you found someone better than me." your face dropped in sadness, a lump forming in your throat as you tried your best to not break into tears. toji frowned upon hearing your words before stroking your cheek.

"and why the hell would you ever think that?" he questioned and you shrugged.

"i know i'm a little immature sometimes, but i really do love you. i just don't want you to get tired of me and find a woman your age who's more mature. you know how badly people talked about us before and still do." you sighed, making toji scoff.

"fuck those people, you're mine and i'm yours. no one could ever change that, got that princess? those few weeks i got a little busy because i was working long hours to book a flight to venice for us to spend christmas together." toji smiled, making your eyes widen in shock.

"no way." you gasped, but he grinned and nodded his head, making you squeal in excitement.

"we leave next week." he informed, pressing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. you hummed in response and hugged him tight.

"ugh, i missed my teddy bear so much... spent so many lonely nights sleeping alone." you complained, and toji rubbed your back in a comforting manner.

"my poor baby, how could i make it up to you?" he cooed.

"let me put my hello kitty stickers on your dick." you gave him a cheeky smile, making him narrow his eyes.

"naughty girl." toji snickered, his hand going down in a sly manner to grab his cock and without warning, he entered it inside your already swollen hole once again.

your breath hitched, feeling your boyfriend latch his mouth onto your nipple.

"my pretty princess." he mumbled, giving you a small wink before licking your nipple playfully.

toji couldn't wait to give you your surprise in venice, the small box resting nicely in his coat pocket.

---

BONUS:

"tojiiiii~ toji! look!!" you ran from the hotel bathroom to the bed where your fiance laid down. his sharp grey eyes peered up at you in curiosity as you showed him your phone, the diamond on your ring finger shimmering under the hotel lighting.

"what am i looking at?" toji cocked an eyebrow, watching a girl having her face squished by a guy's bicep.

"i want you to do that to me." you gave him an innocent look, and toji smirked at your request. he laid his arm flat on the bed and ushered you to rest your face.

you did so and as toji flexed his arm, your cheeks got squished and forced your lips into a pout. toji chuckled at the adorable sight of you and leaned his head down to press a tender kiss on your pouted lips.

"gonna marry you and make you mine forever."