#if this feels out of character I am sorry simply LOOK AWAY
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wisteriagoesvroom · 9 months ago
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gax + corporate/law vibes + ‘The powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.’
gax?? gax!!
power (you make some points): a gax ficlet
rated m, ~1.2k words now also readable on ao3
author babble:
bear in mind i wrote this before i knew more about the Gax Lore i.e. karting together, actually being nice to each other blablabla. you could also just retrofit the vibes and hopefully they still work. anyways!
will throw this up on ao3 when i’m not sitting bleary eyed in an airport
————
If there was one thing that Max Verstappen wouldn’t tolerate, it was George Russell having the monopoly on good PowerPoint presentations. Max had won all four years of debate in College, as well as the dubious title of “most radical deployment of Google Slides templates” at his MBA, and he was not about to be usurped by the other guy in his department who actually knew how to use an animate transition.
“You missed an indent there.” Max says, pointing at the monitor. Yellow and red lights wink at them from the outside, as if to say: you’re both in your mid-twenties, quit wasting it on a computer screen at 11pm on a Wednesday, maybe?
Max is not staring, very determined not to look at his teammate’s facial expression. But George is almost certainly rolling his eyes right now.
“Was coming back to that, alright?” George huffs back. Max is very professional most of the time. But something about how wound up George is, how insanely pedantic he is about everything from semicolons to coffee cup placement for the Directors to taking insanely detailed minutes that nobody except Max reads after the meetings – well. What is it that Nietschze once said? We hate in others what we most identify with about ourselves. Or was that from Twitter? Max does not really use Twitter except to look at Bloomberg News updates and cat videos, so he does not know. And anyway Nietzsche never made a six figure salary.
“It would just be easier if you would let me do it.” Max says.
“Fuck right off, mate.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like me to.”
“Not now.”
“Just share the link to this. I’ll do it.”
“We agreed to take turns on this.”
“Yes, Russell. But sometimes, the rules are meant to be bent.”
George swivels his chair to Max, then. Fully attempts to pin him with his gaze, commencing an awkward stare-off that lasts way too many seconds and makes Max once again realise that George’s eyes remind him of the expensive fish tank he saw at the Partners’ sushi dinner once. Max doesn’t think those same fish were the ones they ended up eating. But he does remember that dinner because it was the one where the Partners had dangled the promise of a huge promotion if they could help carry the company merger across the line successfully. The problem is, there was only one spot.
George’s distracting aquatic orbitals aside, fortunately, Max (i) never backs down, and (ii) has been told that he has the dead-eyed emotional stare of a robot missing an empathy software upgrade sometimes.
And clearly, the powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.
Max leans back in his chair, stance all mock-relaxed. “Do you want to be out of here before midnight, or not?”
“We’re expensing the Ubers either way, so it doesn’t make a difference to me, mate.”
Fine. If George is so hyperfocused on The Tasks that he’s forgotten the fun part of being Questionably Close Coworkers, so be it.
Max deploys the nuclear option.
He sticks his leg out, nudging the toe of his Pradas onto George’s slacks. And strokes his foot halfway up to a sensitive point on George’s thigh. Max may even flutter his lashes a little.
To his credit, George does not react. Merely swings his eyes like a lamp to Max’s face again. His hand does, however, goes still on the mouse.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“I don’t know.” Max feigns. He knows that George hates, more than anything, anyone getting dirt on his precious Ralph Laurens. But at least he has his attention now. “Was hoping we could move onto the more fun part of the typical evening activities. Maybe.”
“We shouldn’t be doing that again anyway.”
“George.”
“What?”
“That is not what you said the last, hm, fourteen times that we have done this, eh?”
“Who’s counting?”
“I thought you were the most careful of rule followers and data analysis, knapperd.”
George is a human being, but Max is almost certain the other man shakes himself like he’s preening right now.
“Well. It’s what the team likes me for, and it’s what I’ll keep doing.”
“Oh yes. Surely we must keep in mind the team. And the shareholders. They are very important.”
“Quite.”
“But should we tell them that you like it so much, George. When I do this.” Max says. Rising up, fully crowding George in, hands gripping the cool handles of the computer chair. Leaning in to nibble the side of George’s neck.
George swallows. Max watches his throat move.
Next, Max mouths the words onto the side of George’s jaw, stubble prickling his mouth. “And this.”
The click of the mouse continues steadily as Max moves his mouth to the shell of George’s ear. “And let’s not forget. This.”
Max tilts George’s face up fully, then. George’s face is flushed, eyes sparkling, all surprise at the sudden change of pace, but eager, too.
When Max seals his lips over George’s, George groans, and his hands shoot up to Max’s waist immediately. It doesn’t feel quite like winning a deal or a pitch does for Max, but the completion comes pretty damn close.
Max sweeps his tongue into George’s mouth. George opens willingly, like he always does. In the back of Max’s logical brain, a warning sign blares that the computer chair may not be able to support the weight of them both – because they spend a lot of time pretending they don’t work out together at the gym but Max knows exactly what George’s deadlift PB is and it’s pretty damn high for a scrawny looking dude.
And despite the keening protest of said chair, the two of them are both lost to it now. Max jams one knee between George’s legs, George nibbles hungrily at Max’s lower lip, Max thrusts his hips all needy, and maybe if Max is nice about it George might suck him off under the table, and–
Outlook chimes again.
“Blasted piece of shit.” George says, breaking away. His hands go still at Max’s waist. “Why we’re using G-Suite and Microsoft Office at the same time I will never know.”
George squeezes his eyes shut, as if making himself stop this is causing him physical pain. Maybe it’s that or the workflow incompatibility when George tries to move his custom Excel-Trello gantts into a third party API.
And Max won’t lie. He kind of likes it when George gets so irritated about these things. When he cares a bit too much. Because what is Max but exactly like that, too.
“Hazards of a merger, I guess. But without that, I would never have met you, no?”
George makes a noise like he knows what Max means. The other man straightens his shirt collar, and Max runs a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, because George had made a passing comment at the bathroom sink once about it looking good.
Sleeping with the person competing for the same Chief of Staff position is possibly the worst decision he could’ve made, and Max once dyed his hair platinum blonde. But, they’re stuck here together. Hell is a slightly more tolerable place when Satan’s right hand man looks this good. And knows his coffee order without asking.
Besides. Max is not bothered. He knows that the promotion is his. This is just a minor plot inconvenience.
Later, they will expense the uber back to George’s place, where Max will put his mouth on George’s arse, and give him a practical demonstration of the three different ways he’s learned to elicit pleasure from the male prostate.
George will whimper and whine the whole way through it, and after they’re both sated, they’ll both roll over to check their emails, barely concealing their smiles. They will pretend that what’s happening between them could be as clean as their zero-email inboxes. As if their connection is not violently seeping through containment.
All in the name of team bonding. For the firm. Yes.
(Or this is what they tell themselves, to maintain the illusion, anyway.)
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zhongrin · 11 months ago
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festered wounds
— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.
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© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’
✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.
ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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“i’m sorry.”
zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.
“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.
“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”
“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”
zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.
belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.
zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.
“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”
“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”
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“a-are you sure you want me?”
out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.
“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”
“oh….”
“….”
“….”
you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.
“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”
you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.
and it angered him.
but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.
funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.
“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”
“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”
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“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”
wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—
he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.
“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”
he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…
“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”
“then is your own head telling you that?”
“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.
he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.
he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.
“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”
the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.
he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.
“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”
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✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months ago
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we never talk about it ☆ op81
genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader
word count: 11k
It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.
inspired by this !
cherry here!... based on real events.
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Do you remember the day we first met?
The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 
You always have.
“A little bit. Yeah.”
He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.
Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."
-
It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.
His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.
But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.
“You’re drooling.”
Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”
His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”
He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”
But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.
Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”
“Am I interrupting?” 
Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 
“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”
A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”
“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”
“How do you know?”
You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 
“Just a wild hypothesis.”
Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 
Zak grins. “You three.”
“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 
“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.
“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”
“Oh, you Judas—”
“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.
With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 
With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 
He’s just becoming— too real. 
“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”
“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 
“Likewise.”
Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”
“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.
“Fantastic.”
A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”
“Nice to meet you—”
“Nice to meet you—”
You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 
“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”
In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.
-
“He fucks with you.”
“Excuse me?”
Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”
You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.
It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.
You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 
-
The start of the season is always tough. 
“He’s extremely nervous.”
For some more than others.
You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”
Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”
“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”
“Ana—”
“Please.”
You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”
As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—
“Come in.”
He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”
“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”
Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”
“What?” A beat. “No.”
He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”
You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 
“You’re going to do g—”
“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”
“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”
“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”
“It doesn’t do it for you?”
His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.
“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”
You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”
Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”
It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.
The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”
“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”
A timid smile. “I know…”
He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.
This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.
-
“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 
You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”
“Yes! Ten—got it.”
He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 
You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 
Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 
It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 
How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?
Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 
Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 
You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.
Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”
Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”
You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”
Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”
Will perks up. “Her?”
The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 
“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.
Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”
Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”
And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”
The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 
The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”
Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”
The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 
A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 
“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”
-
“Is everything okay?”
Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”
Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”
The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 
“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”
A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”
“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 
The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 
Woah, are you feeling alright? 
“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 
Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”
“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 
A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”
He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”
A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”
With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”
You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”
Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”
Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”
The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 
As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.
“That bad?”
“That annoying.”
And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”
“Yes.”
He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”
Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”
Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”
“You know how?”
“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”
The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 
“Just…close your eyes.”
Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 
It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 
“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 
As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 
Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”
You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 
Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 
Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”
Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”
She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”
Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”
-
Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 
“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 
He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 
A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”
“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”
You scoff. “How are you so sure?”
He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”
“Funnest is not a word.”
“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”
“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”
Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 
“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”
“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”
You sneer, already walking away.
He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 
You’re still sober?
Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 
Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”
“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”
“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”
“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.
Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 
“Stupid, stupid boys—”
“Hey.”
You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 
Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”
“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”
Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”
“It’s a family heirloom.”
“A glass bowl?”
You giggle. “I wonder why too.”
Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 
You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”
He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”
Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”
“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”
You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”
The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”
You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”
His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”
“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”
He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”
You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”
He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”
A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”
“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”
Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 
Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 
“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 
“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 
You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”
Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 
“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”
“I’m not his girlfriend—”
“She’s not my girlfriend—”
Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”
“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 
“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”
Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”
“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”
“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”
“You used to be fun.”
“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”
“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”
“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 
Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 
“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 
“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 
A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 
You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”
“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”
You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”
She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”
“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 
“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”
“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”
Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 
The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 
You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 
As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 
Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”
Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 
She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.
“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”
He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”
You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”
He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”
-
It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 
You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 
It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 
The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 
“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”
Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 
The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”
That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 
A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”
The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”
Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”
He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”
Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”
He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”
Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”
The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”
You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”
He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”
“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”
Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”
It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 
“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”
He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”
Your breath catches. “Os—”
All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 
“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 
You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”
A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”
A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”
Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 
“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”
The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 
“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”
You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”
“What about now?”
You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”
He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”
Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”
The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”
“I wasn’t pondering.”
“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”
“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 
“I’m in love with this boy.”
He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”
You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”
He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”
The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”
A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”
Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”
Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”
Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”
Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”
A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”
His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”
A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”
“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”
By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Lennon gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   
“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”
-
That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 
But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 
You what? 
A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”
“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”
Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”
“My dignity? A good friend?”
Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”
You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”
“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”
“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 
“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”
Your breath hitches.
And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 
-
Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 
“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”
“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 
She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”
“Definitely.”
At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”
He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.
“Thinking?”
You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”
And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 
And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 
“Do you know what song this is?”
Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?
“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”
The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”
“Oh yeah.”
The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”
Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 
He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”
And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 
“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”
You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 
“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.
“I mean it.” 
Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 
You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 
His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 
“You’ve always been my dre—”
“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.
“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”
You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”
He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”
Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.
And let’s face it. 
It was never going to be you.
-
You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 
It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 
Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.
But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 
Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 
The kind that lets you know—
You’ve lost.
His arms are tied around her waist, his head nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 
Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 
She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 
Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 
It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 
But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”
But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.
“You’re here!”
All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.
“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”
She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”
You blush. “No. Even better.”
“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”
“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”
“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”
Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 
The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”
Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!
At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.
“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”
Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 
You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”
“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”
His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”
Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”
“You are?”
Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”
He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”
“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”
Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”
Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”
“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”
“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”
His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”
It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”
Leaves rustle. “You were?”
“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”
The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”
“That I loved you too.”
He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 
“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”
“A little bit. Yeah.”
A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 
And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”
“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”
-
Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 
“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”
“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”
He frowns. “I know that, but—”
“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”
Lando hums. “Understood.”
Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”
A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 
Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”
“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 
Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”
“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 
“I really hope nothing changes between us.”
You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”
The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.
By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.
“I love you, okay?”
You smile. “I love you, too.”
Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.
Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”
“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”
“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 
“What about me?” 
She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”
Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.
“No. But I once got very close.”
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deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months ago
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— i believe in a thing called love
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SUMMARY : dean thinks you’re playing a game but he slowly realises you’re not. 
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), unprotected piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, edging, praise kink?, horniness 
WORD COUNT : 4.2k
A/N : title from a song by the darkness. this fills the square amnesia for my @jacklesversebingo card.  I’m sorry yall, I like cliffhangers 😔 (but there’s a part two coming, yay!)
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You don’t remember ever waking up to a more warm and pleasant morning.
Usually, you woke up after sleeping however many hours you could have, and always felt like it wasn’t enough. Your eyes burned with sleepiness, your body felt heavy with fatigue, and your mind was clouded with the darkness of unconsciousness.
Not this morning.
You felt light and warm, like the vapour of your too-hot shower. Your bed was soft and your sheets smelled of sweet and flowery fabric softener. 
You opened your eyes to a room blanketed in complete darkness. There was not a window in sight for sunlight to slither into and your stomach sank slightly when you realised that you didn’t know where you were. Or how you got to where you were now.
Your nakedness beneath soft, thin sheets made you feel vulnerable. You pulled the sheets up your body and started to get out of bed, only for the sheets to catch on something. No, on someone. A man who groaned gravelly and slightly tugged the sheets away from you.
Your eyes widened, your blood went cold with fear, and your body became hot with adrenaline. You froze as you thought of what to do and looked around to see if you could make any shapes while the darkness smothered you. 
“Come back to bed, sweetheart,” he pleaded lazily, his voice thick with sleep making your skin prickle. He gave the blanket a lazy tug to encourage you, but you ignored him. You didn’t know him, the audacity. You simply released the blanket and blindly made your way around the room for clothes that you must have left somewhere. 
You heard him sigh tiredly, the blankets rustled when he shifted, and the room lit up with the quiet click of a lamp’s switch and you yelped when you saw him, equally naked, in the bed. He sat up in alarm and looked around, before just staring at you in confusion.
His hair was a mess and he looked tired… but hot. His arms were thick and strong. His shoulders were broad and a familiar tattoo rested above his heart, beneath his collarbone. He wasn’t ripped like someone who was obsessed with going to the gym and dieting. He was so damn fine. The thin blankets came lower down his hips when he sat up inquisitively. His stomach became taut and you could see the faint lines of his abs. At least you slept with someone hot and not some creep. Well… he could still be a creep.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” He moved the blankets from his hips, subsequently flashing you his dick, when he began to get up and make his way to you.
“No, stop!” You shouted, covering your eyes before deciding to cover yourself instead. He instantly obeyed and froze on the spot, bewildered. “Cover your eyes,” you demanded exasperatedly.
“What? Why?” He asked, but he still covered his eyes with his hand. But who could blame you for quickly stealing a glance at his very pretty cock? “Did you start your period? You’re not due for another two weeks.” You blinked at him, astonished and disoriented.
“Uhhh, what? How do you even know that, dude?” You flushed with embarrassment.
“Dude?” He lowered his hand to give you an irritated look. The only reason you didn’t shout at him to look away was that he wasn’t staring at you like you were a piece of cake. “It’s way too early for jokes.” He shook his head at you and turned around to sift through the tall dresser behind him. Your eyes hesitantly dropped to his perky ass and you forced yourself to look away before he turned to you.
Forgive me. I am just human.
“Where’s my damned clothes?” You asked, leaning forward over the bed to drag the blanket towards yourself to cover up. He turned with a deadpan expression while he slipped his boxers up to his hips. But when you lifted your brows expectantly, he rolled his eyes at you and smiled sarcastically, flourishing his arms in front of the dresser.
He was kind enough to pull out a black shirt that looked like it was his, then pink women's underwear, and finally some colourfully striped socks. He handed them to you, but you backed away.
“No, I’m not wearing that,” you refused, looking disgustedly at the cotton underwear and the small socks. 
“It’s yours,” he told you flatly.
“What do you mean it’s mine?” 
He blinked at you boredly and dropped the clothes on the bed to cross his arms across his very sexy broad chest. “Alright. How long are you gonna keep this up?”
“I… uh, what?” 
He smiled slowly and climbed up on the bed to get closer to you. Once he did, he reached for your waist and tugged you forward. Your heart thudded heavily in your chest and you clutched the blanket closer to your breasts. Even standing on his knees in the bed, he was taller than you. 
“What game are you playin’ at, hmm?” He asked seductively, gently squeezing your side. Your lips parted slightly and your heart raced. 
You studied his face, captivated by his beauty. The crinkles at the corner of his verdant eyes called to you when he smiled down at you. You could see he was doing the same. His eyes followed a path along your face until they landed on your lips. You couldn’t help following the same path on his own with your eyes. After letting your eyes drift across the curve of his freckled nose, the line of his jaw, and the attractive stubble, your eyes fell to his pillowy lips.
His hand moved to your jaw. He looked playful and your heart sped up the longer he admired you. His calloused hand gently slid up your jawline to tangle his fingers in your hair until finally, he dipped down and kissed you. His lips felt soft against your slightly-chapped lips, but he didn’t seem to mind. 
His mouth moved lazily, yet expertly over yours. Your stomach fluttered and your breath hitched. As simple as it was, it felt amazing. His lips on yours sent waves of need and excitement through your body, electrifying your skin. 
He clouded your mind with his kiss and your mouth slowly fell open. He cupped the back of your head in his hand and tilted his head, slowly becoming more firm and needy. Your hand released the sheet from your body and your hands found their way into his soft brown hair. He hummed lowly in appreciation and splayed his free hand across the bare skin of your back.
He carefully removed his hand from your hair, then you felt his hands move to the back of your thighs. He broke the kiss momentarily, his breath against your swollen lips made you dizzy as he hoisted you up. You clung to him, dazed and aroused, and he carefully dropped you into the bed again.
His knees parted your legs. You could feel your arousal dripping down as you were exposed to the room’s cool air. He almost instantly pressed his hips to your wet core. You could feel the warmth of his hard cock against your pulsing clit. You moaned softly and he gave you a charming smile that heated your cheeks in response. 
He leaned down to kiss you again. This time, his tongue pushed past your lips. The warmth and wetness of his saliva moved against your tongue. He did it as if he’d done a thousand times to you—shamelessly, with craving. 
His lips moved passionately, firmly against yours. His tongue brushed over yours needily, lovingly. He tasted you with hunger and pulled away with heavy breaths, ignoring the string of spit connecting your lips to his. 
He leaned forward again, except this time—when you closed your eyes—you felt his lips brush against your cheeks. His warm breath tickled your neck and ear, so shivers trickled through your body. 
You squirmed beneath him and wiggled your hips longingly.
“I’m gonna make you come so hard on my tongue, baby,” he whispered. You cursed softly. Your cunt clenched with excitement at the thought of him doing to your pussy, what he’d done to your mouth. You almost didn’t feel him press wet kisses down your neck until he sucked gently at your pulse.
He moved down your body slowly. Used his teeth, tongue, and lips on your flesh to hold you in his spell. He did it so precisely, fanning the embers to create a fire of desire that overwhelmed your body with lust. 
His lips brushed against your nipple and your heart lurched. Heat pooled between your legs, followed by a warm wetness that you somehow knew would boost his ego. 
“Tell me what you’re thinkin’,” he whispered against your breast before gently sinking his teeth around your nipple. His fingers pinched the other. How he expected you to respond was unclear as he teased your sensitive skin with his expert tongue and strummed at your flesh like a professional guitarist. 
“How did I end up here?” You replied quietly, carding your fingers through his short hair. He chuckled softly at your response, moved on from one breast to the other. His saliva on your abandoned nipple enhanced the coldness of the room, causing your skin to tingle. 
His laugh was a whole other thing. Hot and deep. Everything about him seemed to be that way. Hot and deep.
His hand sneaked down to your ribs, your stomach, and stayed there. Warm, heavy, huge, and calloused. One hell of a man. You bet he could choke you with one hand. 
You moaned softly at the thought and squeezed his sides with your thighs in attempts to alleviate your desire. It was futile, but you had a feeling that’s how he wanted you. He smirked against your breast, you could feel the stretch of a smile on his sinful lips, and he finally moved on.
“You’re so desperate today, aren’t ya?” Amusement seeped into his voice, but there was nothing amusing about the way his hand finally moved between your legs. He slid his middle finger through your folds, slowly teasing your clit with ghostly touches. “Always so wet, baby, fuck,” he moaned against your hipbone. 
“Please,” you whined, clutching his hair tighter. He sucked a lavender mark on your hips and slid his lips down to your pelvis.
“Yeah?” He teased with a smirk. You loosened your grip on his hair, just slightly. His green eyes sparkled up at you, but all you could really focus on was his finger turning to two fingers that quickly dipped into your entrance to gather your excessive slick. “Fuck.” Oh, God. No one should sound so hot saying that word, but your stomach seemed to flip excitedly when it sounded so pleased. “Look at that, sweetheart. You’re soaked, it’s gonna be so easy for me to fuck you.”
“Jesus Christ,” you whispered, your toes curled with excitement. 
He parted your folds with his fingers and lowered himself to level his mouth with your dripping cunt. His warm breath on your wet heat made you squirm and your legs shamelessly opened wider for him. The Pied Piper of sex.  
His eyes fluttered shut when he kissed your clit. You don’t think anyone’s ever done that to you before. To be fair, you can’t remember much and you don’t know if it’s because of his intoxicating sensuality or because of something much more serious. Quite frankly, you didn’t care as he continued to kiss you down to your clenching entrance with hums of appreciation vibrating through your desperate core.
“Please,” you laughed breathily, weakly attempting to pull his face closer between your legs. He perked up even more at that, and flicked his tongue against your clit, perfectly striking a nerve like a chord that resonated through your entire body and made you quiver. 
He flattened his tongue from your aching pussy to your clit, slowly and loudly savouring the taste of your arousal on his tongue. He did it over and over before settling for lapping at your entrance where your arousal puddled. His moans were husky and praising.
You gently weaved your fingers through his hair and panted heavily. His nose nudged at your pulsing clit and his tongue pushed into your fluttering pussy. 
“Fuck, please,” you whimpered, tightening your grip on the hair at the top of his head. He hummed against your core and roughly licked his way up to your clit. Quick flicks of his tongue on your clit made you writhe with pleasure. Curses slipped from your lips and all you could think about was the sensation of how wet your pussy was with his spit and how close to coming you were again.
You felt one of his fingers slowly push inside your cunt. He worked you open carefully with one thick finger plunged deep inside you and simultaneously began to suck on your clit. Your body became tense; you were right on the edge of your orgasm, but he moved away from your aching cunt to quickly kiss his way up your flushed body, to reach your lips. 
“I wanna come,” you pleaded quietly, staring profoundly into his greedy eyes. 
He chuckled playfully at you and slowly pushed a second finger inside you. His breath fanned over your lips and you traced the slick of your pussy on his smug mouth with your eyes. He stroked your walls slowly, skilfully pressing the pads of his fingers into the sensitive depths of your cunt. You clamped down in desperation for him to press over and over into your g-spot, but he wasn’t merciful. He wanted you to feel the length of his fingers moving deeply inside you. 
“Say my name,” he murmured against your lips. You squeezed his hips with your knees as you squirmed restlessly. Again, he made you delirious with pleasure after a request so you could do anything but properly think. He angled his fingers into that delicious spot inside you, but the buildup of your climax was as torturously slow as the stroke of his fingers. 
“Your name?” You gasped mindlessly, closing your eyes to focus on feeling him being in all the right places. His lips brushed against yours, ignited your body like a spark to hot-wire a car. His thumb pressed gently into your clit and he slowly drew circles. 
“Dean,” he whispered bewitchingly against your lips. You felt his arm press into the pillow beside your head and he tenderly brushed your hair away from your neck. 
“Dean,” you moaned—begged, heart hammering in your chest at his tenderness. His response was instant, with his lips pressed against yours, numbing your mind once more, but a third finger slid into your pussy so you nearly toppled off the edge again. After a few thrusts that left you moaning wantonly against Dean’s mouth, his fingers disappeared from inside you. “God,” you cursed in irritation.
Soon, the entirety of his warmth was gone from your body. His bruising kiss left you breathless and thoughtless, but you managed to open your eyes to watch him lower his boxers with his thumb hooked at the stretchy waistband—leaving himself completely bare again. 
Dean bit his lip as he stroked his cock with his fingers coated in your slick. He seemed more than happy to have you watch. And you were more than happy with staring at the girth and length of him in his hand. His cock was pretty, beautiful even—if you could even imagine. Throbbing. Leaking precum at the tip so your mouth watered for a lewd long moment. You bit your lip and wondered what he tasted like—hopefully as good as he looked, how he’d fuck your mouth if you asked him to.
The sight of him like this made your arousal skyrocket. 
“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asked breathlessly, slowly making his way closer between your legs. 
The thought of his cock stretching you out instantly drove you crazy. 
Once he was close enough, he leaned over you again with his arm beside your head again. He slid his hot cock through your folds and your breath caught in your throat. He moaned softly. You tore your eyes from where he coated you in his precum repeatedly. 
“I want you… inside me,” you replied bashfully, heat flared up to your ears and you squirmed involuntarily—desperate to be fucked as you ruined the sheets beneath you with your slick. But over and over he teased your clit with slippery circles of his tip that began to build your resolve. He wasn’t going to let you finish and you knew it. 
“Which part of me?” Of course he’d do that. 
You became frustrated quickly and remained quiet to think of your next move. Dean had taken you to a point where your confidence was merely pent up sexual frustration.
You sat up and climbed into his lap without a single thought. As shamelessly as he’d touched you, you gripped the base of his cock. His lips parted and his eyes widened in pleasant surprise when you took his chin between your fingers and kissed him hard. He gave you full control and released his dick so his hands could find your hips instead and pull you closer. 
He felt heavy in your hand, the throb and heat of him made your grip tighten in anticipation. He moaned against your mouth when you slowly stroked up his silky skin, slick with his precum. You thumbed at the slit, smeared his excitement around the head of his cock, and sucked his bottom lip into your mouth.
Dean groaned softly and squeezed your hip. He slowly let himself lay on his back and pulled you down with your lips still locked in a breathy and covetous kiss. You twisted your hand upwards, faster, and emphasised the movement of your fingers beneath the head of his cock. He pulled away slightly with a gasp and found his place between your legs to run a teasing finger through your drenched folds. 
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard… wanna bury myself inside of you,” he murmured against your lips. 
“Oh, fuck,” you gasped instantly against his parted mouth, “yes.”
Dean kissed you hard and replaced your hand on his cock with his own again. He pulled away to catch his breath with you. Using his other hand, he brushed your hair out of the way and continued to pant for breath. He watched between your bodies, his throbbing cock in his hand, but you only watched him—curiously and longingly. He stroked himself slowly and he cursed under his breath when the tip finally breached the wet opening of your vagina.
Your breath hitched, but his name managed to slip out quietly. He hummed in satisfaction when you slowly lowered yourself on him. The delightful stretch of having him inside you weakened your knees and your pussy tightened around him. He thrusted upwards slowly, sliding his cock further into your wet heat, perfectly stroking your g-spot.
You pulled away a small distance and watched him become utterly enraptured. His freckled cheeks were tainted a deep red that spread up to the tips of his ears and down to his neck like a wildfire. He looked so fucking beautiful. His brows furrowed in concentration and his plush lips parted to release soft groans of pleasure that made your pussy throb around him greedily. 
His eyes fluttered open and he leaned up slightly to reach your lips. He managed to land a small peck before you started lifting yourself up and down on his cock. A broken moan from him made you smile devilishly. He fell back into the mattress and squeezed your hips roughly.
“Dammit, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he praised breathily. You hummed softly and wrapped your hands around his wrists to guide his hands up to your breasts before bouncing on his lap faster, building a more steadfast rhythm. 
“I love the way you feel, too,” you moaned softly, aroused at the sound of Dean’s cock entering your wet pussy and your skin hitting his when he was buried so deeply inside you the breath was nearly punched out of your lungs in surprise. 
“You’re so unbelievably beautiful,” he continued to worship quietly, pinching almost painfully at your nipples, then teasingly brushed the pads of his thumbs over them—maybe soothingly. You moaned and leaned back with your hands on his thighs the closer you got to your orgasm.
One of Dean’s hands moved away from your breast to slowly slide down the front of your body. You watched him stare up at you, adoring you with his touch and lauding you in between groans and gasps of ecstasy. He squeezed your thigh encouragingly and cursed at the way you clenched your cunt around his sensitive cock. 
You allowed yourself to close your eyes and let the pleasure of riding him saturate your mind and body. His hands moved along your body, praising without words when all he could do was groan and pant lewdly at your enthusiastic fucking. 
He kneaded your breasts, squeezed your flesh, scratched gently at your skin. You were teeming with bliss and you were embarrassingly wet, but everything about him made you pathetically horny and he appeared to absolutely love every second of it. 
Dean’s hand finally moved between your legs to find your clit and rub it continuously. His hips bucked upwards when you whined his name and clamped down on his cock as you orgasmed. Your body shook above him and he hummed low in his throat, partially amused, but mostly satisfied. 
His thumb rubbed furiously at your clit—dilating the duration of your orgasm, intensifying it—and only stopped when you couldn’t handle it anymore. Your whimper and the way you weakly draped your body over his with your forehead pressed into his warm shoulder, stopped him.
You couldn’t process much after that, but soon your face was pressed into his pillow and your pussy was getting filled again with his cock. His fingers bruised your hips and you gasped out moans as your second orgasm began to build. 
"Shit, you love it like this, don't you, sweetheart?" You were flustered by the soppy sound of your cunt every time he pounded into you from behind, but you were partially grateful that he was close to finishing. A perplexing, carnal part of you wanted him to keep ploughing into your pussy until you ached.
“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” Dean praised gruffly. You only whimpered brokenly in response as he fucked you through the squelch and wetness of your second orgasm. Your toes curled with the unbelievable sensation that seized your body when you felt his cum fill you with warmth. His release slipped between your thighs in a mixture with yours and you cried his name as your walls pulsed around his throbbing cock. 
Dean released you and your body sank completely into the soft mattress. He panted against your shoulder and murmured praises with his comforting hands sailing along your body. 
Your mind slowly returned to the real world and the beat of your heart slowed to its normal rhythm. You were exhausted and you wanted to clean yourself up, but Dean had other plans for you: staying in bed and cuddling.
You willed yourself into getting up out of his bed. You sat up—his arm loosely around your waist—and became aware of the lack of windows and the wooden stake that rested at the far end of the little platform—a shelf really—he had above his bed next to a little fan. 
“Um…” you trailed off, wiggling out of his arm to slide out of the messy bed. 
“You’re seriously not gonna stay in bed?” He questioned you as you looked around, attempting to ignore the rest of your mixed release dripping from between your legs. You felt his fingers move between yours, then a sharp tug pulled you back in bed. Your legs were shaky so you ended up right back where he wanted you to be—in his embrace. 
“Yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. You squirmed and wiggled until he finally released you, “I don’t know you and I need to… get back… somewhere, home.” He sat up on his side and stared at you blankly for a few seconds. No, he’s too beautiful. 
You looked away and decided to pull “your” clothes from where he’d thrown it to get something to cover your body now that your post-orgasmic brain was becoming logical and self-conscious. 
“Babe, drop it, we’ll play that game later,” he dismissed you with a cute snort. You groaned at him when he snagged his shirt from your hands. He slowly peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder and you were unable to fight him.
“Dean, I’m serious,” you tried weakly and gripped his hair to pull him away as gently as you could. You turned to look at him again and he backed off. “Look at me and tell me if I’m lying to you.” He rolled his eyes but held your gaze for a few moments as he contemplated you. 
You saw the amusement on his handsome face but you continued to frown. The amusement faded into perplexity and concern. 
“Ah, shit,” he muttered.
—> stone flower
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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
2K notes · View notes
calliesmemes · 9 months ago
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ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF
ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET
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CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
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“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”
“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”
“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”
“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”
“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”
“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”
“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”
“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”
“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”
“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”
“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”
“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”
“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”
“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”
“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”
“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”
“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”
“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”
“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”
“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”
“   I really do hate thinking. ”
“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”
“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”
“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”
“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”
“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”
“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”
“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”
“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”
“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”
“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”
“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”
“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”
“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”
“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”
“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”
“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”
“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”
“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”
“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”
“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”
“   You look so biteable today. ”
“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”
“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”
“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”
“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”
“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”
“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”
“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”
“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”
“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”
“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”
“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”
“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”
“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”
“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”
“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”
“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”
“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”
“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”
“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”
“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”
“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”
“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”
“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”
“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”
“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”
“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”
“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”
“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”
“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”
“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”
“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”
“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”
“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”
“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”
“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”
“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”
“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”
“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”
“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”
“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”
“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”
“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”
“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”
“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”
“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”
“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”
“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”
“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”
“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”
“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”
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2K notes · View notes
cyn-write · 1 year ago
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"She Blazes Me Beyond All Control"
Summary: Rollo has been eyeing you since your arrival, seeing you as the diamond amongst coals. At the Ball, he corners you into a dance, but your BF is not going to let this slide...
Pairings: Azul, Idia, Melleus x F!reader (Y/N)
warnings: Possessive behavior, suggestive, manipulation and obsession (Rollo), established relationships, romantic ~
Note: This came to me while playing Glorious Masquerade! Let me know if you want a part 2 or any other characters. I really enjoyed writing this and hope to do more! Enjoy!
Edit: Click this link for Riddle, Deuce, Ruggie, and Jamil!
Click Here for Rollo!!
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Prologue
"Who might you be miss?"
Y/n gave a kind smile and nodded her head in greeting "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," she stayed next to Trein as she was there as his assistant.
"Yuu is our magicless perfect of Ramshackle. She will be working as my assistant throughout the trip," Trein added.
She felt Rollo's eyes scan her and, unlike his greetings to the rest, he held out a hand. Being poilet she offered her hand as well and he lifted it to his lips, grazing her knuckles quickly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, y/n. I understand it must be difficult, being surrounded by mages every second of the day. I hope you get a chance to relax this trip."
Y/n blushed at the motion and bit her lower lip. All the while she could feel her boyfriend glaring daggers into her and Rollo.
"I-I'll do my best..." Y/n replied.
Throughout the entire trip, Rollo seemed to gravitate towards y/n and used every excuse to isolate her from the group. They chatted about her difficulties at NRC and of the festival. Due to her being Trein's assistant and the constant reminders to behave she and her Boyfriend had little time together.
This all accumulated at the Masquerade. Rollo had given Y/n a proper dress for the occasion instead of the attire his counsel had chosen. The (color) fabric decadently adorned your figure and stunned the NRC boys with its beauty. But before her boyfriend could ask for a dance, Rollo stole y/n away. He whisked her to the dance floor and they started chatting. At this point, Y/N's boyfriend has had enough of the student counsel president, but what sent him over the edge is when he takes you to the balcony and dare suggest the worst:
"Y/n, stay here with me." Y/n turned quickly on her heels to Rollo in confusion, "The fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. You belong here. with me." He has her pinned against the balcony, "This is your sanctuary."
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Azul Ashengrotto
Azul could sense Rollo's eyes on you since your arrival. He tried to be civil as Rollo was a possible future ally, but even a merchant has his limits.
He walks with purpose from his hiding place and places a firm hand on Rollo's shoulder.
"You are quite mistaken Rollo." Azul said with his business smile hiding his true rage, "You see, y/n is deeply loved at NRC and she needs no sanctuary when she has me to look after her." He moves Rollo to the side with surprising strength and takes his beloved's hand, pulling her to him and grazing her fingers with his lips, "Isn't that right, Anglefish?"
Y/n smiled so bright that Azul might have mistaken her for gold, "I couldn't have said it better myself."
Azul held on to his Anglefish as he gestured to the ballroom, "it is simply criminal that we have gone this long without a dance, especially when you look this~"
Y/n nodded with a giggle and as they left Azul gave Rollo a final glare.
"One last thing before we return to the crowd." Azul pulled in y/n for a passionate kiss. All in view of Rollo who was revolting at the sight of his pure beauty being kissed by a sea mage.
After a breathless kiss, Azul led his beloved away, sweeping her onto the dance floor. They danced the night away and during a particularly romantic number, Azul leaned into his beloved's ear, pushing away her h/c hair, and whispered.
"I am sorry for letting this get too far. But I can assure you, once we are alone, I promise to show you how much you set my heart ablaze~"
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Idia Shroud
Idia was never one for confrontation, but when his girlfriend was being stolen from him, well he did hate to lose.
"Where did you get the villain monologue from? A crappy kids movie?" Idia strode into the balcony and grabbed y/n out from under the creep. "The whole leave them and stay with me thing only works in ottoman games or one-off episode romances and I know y/n hates those subplots." He held y/n close to his chest. "Now, you leave my girlfriend alone, everyone knows in love triangles that the girl always chooses the hero, not the villain."
Y/n looked at Idia in awe. Her boyfriend hated confrontation, but he swooped in like Prince Charming and saved her.
"Idia's right. I love NRC. I could never leave." She said firmly and held locked her arms around his waist, "besides, I could never leave my knight in shining armor!"
Rollo stood in furry as the shut-in stole his beauty. He was shocked that the introverted mage confronted him, or that he was y/n's partner.
Idia glared at Rollo as he guided y/n away from the creep. "See ya Creep."
The moment they were out of Rollo's sight, Idia released a breath and melted into his beloved's embrace.
"Ohmysevensthatwasthescariestthingihadeverdoneinmylife." Idia nearly collapsed into y/n, but he held her tight.
"Idia, you were brilliant! I never thought you could do that, you were like a prince swooping in to save the princess." Y/n hugged Idia back. her anxiety and fear she felt from the situation finally settled in and a few tears started rolling down, "I was so scared idia..."
He pulled back slightly to look at her teats. He whipped away her tears and kissed her forehead, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, He was just so... scary. But when I heard him talking to you like that, i-it got my blood boiling." He placed a hand on her cheek and pressed his forehead against hers, "I know I don't show it as often as i should, but I really do love you... uhg I sound stupid..." Idia's face was burning as pink as his hair.
Y/n smiled and pressed a sweet kiss to Idia's lips, "I know what you mean... I love you too, my star hero."
Idia smiled and kissed y/n again with a deep passion.
He smiled a toothy grin as he heard the enchanting melody seeping from the ballroom. "I know it's lame, but we are all done up in festival cosplay... care to dance?"
Y/n pressed a kiss to Idia's cheek, "I'd love to!"
The couple didn't go back to the crowd. They instead danced right there, just outside the ballroom.
As the music played, Idia leaned into his beloved and whispered,
"I wouldn't be much of a Knight in shining armor if I let my princess think she was unloved... how about I show you how much I burn for you?"
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Melleus Draconia
Dragons were possessive creatures, and Malleus was no exception. He did not think much of Rollo and y/n's interaction, but this blatant display of affection towards his perfect. The sky cracked with thunder as Malleus glared down at Rollo from his place lurking spot. Rollo had the audacity to steal the first dance, now he was trying to take away the woman he loved. This would not do.
Y/n pushed Rollo away slightly and spoke up, "Thank you for the offer, but I have not intention of leaving NRC. It is difficult at times but I wouldn't have it any other way. Now if you excuse me, I want to go back to the ball."
Rollo grabbed y/n's wrist and pulled her against him. "It's because of Draconia, isn't it? He has bewitched you!" He pinned her between the balcony wall and him. "Those fiends have enchanted you, but I will free you from those chains and show you salvation! No matter the cost!"
"I think you misheard. Y/n said no." That is when Malleus stepped in. He floated above the two and threw Rollo off his perfect. He swooped y/n into his arms, carrying her like a bride. Oh, how he wished she was his bride, but not now, not yet.
Rollo scowled at Malleus, "You daemon, you and all your kind!"
Malleus' anger flared and another crack of thunder filled the air. He floated down so he was at eye-level with this monster. "If you dare touch another hair on her head, I will show you my true capabilities."
Y/n places a hand on Malleus' chest, "Tsunotarou, remember, we are guests here. What would Trein say if he heard of this?"
Malleus looked at y/n's e/c eyes and sighed. He stepped back, turned on his heels, and left the balcony and the angry monster on it.
Once they were a safe distance from the balcony, out of sight from the crowd, Malleus put y/n down and hugged her close to his chest. "Y/n, I'm sorry I didn't step in sooner. Did he hurt you?"
Y/n could feel the worry in Malleus' voice reverberate in his chest. She placed a hand on his cheek and stocked his soft skin "You saved me just in time Mal." She kissed his other cheek and said, "Thank you, my Prince Charming."
Malleus, in a surge of passion, kissed y/n deeply. He held her so close as if she might disappear if he let go. Y/n reciprocated the kiss.
Malleus parted and looked at the child of man's eyes "I hope you know how much my heart burns for you. Seeing you in the arms of another, it pains me more than anything else." His eyes were filled with a deep love for her. "I know how difficult it is to be an outcast, but I promise I will always be here for you. Even if the world is burning around us, I will hold you close and keep you safe until my dying breath."
Y/n felt her eyes water at his words. "Thank You Mal, I love you so much."
"I love you too, Y/n," Malleus pressed his lips against hers in a fiery passion. They stayed like this for a few minutes exchanging passionate kisses as the music played. Then another symphony started to play and the calls of their companions grew louder.
Malleus chuckled and stepped back, taking one of her hands and bowing to press a kiss to it,
"We can continue this later in private. For now, may I have this dance, my flame?"
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Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing an NSFW part 2 or want to see more characters in this scenario, please let me know! (Do not Steal)
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stormz369 · 2 months ago
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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 1
Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem) A/N: I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not even much of a DC fan, but Jason Todd has quickly become my latest hyper fixation character (Harley Quinn too, do I just have a thing for Joker victims???) so ... thank you for giving me a place to put this energy I guess! 😂 I'm not super confident on the characterizations, but I'm going with it because I like it. If it's wildly ooc ... that tracks, given that the only DC comic I've read is Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Read it, or don't, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. The art doesn't belong to me, but the writing does. Please do not post elsewhere!
written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, starting out fluffy, will probably get NSFW later so minors DNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!
word count: 1.7k
Chapter Selection
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In a city known for its masked fighters, you learn pretty quickly that everyone and everything is a potential threat. Every approaching stranger on the street, every loud sound behind you, every dark alleyway. Being bigger than me certainly isn't a prerequisite to being a danger, but it does have a way of setting off my mental alarms. I've found that big men are used to getting their way, and they get all sorts of bent out of shape if you deny them their wishes. Especially when they think they're doing you a favor.
It died down a bit after high school; I learned to exist in public with ‘fuck off’ stamped across my face. Headphones on, reading a book, intentionally seated at the table furthest from the other cafe patrons. All the typical signs of someone who wants to be left alone; nothing about me said ‘please come talk to me'. So I was understandably on edge when I noticed someone standing by the chair across from me. I look up just a bit, gesturing to the chair with a nod. Silent consent to take it back to his table and leave me to my book.
No such luck. The man simply smiled and mimed taking headphones off. Putting a bored look on my face, I moved one off my ear. “... Hm?”
“Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but my brother thinks you're really beautiful and is refusing to come tell you himself.” 
I could feel my expression turning to stone. “... What is this, middle school?”
His cheerful grin faltered ever so slightly; “hey, I know it's a bit silly, but he's awkward around cute girls, so what's a brother to do, ya know?”
I stared him down; “... You're not fooling anyone. Move on.”
“... Sorry, ‘fooling anyone’?”
“It’s not funny, it’s not even hurtful the 20th time, it's just annoying. Go. Away.” It was a lie; it was always painful to be on the receiving end of these pranks. But that was what these guys wanted, so I wasn't going to tell him that. My headphones back in place, the guy slunk away.
Ten minutes later, another person was standing by the chair. I pretended not to see him, continuing to read my book, until he plopped down in the seat. I looked up slowly and he smiled, another oddly warm smile, leaning forward on his elbows.
An incredibly put-out sigh later, I slid the headphones off one ear again. “What?”
“Hi, I'm Tim! I'm not sure what exactly my brother said to you, but I wanted to let you know - we're not trying to prank you or something. Our brother is just way too awkward with girls. It's painful to watch, really, so we figured we'd give him a hand.” He spoke much too fast for me to get a word in. I blinked a bit, raising an eyebrow.
“... You frat boys are really committing to the bit these days, huh?”
“Huh? No, really, I promise!”
My headphones were nearly back into place when a child showed up. His impatient expression matched how I felt about the whole situation. “As usual, Drake, your plans are far too convoluted to be effective. Watch and learn.”
He turned to me, nothing about his demeanor changing; “hello. Todd said we shouldn't bother you because you ‘clearly want to be alone’, but I am convinced the only way to stop their nonsense is if he comes over. May he have a moment of your time?”
Frowning a little, I stared at the kid. He stared right back, neither of us blinking for a solid minute as we sussed each other out. His expression barely changed, but the boredom in his eyes turned into determination. “... Well, you're definitely not a frat boy. So I'll make you a deal; you may report back that he has permission to come say hi. If he doesn't choose to, that's the end of this little charade. And if either of them” I gestured to the one sitting at my table; “comes back over here, I start stabbing. Got it?”
The boy nodded once, and I thought I saw a ghost of a smirk. “You have my word.” He dragged the other man out of the chair by his shirt, pulling him stumbling toward their table. That was when I saw him. The only person at their table who hadn't come over yet. Even hunched over the table he was enormous, probably close to six feet tall; exactly the kind of man I typically avoided. The kid spoke sharply, pointing in my direction, and his head shot up to look in my direction. Even from across the spacious patio, I could see his face turning red. The obnoxious, cocky smirk I was expecting to see was entirely missing; instead he seemed almost confused.
Headphones back on but turned off so I could hear if he approached, I returned to my book. But I only got through a few pages before the first one shouted; “and offer to get her another coffee or something!”
I looked over to see the tall one frozen halfway between our tables, a look on his face like he was considering jumping over the patio fence to get away. His demeanor reminded me of a lost puppy, and I couldn't help the chuckle that rose up out of my throat. I bookmarked my page, set the book aside, and slid my headphones down around my neck. I really thought he was about to bolt until I lifted one hand, curling my fingers to gesture for him to continue toward me.
He stopped short by a good several feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the chair, and took one extra step back. It seemed as if he was hyper aware of just how much he loomed over me; the way he stood was like he was trying to will himself to be smaller, and he kept his hands at his sides. “Um … hi. … Sorry, this is … this is really weird …”
I nodded, watching him. “It is a bit. … Todd, was it?”
“Jay… Jason.”
“Not Todd?”
“Jason Todd. Damian calls me Todd, he thinks using people's last names keeps them at an arm's length…” Jason Todd. The name felt familiar, but I couldn't place why. He continued to ramble about how important tone was in determining whether this Damian kid was referring to you with affection or disdain, and I watched him. He was admittedly very cute; he had a sort of a bad boy aesthetic -leather jacket, dark clothes, a white streak in his hair, some unusual scars on his face and arms-, which juxtaposed interestingly with the gentleness in his voice, bright eyes, and awkward mannerisms. That was actually the thing that made the most sense about this situation; bikers are often secret teddy bears.
“... Jason?”
He looked up at me, one hand sheepishly making its way into his hair. “Yeah, sorry, you want me to go. I'll get them to stop harassing you, so sorry-”
“Actually, I was going to say you don't have to stand the whole time.” I gestured to the chair across from me.
He hesitated, watching me. “... Y- you don't want me to go?”
I smiled softly and shook my head. “Sit?”
He quickly obeyed, a hesitant smile on his face, which was almost immediately hidden by his hand when his brothers whooped from their table. “... God, I'm so sorry … th- they mean well, really, they're not trying to be weird …”
I laughed softly, “it's fine, that's what siblings do, right?”
“... I guess so … I've been sort of … away for a while, but I guess this is pretty standard sibling behavior. … Right?”
“I mean, a little more insistent than mine, but not too far outside the realm of what I’d consider normal.” I shrugged, finishing my chai latte.
He smiled slightly, considering that. “... Hm … um … c- can I get you another?” He gestured to my cup.
“... Sure, I've got time.”
The pleased grin on his face as he looked away to flag down a server surprised me. Then again, everything about him was surprising. Still, no one had ever looked at me quite like that before… 
The server sauntered over, clearly curious about my new companion. Jason smiled brightly; “Hi, can we get another for the lady? And I'll have a medium black coffee, sweet, please.”
Huh. He called me a ‘lady’. Not a girl, or a chick, a lady. That was … also surprising. We chatted for a little while, sipping our coffees, and tried to ignore his staring brothers. He was incredibly awkward, in a sweet, endearing way. I got the impression that he wasn't fully comfortable, but chalked it up to how weirdly this all started. After a while, the first one returned, a small grimace on his face.
I raised an eyebrow; “I'm pretty sure I told the little one that the next one of you to come over was getting stabbed.”
“I know, I know! I'm so sorry, but Jay, we gotta go. Bruce texted…”
That was when it clicked; why I knew the name Jason Todd. He was a Wayne … his death had dominated the news cycle for a week. His miraculous, frankly poorly explained, return was the story for at least two.
He looked, torn, between me and his brother. “Oh … um …”
The man I finally recognized as Dick Grayson leaned forward and fake-whispered, “the words you're looking for are ‘can I have your phone number'?”
Jason swatted him away, blushing bright red; “Seriously, Dick? … well, can I-”
His ears were turning red as I held my hand out for his phone. I added my contact info and, feeling unusually bold, I added ☕💖 after my name while Jason dropped a couple of bills on the table; I smiled a bit, realizing he was leaving enough to cover my first drink for me too. I passed his phone back, enjoying the look of wonder on his face when he checked the screen. The way he whispered my name, like a prayer meant only for god's ears, had my stomach doing backflips.
“thanks … I'll call you?”
“Sounds good. I'm a night owl, so not too early, yeah?”
He nodded eagerly. “Not too early, promise.”
Next ->
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codtrashsammy · 7 months ago
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Cute Meet?
Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))
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Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.
Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 
What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.
Simon was enchanted at first glance.
Ghost decides he could be, too.
A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.
Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.
“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.
“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.
He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?
After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.
“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.
Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.
But they both decide you’re theirs.
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divinesolas · 7 months ago
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Undeniable Desire
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c.w season two spoilers; characters (addam and nettles), mention of dragonseeds (nothing more), loss of virginity (jacaerys) non virgin reader, smut, fingering (fem), oral (fem), p in v, clothed sex ?, possessive jacaerys, not proofread
summary: You are dragonseed and have become good friends with the prince. You think nothing of it and not expecting your desires to lead to anything but when you speak of what you think of your future his truer colors show.
w.c: 1.8k
a.n: anybody else cant stop thinking about bridgerton LMAO, i need to rewatch soon, anyways i hope you all enjoy :3 promise im getting around to requests i just needed to push out this idea 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS
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You finally manage to shake off addam and his drunken rampage with a laugh telling him off. “come on you cant leave yet.” “I am going to bed you fool leave me be.” You knock him upside the head and he groans giving you the opportunity to walk away and turn back to the rest of them with a wave. Chimes of goodnights and sleep well are what your met with and you walk away, feeling eyes burning into you you turn back once more and see him staring at you with an unknown look on his face, taking a drink out of his chalice ignoring alyn next to him who was talking his ear off, not even sparing him a glance as he continues to stare at you.
You turn around attempting to ignore how your stomach burns and your face heats at the thought of him. Jacaerys Velaryon. You just like the rest of your ‘dragonseed’ friends have grown close to jacaerys during your time together. Yet you can’t help but feel their was something different about the way he looked at you and even other people can’t help but notice it either.
‘He is definitely wants to fuck you.’ ‘Nettles!’ The girl next to you laughs before chugging down her wine. ‘Do not say such things.’ Addam walks over and drops down to the spot next to you, ‘what are you two talking about?’ ‘The prince.’ ‘ah and how he wants to shag miss oblivious right here.’ ‘did you guys plan this?!’ You in your frustration rip the cup out of addams hands and chug it. ‘its not our fault he makes it so painfully obvious and you are so painfully oblivious to it.’ You shake your head and keep your gaze at the campfire in front of you. ‘It is not true.’ you don’t see the way the pair look at each other and instead start picking at the grass near you.
Even if it was true it wouldn’t matter, you certainly had no intention of sleeping with him. He was betrothed and he certainly did not seem like the type of man to lay around with any women he saw fit. He was the crowned prince for gods sake the heir to the queen and you were in the middle of a damn succession war feelings be damned and you were certain your friends were just playing jokes on you and he certainly just saw you as a friend.
You think nothing of it as you are getting ready to go to bed, just having put on your night gown after your bath, when the flap of your tent opens and you turn to it alarmed and let out a sigh of relief when you see him. “I am sorry i did not mean to disturb you.” “It is no issue my prince, Do you need something?”
You turn back to the mirror and fiddle around with your hair, eyeing the prince through the mirror. He just stares at you for a moment and takes a drink from his cup, you gulp and look away from him, pushing down your own desires attempting to stop your imagination from running wild. What if he just walked over to you and pushing you against the mirror, ripping off your dress and having his way with you, maybe he would drop to his knees and wrap his lips around your pearl, only letting go until you were withering and begging him to stop.
You shake your head and “Would it be selfish of me to admit i missed you? i feel as though we did not talk much today?” You smile lightly at his words and curse yourself for thinking such terrible things. Of course he simply just wished to see you, as he had been busy with his duties all day, only getting to see you all at the end of they day only for you to leave before getting to say a single word to him.
“You honor me my prince with your time.” He shakes his head with a laugh taking another sip, “i would give you anything in the world.” You flush and look down, fiddling with your dress too embarrassed to move from your place in front of the mirror. Hes just being dramatic you think, he does not mean what he says, especially since he seems to be drinking. “You are too kind my prince.” “Call me Jace i beg of you.” “Would you truly beg me?” “I would get on my knees at your feet and do whatever you asked.” Your knees shake as you press your thighs together, the heat between you legs almost unbearable, a part of you wants to shoo him away so you can put your hand between your legs and take care of yourself or find some poor soul in the camp to relieve yourself with. You don’t, you cannot simply ask him to leave for such selfish reasons, especially since you know deep deep down that if you sought out somebody else you would only be thinking about him.
He seems to realize you don’t plan on saying anything so he begins to speak. “You know they were all talking about something.” You give him an interested look in the mirror and he takes another sip, “About what they were planning on doing after this fight is over. Do you have any thoughts? About what you plan to do?” You look up in thought, “I haven't given it much thought if im being honest.” He hums but says nothing. “Maybe i go off to the reach, it sounds very lovely.” “You would not stay in the keep?” You laugh at his idea and shake your head, “Why would i stay there? What would you miss me?” He says nothing and you don't look at him, instead continue talking, lost in your own imagination. “I would probably travel around for a bit, then find some lord to marry he fuck some babies into me and then i live the rest of my life-” You gasp as your suddenly pushed against the mirror being completely trapped by him, you hadn’t even registered the cup being thrown to the ground.
“My prince?” He flips you around suddenly and your eye to eye with him. His hands grip your waist and pull you directly against him. “You will not leave.” “I don't understand-” “You are not going anywhere you will stay by my side.” He has an animalistic look about him, like he's about to eat you whole, completely bewildered by the idea of you leaving. “I have no place in the keep.” “Your place is by my side.” His words have such a finality and certainty about them as if he's giving you no reason to argue with him. “You are to be married, This is highly inappropriate.” Your words are pushed out like puffs of air as his hands have moved up to your chest, rubbing your nipples through the fabric, you can feel him hardening between your legs. “I shall take you as a my second wife, no one will argue i will be king.” “You are being absurd.” “Do you desire me?”
You pull him into a heated kiss. He quickly reciprocates, his hands moving from your waist to under your night gown and he lets out a delighted hum at the liquid on your thighs. ‘Are you bare?” “I was planning on sleeping.” He moans lightly before he pauses before actually touching, “Do you want this?” you nod feverishly, “Please touch me please.” wasting no more time he runs his fingers along your folds, “This is for me right? and no some stupid pompous lord in the reach.” “yes yes.” You answer him but he doesn't seem to be listening, mumbling to himself in anger. “I hate the lords in the reach, always with each other heads in their asses no way you will marry any of them, let them put a baby in you.” He sticks two fingers inside you, “I wouldn’t i wouldn’t only you.” The pit in your lower stomach grows as you watch in shock him drop to his knees in front of you, his body being lost to your gown as he begins to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers moving quicker to pump in and out of you.
You cannot speak so much of his name. Using one of your hands to cover your mouth to not draw attention to yourself, the other plays with one of your tits, sliding it under your dress. He does not let up, even has you orgasm once then twice, only releasing you after the third time and you fall back, leaning against the mirror with wobbly legs as he keeps a tight grip on you holding you up as he stands. You can see the shine of your own essence on his lips and jaw, you swear you can even see some of it dripping down his neck into his collarbone.
He simply stands there and watches you fiddle around with his pants to free him for a few moments as he licks his lips. “You do not know how often i have thought about this.” You look up at him and give him a smile, “You think of me?” “Every minute of everyday, my waking thoughts and my dreams are only filled with you.”
Before you know it he is pushing into you with a hiss and you chuckle with a delighted moan at his closed eyes and clenched teeth. “First time?” “I may not have been your first but i will be your last.” Giving himself a second to get used to your pulsing warm walls that seem to be sucking him in every second he begins to move. Hes a little sloppy, clearly unsure and if anything a little unconfident about what he’s supposed to do. You place your head on his neck, making sure your lips are right next to his ear and you begin to move your hips to meet his, moaning in his ear only for him to hear.
He gains confidence after a few moments and soon enough you have no longer and need to meet him as he begins to pound into you diligently. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his tunic as the pit in your stomach grows once more. “please tell me your close.” You’re shocked he’s even managed to last this long but nod and he groans in delight. “Please peak please together.”
The mirror behind you is completely covered with a foggy mist just as your eyes are when you finally release. You pray as you catch your breath that you two were quiet enough because you would rather be dead than me made fun of by your friends for finally fucking the prince. But as you feel his seed running out your lips and down your thigh you decide maybe it was worth it.
--
perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese
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mantou-rin · 5 months ago
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The moment the boys realise they are head over heels for you
Characters: Kenma, Sugawara, Yaku
A/N: The amount of things I am able to come up with while at work should be studied. As usual not proofread I am sorry but I hope you like the silly thoughts that go through my head on a daily basis.
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KENMA
Kenma couldn't help but look up from his game to stare at you.
You were at the other end of the classroom talking with a few of your classmates. Your voice wasn't exactly loud, but your presence was more than enough to catch his attention. Kenma admired the way you spoke and the way your face lit up everytime someone said something interesting. You weren't exactly an extrovert, but you had a bubbly and bright personality, and often got along well with pretty much anyone. 
Kenma kind of envied you for that. Not that he was the kind to draw attention to himself, but being able to comfortably talk with people sometimes seemed nice. 
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of him looking at you, and you turned to give him a smile while waving towards him. He instantly panicked, and quickly turned his attention back to his game console, trying his best to calm his rapidly beating heart. 
He wasn't sure for the longest time about this feeling he had towards you. Was it fascination or just admiration, or was it something more than that. To him, you seemed so interesting, almost as if he wanted to study - no, get to know you better. His racing heart finally confirmed it as a crush, but how does he even begin to ask you out? 
“Kenma”
He nearly jumped when he heard that familiar voice of yours. Slowly he put down his console and directed his attention to you. You were standing next to his desk, the sunlight hitting your face gave you the prettiest glow he had ever seen. 
It was real, he wanted to get closer to you, he wanted to understand everything about you. 
“There's a new cat cafe that just opened, would you like to go there together? I hope you don't mind that it'll just be the two of us.”
Two of us? Did he hear that correctly? Of course he wouldn't mind, if anything he was more than happy that it was just the two of you.  
“Mhm.” Came his silent reply, to which you happily told him that you’ll message him the details when you get home. 
Turns out that your feelings for him were mutual as well. 
SUGAWARA
Suga was not having a good day right now. He felt he didn't do a great job at practice just now and now he couldn't get rid of the constant worry that his team would be disappointed in him. For the most part, he knew the Karasuno boys would never be upset with him, but what if today it was different. 
Before he left just now, Daichi had already told him to cheer up and not think about it, but he just couldn't help himself. He wished he wasn't the kind to mull over his mistakes over and over, but unfortunately, he wasn't that kind of person. 
He really wanted to call you right now. He often told you how you were his comfort after a long day, and he felt that he really needed you today. He was about to make the call when he realised that you told him that you were going out to run some errands that night. 
Right. It wasn't polite to disturb someone when they were busy.  Suga figured to simply drop you a text instead, the both of you could talk about it later tonight.
Sighing, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked up at the sky. It was so quiet and calm, contrary to whatever his mind was right now - noisy and chaotic. 
“Suga!” He heard someone call from behind him. 
Hang on. That voice was familiar, one that he has heard many times, there was no way it was - 
You.
Suga wasn't sure why he nearly cried when he saw you, heck he wasn't even sure why you suddenly showed up. 
“Sorry if I’m a little late, but I saw your message and figured that I should come right away. Also sorry I couldn't get something better, but I got you some ice cream from the convenience store on the way here.”
Suga panicked a little, he worried that his message to you came off as something that needed immediate attention, that wasn't what he intended for it to be, although now that he saw you the chaos that was in his mind just now seemed to have died down. 
“Eh, I thought you had to run errands? Sorry if I bothered you.” 
“I can always go another day, besides, you having a bad day is something more important than the groceries I have to buy.” 
Suga wasn't aware, but he was sure he let a tear slip out of his eye when he felt your hands reaching towards him to wipe them away. He never noticed because he was always the one doing the comforting, but right now with you next to him assuring him that everything was going to be alright, his mind became a reflection of the night sky - calm and quiet.
“I'll go run your errands with you tomorrow, and will you allow me to bring you out for dinner afterwards?” 
YAKU
Yaku was glad you decided to join the volleyball team as a manager. Even though the two of you were childhood friends (and neighbours), any extra minute he got to spend with you meant a lot to him. 
You were attentive and smart, always promptly taking care of the team’s needs and giving out advice as needed. Your presence alone sometimes helped boost the team’s morale. 
Water was running low? You had already prepared new bottles for the boys long ago before they even noticed they were running out. 
There was a spot on the court that seemed a little slippery? The next thing Yaku knew you were ready to swoop in with the mop to clean it up. 
The team needed extra balls for practice? There was nothing to worry about because you would have a new basket of volleyballs ready by the side.  
You were talking to Yaku halfway after practice when you excused yourself to find the coach for something. Yaku couldn't help but glance over at the extra bag he had seen you carrying around recently. You happened to leave it open, and Yaku caught sight of a pair of knee guards - specifically the ones he was using. Yaku didn't want to peek, but he was too curious as to why you had that in your bag. He pried the bag open slightly and saw a towel as well as a pouch filled with first aid supplies. 
Perhaps you were playing volleyball too? 
When you came back, Yaku asked if you started playing volleyball too, referencing the items he saw in your bag. 
“Ah, no it's just emergency stuff in case you get injured. I've seen you getting many new bruises because of practice so I wanted to be ready just in case.” You replied softly, slightly embarrassed by the fact that you had been found out. 
Yaku felt his heart do about a thousand backflips. He was always under the impression that you cared for each team member equally, but now knowing that you put in a little more effort to look out for him made him somewhat flustered. 
“Ah, thank you.” Was the only thing he could splutter out.
There was a brief silence before he mustered up his courage to speak again.
“Would you like to go get dinner together after practice tomorrow?”
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spiderlily-w1tch-blog · 5 months ago
Text
𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚒||𝙴𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 - 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑
𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊
— — —
Ft Todoroki Natsuo, Dabi, & (cheater!)Todoroki Shouto; Ft Stolen|Payback, size kink, daddy kink, creampie(wow, i’m realising that that’s a very common theme here)
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own BNHA or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors
WC: 5,164(a longer one :D)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes references to cheating(by Shouto), daddy kink, age gap, light breeding kink(one line), references to arson and violence, few uses of “Y/n”, 1st Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)
𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: This is Quirkless!AU, so Dabi’s ‘scars’ are just cool tattoos, maybe a bit of burn scars bc he’s still a pyromaniac lol
【Masterlist】
— — —
‘I hate him! I hate him!! I hate him!!!’ I screamed in my mind as I wiped my tears again, getting out of my car. ‘That fucking bastard!’ I wanted nothing more than to actually scream out what I was feeling but I just wanted to get in, grab my shit, and go. I used the spare key I almost wanted to shove down his throat, to get into his family home. I haphazardly tossed my shoes off and barely slid on the house slippers before I started on my way into the home.
With my tears blurring my vision to next to nothing, my thoughts were going a million miles a minute with the constantly recurring thought of how heavy my finger feels without the ring that bastard had the audacity to promise himself to me with. I didn’t see the hulking figure in front of me, having heard the harsh shutting of the door. I crashed into a solid chest and almost fell had it not been for the Firefighter’s fast reflexes.(Am I funny now??)
“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I-,” I tried and failed to suppress a sob that interrupted my sentence, “I di-didn’t se-ee you..” My body shook with my repressed sobs, though I couldn’t bring myself to care. In my state, I also hadn’t realized that Shouto’s father hadn’t let me go yet, nor had I realized he was shirtless.
“Y/n? What happened?” Enji asked, a hand coming up to cup my face and brush away the tears. I hadn’t even had a moment’s thought of how intimate the action was. I was simply comforted by the, vaguely surprisingly gentle hold.
“I-I don’t.. I don’t wan-want to c-cause anything..” I said through the tears still running down my face. The upside to the tears running meant that they weren’t all in my eyes, so I could actually see to an extent.
“Don’t worry about that, Little Flame, what’s happened?”
“Sh-Shouto…” Even saying his name wrought a strike of pain to my heart. Apparently, I physically cringed at it, making Enji pull me into a warm embrace. Burying my face in his bare chest, I felt content enough to continue, “He-He cheated on me…” I mumbled, just loud enough that he could hear. Suddenly, the hold around me tightened, not in a painful way, no, in a protective way that made me feel safe for reasons I didn’t understand in my emotional state. It almost took my thoughts away from the imaginary weight on my hand even with the lack thereof.
“He what?” Enji all but growled, I could somehow tell, though, that he wasn’t angry with me. I nodded into his form and curled in on myself a bit more.
“W-with Yaomomo..” I shuttered out, seemingly a substitute for the sobs that wracked my body just minutes ago. It seems I was out of tears. I could feel his fists clench before he pulled back, holding me by my shoulders.
“That is unacceptable, Little Flame. I promise he will be dealt with accordingly. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you?” The large man asked, the look in his eyes seeming like he already had something in mind. The feeling of safety and security he gave me, as well as the powerful look in his eye, I decided in under 5 seconds.
“C-can you hold me..?” I asked weakly, wanting to feel his strong arms around me again.
“Of course, Little Flame, anything for you,” He gave me a smile that sent a shiver down my spine for all the wrong reasons since he’s my, now Ex(whether he knew it or not), fiancé’s father. That thought didn’t stay long as all I wanted to focus on was the comfort he could give me.
He effortlessly lifted me into his arms and moved to the family room and sat down in the large armchair with me now in his lap. He led me to lean into his chest as he caressed my back with both hands. With his entire body naturally dwarfing me, his hands encompassed most of the space, his left hand gently stroking over my lower back while his right stayed between my shoulder blades.
My breathing returned to normal while I inhaled his smoky scent and let myself feel his body against mine, lightly blushing when I finally processed that he had nothing on his very built torso. I moved my head closer to his neck from where it lay on his shoulder, my hands beginning to slide up and down his hard chest slightly, feeling the sparse, coarse chest hair. Slowly, his left hand moved lower and dipped under my sweater top and stroked his fingers lightly on the skin just above my where my leggings ended.
His right hand smoothed down my spine before he planted it heavily on my thigh. He stroked his thumb over the area, so close to my mound, and it made me clench around nothing. He’s my cheating ex’s father, I knew I wasn’t supposed to be doing this, any of this, with him, but he’s just so big and warm and comforting and I’d be a boldfaced liar if I said I’d never thought about it. I’d also be a liar if I said part of me didn’t want to get revenge on Shouto, and you know what they say, ‘If he cheats, fuck his dad,’ no matter if it makes me feel the tiniest bit guilty.
Lifting my head up to look at him I inadvertently arched my back to look into his eyes. My gaze flickered to his lips and I noticed that his did the same to mine. Before I could even think of any reason not to, I leaned forward and captured his lips. He immediately returned the kiss and slid his left hand up my back, under my sweater top, to pull me closer.
“Yo! I’m home!” The front door opened and closed as Natsuo announced his presence. I startled and started to pull back but Enji stopped me.
“Don’t worry, Little Flame. Natsuo! Do you know if Shouto will be home soon?” Enji called down the hall to Genkan.
“Uh, I think so, why?” His voice got closer to the family room and my panic started to steadily grow with each step at the prospect of being found like this. The misunderstanding could be the end of me. As far as I knew only Enji and I knew about the affair, or at least that I knew as Shouto had no idea I had found out. So if my supposed fiancé’s brother found me in their father’s lap, I could only imagine the media storm I would fall prey to.
“Good. So he can see what he lost.” The smirk was evident in his voice and I was ready for the shouts and accusations as Natsu turned the corner.
“Oh, shit. You girls really mean it when you say that if a guy cheats on you, sleep with their dad, huh? Respect. Definitely gonna make sure not to piss off my girlfriend…” The lack of extreme reaction shocked me and I could only gawk at Natsu as he moved to sit down on the couch furthest from us.
“I- w-wait… What..? You know?” I stutter out, still gawking.
“I found out last night. I don’t have your number so I couldn’t tell you so I tried to find you but I had no clue where you were, sorry.” He bowed his head in genuine apology and I felt slightly better knowing that Natsu, even being Shouto’s brother, wanted to tell me of his betrayal.
“Now, Little Flame. Let me make you feel good, and even better when you can show him that you know he fucked up.” Enji’s voice brought me back and, with a newfound enthusiasm, I dove back in and crashed my lips to his, heat blooming in my core at the sound of his deep baritone voice cussing, for me no less. His left hand then moved down to my other thigh where he squeezed the flesh and angled them so his thumbs would both be rubbing at the edges of my cunt. I moaned wantonly into his mouth and rolled my hips to both grind on his bulge and try to get his hands further on my clothed pussy.
“Hey, Natsuo! I’m here! What did you want to talk to me about?” Shouto’s oldest brother, Touya— though he said to call him Dabi— called into the house with the sound of the front door opening and closing again.
“In the living room! I guess it’s more show and tell now, though.”
“Show and tell? What are you, fi- Holy fuck…” Dabi stopped mid-step as he turned the corner and then started to laugh in amazement, “Damn, what the hell did Shouto do?! If you’re fuckin’ the Old Man he must have really fucked up.” He spoke through his laughing fit before he wiped an imaginary tear and smirked in our direction. “But, uh, hey, if you’re lookin’ for revenge on the brat, I’m always free, too, babe.” I rested my head on Enji’s chest sideways to look at the tattooed man and giggled as I never stopped the motion of my hips.
“I’ll keep that in mind next time he cheats.” I said bitterly and got a sick sense of satisfaction when I saw the way Dabi’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
“Holy shit, forget revenge fucking his dad, I’m gonna help you set the bastard on fire.” I had heard stories of his pyromaniac tendencies but I didn’t think they were real, or at least I thought they were massively exaggerated.
“How about the three of us go afterwards, Touya.” Natsuo’s voice called from the couch and I returned my full attention to Enji when he kissed and nipped at my neck with a possessive growl in my ear.
“Sounds good, Natsu. Now scoot over, ain’t no way I’m missing this shit.” The pleased man trotted over to his brother and sat, watching in both lewd interest and smug satisfaction. Getting impatient, I whined and ground my hips harder against the behemoth of a man.
“Please..” My voice came out high-pitched and needy, “Please, Daddy…” Enji’s breath hitched at the name and I panicked for only a second before another, more possessive growl sounded against my throat, and his hands wrapped tightly around my hips and moved my hips to roughly press into his as he leaned back enough to capture my lips.
“Damn, how am I both not surprised at all and yet entirely unprepared for that?” Dabi muttered to Natsuo who only offered a breathless chuckle in return.
Finally getting impatient, Enji slid his hands up from my waist and took my sweater top with the lift. I sat up to help him shuck it off and teasingly tossed it at Dabi. He whooped and jokingly told Natsuo to hand over his wallet. I rolled my eyes with a smile before my spine stiffened with a shocked gasp and moan when Enji’s thumbs dug into the seam of my leggings, with the rest of his big hands pulling the fabric taut, and tearing into them to expose my soaked panties.
“Holy shit… I mean, I figured it’s been a while since he got laid but, fuck, that was…” Natsuo spoke, both bewildered and kind of amazed at the actions of his father and the strength he exhibited in the moment.
“Desperate? Savage? Insane only the most pent-up kind of horny can make you? Yea.” Dabi cheekily replied, still not taking his eyes off the scene as he leaned toward his brother to mutter his response. Enji kept a hand at the apex of my thighs surrounded by the remains of my pants and used the other to pull me back down for a sweet kiss to my lips, to my cheek, and my jaw.
“I’ll buy you a new pair, Little Flame, I’m sorry,” he apologized, though it only sounded about half genuine in the moment, as he nipped at my lobe. His lips attached to my neck as his hand returned to the shreds of fabric and he maneuvered it enough that he could pull it easily enough down my thighs without disturbing our connection.
“Fuck… Enji, please..” I whined, the throbbing in my core becoming too much. He growled lowly at my voice and nipped at the skin just below my ear and moved his hand back to my soaked-through panties.
“Needy, Little Flame, huh?” He asked teasingly as he slid his thumb over my cunt through my underwear. My grip on his broad shoulders tightened and I let a chalky breath out at the pleasure just a layer closer to my heat. As if he could sense my thoughts, Enji moved his thumb to sneak under the hem of my panties to stroke my pussy directly. The sudden stimulation had me crying out and arching my back, pushing my chest against his.
Enji used his free hand to pop open the clasp on my bra and help me pull it off, leaving my breasts exposed. Dabi whistled and I didn’t have a chance to give a witty response when the hulking man beneath me took one of my nipples between his lips and sucked. I gasped and clenched around nothing which he must have felt. His fingers moved and he pulled the fabric to the side of my pussy and stroked through the labia with his fore and middle fingers before he eased them into my hole. While he sucked on my tit and lightly nipped at the bud, he slowly moved his fingers in and out, in and out, in and out of me. He turned his wrist over to have his closed palm facing upwards and sped up his ministrations.
“So tight, he hasn’t been taking care of you, has he?” Enji popped off of my nipple and spoke.
“T-Too.. busy fucking my best-best friend, I guess…” I breathed and looked down at his face which held a lust-clouded anger, a fire in his eyes as he gazed up at me. My gaze flickered down to where he was finger fucking my cunt and I saw the dark patch on the front of his sweatpants from my dripping arousal.
“Which one is her best friend again?” Dabi murmured to Natsuo, clicking a lighter repeatedly, likely a fidget the Pyromaniac had developed.
“Uh, the one with the giant ponytail and her tits always out.” Natsuo summed her up, making me giggle breathlessly while their father fingered me.
“Oh, yea, that one. Wait- Yaoyorozu? The brat of that one ridiculously rich and snobby family we do business with?”
“That’s the one. Yea, I never liked her, she was somehow a little brat and a stick in the mud at the same time.” My instinctive response was to defend her, say she was different if she was comfortable around you, but I stopped myself, quickly remembering just what kind of person she really is if she would betray me like this, to fuck my fiancé behind my back and have the audacity to lie to my face and still smile at me as if she wasn’t a homewrecking whore.
“Oh, fuck. Y’know I always did was want to watch them crash and burn.” I smiled and shivered at Dabi’s sentiment and moaned loudly when Enji’s thick fingers brushed against the spongy spot inside me. He smirked and brought his hand back up to hold the back of my neck to pull me into another kiss.
Even with his fingers plunging into my heat again and again, I felt far too empty so I lightly scraped my nails down his chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. He groaned into my mouth and his grip tightened on my nape and his fingers in my pussy plunged faster and harder. I moaned— a whiny, high-pitched noise— against his lips and rushed to yank his pants down below his solid cock.
Finally getting it free, I wrapped my hand around his dick and began to stroke. I gathered my own arousal on my fingers and smeared it over his tip to mix it with his pre-cum and used the mixture to lube my strokes. With each stroke, his kiss became more hungry and he moved his fingers faster and more deliberately, until finally, he decided enough was enough and pulled away from my lips.
“Oh my God, is it finally happening?” Dabi asked no one, a teasing lilt to his voice, though it had an underlying excitement.
“I think so, dude.” Natsuo responded, sounding almost exasperated but had poorly concealed excitement lacing his words. Enji pulled my hand away from his length and moved to try and position my heat over him to sink me down. Try being the operative word. We had managed to position me to hover over his cock but in the position we were in, I couldn’t properly sink down or even get him to enter me. I whined in frustration and looked at him desperate and needy to be filled.
“Don’t worry, Little Flame, I’ll take care of you.” The behemoth of a man promised me and sealed it with a kiss before he grabbed my hips firmly and lifted me up as he stood. I squealed in surprise and gripped his shoulders for balance before he set me down.
“Enji..?” I asked, wondering what he wanted me to do next. He smirked at how I looked to him for instruction, likely the action had pleased his dominance.
“Good girl, looking to Daddy for instruction. Bend over, against the chair.” He said, the smirk still present on his red and swollen lips. Dabi and Natsuo both snickered at their father but I hardly paid mind to it in my desperation to be filled by Enji’s fat cock. I quickly complied and bend myself over the arm of the chair, facing the brothers who had their gaze locked on the scene before them. Quickly after I got into the proper position, Enji got behind me and grabbed my hip with one hand and used the other to press his tip to my sopping hole.
He grabbed my other hip and pushed in and bottomed out with one hard thrust, pulling back on my hips to bring my hips flush with his. I moaned loudly when his cock buried so deep inside me and filled me better and more than Shouto ever had. His lean muscle had nothing on his father’s hulking form that encompassed me so wholly.
“F-fuck-! So.. So fucking big…” I whimpered out, the burn of the stretch was just this side of painful. I felt more than heard Enji’s low chuckle vibrating through my body, starting from my cunt, where we were connected.
“I’ll bet he never filled you up like this, huh? Certainly not recently. He truly is incompetent for throwing away such a perfect good girl.” He growled out, grinding his hips against mine to accentuate his point.
“No-! Kami no, he could never fill me up like this!” I cried out when he pulled back only a bit to roughly rut his hips against my ass, his balls slapping against my clit. I moaned loudly when he started moving, pulling back and thrusting back in. His cock dragged along my twitching walls and it felt like heaven. He sped up his thrusts and began pounding into me, jolting me forward and making my ass ripple against his forceful hips and my tits jiggle.
“Fuck-! Daddy! Feels- Feels so good~!” I moaned lewdly and felt his rhythm falter when the sound of the door cut through the living room and I stiffened up at the knowledge that my cheating Ex-Fiancé was here. In the house that his father was currently fucking me in.
“I’m home!” Shouto announced his arrival and I could hear the shuffling of him taking his shoes off and transferring to house slippers before he would start heading down the entry hall. Enji manhandled me easily to lift me to my knees on the armchair for just a moment before gripping the backs of my thighs to pick me up. My back was pressed to his chest and he continued his thrusts with a new vigor.
“You ready to show him what he’s missing, Little Flame? How much he fucked up?” The man at my back growled into my ear, kissing just below my lobe and biting the juncture of my neck and shoulder. He never stopped his thrusts, fucking up into me. I nodded hurriedly, suppressing a whine as I clenched around him and shot my grip to his forearms and dug my nails in.
“Yo, Shouto! We’re in the living room!” Dabi called smugly to his youngest brother, shooting me a smirk and a wink. ‘You can do this, princess.’ He mouthed to me with a nod. Even with Enji giving me mind-numbing pleasure, I managed to nod back.
I heard the shuffle of Shouto coming down the hallway and tried to prepare myself. I let myself focus on the drag of Enji’s cock on my walls to relax my stiff body before I let myself moan out just as Shouto was turning the corner. At the noise, his eyes widened and shot to me. To me in his father’s grasp, his cock pumping in and out of me.
“What the fuck..?!” He gasped. At first, I had been anxious, a twisting in my gut at the situation, at what would happen, but that melted away when anger replaced it. Burning rage twisted in my chest when I saw that he had the gall to look upset, to look hurt.
“Sh- aah- Shouto.. Hey.” I greeted as casually as I could with a cock slamming into me, reaching my cervix and even feeling like it would almost bust through it.
“What… What the hell are you doing?!” Shouto asked, looking bewildered.
“Haahh..! Welcome home~!” I called out in a whiny voice, preparing myself to reveal that I know he’s a lying, cheating bastard, “How’s Momo?” I asked cheekily.
“Wha.. Momo..?” The bastard tried to mask panic for confusion which only fueled the fire of my anger.
“Yea, did she- Oh fuck!- Did she feel good? Does she feel better than me? I guess she does if- if you’ve been fucking her rather than your own fiancé.” I stated through moans and my voice shaking from Enji bouncing me eagerly on his dick.
“Wh-what..? I- Fuck. Y/n I can explain. Please just- I’m sorry! It wasn’t supposed to-” He began to plead, a desperate look on his face that both made me even more pissed yet also like I wanted to hear him out, like maybe that meant he didn’t mean it and that he would come back. Enji must have seen, or sensed, or something, that I was feeling so as he nipped at the shell of my ear.
“Don’t do that, Little Flame. Don’t let yourself fall. Remember what he did, why you’re here,” he muttered into my ear and kissed my jaw softly as he slowed his thrusts to deliberately drag his cock against my sweet spot. Quickly, I remembered exactly that and steeled myself once more.
“Explain what? That you were fucking my best friend? That you fucking cheated on me? Were you fucking her the whole time? Before you fucking proposed to me? Before you promised yourself to me? Promised to love me for the rest of our lives?” I asked angrily, my fingernails digging into his father’s arms harder.
“I- Baby, please. Just come here and talk to me. Please just- just stop.” He begged, pointedly not answering, giving me my answer.
“Fuck. You.” I panted, feeling my climax building with each time Enji rammed into my g-spot. “You don’t get to act all hurt. You broke my fucking heart, you bastard. You fucking cheated on me and then had the fucking audacity to propose to me and act like you loved me. Did you ever fucking love me? Or were you using me?” I demanded, tears pricking my eyes. I chose to believe that they were from Enji fucking me so fucking good rather than letting myself know that they were from the pain I was experiencing all over again from the man in front of me.
“Of course I did! Please, Y/n, baby, I do love you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry…” The bi-coloured man continued to beg with me.
“I don’t- oh Kami- I don’t fucking believe you. You piece of- Oh fuck!- You piece of shit!” I yelled at him.
“That’s right, Little Flame. I’ve got you. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Daddy’s got you,” Enji purred, purposely loud enough for Shouto to hear. Shouto tried to glare at his father but it was more defeated than truly pissed and spiteful.
“Ah-! Yes-! Yes, Daddy! I know.. I know you’ve got me… Oh Kami you feel so fucking good… So full. So fucking big…” I rambled on, shifting from taunting Shouto to losing myself to the pleasure of Enji pounding into me.
Shouto stood at the mouth of the hallway and looked torn between staying and watching, maybe even continuing to plead his case, and leaving. The turmoil filled me with a sense of satisfaction. He was fighting a war in his head and it pleased me to no end. Now he knew even a sliver of what I felt when I found out he’d been fucking my best friend— Ex best friend. I would have made more taunting remarks at him had I not been nearly overwhelmed by my approaching orgasm and Enji fucking me dumb.
“Fuck! Enji- Daddy! I’m close... I’m so.. so fucking close-!” I cried out, my hips bucking against him. He released a pleased growl next to my ear and bit and sucked on my neck possessively.
“Go ahead, Little Flame, cum on my cock. Cum on my cock and I’ll fill you up. I’ll breed you so full, fuller than you’ve ever been.” He hummed to me and taunted Shouto further.
I let myself forget about the fucker in front of me and only focus on the pleasure coursing through me and the tightening knot in my belly. The knot pulled tighter and tighter and tighter until it finally snapped and I came— hard. Harder than I have in years. Harder than I have since before I started dating Shouto.
My orgasm gushed around him and he roared a moan at the tightness of my cunt constricting so hard around him. Around his fat cock. As his hips came up to slam hard into me, he used gravity and his grip on my thighs to bring me down even harder as he came. His tip slammed so hard into my cervix I was certain he truly had busted through. Ropes and ropes of white hot cum gushed into me, almost like lava in my lower belly with how hot his cum was. I cried out in a whorish moan at the feeling of him pumping me so full of his cum. His cum filled my walls and my womb yet it was still too much. His jizz proceeded to leak out of me, squeezing between the taut stretch of my pussy and his thick cock to drip down his balls.
“Fuck… That was hot and rewarding.” Dabi smirked, fisting his spent dick. I didn’t know when he had pulled it out or even when he started jacking off but the sight was fucking hot. His chest heaving and cum splattered over his fist and his toned belly. When he had taken off his shirt I wasn’t sure but I was silently appreciative. His intricate tattoos spread down further than his shirt had allowed me to see and they were even in other places, including leading below the waistband of his pants. His bare chest exposed his nipple piercings I had heard about and it filled me with an exhausted excitement.
“Very.” I breathed, smirking at him as I laid limply against Enji’s chest, “Though I might take you up on your offer later, too.” I teased, though it held actual consideration.
“Oh, believe me, princess, if you do, you will not regret it.” He smirked wolfishly back at me with a wink that would have made heat bloom in my cheeks had they not already been flushed from the situation and Enji’s rough fucking. Shouto stood for another moment, looking defeated and hurt before he turned and marched down the hall back to the Genkan.
“Wait-!” Natsuo started but was cut off by Dabi putting a hand up, “What..?”
“Let him go running back to his whore. That way, Y/n will have time to recover before we go.” Dabi explained, glaring at the spot his brother had been.
“Go..? Go where?” Natsuo asked, lost.
“Go after him, duh. Don’t you remember the plan? We’re gonna set him and his slut on fire.” The raven-haired man smirked evilly. It made me happy that he was so serious about that but it also filled me with concern that he was so serious about it.
“Okay, no. We are not setting anyone on fire. You can get revenge some other way, just without the pyromania.” Enji instructed as he sat back down in the armchair and let my legs rest more comfortably. He wrapped his arms around me loosely and pressed soft kisses to my shoulder and neck, leading up to my jaw before lifting a hand to turn my head for a sweet kiss to my lips. I giggled against his lips and happily relaxed into him as I indulged in the kiss.
“Ugh, fine, Old Man… Killjoy,” Dabi said, practically pouting. “We’ll just have to ruin him or something. Get the evidence out and let him be his own downfall.” He shrugged halfheartedly, clearly not pleased by the relatively docile plan.
“Maybe we can fuck up his car, too. Go full Carrie Underwood on him.” I suggested and that got his attention, his expression lighting up, making me laugh.
“Perfect. First, though, we gotta get you off the Old Man’s dick and cleaned up.” He smirked and raised a brow at my blushing face. Wordlessly, Natsuo handed his brother a box of tissues as he pulled out his phone to pull up the evidence he had found that he had wanted to tell me about the night before.
“I got enough here to send to the media, but if you really want to make it stick for a while, you might want to get some more.” He stated casually, happy to help me get revenge on his younger brother. I smiled at the family all helping me and already started planning ways to thank them.
Home-cooked meals seemed like a good start.
— — —
𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:
Crossed out if I can’t tag you for some reason!
@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18
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wonhes · 4 months ago
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WARNINGS: SUGGESTIVE JOKES, LIGHT MAKE OUT SESSION, READER SITS ON SOHEE’S LAP (idk if that should even be a warning but just in case 😭)
DISCLAIMER: please keep in mind ALL cloud 9 characters are FICTIONAL. i’m never claiming any of the riize members are like how i’m writing them out to be in this series. if you don’t like how i’m portraying a member please simply stop reading and scroll away. thank you! 🤍
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☁︎ — 7:28 PM MAY 31, 2024
looking at the mirror one last time, you quickly turn off the restroom light and move to go open the front door. at the sight of SOHEE standing in front of you, you immediately let go of the door handle and rush towards him.
meanwhile, sohee stood there rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. at the realization that the door was now open, he looks up at you and sends you a nervous smile.
“pretty girl-” he begins but is completely caught off guard with the feeling of your arms wrapping around his waist. tightly wrapping your arms around him, you rest your head on his chest. stumbling backwards a bit, sohee quickly regains his balance before dropping what he had in his hands and making way to wrap his arms around you.
“your heart is beating really fast,” you mumble after a while, slightly moving your head from his chest to take a peek at him. with rosy cheeks, sohee lets out a small chuckle and nods his head at you.
“for you,” sohee responds back. “it only ever beats fast for you.”
smiling up at him, you move over to place a kiss on his cheek and slowly remove your arms from his waist. not wanting to let go of you, sohee quickly moves a hand to grab on to yours. quickly looking down at your hands, you gently intertwine your fringes with his before taking a small step backwards to get a better view of him.
“i’m sorry,” you say, causing sohee to immediately scrunch up his face in utter confusion.
“no,” he shakes his head at you. “i’m the one who’s sorry.”
“pretty boy-” you start, only for sohee to continue shaking his head at your words.
“you have every right to be upset.” he states as he lightly squeezes your hand.
“pretty girl i’ve never-” he quietly continues. sohee finds himself avoiding eye contact, embarrassed on what he’s about to say.
“i may not know what i’m doing but what i do know is that i want you.” he says, shifting his focus back on you. “i want to keep learning more about you and what you like and don’t like,” he begins ranting. “i’ve never done this before—“ he lets out a shaky sigh. “but i really want this with you. i want to learn. i may be confused right now, not fully knowing how to navigate this but i really do want this. i want this with you. i want you.” he slightly repeats himself, trying his best not to stutter as he gives your hand another tight squeeze.
“i’m sorry it took me forever to realize i was upsetting you, i swear i didn’t do it on purpose. i didn’t mean to ignore you, or make it seem like if i was putting anton before you. i was hanging out with him to try and get him to be okay with us dating. i didn’t fully understand what was happening until it was too late. i didn’t know he was rubbing it in your face. i never meant to-”
“pretty boy-”
“no, pretty. please listen,” sohee pouts at you. “i didn't mean to hurt you and god i am so sorry that i hurt you-”
“sohee,” you let go of his hand to place both of your hands on his cheeks. “look at me,” you mumble out.
“we’re okay,” you say, causing sohee to immediately shake his head at you. “pretty boy, i was jealous because you kept hanging out with anton and ignoring me-” you sigh as you look up at him.
“it wasn’t on purpose,” sohee cuts you off, sadly eyeing you.
smiling at him, you nod at him before continuing. “i didn’t know it was because you were trying to get on his good side.”
“he’s your brother, pretty. i want him to like me enough for him to like the idea of us dating,” he mumbles shyly.
“pretty boy-”
“don't get mad but i also showed him our texts so he could help me figure out what else might be wrong.” sohee immediately scrunches up his face and closes his eyes to avoid seeing your reaction.
gasping at his sudden confession, you bring both hands to cover your mouth. “sohee,” you say in disbelief.
hesitantly opening his eyes, sohee tries his best to not mumble how cute you look with your current expression. “pretty girl, he’s my best friend,” sohee tries reasoning with you.
shaking your head at him, you bring a hand up in the air to let him know to give you a moment. “my brother saw my down bad texts,” you mumble out in complete horror. “oh my god.”
biting his bottom lip to stop himself from letting out a small chuckle, he brings his hand to grab yours once more and gently caresses your hand with his thumb.
“pretty, he saw my down bad texts too,” sohee tries making you feel better. “but thanks to him i realized what was going on.”
looking up at him confused, you tilt your head at him waiting for him to continue. “i’m sorry for not catching on to your hints. i honestly didn’t even know they were hints. i was too busy focusing on getting anton to like me again and i just- in my head it doesn’t make sense that you would want to hang out with me so i didn’t read too much into them,” he quietly added. at his confession, you soften your expression.
“pretty boy, i like you. of course i’m going to want to hang out with you. i don’t want just texts or phone calls or facetime calls,” you say pouting at him. “i want you. i want to see you, physically. i want to learn everything about you too.” you ended, smiling at him before slightly tugging at his hand. “let’s go inside?” brightly smiling down at you, he nods at your words.
“wait!” he suddenly says causing you to stop your movements. “pretty girl i dropped your flowers,” sohee sadly states as he bends down to pick up the bouquet. pouting at you, he looks down at the flowers once more and takes notice of their current state.
“pretty boy,” you giggle out, trying to take the bouquet from his hand.
“my pretty girl deserves pretty flowers, i’m so sorry. when you hugged me i just threw them on the ground without thinking,” he sadly mumbles, looking at you with big sincere eyes.
“pretty boy,” you chuckle at his expression. moving a hand to cup his cheek, you bring his focus back to you. “i think they’re beautiful.”
“i think you’re more beautiful,” he quickly says back, in a complete daze. blushing at his compliment, you send him a small shy smile.
“i’m going to kiss you, if that’s okay-” you start telling him only for him to quickly nod at you.
“yes!” he immediately answers back. “more than okay.”
giggling at his reaction, you move to stand closer to him. looking at his eyes before looking down at his lips, you move your hand to the back of his neck to softly bring him closer to you. standing up straighter, you lean forward and slowly close your eyes. at the sight of you nearing closer to him, sohee looks down at your lips before closing his eyes and slightly tilting his head and closing the gap between you two.
placing a small peck on his lips, you gently move away and offer sohee a smile only for him to immediately crash his lips against yours for another kiss.
with your lips now touching his once more, you find yourself letting go of his hand to place it on his chest. bringing a hand up to your chin, sohee continues kissing you back causing you to slowly move your hand and place it behind his neck. with both hands on his neck now, you move one towards his scalp and gently run your fingers through his hair as you deepen the kiss.
feeling your hands on him and you lightly tugging on his bottom lip, sohee immediately drops the bouquet of flowers yet again, and brings a hand to your waist to pull you closer to him, if even possible. giggling at his urgency, you give him one last peck before moving away, causing sohee to let out a small whine in protest.
“let’s go inside, yeah?” you breathlessly ask, bringing a hand to his arm to guide him towards the door.
“pretty girl,” sohee whines causing you to stop walking and look back at him. pouting at you, he looks down before shifting his focus on you. “i dropped your flowers again,” he pouts, annoyed with himself.
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☁︎ — 8:56 PM MAY 31, 2024
with sohee sitting on your bed, you bring a hand up to run your fingers through his hair.
“my favorite chocolate bar is milky way by the way,” you randomly state as you move to peck his lips.
“hm?” sohee confusedly asks. unsatisfied with the small peck, sohee puckers out his lips, silently asking you for another one.
“i only want you buying me my favorite chocolate bar so i’m telling you what it is,” you giggle at his expression, moving forward to place a kiss on his nose.
“anything else i should know?” sohee asked, smiling up at you as he places his hands on your waist.
“hm, i also really like you,” you chuckle out, watching as his cheeks turn a dark shade of red. embarrassed at your confession, sohee hides his face on your chest and pulls you closer to him by hugging your waist.
“can you feel it?” you gently whisper out. “my heart.” you add.
“it’s beating really fast,” sohee states. looking up at you from his current position.
“yeah, because of you,” you state, softly smiling down at him. with a big smile on his face, sohee places a kiss on your collarbone.
“i really want to kiss you again,” sohee admits. he wants nothing more than to feel your lips against his, especially now knowing that you like him just as much as he likes you.
“nobody is stopping you,” you whisper out, gently bringing yourself to sit on his lap. with your legs now resting on each side of his hips, you shyly smile at him. “is this okay?”
“more than okay,” SOHEE mumbles back before placing his lips against your own.
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☁︎ — CLOUD 9
CHAPTER 27 — pretty flowers
summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.
<- BACK | NEXT ->
CLOUD 9 MASTERLIST
˚౨ৎ˚ taglist — @acidwon @astro-doll-the-star @addorations @aeoliannie @bbina @cake1box @callanton @calumsfringe @d3junlys @emohoon @ffixtionista @gyehyeonist @haeeeeefer @hakkkuu @hisrkive @https-yeonjun @i0134 @idkhoomanmaybe @jeeluv @jiaisfox @angelseokjinie @kaelysian @keilovr @lakoya @lcvehee @lecheugo @llearlert @lostinneocity @miyawwn @molensworld @nishimuraii @nujeskz @odxrilove @parkwonbinie @renjuneoo @riizewrld @rksbae @rosesfortaro @saranghoeforanton @secretiny @seunghancore @shoberi @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @st4rryhae @sunflowerbebe07 @spookybias @talk022 @totheseok @whatsk-poppinhomies @whoisgwyn @wonbin-truther @ywnzn
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reshinless · 1 month ago
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thorny arrival. sunday x dom!gn!reader. I didn't finish the story quest for hsr, I just know the characters + their backstories.
warnings: I used the terms cock/etc for reader but you can imagine it as strap as well 🪽
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when your boyfriend shows off his newest outfit, you wouldn't admit but it was definitely attractive.
especially when you saw him out and about, fighting along side you. where did those thorns come from? you have no idea, yet it's what led you both to now.
"a- ahhn- fffuck!!" he moaned out, so much so for sultry, this definitely could be it's definition. you acknowledged how lewd it was, his hands above his head tied with the very vines of thorny assault to his wrists as you only turned the toy inside him up more.
"'m sorry.. i- i really am- nnhh-" the whines of his voice go unheard as you temporarily lowered the intensity using the remote. "you knew what you were doing, baby." your hand ran over his erection momentarily, rubbing you thumb over the slit of his cock, lifting your hand back up to taste the saltiness.
he looked as if he was in a frenzy—which was partly true. his sons were loud, as you briefly parted his mouth using one of your hands, caressing his bottom lip with your thumb—the same one you used to have a little taste with.
you gave him a rough kiss one the mouth, he tasted a lot sweeter than how nasty the head of his cock looked at you.
it drooled, veins popped up. shit was it a sight to see.
"look at this tip, so fuckin' naughty." a pang of pain was slapped across his base, making him shudder, only getting even more turned on.
your finger just... oops! I guess it slipped. turning the toy up to the third most intense setting before setting it down to take things into your own hands (literally)
the touch of your cold fingertips that slowly warmed up, feeling his cock up and down, he couldn't help but suddenly arch his back at the sudden contact. especially with the extra vibration to add onto his pleasure.
maybe he wouldn't mind the feeling of being overwhelmed with all these new feelings. you knew it'd calm him right back down anyway.
"haaah- fffuck- mmf!" is all you could hear emit from the small background noise that resembled white noise when it was actually the toy, his moans, and whimpers interrupting your train for though every now and then.
"tryna warm up real nice with that new trailblazer, are you now?" you crept up to his ear, lifting him up briefly by his waist to place his figure onto your lap.
"c'mon, tell me. or are you too busy getting fucked dumb by a toy?" he couldn't even reply to your sassy remarks, simply leaning his head into the slot next to your neck.
"m- mmhmm... m'sorry I r- really am... please." his pleads fell on deaf ears as you only admired his body, and how it reacted in the mirror. you sensed he was about to peak when you decide to take it away all of a sudden.
"ahhn- p- please! fffuck I'll be good, I swear."
you hum, kissing his cheek gently. "promise?" is all you muttered out, by the time his orgasm already went away. he sighs pensively. slowly starting to drag your palm over his cock once more, making him start to whimper again.
"y...yeah I really do. please? need you inside—" and before he knows it, you already have him flipped onto his stomach, his ass up in the air for you, cock only throbbing harder at the sound of your belt unbuckling.
definitely in for a treat now!
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bonny-kookoo · 10 months ago
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Jungkook
Princess | Intro/ Part 01
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There's more to it than what meets the eye.
Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues, mentions of depression
Length: 6.5k Words
-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Jungkook hates loosing.
And that’s especially true when it comes to bets- because he also can’t really pass up any opportunity to show off and be the best at something. So when he took on the bet with Jimin, he didn’t think anything of it- after all, even if he lost, he could still simply teach that so-called ‘puppy’ Jimin was supposed to be working with a killer choreo and make his way on top either way.
What Jimin failed to tell him, however, was that you are an absolute menace.
Not only are you spoiled to high heavens and dressed head to toe in pretty designer pieces designed and tailored just for you, no- your attitude is making him want to throw himself into a busy road to be run over by any moving vehicle willing to do so. It’s been not even thirty minutes he’s spent in the meeting room, and he already regrets his big mouth with Jimin.
But maybe it’s just a bad first impression. Maybe, you’re just having a bad day.
“So, basically, we’ve got four weeks to make it work.” Your manager says, having finished his plan as he stands at the end of the table everyone is sitting at, you included- though you clearly do not listen to the conversations happening at all, instead occupied with a game on your switch console, decorated in plastic gemstones and cute stickers, sound not even all the way down as to not interrupt anyone.
Jungkook feels his blood boiling. Can’t you at least attempt to listen? After all, it’s your career that’s on the line.
“I’ll need the possible song choices she made, and I also gotta get a copy of the guidelines and what the judges generally look for. Doesn’t have to be today, but I’d like to have it before we start making anything up.” Jungkook offers, arms crossed. You’ve not even looked at him once today.
If he just went by looks, you’d actually be quite cute- you're clearly taking good care of yourself, and you fall right into the category of hybrid girl he’d see himself interested in- but your character seems to be the exact opposite, as you stare down at the small screen in your hands, lashes long, hiding your gaze a little from him.
“We can totally do that.” Your manager says. “I- uhm.. Are you okay with that too?” He asks towards you, and you simply take in a deep breath before you sigh, shoulders shrugging and head somewhat nodding. Your eyes however never break away from your game, instead, you just adjust your seating postition a little before you become completely detached from the situation again. “I’m sorry about that. She’s.. Having a bad day.” Your manager justifies.
Jungkook smells the lie right away.
“Practice will start at 7 AM then-” Jungkook starts, and that seems to catch your attention as your face turns into a frown. “-And we’ll practice the whole week, except weekends.”
“That’s too early.” You mumble, grumbling down at your game while your legs stretch out under the table, feet brushing against his shins. You’re not wearing shoes, only your knee-high socks, having discarded the slip on’s early on for no apparent reason other than comfort.
“She usually sleeps until.. 11 so..” Your manager starts, and Jungkook has to swallow a growl.
“8.” He says sternly, staring at you who scoffs down at your hands. “She’ll have to get up earlier then.” He decides, making you lift your chin a little, before you save your game, turn off the console and put it on the table, your arms now crossed as well as you finally, for the first time, look at him.
The fire in your eyes could seriously burn someone if it was to be manifested into a real flame, he decides.
“You’ll have to wait until I show up then.” You answer him, and his eyes narrow, feeling challenged. But before he can respond, your manager seems to sense the growing tension between you two, as he dissolves the meeting quickly to have you driven back home.
Jungkook however, can’t let go this easily.
“You forgot to tell me that she’s an absolute bitch.” Jungkook growls into his phone, sitting on his couch with the TV on but on mute. “There’s no way I’ll be working with her for four weeks without committing a crime.” He threatens, and Jimin has the audacity to laugh.
“Oh Jungkookie, don’t let her fool you!” He laughs. “She’s a literal angel, believe me. She just acts all tough.”
“Or she was just interested in you.” Jungkook denies. “I’ve spent barely an hour with her and I already know She’s gonna be a handful to manage.” He sighs.
“Come on now, she’s what? Half your size?” Jimin playfully exaggerates. “Just put her in timeout, big guy, and you’ll be fine.” He jokes, very much aware of Jungkook’s rather dominant nature due to his wolfblood. And while the joke is funny, it’s also a problem.
Jungkook doesn’t know if he can really stay calm while working with you. And his career could be over in a second if he so much as lashes out at you verbally- because no way would someone work with a hybrid choreograph or dancer who can’t keep his cool. He already has issues getting some gigs due to his wolfblood mixed in- one mistake and he can surely put his career to rest.
He really regrets taking on this bet now.
Hopefully this won’t end too badly.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You really do not turn up at 8 like he told you to.
He’s impatiently waiting in the practice room, your manager and stylist and other staff already present- everyone trying to get a hold of you with no luck at all. It’s only until an hour later that another staff member informs everyone that you’ve finally woken up, and that you’re currently on your way to the practice room.
Jungkook is pissed, to say the least.
If you work like this the entire four weeks, there’s no way he can manage to push a good choreography into your head that you can pull off properly on stage. And if you fail, it’ll be on him- and he just can’t accept that. Hopefully, you’ll warm up to the idea of actually putting effort into this.
Hopefully.
When you finally turn up, you don’t appear to be sorry at all- still somewhat asleep and in no way ready to start practicing anytime soon. Instead, you sit down and take out your breakfast to eat, while your stylist runs a brush through your hair. But what’s odd about this, is more or less that Jungkook can sense a total shift in energy right now.
It’s like they’re shielding you, giving him no access to you until they deem the timing alright.
And you just robotically eat your little breakfast, while everyone else scatters around you, rushing from spot to spot. Jungkook isn’t too sure what exactly might be happening- but then again, it’s also not unusual to see such a scene. You’re a showhybrid after all- meant to look pretty at all times and in every living moment just in case there’s a camera around. And he knows that the practice is going to be filmed occasionally for some behind the scenes content for your fanbase- which is why you have your stylist around in the first place. You’re just supposed to look like you’re not wearing any makeup at all.
No one wants to see reality, because reality is what everyone can witness if they look in the mirror. And that’s boring. That’s not entertaining. That’s not something to be jealous of, or something to admire.
In a way, Jungkook starts to feel a bit sorry for you. Do you ever have a moment for yourself?
Either way, the moment the cameras start running, you switch character almost instantly. Suddenly you’re polite, soft spoken and determined to get every step right- though your true nature does poke it’s head through on occasion, especially when you can’t get something quite right the first or second try.
“Maybe we need to work on how to keep to the beat first.” Jungkook suggests, and at that, you seem to break, sighing with an agitated groan as your tail unravels, falling limp behind you. He’s not seen this happen often- his best friend Yoongi being a dog-hybrid with a curled tail as well, who can be quite grumpy most of the time. But even he never has his tail this.. Lifeless.
It’s unnerving to see.
“I’m not lobotomized, mutt.” You groan, making the manager motion to cut the cameras for a second. “I can keep to a beat, you’re just shit at teaching.” You growl to yourself, sitting down stubbornly as you visibly try and mask the fact that you’re out of breath.
Truth be told, Jungkook isn’t technically a choreographer. He usually works with professional dancers or simply follows whatever he’s given by an artist themselves- so yes, he might actually be a little rusty when it comes to teaching others.
Do you have to be so rude about it though? No.
“Well we’re going around in circles like this.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ll get us something to drink. Try and calm down a bit..” He attempts to soothe your temper, as he leaves the practice room- mostly so that he himself can escape the situation for a moment.
He’s not sure what it is. Maybe your scent full of anger and fear filling the space so much that it feels like it’s drowning him in the room, or the fact that you always have to be so rude-
Wait.
Fear?
Alarmed by that, Jungkook walks a bit faster with the water bottles in hand to get back into the room- just to find you not there anymore, everyone looking at him as if they’re surprised to see him back already. “Where is she?” Jungkook asks, and your manager blinks a little, caught off guard.
“She went to get something to drink.” He states, making Jungkook frown.
“I said I’m gonna get us some. Why did she go by herself?” Jungkook asks. “She doesn’t even know where the vending machines are.”
“She said you were taking too long.” A stylist mentions. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I was gone for not even five minutes?” He growls to himself, before he hears you enter the room again, a small juicebox in hand that you punch the tiny straw into. “Don’t just run off.” He scolds you.
You roll your eyes.
“Yeah alright, Daddy.” You scoff, walking past him to sit in a corner- actually facing it for some reason, your back turned towards everyone else.
“Ah, don’t be alarmed.” Your manager explains. “She.. Sometimes does this. We don’t know either why, and we don’t really question it either. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be right back to practice.” He beams at him, and Jungkook feels weirdly played.
Something’s odd here.
But it’s also none of his business.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
The next day, you’re not there on time again.
And despite the fact that Jungkook had told you no food in the practice room was allowed, you clearly disregarded that as nothing but background noise, while you take out your bag of foods in the middle of the large room.
“I said no food in the practice room.” Jungkook scolds, walking towards you to stand right in front of you, arms crossed. “and you’re also late again. Two hours to be exact.”
“You said no food.” You shrug, lifting up the small bag of puffed rice crisps. “That’s snacks.” You respond, making him narrow his eyes and clench his jaw.
“put it to the side.” He says. “You’re here to practice, not to eat.” He reminds you, able to talk freely with almost none of your staff around today.
“can’t practice on an empty stomach.” You respond however, letting yourself fall into your bag, before you take out your phone to scroll on it while you eat your snacks- crumbs already littering the floor. “Why’s your wifi so shit in here?” You mumble to yourself, when suddenly, the signal stops entirely. “Hey, your internet cut off-“ you start, before you spot him putting his phone down. “Turn it back on-“
“Since you’re acting like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” He simply says. “wifi stays off until you practiced.” He scolds, boldly taking both your snacks and your phone from you to put it on a table close by, the act alone catching you so off guard that it has you frozen in place while you process it. “Do you want to get up yourself or do I need to help you with that as well?” He asks, and you glare at him.
“Touch me and I’ll sue you.” You threaten, and he watches you for a moment as if to see if you’re serious- before he decides you’re clearly not, with the way your tail slightly twitches, clearly needing to be consciously held down by yourself to not wag.
“Alright that’s it.” He simply tells you before he walks towards you, and much to his dismay, you let yourself fall limply down onto the ground as if you’re trying to become liquid. “You’re being ridiculous right now-“
“let me have the wifi again!” You just huff. “and my snacks. I’m hungry.” You argue.
“get up earlier tomorrow and have breakfast then.” He shakes his head, before he grabs your wrists to lift you into a sitting position. But the moment he lets go, you’ve flopped back down again, lips twitching.
Now your tail is wagging, clearly.
“so that’s what you’re after, huh?” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “too bad. I’m not playing your game.” He says, before he walks to the side where all his stuff is, changing his shoes.
“wait- What’re you doing?” You ask, watching him tie his sneakers.
“going home.” He answers without looking. “were clearly not getting anywhere.”
You sigh, groaning out lout before you angrily hit the floor-
Getting up to walk towards him, pulling his jacket from his hands before you let it fall onto the table. “I wanna practice.” You pout.
“What a bummer, princess.” He answers, taking his jacket back to slip it on. “I don’t. Now get your stuff, and then-“ He tells you, walking closer before he points to the door behind you. “-get out.” He demands.
And you just angrily huff at yourself, doing just that.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You fail to get to practice on time again the day after.
And the day after that.
But on friday, Jungkook has finally had enough of your poor excuses and frankly stupid behavior.
"Why is she late this time?" Jungkook asks your staff, jaw clenched as he's already frustrated again. You're clearly not taking this seriously, and he honestly doesn't know how anyone else has ever managed to work with you in any way.
"We're.. not sure." Your manager says, face showing his own shame about your behavior. "She turned her phone off, we can't reach her."
That's it.
Jungkook can understand a lot of things. You're used to being spoiled and having everything set in front of you on a silver platter- he gets that. Sometimes, people's minds can be poisoned by wealth and success. But turning off your phone? That's too far.
What if something actually happened? What if you're sick, in need of help, in danger? This is absolutely ridiculous behaviour, and he does not care anymore. "She said she lives in the city here, right?" Jungkook asks, and the manager nods. "Alright, where exactly?" He wonders, and a stylist of yours calls out your address.
And that sets him off even further- because you barely live ten minutes away from him. Which means there's not even a single reason as to why you would be late at all.
"What are you going to do?" Your manager worries as Jungkook changes his shoes and slips on his jacket, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle.
"I'm getting her myself."
If there’s one thing Jungkook hates, then it’s people isolating themselves just for their own convenience. It’s mainly due to his best friend years back doing that constantly- turning off his phone to get some quiet time for himself, until he actually did end up being in trouble.
And when someone tried to call him, and couldn’t get a hold of him, they just thought ‘It’s probably one of those days again.’
If Jungkook didn’t go against his better judgement, if he didn’t end up checking up on him despite his mind telling him that it was for nothing, Yoongi would not be alive today.
He rings your doorbell multiple times, annoyingly so to get you to stand up at some point. There’s no way you can sleep through that, especially when he starts angrily knocking onto your door. Suddenly, you open it, staring at him with eyes barely open. “What.” You ask, and Jungkook takes a look at you for a second.
You’ve clearly been asleep, but you don’t look rested at all- eyes barely open as you glare at him, and funnily enough, one of your ears is even a bit floppy- not quite entirely down, but also no standing as straight as it usually does. “You’re late.” Jungkook scolds. You attempt to close the door again, making him attempt something dangerous.
He puts his hand in between the door.
But, maybe Jimin wasn’t so wrong after all, because you immediately open the door again, now wide awake as you look at his hand, worried you might’ve hurt him. Only when you don’t find anything you push his palm back towards him, and cross you arms.
“Come on.” He says, nodding towards the hallway behind him.
“No.” You deny.
“What do you mean, no?’ he asks, agitated.
“I said no. I don’t wanna.” You answer, walking back into your apartment- and with your door left open, he takes it as an invitation to walk inside.
The second he closes the door and turns around, he’s in shock.
Cardboard boxes, trash bags, crumpled papers and wrappings all over the place. Shoes litter the entrance area, your coats are thrown over the chairs at your open kitchen which sink is filled with unwashed dishes. The windows are shut, curtains heavy as they hide the mess in your home from the outside world. It’s so dark that Jungkook feels like if he wasn’t a hybrid, he most likely wouldn’t be able to see where he’s stepping at all.
How long have you been living like this?
The apartment isn’t big, there doesn’t seem to be many rooms at all. After searching for a bit he finds you curled up in your large bed, pink bedsheets and blankets halfway on the floor while your little gaming console chimes and beeps while you play.
“..come on now, you’ve.. got the weekend off.” Jungkook says. “it’s just today-“
“I said I don’t want to.” You growl, face focused on your game. “now fuck off and leave me.”
Jungkook sighs. This really isn’t any of his business.
But somehow, as he walks back into the main area of the small apartment, he finds himself opening a new trashbag to throw away all the plastic strewn around. He puts your shoes in order, places the garbage bags in a corner to have them out the way, before he rips the cardboard apart to throw away easier later. He’s not sure why he’s doing that- maybe partially to annoy you and get you to get out of bed, or maybe because he pities you.
This isn’t just laziness. From the way you act, to the body language you scream out quietly, to the fact that you don’t seem motivated for anything at all.
This is something deeper.
“What’re you doing?” You growl from a corner, before you walk closer to rip the cardboard box from his hands, throwing it in a corner again. “I told you to fuck off.” You threaten, and he nods.
“heard it loud and clear.” He agrees with crossed arms, and you huff.
“Ears seem to be working then.” You snap. “the mistake must be in your brain.”
“I can assure you it’s working just fine as well.” He answers, and you snarl at that, distinctive canines showing.
“Then why are you still here digging through my shit?!” You bark at him, and he shrugs.
“Because no one deserves to rot away like this.”
It’s quiet at that, for a good moment. The only sound heard is the clock in the kitchen ticking, some faint rain against the windows, and a garbage bag slowly slipping a little from its position. And when it falls to the floor, he catches a short second of your eyes tearing up, before you turn around, looking away from him before you run off into your bedroom-
But the door won’t close with all the clutter, making you angrily growl at it while you try and somewhat pull it close.
Jungkook slowly walks towards you, to pull your hands off of the door handle, making you drop down to the floor in defeat, sitting right on your clothes that are laying on the floor. “leave me alone.” You cry to yourself, head low and hybrid ears even lower as you sit there, kicking away some of the clutter.
The wolfdog hybrid slowly squats down to your level, before he carefully moves a broken jar away from your leg and onto a small table close by. “What’s going on with you?” He finally asks, and you kick your leg again at that, a small box flying through the room.
“I just want to be alone!” You bark. “I don’t want anyone in here, I don’t want to go to practice, I don’t want to do this stupid contest, I don’t want anyone to look at me!” You complain loudly, and Jungkook would easily call this a textbook temper tantrum, if it wasn’t for your clearly desperate tears.
“did you tell your management?” He asks, and you scoff, sniffling.
“as if they care!” You huff. “it’s always just do this, do that, go here, eat that, smile, be nice, film everything.!” You tell him. “I want to go home!” You begin to cry now, hiding your face in your hands.
“Home?” Jungkook wonders, unsure what you mean. Isn’t this your home?
“I just wanna go home..” you continue to cry into your hands. “I wanna go see mom, and dad..” you mumble muffled into your palms, and Jungkook feels terrible seeing you like this. He doesn’t know you, but something is clearly not right. This isn’t acting, because your body language, your scent- everything tells him that you’re in genuine distress.
“Maybe you can visit them?” He wonders, slowly reaching out to put his hand on your knee, offering silent comfort that you, for now, seem to accept. “do they live far away-“
“they won’t let me.” You say. “they told them.. they told them I don’t wanna see them and that I hate them, and now they hate me.” You whimper.
“They?” the wolfdog asks, pushing some clutter to the side to sit down as well.
“the company.” You mumble. “because.. my dad didn’t want me to move away back when.. when I was still a pup.” You say. A pup possibly meaning that you were still underage. “and.. back then, I thought it was for the best. This was such a one-in-a-million chance..” you reveal to him. “I thought it was worth it.”
“Do they threaten you?” Jungkook worries, and you’re quiet for a moment.
“..They’re all I have.” You admit. “my.. my apartment. My money. My name. They own me.” You say, defeat evident in your voice as you slowly calm down again, tension leaving your body. “just.. leave me alone.”
“I cant.” Jungkook denies with a sigh. “not anymore.”
“fuck off-“ you start, grabbing at his hand, but he somehow moves it around, holding yours now instead.
“I won’t.” He sternly says. “Alright? I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out.” He promises, and you look up at him with slightly red eyes, confused.
“Figure out what?” You ask, and he smiles.
“How to bring you home.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You’re very clearly not very happy about Jungkook currently cleaning your apartment with you.
You’re slow and sluggish, and you constantly complain about everything- and Jungkook can somewhat understand it. You’ve quite literally buried yourself in this little cave, having someone take it apart like this must be horribly uncomfortable. But it’s for the best- and you’ll soon realize that.
That doesn’t mean you don’t annoy him, still.
“Come on now, get up.” Jungkook scolds you, as he watches you sit on the couch.
“What?” You complain. “I’m cleaning.. under the coffee table.” You pretend, but he doesn’t take that as an appropriate answer.
“We agreed on one area at a time. We’re still in the kitchen.” He says. “now get over here and help me with the dishes. I wash, you dry.” He decides, making you somewhat reluctantly get up. It’s odd to have anyone in your apartment at all, since not even staff is allowed inside- you constantly find and make up excuses to keep them out at all times. This is your only safe space, after all.
The only place no one is looking at you.
“yesterday..” jungkook slowly says, putting another plate towards you so you can dry it. “..you said that the company owns you.” He remembers, and you nod. “To what degree?”
“I have an independence license.” You say. An independence license is basically a permanent permit to live on your own, and also work on your own. Basically, with it, you don’t need an owner at all. “But.. the company has full control over my finances and such. And they own my, you know, brand name.” You shrug.
“I meant it, you know?” He tells you, draining the sink of the soapy water. “I’ll try and figure something out.”
“Don’t bother.” You simply say. “it doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Jungkook denies, drying his hands on a towel. But you stay silent as you put the dishes away in their proper places, not really sparing him any glance at all again.
Jungkook doesn’t really know yet how to help you. First, he wants to somehow get into contact with your parents and set things right again- maybe he can get their names and phone number from jimin who’s been working you for a good while now. And then, maybe they can help, too.
“I’m tired.” You complain as you sit down on the now finally somewhat clean floor, all the trash in bags and in a corner.
“You can take a nap.” Jungkook agrees, and you look at him with positive surprise.
“wait, really?!” You ask, tail wagging a little.
“sure. You’ve been working hard.” He approves. “and now that your couch isn’t cluttered, you can take a proper nap there.”
“Why not my bed?” You whine, disappointed.
“bed is for proper sleep. Couch is for naps.” He explains. “if you go to bed now you’ll just start rotting again.”
You stay quiet for a good moment, before you speak again, looking out the windows, curtains by now pulled open. Slowly, you walk over to the couch to sit down on, staring at your hands in your lap.
“I’m such a fuck up, am I not?” You sigh. “imagine if people knew how much of a failure I am.”
“You’re not a failure.” Jungkook denies, sitting down next to you on the couch. “just.. a bit lost at the moment.”
“Jungkook..” you say quietly, looking at his chest. “I really want to go home.” You admit, and he smiles softly.
“I know. And I’ll figure out a way, promise.” He offers, opening his arms. And much to his surprise, you take the invitation- even so much as to crawl onto his lap, leaning against his chest with your arms wrapped around him. It’s a lot more than he thought this was going to be, but he also can’t deny that this feels oddly comforting for him too.
And even though your tail is still limp and lifeless, at least you’re starting to open up. And maybe jimin was right after all.
Maybe you’re just acting tough.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Jungkook quickly learns that you really must’ve left home at a very young age- because you’re very much completely lost in translation when it comes to general tasks that fall onto someone when they live alone.
You’ve got no idea how to properly do laundry, you don’t know how to cook at all, and you have no idea what cleaning products to use for what. When he asked you if you had some window cleaner, you’d stared at him for a good second before you asked him why he can’t just use soap- and cooking in your book is simply boiling water for instant noodles.
It’s no wonder your apartment was in the state it was in. No one ever taught you how to look after yourself and your own home.
“Alright?” Jungkook asks while you stare at the washing machine with a determined gaze.
“put the clothes in, put the soap-squishy-thing in, close the door and then set it to that program there.” You repeat. Jungkook nods.
“But-?” He presses, and you stare at him for a second, thinking.
“But...uh..” you try and find an answer. “no colored stuff with white clothes? And no black with colors?” You try, and he grins, tail wagging.
“Good girl. See? You’re not dumb, you just didn’t know.” He praises. “now press start and then we can go laze around a little until it’s done.” He says, making you happily press the start button.
Something that Jungkook has noticed, is that the entire apartment seems oddly.. sterile almost, in that it looks and feels taken straight out of a magazine. You’ve got no thing personal it seems like, no blankets that aren’t a neutral color, no toys, no plushies despite you telling him by now that you love these things. Instead, you only really have your little gaming console and that’s it- your bedroom is mostly taken over by designer clothes and shoes, as well as all sorts of accessories. The bathroom contains shelves full of skincare for face and body, but everything else appears to be not at all to be your personality.
“You can get yourself some new blankets for the couch now that we’ve cleaned up.” Jungkook mentions, but at that you simply begin to pout next to him, legs pulled close to you as you slide down a little, slouching.
“Nah, they’ll say no.” You huff, watching the TV commercial play.
So you really meant it when you said that the company has full control over your money. He believed it might just involve big spendings, which would make sense- but it looks like it more so involves every single purchase you make instead.
“How long is your contract?” He asks, and you shrug.
“I think forever.” You say, flopping to the side, legs hanging off to the floor. “I don’t know.”
“Thats.. not legal.” Jungkook frowns. “did you never renew it?”
“Huh?” Your ears tilt towards him for a second. He still wonders why one of your ears is floppy these days. “..no. I don’t think I ever did.”
“I.. how long have you been with them?” He asks, and you hold your hands in front of you to start counting. And the more fingers you seem to add, the more concerned he becomes.
“Well, I uh.. wait, I left when I was..” you mumble to yourself. “and now that I’m.. I think eleven years?” You answer, looking at him.
The maximum contract length for hybrids is five years.
Five.
“I.. okay, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and you nod, slowly sitting up. “next time you’re at your company’s HQ, try and get a hold of a copy of your contract. But don’t tell anyone what you need it for.” He says.
If he can get a copy of whatever slave contract you’re under, getting you out of it will be easy. There’s strict laws for hybrids in place after all- one can’t just work them like pets, there’s rules every company has to follow. And that is the same in your industry as well.
“am I gonna go to jail?” You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.
“No no, you did nothing wrong.” He denies, reaching out to pet your head- pleasantly surprised when you visibly accept the gesture.
Because he speaks the truth. You did nothing wrong.
You were simply used from the start.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
On Monday, jungkook is standing at your door, 7 AM.
And you really, really do not want to go with him.
“Come on now-“ he urges again, pulling on your fluffy sweater while you cling to the doorframe of your apartment building entrance, having just seen what exactly Jungkook uses as his preferred means of transportation.
“No, you’re not getting me on that death-trap, no way in hell!” You complain, escaping his grasp just for a second before his arms are around your middle, easily removing your fingers from the door with a smile sent towards the security guard as reassurance, before he carries your struggling body towards his Harley. “No!” You complain. “This is kidnapping! Abduction!” You cry out, before he puts the helmet he’d gotten recently on your head, hands fastening the strap beneath your chin before he gets onto the motorcycle as well, sitting in front of you.
And the second it roars to life, you’re clinging to him with arms and legs involved, resulting in Jungkook adjusting your grip a little to not strangle him.
Well- at least he’s not driving fast.
“I hate you.” You complain when he removes the helmet again in the underground parking lot beneath the dance studio, pupils still blown wide, cheeks a bit flushed.
“If you just got up yourself like a big girl, I wouldn’t have to drive you.” He easily tells you, helping you down from the vehicle. “we’ll do this again and again until you learn.” He explains, stepping into the elevator with you- still lowly growling to yourself, pissed off at his attitude.
You’re not a kid. He’s stupid.
But it does work, because at least you somewhat practice with him for a few hours, before you stubbornly lay down starfish style in the middle of the practice room, demanding a break- one he grants for once, even if it’s just ten minutes.
“I really don’t wanna go to that contest.” You huff, half of your face squished against the shiny floorboards. Jungkook slowly walks towards you, squatting down to flick his finger against one of your ears that’s again, a little floppy today.
“I know.” He answers, because he does still remember your outburst, devastating cries edged into his mind.
“Hey Jungkook?” you ask, as he absent-mindedly rubs your ear between his fingers, almost enchanted by the softness of it.
“Yeah?” He answers, noticing the way you clearly enjoy such a simple touch to the fullest. You’re constantly surrounded by people, and yet it’s clear that you’re touch-starved and just treated like a doll and nothing else. How lonely must you have been until now?
“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “or a boyfriend?” You wonder, leaning into his hand with closed eyes.
“No.” He answers, unsure and most of all suspicious.
“nice.” You smile, tail wagging softly. “I’m your girlfriend then.” You decide, and he freezes.
“...what?” He asks, sitting down now, a water bottle next to his crossed legs. “You can’t.. that’s not how it works.” He explains, but you shrug.
“My mom and my dad didn’t like each other either.” You reply, staring at nothing ahead, chin on your hands. “they just.. got together out of convenience. Cause they were the same hybrid breed, and I guess didn’t have anyone else at the time.” You mumble. “love isn’t real anyways. I’m pretty- isn’t that enough for you to like me?” You ask, turning your head to look at him with a gaze so.. detached that it makes him feel pity.
Is that your view on the world around you?
“You are pretty.” He responds. “but that’s not a foundation for.. a relationship.” He shakes his head.
“I don’t mind that you’re a mix.” You shrug. “you’re handsome, I’m pretty, and I have money.” You say. “if we get together thousands will flock to your dance studio. You’ll be super successful. “ You propose to him. “doesn’t even have to be for long. You can just.. I don’t know. Spend some time with me until you get bored, and then move on.”
“No.” He denies again. You frown.
“Huh.” You huff, slowly sitting up. “whatever then, I guess.”
“Do you even like me?” he asks you, confused, and you shrug before nodding.
“You’re nice. A bit stick-up-you-ass, but overall nice.” You offer.
Jungkook just watches you for a second, in full disbelief at what had been done to you. Raised in a place of luxury, with a golden spoon in your mouth and lies fed daily to create the view you have on everything around you right now. No kindness without some ulterior motive fits your reality. Everything has to be convenient for everyone involved.
“I don’t want a relationship without love, no matter what I might gain from it.” He explains himself, and you roll your eyes, before you flop onto your back, arms crossed again as you sulk. “You shouldn’t settle for less either.”
“Yeah well I wont get that.” You answer. “no one wants me. They want.. her.” You say, while twirling the silver name tag from around your neck in your fingers.
Until he leans over you, body entirely covering yours for a second, causing you to become nervous and wide eyed at his bold move. He’s looking at your neck, and you’re sure he must’ve realized what’s in it for him- after all, everyone is out for something to gain.
His hands move around your neck, fingers warm. You close your eyes as his face draws closer, awaiting the inevitable.
When suddenly, the collar around your neck is undone, and pulled off your neck.
“what-“ you ask, eyes open again as you watch him still above you, now looking into your eyes, and no longer anywhere else.
“I don’t want her.” He says, referring to the name on the tag around your neck that’s now in his hand, pushed into the floorboards where he holds himself up.
“But I’d like to get to know you instead.”
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a-most-beloved-fool · 12 days ago
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One of the lines in TOS that drives me the most crazy is in The Man Trap, when Spock is in command of the Enterprise. A death on the landing party is reported, and Uhura, upset that Spock doesn't display an emotional reaction, challenges him and reminds him that the death could be Captain Kirk. "He's the closest thing you've got to a friend," she says.
And that always sticks out to me.
It paints Spock as a pretty tragic figure, doesn't it?
Like - and this is disregarding new canon, sorry Disco and SNW I'm ignoring you - Spock is kind of implied to be, well. Pretty much alone. Kirk, his brand new captain, at that point, is the closest thing he has to a friend. We know that Spock was on the Enterprise before Kirk's Captaincy, and we know he was at least somewhat close to Pike in that time, but by that point Pike is disabled enough to barely be able to communicate, and it doesn't seem like Spock was close to anyone else on Pike's enterprise - at least no one who stuck around.
He's estranged from his family. Maybe he kept contact with Amanda, but frankly I can't imagine they were calling often. He has an unwilling fiancee who he has no real relationship with. He never seems to (willingly) date, wh He knew Leila Kalomi at some point, but it's blatantly obvious both that they haven't kept in touch and that Kalomi's interest in him makes Spock fairly uncomfortable, so she doesn't count. Am I missing anybody?
And then Kirk comes, and takes over the Enterprise, and, from the very start, looks at Spock with kindness and affection. Wouldn't that be. fucking life-changing? Kirk comes and, in a matter of weeks, single-handedly changes the entire trajectory of Spock's life, simply by liking him. Y'know?
It's genuine, too. It's not like Kirk is just playing nice for the sake of the command team. He's just - fond of Spock. Really, properly fond of him.
And it's more than a bit overwhelming for him, especially because he likes Kirk just as much as Kirk likes him, and he hasn't experienced that before, either. It's wildly obvious how important Kirk becomes to him from his words and actions throughout the show; from "when I feel friendship for you, I feel ashamed," in The Naked Time; to believing in Kirk's innocence when all evidence was against him in Court Martial; to breaking through the blood fever to beg T'Pau to forbid Kirk's participation, and also his smile in Amok Time; to Spock jumping in the path of a poison flower in The Apple; and on and on. It's obvious to the viewer, and it's just as obvious to other characters in the show. Spock treasures Kirk and his friendship.
Idk. I'm just regularly blown away by how astoundingly impactful Kirk was on Spock. From the very moment they meet, they're both irrevocably changed. Two halves of a whole indeed! I can understand how it would frighten Spock enough to make him flee to Kolinahr, unused to the sheer emotion brought on by Kirk, and I can understand how it would be compelling enough to cause him to return.
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mistydeyes · 1 year ago
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Task Force 141 and a reader that they never have seen out of uniform until one day they all go to a bar but the reader is late? Next thing they know the reader walks up to them dressed like they just walked straight out of the 2000’s?
(if you end up doing this request: thank you so much! I absolutely luv your writing!!)
thank you so much for requesting! i literally am in love with 2000's fashion like you'll be seeing me walking with low-cut jeans and a baby tee fr
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summary: After a tiring mission, the 141 invites you to drink away the night at the pub. However, you get into a lively argument about fashion when they question your choice in 2000's inspired attire.
pairings: taskforce 141 x platonic!gn!reader (codename: Storm)
warnings: swearing, slight bullying (they fr just don't understand fashion)
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"Didn't we tell Storm half-past eight?" Gaz asked, looking down at his watch. The pub was nearly empty as the men continued to add glass after glass to a growing pile. Despite reminding you with a string of texts, you still haven't made an appearance. "Still don't get why they had to change," Soap continued, choking down another drink, "Lt's still wearing his goddamn mask." The group laughed as their attention was directed to Ghost, still wearing his signature face mask. "They probably wanted a shower and some fresh trousers," Price commented and the rest of the group returned to a more interesting conversation.
As the group laughed at Soap recounting Ghost's out-of-character dialogue in Las Almas, their gaze fell on the pub's door as it swung open. The group smiled at the familiar face and gestured you over. You walked to the table quickly, feeling the attention in the empty pub. At first, you thought it was due to your late entrance but when you approached, you saw all eyes focused on your attire. It was like you walked out of the 2000s or robbed a Delias before your arrival. You felt a little self-conscious at the confused looks and wondered what all the fuzz was about. "What? Do I have a stain?" you questioned as you dusted off your low-cut, denim jeans. "No, it's just-" Gaz began to say but Soap interjected. "Why do you dress like that?" he asked and you raised an eyebrow. You looked down at your jeans and Von Dutch top. "But I normally dress like this?" you said with a curious tone. You dressed like this before joining the military and held on to the lively aesthetic of the early 2000s. You were embarrassed to admit but Britney Spears and *NSYNC were your fashion icons.
"Yeah," Ghost spoke up as he eyed the interesting font of your shirt, "you look like you could be an extra in a Spice Girls video." You rolled your eyes, grabbing at one of the half-drunk glasses on the table. "You've been quiet, Captain," you edged while looking at him, "what do you think?" There was a hush over the room as you waited in anticipation. "Clothes are clothes," he simply replied and the table roared with laughter. "Such a grandad thing to say," Soap loudly exclaimed and everyone clambered with sentiments of agreement. "Sorry I don't wear Wrangler jeans and black fitness tops," you mumbled. It was a subtle jab at your colleagues but Gaz took it to heart. "I have style!" he shouted as you shook your head in disapproval.
"Gaz, you look like someone trying to emulate an Instagram model or some teenager's Pinterest board," you argued and you were met by the howling of the tipsy men. "And Captain, I'm sorry but you look like a father going on holiday to the Swiss Alps," you directed towards Price as everyone realized this was becoming an insult fueled rage. Soap was still laughing wildly, shaking his head in agreement with your every word. "Oh you shouldn't be laughing, Soap," you said as you turned to him, "a navy blue sweater and black jeans are a fashion crime." He quickly turned red and looked embarrassed as he examined the mismatched colors. Everyone held their breath as you turned to Ghost. "And Lt," you paused, thinking of what you should say next, "you dress like you've never heard of color."
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