#like talk about adding insult to injury
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Because someone decided to use some gif’s I made without giving credit🙃:
(I could care less of it was a reaction gif, but a whole Nettles gifset 🙃)
I now will be using the evil bird app (just to re-post the gifs, moodboards, and stuff I make on here): https://twitter.com/dettlesdaily
To the person and any others who try it, you should know by now any funky crap you guys do I will find out about it😊
#surprise surprise it was a freaking Dumbnyra Stan 🤦🏽♀️#like talk about adding insult to injury#like I thought the crappy quality would stop people from using them but nope 🤦🏽♀️#that fanbase keeps reaffirming my dislike of them 😒#I think I’m more upset by them stealing it than the actual stealing 🤣#I don’t even think this person likes nettles so to do that is really foul 🤷🏽♀️#I still hate twitter#and it’s owner#I am going to try to avoid getting into debates with the crazy’s on there#I feel like clown now 🤡
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have been trying for days to find a topic for the "paper" I need to turn in for this Philosophy of History course on Friday, and I got nothing.
I so intensely dislike this subject you cannot imagine.
#This is the main reason I didn't take it the first time around#because they told me back then it wasn't required#and I had no interest in it#unlike most other branches of philosophy#it's constituted mostly by Prussian Philosophers#writing theories about history where of course Prussia is the pinnacle of humankind#theories that have the randomness of Tumblr shitposts without any of the fun#You open JSTOR and won't be able to find more than a couple dozen papers on the subject itself#and how could you#It's a discipline that has like 2-3 possible questions tops#is history linear or cyclical or something else#Does History have a purpose (so is there a providence) or not?#And that's pretty much it#By the point you are asking the question about the subjectivity of historical narratives you are talking about hermeneutics#and therefore philosophy of language and the mind#My frustration is not helped by the fact that the professor herself has taught very little#most of the classes have been presentations by freshmen classmates whose interpretations are understandably very basic and tentative#so the fact that she's asking for this without specific guidances is adding insult to injury#but wait there's more!#she intends the papers to be read collectively and peer discussed and evaluated#grrrr#Anyways if you need me I'll be on the pit of despair
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ PARTNERS — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationship, you and suguru are partnered for a project instead of satoru…and he doesn’t take the news lightly, dramatic toru and INSTIGATOR suguru
satoru is sulking—you’d find it a little amusing any other day, but he seems a bit more upset than usual. and quite frankly, suguru isn’t really helping things out either, so you feel just a little bad.
“baby,” you poke his cheek, “it’s not our fault! we just got randomly assigned—”
“whatever,” he huffs. you tug at his arm, but he pulls it away.
it just so happens that the three of you seem to share a class this semester—but unfortunately, suguru is assigned as your partner for a project. it’s the same project satoru wanted to be paired with you for. he seems convinced it’ll be you and him that are called—which, in all honesty, the likelihood of being paired with you out of the multiple people in the class is low, but it’s only added insult to injury that suguru had the odds in his favor.
satoru is not handling it well.
“toru,” you insist, pinching his cheek in hopes to cheer him up. he scowls at you—as if this is your fault, “c’mon, cheer up! now that it’s suguru, you can just tag along when we work—”
“tag along?” he cuts you off, tone bordering on hurt, “so now i’m the third wheel?”
oh dear.
“n-no!” you say quickly—suguru has the audacity to snicker, earning a warning glance from you, “you’re never the third wheel, toru. you’re the first wheel! the only wheel. really!”
“y’know,” suguru starts—you already know whatever he’s about to say is going to make things ten times worse. you try (and fail) to glare at him until he’s silent. “if i recall, the two of you got together through a project, didn’t you? who knows, maybe you’ll have the biggest crush on me after this is over.”
suguru drops the bomb and winks. you look at him like you want to kill him. satoru’s face is devastated.
you think this might be the end.
“what?” satoru gasps, turning to you quickly, “tell him that’s impossible, tell him! tell him he’s hideous and that you only have eyes for me—”
“toru, of course i only have eyes for you, don’t listen to him, he’s just pushing your buttons—”
“hey, you never know. i might charm you,” suguru adds fuel to the fire—this time, you throw your water bottle at him. he catches it with ease, throwing you a smug grin that makes you scowl deeper.
“you’re hideous, suguru,” satoru spits, “no way anyone would leave me for you—”
“that already happened. remember your girlfriend in middle school?”
“that doesn’t count! we were too young to know what love was back then!”
satoru is practically inconsolable now—you consider dropping out of this class just for the sake of peace. maybe you can take it over the summer and be paired with a random stranger that won’t bother your dramatic boyfriend. maybe you can evade the project altogether with a different professor. maybe you can kill suguru and the misfortune of a dead partner can grant you an automatic exemption from this assignment.
you weigh your options as satoru slumps with a pout.
“whatever,” he grumbles, “i don’t even care. have fun without me.”
suguru chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. you sigh before cupping satoru’s cheeks and giving him a small kiss to his forehead to cheer him up.
not surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to work.
“cheer up, baby,” you reason, “at least since it’s just suguru, you won’t have to leave us alone to work! it won’t be awkward if you’re there too.”
“but you’ll be too busy working with suguru to talk to me,” he says bitterly.
“at least i’ll have a handsome face to keep me motivated,” you grin, kissing his jaw—now that…that seems to cheer him up considerably. he brightens, plastering that usual smug grin he sports, as if the world around him wasn’t ending just moments ago.
“i am handsome, aren’t i?” he hums, wrapping an arm around you—mission accomplished, you think happily.
“yeah,” you nod quickly, “and suguru is hideous anyway. i’d never leave you for someone with a tacky man bun—”
“hey, leave my hair out of this—”
“it is pretty tacky,” satoru nods and agrees.
suguru crosses his arms, glaring at the both of you before he opens his mouth to retaliate. you cut in before he can say anything else to worsen satoru’s mood any further.
“and maybe you can help me—you’re smarter than suguru too.”
“he is not—”
“you’re right baby,” satoru hums, “maybe this is for the best. i’ll save both of your grades this way.”
suguru’s vein all but pops. “we don’t need your help—”
“don’t worry suguru,” satoru grins confidently, pointing to himself with his thumb, “i’ll save your grade. no need to thank me—ow!”
you watch tiredly as suguru throws your water bottle at satoru’s head—it’s going to be a long project.
i already know the switch boy! au people are gonna start the “suguru definitely wants reader” comments. i’m waiting for them i can sense them already
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#rich boy! au#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Fast Car Masterpost and Prologue
dead on main fic, intro + four chapters.
Summary: The Red Hood starts off his righteous campaign with a lot of nerve but no legal identification that will let him behind the wheel of a car. Public transportation really doesn't have the panache he needs to start off as a fearsome crime lord, so he needs a driver. He finds Danny Fenton, a grungly college student trying not to be noticed by any government agencies or vigilantes.
to subscribe to this post, on mobile open the notes and click the bell on the upper right hand corner of the post. on desktop, open the notes at the bottom and press the bell on the right edge of the notes.
Links will be added to chapter list as the story posts. Chapter one will go up on July 14th. Updates are approximately every other day.
LINKS/ chapter count
chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4
prologue
“No, Habibi,” Talia said calmly into the phone. “I will not falsify you an American non-commercial driver's license for motor vehicles. If you cannot prove yourself to Gotham without American motor vehicle operating permissions, you will never prove yourself. Rise above this challenge.” Talia covered the phone for a second but he could hear her talking to someone else about tile options.
“It's an unnecessary challenge,” Jason argued, doing his level best not to let his tone go up. It was undignified to whine. He was a man now. “The important parts of the challenge are the tactical planning and the skills.”
Talia sounded like she was filing her nails. “Tactically plan to take the bus. Or walk. Walking is free and healthy.”
Jason made an indignant sound but she mercilessly hung up. The worst! She made the top three of his worst mother figures, easily.
“She's just doing this so I can't go drinking.” He scowled into the air. “I don't even want to!” His voice broke mid whine, which was an insult to add to all the injuries visited upon him by the cruel whims of women who weren't even his legal guardian. He was an adult in most countries!
The worst part was that Talia didn't care about underage drinking. She just didn't want to hear shit about enabling him from Bruce when he eventually figured out that Jason was alive, 19, and in Gotham. His passport claimed he was 21 because it had to for him to travel alone, but she knew damn well no one used their passport as ID in bars.
He couldn't just go get a license. Jason sulked viciously and threw himself into fixing his plans to accommodate for this.
He was legally dead and living under a fake name. If he tried to sign up for the driving exam, it'd be too much scrutiny on his paperwork. But he was not taking the bus around as a crime lord. It lacked panache. More importantly, it didn't go where he wanted it to go.
Fine. He didn't need her help. He didn't need anyone's help. He just needed to download Uber.
That was how Jason wound up wiping a mob lieutenant’s blood off of his hand onto his pants so that he could use the guy's touch screen phone. Victor Woodward's account put in a request for a ride to the Gotham police headquarters. He killed time kicking ass in all the Words with Friends games that Victor had ongoing, which was really gonna surprise anyone who normally played with that boob. Victor’s last ever play was ‘cat,’ for fuck’s sake.
A few minutes later, a skinny teenager pulled up in his clanker and opened the door. Jason put on a smile and hefted his duffle bag a little higher on his shoulder.
“Hi! Victor?” The guy, Danny, waved his phone at Jason.
“That's me!” Jason lied breezily. “Can I put this in the trunk?”
“Go for it.” Danny popped the trunk open from inside the car. He watched Jason with his big blue doe eyes.
For an instant, Jason thought that Danny might have seen something. Paranoia reared up. Was there blood visible? Was it easy to tell that the shapes in the bag were heads?”
The moment passed. Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.”
Jason got in the car and let satisfaction wash over his body as the weirdly timid kid pulled them out into traffic at a snail’s pace. Whatever. They wouldn’t get stopped for a traffic violation when the driver was cautious.
He’d done it. His debut as the terrifying Red Hood, hunter of the wicked and bane of the Batman, was launched. And he didn’t need a license to do it.
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
if you're still accepting requests can ask for 🟠 with oscar please and thank you 😽
Oscar was not happy. He'd finished p1, and yet you could hear him in his driver's room, cursing and throwing things around like an animal.
Oh yeah, Oscar was fucking pissed.
Warnings: filth, dirty talk, based on hungary 2024, is it exhibitionism if the goal is to make people hear you?, squirting, Oscar's a bit of a freak in this ngl, bordering on dubious consent, very minimal prep, overstimulation?
Requested from my prompt list
Technically his race had gone perfectly, he drove great, managed his tyres, took the lead and he'd had his first Grand Prix victory in formula one. He should be happy.
But just like his first sprint victory, it had been completely overshadowed, and this time it was by the absolute mess that was the Mclaren strategy calls.
By the fuckass team that made the call to pit his twat of a teammate first.
It was supposed to be smooth sailing, instead his teammate had to fucking let him pass for him to win.
That's not racing, that's fucking… it's…
Whatever it is it's fucked. It's fucked and it's wrong and it made Oscar's win feel undeserved. And the final insult came in the form of Lando himself.
Sweet summer child, Mclaren's princess, doe eyed baby boy Lando.
He was only a prick about 1% of the time, but today he was really making up for the the other 99% with gusto.
While Oscar was smashing up his driver's room, Lando was in his own, next door, adding insult to injury by playing his music just loud enough for Oscar to hear, but he'd selected a playlist that he knew Oscar hated.
Because Lando was also bitter. So it was really just petty bickering, but with noise instead of words. Everytime Oscar threw something against the wall, or screamed in anger, Lando would turn it up a notch.
You, the team photographer, and Oscar's fuckbuddy turned unofficial girlfriend, decided to intervene before either of them decided to start costing the team serious money in property damage, or actually start brawling. It had happened only once in the two years they'd been teammates, but it was not pretty, and definitely something you'd like to avoid.
So you knocked on Oscar's door.
“No!” he yelled from inside.
“It's just me, Osc! I'm coming in!” you answered, opening the door carefully before stepping in.
The sight before you was hot pitiful.
Stuff was everywhere. Several things including his phone and a bottle of water, were smashed next to the wall separating the two drivers.
His helmet was on the other side of the room, his massage table was upside-down and the sofa cushions had been thoroughly roughed-up and strewn around the room.
And in the middle of all this was Oscar, still in his race suit, red faced and panting hard, sweat soaked hair plastered on his forehead.
The way he looked at you almost made your knees buckle. You'd barely ever seen him so angry.
He'd managed to keep his carefully composed image together after the race and during the interviews, but now, now he was letting it all out.
As you walked in his features softened ever so slightly and he rushed towards you, enveloping you in a tight hug. So tight you could barely breathe.
Neither of you said anything, bodies entertwined, just gently rocking to whatever shit-stirring music the prick next door had selected.
God, he wanted to punch him so bad.
He would have to find another way to let out his pent up aggression.
He made noise low in his throat before his hands started trailing downwards. Down to cup your ass and squeeze, hard.
You squeaked and jumped in his hold but he held firm, keeping you pressed against him.
He was breathing hard against your neck and you almost felt like he was about to eat you alive.
“Oscar?” you tried, no response.
He roughly turned you around and pushed you down onto the only thing he'd left intact, the desk.
The conveniently empty desk, which was against the same wall that the music was coming from.
The force with which he pushed you made you stumble, and you just about caught yourself before you almost got a concussion.
“Oscar, what-” you started to say, but the sound of him quickly unzipping his suit and his hand coming to push you down cut you off.
“Baby I love you, but right now I just need you to bend over and take it.”
You whole body shuddered at his tone, and he chuckled darkly.
“I knew you would like this, my little slut is up for anything.”
He very rarely talked to you like that, or got into this kind of mood, but when he did you turned into mush.
You enjoyed careful, loving, passionate Oscar as much as the next person. But this Oscar… this one was a real treat.
The hand between your shoulder blades pinned you down while the other one pushed your cute little skirt up and pushed your underwear to the side.
Two fingers breached you and you moaned loud, hopefully covered by Lando's music.
“God you're so wet. I think i'll just slide in.” Oscar pumped his fingers a few times before going to push his fireproofs down around his thighs, freeing his cock that had been at least half hard ever since he'd crossed the finish line.
“I'm going to need you to be louder than that if we want Lando to hear how good I'm treating my girlfriend” he muttered darkly into your ear.
You gasped and didn't even have time to protest before you heard him spit in his hand and cover his cock, carefully putting it against you and pushing in, just over half way.
It's a good thing you were lying down on the desk, because your legs went completely numb as the feeling of his thick cock stretched you open.
“Fuck, that's good. You're my good girl aren't you? Gonna take all of my cock like I know you can?”
You couldn't answer, but he adjusted his position and thrusted in all the way in, and the noise you let out definitely wasn't covered by Lando's music.
You'd be surprised if the whole building hadn't heard you, and you would be worried about it if it weren't for the amazing dick you were currently getting.
You literally couldn't shut your mouth. Your jaw was wide open and Oscar didn't hesitate to stick two of his fingers in there to ensure you couldn't hide your moans.
The loudest moans you'd ever produced came spilling out at every thrust, and Oscar couldn't help but feel proud of the pleasure he was managing to give you while being so selfish.
Because he wasn't doing this for you, he was doing this for himself, for his pride, to let out his frustration and anger, and mostly to piss off Lando.
You were unable to move, the pressure on your back was pushing you roughly against the desk, you could barely breathe, every thrust sent your hipbones knocking into the edge of the desk, your cervix was taking a beating, and your nails were splitting because of how hard you were scratching the surface under you.
It was fucking perfect.
As the desk rocked, the edge of it hit the wall repeatedly and you were sure Oscar had placed it there on purpose. Just to make a point to Lando, that Oscar had someone there for him. Someone he could count on who loved him. Someone he could use.
And use you he did. You were floating, brain like tv static as Oscar gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and pounded into you harder than he ever had before.
You felt so high on pleasure that your orgasm came and went almost unnoticed by you, but Oscar definitely noticed.
He quickly pulled out, ripped your now ruined underwear off, and turned you over on the desk.
“Fuck, look at you. Completely drunk on my cock.”
He slid back inside and started thrusting straight into your g-spot with renewed vigour.
“Fuck baby you're so good for me. My good girl, all for me.”
If you hadn't been completely out of it, you'd have noticed how Oscar was speaking unnaturally loudly, and throwing angry glances at the wall every now and then. Again, this wasn't for your benefit.
“You can give me another one can't you? Come on baby, come all over the cock that's making you feel so good”
He was nailing your sweet spot dead on every time and a hand had joined the party to thumb lazily at your clit, lighting your whole body on fire.
This one you definitely felt coming, it was building deep inside you, making your toes curl and your breaths come out in high pitched whines, and you registered a new wetness between your thighs.
“ Perfect girl, Perfect fucking cunt.”
Oscar was over the moon, he was making you squirt all over him, the desk and the carpet.
“Yes baby, fuck- good girl. Fucking soak me baby that's it.”
He only lasted a couple of thrust before the image of you limp in his arms, eyes rolled back and thighs clamping around him trying to stop his assault on your overstimulated pussy, overwhelmed him and he came with a shout.
His hips stilled as he felt like his soul had been sucked out via his dick.
It took you a few minutes to regain control of your limbs. Oscar had fucked all the energy straight out of you.
You noticed the music next door had stopped completely. And then the realisation of what just happened set in.
Oscar had just fucked your brains out, and everyone, including Lando had probably heard you.
It got Lando and Oscar to stop fighting, and to you surprise you never got repremanded for inappropriate workplace behaviour.
But to no one's surprise, Lando never put his music on higher than 50% volume ever again
#my thots#oscar thots#oscar piastri#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader#op81#f1#formula 1#ask#request
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Forgotten Daughter
Well let Troy burn.
Jajaja, I don't speak fluent English, but I can still write in English, even so I try to make my wish of writing about this neglected au yandere character possible.
Don't judge me I'm trying my best.
Prologue
You were born from an adventure, you are a bastard, your father never recognized you, you never knew about him until fate forced you to meet him.
For as long as you can remember, you lived with your mother, they were the happiest days you ever had.
Why the words "those were the happiest days", well your mother died in a car accident one day.
You were left alone when your beloved mother died, you remember being scared at the thought that you were now an orphan and would have to struggle in this cruel world to survive.
That would have been a hundred times better than what actually happened.
No, your destiny was to go live with your unknown father.
The famous Bruce Wayne, a Gotham City millionaire, philanthropist, playboy and owner of Wayne Industries.
Suffice it to say that your welcome was not the best, along with the lack of attention from your new father, to know what awaited you.
You were his first daughter, before he filled the house with many wild children who became vigilantes just like him.
You saw how a new child arrived with the passing years.
He guided them on their path with wisdom and something that could be described as fatherly affection.
You just stood on the sidelines waiting your turn to have a little bit of your father's attention.
That was never possible, there was never time for you, no matter how hard you tried, you were not important, you were not on his list of priorities, not even on the list of pending things.
You only had a butler as a responsible adult figure, no matter how much you want to say that it was enough to have him, it wasn't.
He reminded you that your father didn't even have any interest in you that his butler had to take care of you.
You gave up on this family with the third adopted child.
None of them wanted to hear from you when you tried to build a relationship with them, something that added insult to injury you already had.
You were an adult when the third son Tim appeared, you didn't learn anything from them except for his name, partly because you weren't interested in his past and partly because none of them wanted to share it, because they would do it with a completely unknown and disadvantaged girl.
As soon as you had the opportunity, you fled the mansion, maybe no one would notice, you were very sure.
You had money, your mother had insurance, which would pass into your hands when you came of age.
With that you survived at the university, of course you went to another city, safer and far from your family.
You wouldn't be so stupid to stay in y our already proclaimed city.
Your college years were healing for your broken heart, filled with sadness, hate and pain.
Being neglected, ignored and forgotten was very destructive to your life.
You went to a lot of parties, you drank a lot, you took a lot of substances and powders of dubious origin to numb your feelings, you met a lot of people, you made friends who had problems similar to yours.
Shitty parents who screwed up your life.
If your stay in that house caused you episodes of depression, low self-esteem and constant anxiety that caused you to mutilate your nails.
Over the years away from that place that you had to call home, you recovered from all your self-destructive feelings along with the people you met and had the honor of calling friends, brothers and family.
You graduated without complications, in the career that you always dreamed of following since you were little.
At one of the parties with your friends, when they were celebrating the entry into the hateful but obligatory world of work for you and one of your friends, you met a boy, his appearance caught your attention.
When you started talking to him, you hit it off very well, you danced a lot on the floor together, you drank like there was no tomorrow and you talked until you were hoarse.
In a moment of conversation between the two, he confessed that he was a hero, something that you took as a joke, because who would confess it to a complete stranger.
You didn't take into account that it could be true, a confession that the man said because he was super drunk.
You woke up in an unknown place, as soon as you recovered you fled the place, it was easy because the man you remembered coming to this place with had already left long before you woke up.
You continued your life normally, some stumbles and falls but nothing extreme that you couldn't resolve.
At least that's what you thought, until you saw a dark-skinned boy, with black hair, with green eyes and a terrifying unfriendly face, outside your house knocking on the door.
His appearance was very easy to spot, you had a vague idea of who he was.
If you had known that his presence would turn your world upside down, you would have thought better of it.
377 notes
·
View notes
Text
When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Fourteen
This was a bit of a rollercoaster of a chapter, with angst, fluff, maybe a bit of romance too, but overall ends on a sweet note. This is also my longest chapter in a bit oops
Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: Yunho's fight and getting called back to the company, plus more angry Hongjoong because we love an angry captain. wc: 4.8k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: fighting, non-graphic descriptions of injuries, angry alphas, slight panicking by y/n, Hongjoong being angry aover many things, talks about supressing heats for not good reasons, clingyness, mxm interactions, growling masterlist
She would come to find out later that the bystanders were almost smothered in the scent of her distress. But in the moment, y/n could only watch in horror as Yunho fought the other alpha, fists flying and too much movement to keep track of, until you noticed something fly out of Yunho’s pocket.
Watching as it flew towards her, she found it was Yunho’s phone. Y/n wasn’t able to catch it, but she picked it up from the ground. However, it was locked, and there was no way for her to guess his password. Though, just with her luck, she was able to open up the emergency call, and found that there was a number ready to be called. Calling that number, she hoped it was someone who would be able to help.
“Yunho?” She heard the person answer, and it took her a few moments to reply, prompting the other person to repeat Yunho’s name once again.
“This isn’t Yunho, but who are you?” Y/n asked the person on the other line, not recognizing the voice.
“Y/n? Why do you have Yunho’s phone? It’s me, Hongjoong.” He said, and y/n just breathed in a sigh of relief to hear the captain’s voice.
“There’s a bit of a situation here, can you come find us?” You asked him, whining at the end as you watched Yunho take a particularly brutal punch.
“What’s around you? Tell Alpha Hongjoong so he can find you,” Hongjoong said, finding that you couldn’t help but tell him after hearing his last words to you. Hongjoong had added a bit of his alpha voice into his last sentence, needing y/n to focus on what was around her so they could find her and Yunho quickly.
“Umm, there’s a convenience store to the left of me? It looks like a 7/11 I think? And there’s a bunch of food stalls around here too?” She said, looking around quickly.
She heard one of the other’s voices in the back, “I know where they are, let’s go!” She couldn’t tell who that was, but she knew they were on their way.
“Keep yourself safe, sweetheart, okay? We’ll be there as quickly as we can be, I promise.” Hongjoong told her before hanging up on her.
She watched as Yunho took control of the fight, pinning the other alpha to the ground. It seemed she had missed a bit while talking to Hongjoong. She held her breath as she watched him, eyes flicking up every few seconds as she hoped the others would get there already.
It wasn’t until Yunho had beaten the other alpha half to unconsciousness, that the other seven arrived. Jongho, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa rushed over to your side as you watched the alphas pull Yunho off of the other alpha, who laid there for a moment before stumbling up and running away, not looking back.
“Yunho, what were you thinking?” Hongjoong asked him, his voice stern.
“He insulted y/n. He was being an asshole.” Yunho said, anger still clear in his voice and scent as the smell of oranges was taken over by the spicy smell of ginger, causing y/n to step back.
“This isn’t the time or place to do this. We’re going to head back to the company now. I’ve been requested to bring you all back with me.” Hongjoong informed him, placing a hand on the taller alpha’s shoulder and pulling him along, the smell of bitter coffee that stung her nose emanating from the shorter man as he passed by the three omegas and beta.
The four joined the group as the nine of them walked back to where their security would pick them up. When they arrived, there were two vans waiting for them, as well as one of the group’s managers, who ushered the group into two separate ones as they climbed into the black vans. Y/n chose to stick with Jongho, Wooyoung, Mingi and Yeosang as the other four climbed into the van behind theirs. They quickly took off towards the company, and for the first little while the car was silent.
Yeosang was the first one to break the silence, “What do you think the company wants us for?”
“I don’t know. We’ll find out soon.” Mingi answered his fellow alpha, and the car once again fell silent, and that continued until they arrived at KQ.
The four exited the van, only waiting a couple minutes more for the other half to arrive, and the full group entered the company building and followed Hongjoong as he took the lead and guided them to the same conference room they had been in earlier that day.
It was almost a mirror image of that morning’s meeting, except it was just her, Ateez and their management team.
“We want to get y/n’s contract signed quickly, so that we can get to work on adding her into the group.” One of the staff members stated.
“Hand over the contract then, please.” Hongjoong took charge, as he had pulled y/n to sit next to him for this meeting, having had a clue what was going on.
Knowing that Hongjoong wouldn’t relent, they handed over the contract to him, who placed it in between himself and y/n, and Hongjoong helped y/n look over the major parts of the contract. While they did that, Hongjoong looked up at Seonghwa, who was already messaging the group’s independent lawyer, so that they could look over the contract before their newest member signed it.
“It’s a standard contract that all of our artists sign,” Another staff member said, “The clauses in there are all industry standard.”
“No it’s not,” Hongjoong said, having found a couple clauses that he very much disagreed with, “I know neither of these clauses are industry standard. I negotiated them out of our renewed contracts, so why are they in hers?” He said, looking up at the staff with a raised eyebrow and a grin that no one wanted to be on the receiving end of.
“This is the standard contract. Why should she be given any other contract?” The same staff member asked.
“Because she’s part of my group now. She’ll get the same contract we have. She will not be forced to suppress her heats, nor will she have a separate dorm unless she explicitly requests that.” Hongjoong said, his voice teetering on the edge of anger.
“Well, we’d have to have a valid reason why she can’t follow what we’ve put in the contract.”
“The valid reason is the omegas in my group do not and will not risk their health for your ability to make us work.” Hongjoong states with a tone of finality, not willing to budge.
“Our lawyer is on their way, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa leaned over to tell him.
“Your lawyer?” Y/n finally spoke up, looking over at the two eldest.
“Yes, he’ll make sure that your contract matches ours, and will make sure that there’s nothing shady in it.” Hongjoong reassured y/n.
She was surprised that they would go this far for her, but in reality she shouldn’t be too surprised. As a group, they’ve done a lot to make her feel like a part of the group and this is just another way they’re doing that, but ensuring she would have a fair contract.
Mingi leaned behind Jongho, whispering, “Hyungs will make sure your contract is like ours, they won’t stand for anything being unfair to you. It’ll be okay. But bring it over between Jongho and I so we can tell you what else is in it.”
She managed to slide the contract between the three of them, and the two explained exactly what was in the contract to her, sometimes using a translator when things didn’t transfer between languages. She found the parts that Hongjoong pointed out to be the most egregious, with the exception of the one other part of the idol contract, that she felt was potentially malicious in its wording. She was intending to bring up that clause as well, as she wouldn’t abide by it.
It wasn’t long before the Ateez’s lawyer arrived, and Hongjoong, having realized that the contract was no longer in his possession, looked to find that y/n and the two men had nabbed it. He coughed to alert them to his presence, the three looking over and seeing that the captain had his hand out for the contract.
Y/n handed it over, looking a little sheepish that she had taken it, despite the fact that it was her contract, so she was allowed to look at it. Hongjoong handed it over to the lawyer, who immediately took the seat offered to him by Seonghwa, who moved to stand behind the chairs of Jongho and y/n, his hands resting on the backs of the chairs.
“Hi baby omega, Joong-ah will get this sorted for you.” Seonghwa said to her as he leaned down closer to her, as she nodded.
“There’s another part of the contract I don’t like. It’s the one beneath the accommodations.” She looked up at the older omega as she spoke.
Though neither of them had to say that to Hongjoong, the man somehow heard her words despite his focus, and immediately pointed that out to the group’s lawyer, to the protest of one staff member. The same one who continued to insist that y/n’s contract was fine as is.
“It is not fine as it is,” Hongjoong fired back, before turning to y/n, “Y/n, what do you want to do for your accommodations? Do you want a separate apartment? Or would you like to stay with us in our dorm?” He asked her.
Y/n took a minute to think. It would be nice to have her own space, it would allow her the downtime she sorely needed sometime, and the space to be by herself. But on the other hand, she’d grow closer with the others if she moved in with them.
“I’m okay moving into your dorm, Hongjoong-oppa,” She answered, looking at him.
Hongjoong didn’t have to say a word as the lawyer amended that part of the contract. This was how the rest of the amendments went, Hongjoong asking her what she wanted, and once she answered him, that change was implemented in the contract. Hongjoong also changed the contract to allow for her to have as many heats during the year as her body required, though usually she only had two or three a year.
“Here’s the amended contract. We won’t accept any less than this.” The lawyer, whose name she never caught, said as they handed over the changed contract.
“You can’t go changing her contract for her,” That same staff member sputtered out.
“I can and I have. If you want to get fired, by all means keep protesting. I can and will walk away from KQ if you or other staff continue to cause trouble,” Hongjoong said.
“You’re going to this trouble for an omega. If you had gone with the nice beta, we wouldn’t have to deal with all of this nonsense.”
And that was where they stepped over the line. And where specific staff’s involvement that resulted in the chaos this morning was revealed. Hongjoong growled in anger at this information, and the younger four took to letting their frustration out on the poor (and not so poor) staff members. Hongjoong, who really seemed to work on instinct, pulled y/n close to him and led the omega out of the room to his studio, wanting to get away from the stress that their staff kept causing.
Y/n didn’t really have any choice but to let Hongjoong lead her away, watching as the alpha’s shoulders started to slowly relax, though his body was still tense. The captain of the group pushed open his studio door, pulling her inside before locking it and dragging both of them to the couch. Y/n was not expecting for the alpha to pull her down almost on top of him as Hongjoong pulled off the scent patch that he must have put on earlier while in the other van. The smell of bitter coffee and burnt vanilla permeated the room while y/n almost choked on the bitter scents.
“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong said, pulling her close and making her squeak in surprise.
“Sorry about what?” Y/n managed to get out, pushing away her surprise for the moment.
“For pulling you into this mess. I know I didn’t want anyone else joining at the beginning, and I surely didn’t want KQ to meddle with my group, but I’m grateful that you’re the one that we chose.” Hongjoong said, pulling her down at the end, burying his head in her neck to get better access to her scent, shocking y/n.
She wasn’t expecting this today, even after what had happened the night prior. Where did this clingy Hongjoong come from? She couldn’t deny loving it, who wouldn’t want to be this close with Kim Hongjoong? But at the same time, this feels like something that should be reserved for packmates, not her, a random omega.
Her train of thoughts was broken by Hongjoong mumbling into her neck, “Why do you smell sad?”
“Sad?” She asked, confused.
“Yes, sad.” Hongjoong said.
“I’m not sad, Hongjoong-oppa.” Y/n told him.
“You smell sad, there must be something wrong. It’s okay, alpha is here.” Hongjoong said to her, his alpha feeling the need to try and make her happier.
Thankfully, for y/n’s poor heart, Seonghwa unlocked the door and let himself in to find the two on the couch.
“Hi y/n dear. Are you okay?” Seonghwa asked, to which she nodded.
“She’s sad.” Hongjoong told the omega, his face still buried in y/n’s neck.
Before Seonghwa could reply, two more members stumbled into the now unlocked studio. It turned out to be Yeosang and San, who looked sheepish at the stares being leveled their way.
“Hi hyungs, hi y/n,” San greeted the trio, “Hongjoong-hyung, looks like you’re getting comfy with y/nnie.”
Hongjoong didn’t grace San’s teasing with a reply, instead opting to reach out for Seonghwa, pulling the omega down next to himself and y/n.
“We’re here to fetch y/n. They’ve redone the contract with the new terms, and they want her to sign it.” Yeosang informed the duo.
Y/n nodded and tried to remove herself from Hongjoong, but was unable to. “Hongjoong love, you have to let go.” Seonghwa tried to coax the alpha into releasing the youngest omega.
“Don’t want to.” He grumbled, pouting.
“If you let go of y/n, and let her sign the documents, we can go grab her stuff from the trainee dorms later.” Seonghwa said, trying to entice the pack alpha into letting go. Honestly, Hongjoong’s behavior was not the norm for the alpha, he wasn’t very clingy to people he didn’t know well, and y/n counted as one of those people currently.
Thankfully, Seonghwa’s reminder worked and Hongjoong pulled his arms away from where they were wrapped around y/n’s waist. This allowed y/n to get off of the captain’s lap, unable to look at him while she felt her face heat up. She walked over to Yeosang and San, who promised the two eldest that they’d bring her back afterwards.
While y/n went off to go sign the contract, Seonghwa turned to Hongjoong, an eyebrow raised at his leader and pack alpha.
“What was that behavior about, hmm?” Seonghwa asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hongjoong tried to deflect, but it wouldn’t work with his mate and he knew it.
“Yes you do, but if you want to deny your actions, then go right ahead.” Was all the omega said in reply, falling silent afterwards.
The two sat in silence until y/n and the other six members returned from her contract signing. The door opened slowly and Yunho was the first to step inside, followed by y/n and then San and the others were right behind her.
“Did it go well?” Seonghwa asked, to which y/n hummed and nodded.
“Her contract was altered the way that we wanted, and we all double checked before we let her sign it, but now y/n’s an official member of Ateez!” Yunho said, washing away any worries that the staff had sneakily changed the contract, and to which everyone celebrated her officially joining them.
However, the cheering was cut short by an interruption by one of the members.
“Can we go home now?” Wooyoung whined from behind the group in the doorway.
“Well that depends on what y/n wants to do,” San said, looking to the omega in front of him for her answer.
“I can go back to the dorms I’m staying in if you all want to return to yours,” Y/n offered.
“We were maybe planning to offer for you to grab your things from the dorm you were staying in, and bring them to our dorm, since you’ll be moving in soon anyways.” Seonghwa said.
Y/n looked around, seeing that there wasn’t anyone opposed to that idea, and she nodded, saying, “Okay, we can do that.”
This started another round of cheers and San wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her back to him.
“You’ll get to experience the craziness that is Ateez now. I hope you’re prepared for it. I’ll have your back if anyone gets too much, okay?” He told her, as they watched the others cheer and plan out the rest of their day.
“Who’s ever prepared for the craziness and chaos that is Ateez?” Y/n said in response, making San chuckle, feeling his chest rumble and making her slightly flustered at how close she was to him, and to have this privilege of becoming one of them.
“Look at you two getting cozy here,” They heard from behind them, y/n pulling away slightly.
“Are you jealous, Mingi-yah?” San teased back.
“No, but hyung might get jealous.” Mingi said, nodding over to where Hongjoong was staring right at them.
Y/n looked over and saw the very intense stare from Ateez’s pack alpha, quickly looking away again. The stare was too much for her right now, she couldn’t keep eye contact with him.
Mingi and San chuckled at her reaction, and y/n pouted in response, “Don’t laugh at me.” She slightly whined, annoyed.
“You’re adorable though sweetheart,” Mingi drawled, “You’re gonna have to learn to keep eye contact with hyung when he stares like that, y’know.”
“Well maybe one day I will, not today.” She mumbled, looking down at her shoes and the ground.
Suddenly everyone started moving, and San pulled her along, y/n stumbling as she wasn’t ready for the sudden movement. San stopped her from falling over, apologizing and instead moving to grab her hand instead. He guided her through the halls as they followed the other seven out of the company building and down to the same two vans that they had arrived here in. This time it seemed to be split between the maknae and hyung lines, and with San holding her hand, she joined the younger four in their van.
“The hyungs will meet us at our dorm, and the four of us will go with you to collect your things.” Jongho said to her as the van took off in the direction of the auditionee dorms.
“Okay. I’ll make sure to be quick so that you all don’t have to wait too long.” She said in reply.
“Mingi and I were going to come up with you, so you don’t have to carry everything yourself.” San said to her, smiling.
“You don’t have to do that,” She protested, “I can do it myself.”
“Let them help,” Jongho said, “They’ll whine about it if you don’t.”
Sighing, she nodded in agreement to letting them help. The two smiled brightly at her, and it was only a few minutes later that they arrived at the apartment building that housed the dorm she had stayed in.
After the trio exited the van, San motioned for her to lead them to the dorm. She took them up to the sixth floor, and down to the end of the hall. Typing in the keycode, the door unlocked and let them in, where they found the others packing up.
“Oh, you’re here.” One of them said, “And you’re special enough to have Ateez members with you too.”
“I’m here to collect my things. It was nice to stay with you for these few days, and I hope you have a safe trip back home.” Y/n said to them, not wanting to get into it with any of the auditionees who were now heading back to their homes.
She led the two men to her room, unlocking it with her key and letting them into the room. Because she hadn’t really had much time to do anything here, or go out and explore, most of her clothes and other necessities were still in her suitcase.
She directed the two to put away the clothing that was strewn about the room as she reluctantly dismantled her nest, or an attempt at one anyways. Once she finished that, she moved to leave the room so she could collect what was left of her stuff in the bathroom. She found and grabbed everything, packing it in her toiletries bag and bringing it back to her room, where she found her suitcases packed, and her backpack waiting for whatever else she had to put in it.
“We packed everything else we could into your backpack, if that’s okay?” Mingi said, a bit unsure.
“That’s okay, I think you actually packed everything where I usually put them, so it’s less work for me,” She told him.
“Then let’s go, the others at our dorm are getting a bit antsy.” San said, grabbing one suitcase and pulling it along while Mingi grabbed the remaining ones, as y/n took her backpack.
The three navigated their way out of the apartment and down to the van, the two men packing her bags into the back of the van while she hopped in with her backpack. Once they were all back in the van, they headed to their final destination, Ateez’s dorm. Thankfully, they weren’t actually far from it, which is slightly concerning, but their building did have good security, so she shouldn't have to worry.
Arriving at their building, they found that Hongjoong was waiting outside. He greeted them as they climbed out of the car, and followed San and Mingi and the three grabbed her suitcases while y/n slung her backpack onto her back. Seeing as Wooyoung and Jongho had very little to nothing to carry, they lead the way into the building, stopping to get another keycard for y/n, before heading up to their dorms, y/n paying attention to the details this time.
Jongho unlocked their door, leading everyone inside, and while y/n was taking off her shoes, Hongjoong led San and Mingi away further into the dorm so that y/n’s bags could be left in her room for now.
Seonghwa showed up in the hallway, greeting the three at the entrance of their home, “Hello you three, and welcome to your new home, y/n.”
“Thank you Seonghwa-oppa,” Y/n said, bowing to the older omega in thanks.
Seonghwa waved off her thanks, insisting that it was nothing, and that they were happy to have her here with them. The two omegas and one beta lead her to the living room for now, promising that they’ll give her a proper tour later.
The trio found the other two ‘99 liners that hadn’t been in her van in the living room, Yeosang had taken to laying on the floor, while Yunho had situated himself in the only chair in the room.
“Welcome to your new home!” Yunho said, smiling at her and waving her over to sit on the nearby loveseat.
“Thank you, Yunho-oppa,” she said, moving to take the seat he was pointing at, and Wooyoung moved to sit next to her, taking the remaining spot.
“Yah, stop hogging her, let someone else sit next to her if they want to.” Seonghwa scolded Wooyoung, making the other omega get up.
The moment the spot was free, both Jongho and Yeosang moved to sit next to her before freezing when they noticed the other. Jongho won that silent debate, and Yeosang took the spot in between y/n’s legs, after asking her for permission.
Wooyoung pouted at this, before Seonghwa pulled the omega down onto the couch with him, the younger omega sitting on Seonghwa’s lap and his head being pushed into the older omega’s neck. Wooyoung’s body relaxed so quickly once his nose was buried in Seonghwa’s scent gland, it was almost like watching a puppet with its strings cut.
Y/n quietly giggled at the sight, it was cute but amusing to see how quickly Wooyoung went quiet. The trio that had been putting away her bags in her new room emerged from one of the hallways, their leader smiling at the sight they came back to.
“It looks like everyone’s settling in well.” Hongjoong commented as the two behind him moved to find their own spots, Mingi gravitating towards Yunho while San moved to sit in the spot next to where Seonghwa and Wooyoung were, as Hongjoong took the final open spot, on the other side of the two omegas.
The nine of them stayed quiet for a while, just taking in the silence after a long day, and while they had promised y/n a proper tour, it wasn’t to be as one by one, they fell asleep. Y/n watched as Seonghwa and Wooyoung fell asleep, wrapped up in each other, and it wasn’t long before San joined them, his head resting on Seonghwa’s other shoulder.
Mingi and Yunho almost fell asleep, however Mingi stood up, stumbling as he was fairly sleepy, and pulled Yunho out of his chair and down one of the hallways, to one of their bedrooms.
Yeosang was next, and y/n felt his head lean more on her thigh as he lost the battle to sleep. Jongho chuckled next to her, the sound so quiet she almost didn’t hear it.
“He tends to do this, it’s always adorable.” He explained, whispering to her.
Hongjoong, still awake, moved over to the two still awake, sitting down in between Jongho’s legs.
“This doesn’t usually happen, well not like this. This is usually how it happens in the pack nest, but it seems everyone is really tired today.” Hongjoong said to y/n, explaining further about days like this.
The combination of all of the scents in the room, all happy and content, made y/n feel sleepy. She had already had a very active day that was full of surprises, so this quiet downtime made her become very sleepy very quickly. She felt her head lolling to the side, and despite her attempts to stay awake, the comforting smell of a fireplace, as that was all she could think of it as, burning wood in a fireplace, a hand moved to pull her head onto their shoulder.
“It’s okay to sleep, y/n,” Hongjoong whispered, looking up at her from his place on the floor, some emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t place at the moment.
She felt her eyes get heavy, and the calming scents from those around her, lulled her into sleep. Hongjoong and Jongho watched as her breathing became slower and evened out, before the captain looked around at the others, smiling at how content everyone seemed right now. He looked back at Jongho to find the maknae looking down at him.
“You should sleep too, hyung,” Jongho whispered, just loud enough for the older alpha to hear.
“I’m not that tired,” Hongjoong started, before his body betrayed him, a yawn coming out of his mouth.
“You can come here and sleep, if you want?” Jongho offered, his voice unsure.
Hongjoong took him up on his offer, climbing into the younger man’s lap and resting his head on Jongho’s unoccupied shoulder, and like y/n, started relaxing as Jongho’s scent comforted him and made him grow sleepier.
“It’s okay hyung, I can take on your burdens for a little while, you can rest.” Jongho whispered into Hongjoong’s ear, and it was those words that convinced Hongjoong it was okay to rest for a while.
Prev | Next
Taglist: @bethelighthalazia @scarfac3 @smally97 @potatomountain @iyeeeverydee
@lxsunshine @ismelllikechlorine247 @fr34k4c1dr41n @ateez-atiny380 @sapphirewaves
@davinashifts333 @cookiesandcreammy @not-straight-kait @hoeforalbedo @calisnewworld
@smilefordongil @fantasy2wonderland @forever-atiny @khjcoo
@hhoneylix @ayoo-bangtan @11glitch11 @lynnsqueendom @fireseo
@cara-rey @therealcuppicake @lyracarvahall @anxiousskylar @dinossaurz
@madilinetheb3st @h3arteyes4mingi @sweetmoonlight9 @strayteezsimp @yukichan67
@insanityxofxfanfiction @genderfluidthatwannabealone @mallielovssyou @queen-thiccness @xiosmemoryoflife
@silverstarburst @dimeb29 @quailbagutte @londonbridges01 @ravensfeatheruniverse
@haven-cove @seventeenthingsblr @vic0921 @bakedpotatoman @peachyy-jooniee
@uhhheather @yoonjikim @vampiregirl215 @kawaiikels @lovelyglares
@kaleigh-2002 @arabelleum @kibs-and-bits @0325tiny @miracle-sol
@discombobulatedrat @witchbxtch0701 @bee-the-loser @hwallazia @dawn-iscozy
@ldysmfrst @ahhhhhhhhhghh @neivivenaj @comicnerd557 @binniesbabe
@freeandrealme @princelingperfect @sofkloster @lilaclichh
Taglist is: open!
if your name is in pink, I can't tag you!
#pirateeznet#mirohsaurorasociety#ateez x reader#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#abo series#a/b/o au#ateez series
260 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you do one where max verstappen x leclerc!sister reader? set this after austria 2019. y/n refuses to talk to max, and max refuses to talk to y/n. both angry for their own reasons. charles hates seeing them so distant so he goes and sorts it out even though he is still furious at max.
Thanks!
to hell with him (mv1, cl16! as a brother)
the champagne showers at the red bull ring were a stark contrast to the storm brewing between you and max. two years. two years of laughter, whispered secrets in motorhomes, stolen kisses under starlit skies, all culminating in this icy silence. the roar of the austrian national anthem barely registered as you stared at the podium, charles' jubilant face mocking your shattered heart.
max's reckless move on leclerc in the final lap had cost him the win and ignited a firestorm within you. the frustration, the fear, the betrayal – a cocktail of emotions that left you speechless. max, on the other hand, was fuming. he'd taken the risk for the win, a win that could have closed the gap in the championship. your disapproval felt like another blow, a rejection that added insult to injury.
charles, ever the mediator, couldn't bear the tension any longer. after the podium celebrations, he found you drowning your sorrows – non-alcoholic champagne, of course – in the red bull hospitality area. "y/n," he started cautiously, "we need to talk."
you sighed, the dam threatening to burst. "not now, charles. please."
he persisted, his monegasque accent soft yet firm. "it's breaking him too, you know."
you scoffed. "right, because it's all about him."
his words hung heavy in the air. a flicker of doubt ignited within you. could he be right? but before you could process it, max entered, a dark cloud following him. he scanned the room, his gaze landing on you.
across the room, charles, his own disappointment at a missed podium simmering, couldn't bear the tension any longer. he stormed over, his gaze hard. "this is ridiculous," he declared, voice taut. "talk to each other."
max, surrounded by team personnel, barely glanced up. "nothing to say."
you choked back a retort, the sting of betrayal raw in your throat. charles, seeing the storm brewing in your eyes, turned to max, his voice low, fierce. "that wasn't racing, max. you almost took me out. don't you get it?"
max flinched at the mention of your name, but his jaw remained clenched. "it was a racing incident, charles. end of story."
the tension crackled. you stood abruptly, tears blurring your vision, and stormed out, the echo of cheers hollow in your ears. hurt morphed into anger. you stormed out of the room, the cool night air doing little to soothe your burning cheeks. tears, stinging and hot, welled up in your eyes blurring the path ahead.
meanwhile, max had been drowning his frustration, not in champagne, but in self-recrimination. he replayed the race a thousand times in his mind, each time cringing at his recklessness. but most of all, he saw your tear-filled eyes, a sight that twisted his gut with regret. he had been so focused on his own disappointment, he hadn't seen the hurt etched in your face.
bursting out , he scanned the darkness, his heart pounding with a newfound urgency. he found you on a small bridge overlooking the track, the city lights twinkling below. you were facing away from him, your shoulders trembling with silent sobs.
he walked up slowly, his voice rough with remorse. "y/n," he called out.
you stiffened at the sound, but didn't turn. he stood beside you, a heavy silence settling between you both. finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, he confessed, "i was an idiot. i took a stupid risk and… and i scared you. seeing you cry… that hurt more than anything."
you still refused to meet his gaze. finally, a choked sob escaped your lips.
the sound tore through max's defenses. he closed the remaining space and took a cautious step closer. seeing the tear tracks staining your cheeks, the vulnerability etched on your face, a wave of regret washed over him. he knelt before you, his voice laced with remorse. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i didn't think it through. thinking of losing...it clouded my judgment."
slowly, you turned towards him. the anger that had burned bright in your eyes had softened, replaced by a deep hurt. "it scared me, max," you whispered. "the thought of losing you...of losing charles..."
max reached for your hand, his touch gentle. "i know," he murmured. "i never meant to put either of you at risk. especially you."
he held your gaze, and in his eyes, you saw a depth of emotion you hadn't witnessed before, an apology that went beyond words.
the road to forgiveness wouldn't be easy, but in that moment, a flicker of hope ignited. the roar of the engines outside might drown out some conversations, but the one between you and max had just begun. and for the first time since that reckless move on the track, a tiny corner of your heart dared to believe.
#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#mv1#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv33#mv33 imagine#mv33 x reader#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles lecrelc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x female reader#y/n#ferrari#formula#requests
401 notes
·
View notes
Text
—in which turians gossip.
Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's youngest?
His son? Yeah. Apparently he got detention again. It's the fifth time this week. I don't know why that child keeps talking back. It's like he has no respect for authority.
Well, they'll beat that out of him at bootcamp. He'll fall in line eventually.
Why can't he just be normal? All the other kids his age understand this already. Maybe something's wrong with him...
I wonder. He's not growing up into a good turian... Poor Castis.
Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son?
--
Yes. What a waste. I heard he ranked at the very top in all sharpshooting and hand to hand combat tests... and all of that for nothing.
What's wrong with him?
He will never make a good turian.
Spirits, poor Castis. First the accident, and now that son of his...
--
What about his son? I thought he was normal now. Didn't he find a job, outside the military?
He did. Citadel Security, like his father. Easier outlet for that... passion of his. You know. All that talk of justice and right and wrong... Castis hoped working at C-Sec would help him get it out of his system. Start being normal. Maybe he would finally burn through that... energy.
Did it work?
He's constantly fighting with his superiors. Disobeying orders. Questioning their judgement. I hear he's just as much trouble out there as he ever was down here.
I don't envy Castis right now. Hearing about your son constantly failing at the job you excelled at... It's got to do something to you.
Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son? I heard he actually quit C-Sec now. Couldn't even conform to that. Now he's left the Citadel on a whim, with some human, on an impulse...
--
Poor Castis.
Poor Castis.
I heard Castis Vakarian's son was part of that mess at the Citadel, with the geth.
--
Apparently he's aiming to be a Spectre now. I don't know how his father is going to take that.
I wouldn't want to be in his plates right now.
Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son? He dropped out of the Spectre training program.
--
Have you heard? He's gone mad.
I heard he finally snapped. Had some sort of identity crisis, left spirits know where without saying anything.
I suppose it was always a matter of time. There's always been something wrong with that boy. Still, his poor family...
Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son?
--
Have you heard about Castis Vakarian? Yeah, he has kis kids staying over.
I heard. Just when you think it couldn't get any worse. Working with a terrorist organisation. Human supremacists, too... I can't imagine what his father's going through right now.
--
I heard it's a difficult family situation, yes. The mother's dying, and he... At least he still has his daughter, not like that good for nothing son of his.
Have you seen him? What a disgrace. Half his body covered in scars like that. Wearing his failures right on his face... His family must be so ashamed.
Heard he's saying he's fallen in love with an alien. A human of all species.
Disgusting.
That's just adding insult to injury. His poor family.
Poor Castis.
Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son?
--
Isn't he the one in charge of that refugee camp on the Citadel? Who even decided to put him in a leadership role?
I don't know. I heard he's friends with the new Primarch. I heard he failed upwards. I heard he's in an important position now, in charge of helping with that war summit.
This damn war. They'll promote anyone as long as they're still alive.
--
--
--
Have you seen? Commander Shepard's written a private account about the Reaper War. Have you read this?
--
Incredible.
Heartwarming.
Inspiring.
Unbelievable.
Beautiful.
She wrote about Garrus Vakarian.
They were close. He was her lieutenant. Her closest aide. Her best friend.
He held her up when she stumbled. He asked her to take care of herself. He checked in with her. He cared. When everyone else saw the Commander, he was the only one who saw a person. He was the only one who asked how she was doing. He was the only one who supported her.
She wrote about everything he did for her.
He's the only reason she had the strength to win that war.
He saved the world.
--
--
Have you heard about Castis Vakarian?
--
You mean Garrus Vakarian's father? Yeah. I heard. He must be so proud.
183 notes
·
View notes
Text
Teach Me VI
Final
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader
Genre: smut, humor, college au
Warnings: angst, pining, crying, alcohol consumption, jealous pouty DK, meddling Seungkwan and Hoshi, eventual smut, dry humping, making out, face fucking, munch DK as always, unprotected sex, cream pie, they're simps for each and its disgusting!, DK wearing a chain that dangles in readers face bc im sick and twisted, kinda choking but not really?
Length: ~7.4k
Note: SURPRISE!! ITS HERE!!!! this series started in OCTOBER which is wild to think about. two months of these two plaguing my day to day and so many amazing readers interacting with the story honestly makes a little emotional for it to end. this is the first series i've ever done and now it's over so soon but there are bigger and better things on the horizon! (goes and cries in the corner) If you notice any errors or typos pls ignore.
This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!
read more here
[MONDAY 11:23 AM]
YOU: Home
Mr. Boo: Thank you! Love you!
Mr. Boo: We can have a bff night when I get back
[MONDAY 4:48 PM]
DOKYEOM: Hope you got home safe
DOKYEOM: I’m sorry, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.
DOKYEOM: Can we talk this week?
Dokyeom doesn’t leave his room the rest of the weekend. A combination of fear of Seungkwan beating the crap out of him and absolute heartbreak keep him wrapped in the covers. Not even Soonyoung can elicit more than a half-hearted grunt when checking if his roommate is still alive.
The drive back to campus is no different. Staring longingly out the window, Dokyeom stares at his unanswered messages. When he goes to your Instagram he finds your account missing with the sinking realization you blocked him.
Seventy two of the best and subsequent worse hours of his life crumbled your fragile relationship. He thought you returned his feelings.
After Soonyoung blabled a drunken confession on Dokyeom’s behalf, he worried you’d drive off in the night; swiftly rejecting him. But you wrapped your arms around him and held him as you slept. Kissed him awake in the early morning sun, nothing but a soft smile and presses of lips across his face. It was better than anything Dokyeom hoped for. He thought it meant you liked him back even if you didn’t say it yet.
But then you interrogated him and the hot tub and it all came crashing down. You were trying to let him down easy, buttering him up before giving him a reality check. It’d hurt of course. The tsunami of shame at thinking he had a chance and then adding insult to injury when you called him childish.
Dokyeom knows he was wrong for his reaction but embarrassment sent him spiraling and he needed to get as far away from you as possible.
And now that he’d succeed, he doesn't think he can find a way back.
—
Monday and Tuesday are spent suffocating under a mound of blankets, munching on a carton of ice cream, and crying till your head hurts and your throat is sore. The string of texts from Dokyeom remains thoroughly ignored; but each buzz of your phone raises your heart rate to unhealthy levels until you read the notification from some store offering a discount.
You ignore the string of messages from Dokyeom, tempted more and more to block him as they come through; but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Just like you can’t bring yourself to delete the pictures of you two together peppered throughout your camera roll, or the most recent video that does nothing but make you sick to your stomach.
Tuesday night your roommate returns to campus, cheery and well rested from a weekend with her boyfriend back home. You hide from her friendly questions about your weekend in the bathroom, shrouded in steam and bubbles.
Looking at yourself in the mirror after you're sufficiently pruned and chilled from freeze drops, you notice the traces of Dokyeom still on your skin.
A tiny maroon bruise is fading to a sick green right under your collar bone. Prodding it with the tip of your finger, you wince at the tenderness of the flesh.
You hate it.
Hate how somehow your eyes are thick with a gloss of tears at the sight of a hickey, they way you can’t catch your breath when you realize the shirt you brought in with you is another one of his you lifted over the months.
Dokyeom hadn’t been your boyfriend. You two hadn’t even been casually dating. Over and over again you remind yourself you were just friends who had sex, and you shouldn’t be this torn up over a guy. Dokyeom didn’t like you and that wasn’t something to hold against him.
But the facts do nothing to stop the knot permanently lodged in your throat.
—
The first time you see Dokyeom post-not-breakup, he’s sitting in one of the rolling chairs at the mahogany table you two claimed for your usual study sessions.
Blood frozen, heart clenching unbearably, you turn and walk right back out the revolving glass doors, hoping he didn’t see you.
But the echo of quick footsteps behind you say otherwise.
“Hey! Y/N!”
Faltering for a moment, you keep walking as if you hadn’t heard anything. And because the universe has a sick sense of humor, the crossing light turns red just as you approach, leaving you stranded with the one person you didn’t want to see.
You whip around at tap against your arm with such ferocity you nearly stumble.
Dokyeom has the gall to smile at you sheepishly before opening his mouth, “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“You weren’t in lab yesterday.”
“Nope.” You respond monotonously, glancing behind you at the still red crossing light.
“Did you need notes or—”
“No, I got them already.”
“Oh, well—”
The light turns green, allowing you to race across the road before Dokyeom can finish his thought. The heat of his gaze doesn't leave your back until you turn down the next road leading you home.
—
Your second interaction with Dokyeom is in the same sterile lab your friendship started. You slip inside just before class starts, narrowly avoiding getting locked out by your grumpy instructor.
Sliding into an open seat near the door, you stare straight ahead as he delves into the topic for this afternoon, pointedly ignoring the pair of eyes watching you from the familiar station at the back of the room.
“Finals are almost upon us people so I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that the lab is not open after hours. Meaning, you should prioritize your time in this room. Now let’s get started.”
The guy you’ve been partnered with is nice enough, willing to follow your lead as you read off the necessary equipment. He even manages to crack a few jokes, though not funny you’re thankful for the distraction.
You learn his name is San, he’s an underclassman and he doesn’t understand anything about the class despite attending every lecture and office hour available.
When he leans over to copy the results you’ve scratched into your notebook, you hear a crack and shatter behind you. A dozen heads twist towards the source of commotion, finding a red faced Dokyeom staring at you.
“Mr. Lee! May I remind you our lab equipment isn’t cheap!”
“Sorry,” he mutters, shuffling towards the broom hanging on the wall.
You focus on ignoring him the rest of class, which is surprisingly easy with your new partner pestering you with inane questions.
A lull hits, waiting for the digital scale to spit out a final reading. You managed to pull well ahead of schedule, calling over your instructor to verify your results before collecting your things.
“So,” San starts, stuffing his own notebook in his bag. “Would you be down to tutor me sometime?”
“Oh, I uh—”
“No pressure! I just saw some of the old quizzes in your folder and thought maybe you could help me out.”
“Sure,” you smile, taking his phone to enter his number.
Voices from the different stations echo off the blank walls, drowning your conversation out.
“Awesome! My boyfriend took this class last year but did about as well as I’m doing.”
Returning his phone back, you start walking to the door. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, he told me to take geology instead but I didn’t listen.” He laughs, stepping forward to hold the heavy wooden door open for you to pass.
You miss the sound of a second beaker breaking as you walk down the hall with your new friend.
—
“Dude, you have got to calm down.” Soonyoung pleads, head hanging off the couch as his legs extend into the air. He swears the increased blood flow makes him smarter.
Dokyeom nearly wears a rut into the carpet from his pacing across the length of their tiny living room. He’s been in a mood since that afternoon, watching his not-girlfriend-possibly-no-longer-friend giggle with some dude that wasn’t him. And then give her number to said dude. In front of him. All while she completely ignored his existence.
“He probably just asked her to study together.”
Jealousy isn’t Dokyeom’s thing. Sure he may whine and pout if he isn’t getting enough attention, but he’s never got the blood boil urge scream like he has right now. And about a girl that won’t even look at him.
Tangling both fists in his hair, Dokyeom tries to calm down. Soonyoung was probably right. You’re a genius at chemistry, you’re slated to officially tutor through the library next semester pending final grades, and the guy Dokyeom swears he’s never seen in class most likely asked you for help. It’s not his place to be jealous.
“Hate to be that guy but you need to get a grip”
It's easier said than done. There's four more weeks of class plus a four hour final and your Seungkwan’s friend. You’re not going to disappear after the semester ends and Dokyeom’s feelings surely aren’t going anywhere given he’s got a constant reminder that you’re the woman he lost his virginity to.
If he knew inviting you to that party at the beginning of the semester would end up like this, he'd have sat somewhere else the first day of lab.
Soonyoung chokes on his own saliva when Dokyeom collapses on the floor with a reluctant, “You’re right.”
“I am?” Eyes bugging so hard they nearly pop from his head.
“I just have to move on.”
They both silently agree to pretend Dokyeom is capable of that.
—
San and his boyfriend, Jay, turn out to be horrible study partners. You are hardly able to focus from the way your abs hurt from laughter; Jay has a talent for self-deprecating humor.
“You didn’t!” You gasp, ignoring the daggers being glared into you back by other library goers.
Typically you’d respect the needs of others, but they chose to sit on the first floor; if they needed real quiet they should have sat upstairs where it’s enforced by a graduate librarian with nothing better to do.
Jay nods solemnly, “I threw up on him during our first date. But he,” flinging an accusatory finger at his boyfriend, “insisted we go to some weird food truck so it’s his own fault.”
“You said you liked to try new things!” San defends.
“Not food poisoning!”
Descending into giggles, you feel sorry Seungkwan is missing out on two people he’d get along with. But he canceled at the last minute, leaving you at the large oak table all by your lonesome until you’d run into your classmate, looking for a seat.
From the corner of your eye, you see a familiar someone approaching. White blonde hair and trademark grin, Soonyoung stops at the edge of the table.
“Hey, Y/N” he grins.
Sending him a tightlipped smile you return the greeting.
Soonyoung introduces himself to your tablemates, both just as friendly as he. Thick palpable tension descends into the warm atmosphere and you’re about to rise and get another coffee just to escape it when Soonyoung turns back to you.
“Could I take a look at your results from the last lab? We didn’t get to finish in time.”
The unspoken half of ‘we’ is Dokyeom.
You hate the flare of curiosity flashing in your head. When you partnered with Dokyeom you always finished on time if not early, even with his joking.
“Ugh, sure.” You agree, digging into your bag for your notebook.
Not waiting for an invitation, Soonyoung slides into the chair next to you, pulling out his own notebook to copy down your answers quickly. But even after collecting the necessary info, he lingers.
“So you’re in lab with us too, right?” He asks San.
“Yeah, but I’m probably taking it again next year even with Y/N’s help.” San smiles.
“And you?” Soonyoung asks Jay.
“No, I took it last year.”
“Glad to see someone can make it out alive! Do you guys mind if I hang out until my friend arrives?”
The friend is definitely Dokyeom but you don’t want to look like a bitch in front of your new acquaintances nor have to explain the mess of your love life to either of them.
Soonyoung’s self satisfied grin when you flash a tight lipped smile and nod nearly tempts you into strangling him. Why is he choosing to torture you? It’s Dokyeom’s fault no matter how you look at the situation. He tricked you; had you falling for the saccharine persona and ambiguous confessions. Dokyeom rejected you at the cabin for everyone to see, humiliated you, and then had the nerve to act upset when you wouldn’t speak to him.
You try to focus on the worksheet in front of you, a proactive effort to prepare for the final exam still far away. Drowning in extra credit had been an exhaustive effort to get your mind off of your issues but Soonyoung had to ruin it. And now he’s laughing with San and Jay like best friends and it’s all too much.
Shooting up from your seat, they all stop to stare as shaky hands pack up your materials. “Sorry, I forgot I had a thing. Somewhere else. Bye!”
Halfway to the door before anyone thinks to question your eagerness to leave, you walk right into another person.
“Shit sorry!” The faceless stranger exclaims as your books and papers go flying.
“No, I should have been watching wher–”
And when you look up, Dokyeom is staring back.
“Sorry, let me help you.”
“It's fine!” You snap, scrambling to shove everything into your bag.
You will not cry in the library: not over Dokyeom, not in front of Dokyeom. But once the concrete steps out front greet you the first tear falls and they don’t stop until you fall asleep curled up in your bed.
—
Later that week, in the sanctuary of your dorm, you indulge in contraband alcohol and the hype of your best friend.
“You need to just rip the bandaid off.” Seungkwan announces, arms thrown wide to punctuate his point.
“And how do I do that? I still have class with him!”
“Okay but how much of his stuff is still here?”
“Only like a few things.” you shrug, glancing around the room.
“Oh, really?” Seungkwan asks, throwing himself from his perch on your bed, crossing to the basket full of laundry in front of your closet. “Because this is a hoodie from his high school, this is the shirt I got him for his birthday a few years ago,” he shuffles around the collection of socks and pants to pull more of Dokyeom’s belongings out. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t wear boxers.”
Seungkwan launched the wad of clothing your way, disappearing into the bathroom in search of more evidence of your ex-friend with benefits.
“You let him keep a toothbrush here?” Seungkwan yells, head popping out with the neon green piece of plastic dangling between his fingers.
It's tossed into the growing pile at the foot of your bed, your rage-fueled focus on the smattering of objects on your desk.
More cheap wine and outrageous laughter has Seungkwan encouraging you to race across campus and return everything as soon as possible.
Red faced, he steadies you by your arms, “Listen, the sooner you get rid of this stuff the better. You’re like subconsciously holding on to him or whatever.”
Mooney eyed, you nod at your friend’s wisdom, scrambling for a bag.
The tote of Dokyeom’s belongings you’ve accumulated over the months sits heavy on your shoulders; bulging with the assortment of clothes, a spare phone charger, and a book that was severely overdue at the library you’d found under your bed.
Each click of your shoe against the tile floor echoes in the eerie silence as you walk down the hall towards the door of his apartment. The sterile lighting and gray walls are familiar yet alien under the new circumstances you're visiting.
You won’t be greeted with the smile you’ve grown to miss or the puppy-like excitement that once made you feel special. Both things of the past you hope to forget. No one had your heart fluttering or twisting in knots the way Dokyeom had. But those happy memories are just memories. And the sooner you cut him out, the sooner you can forget them.
Your fiery determination to get over him ignited in the walls of your bedroom had begun to smolder as the chilly wind and movement sobered you up.
A large part of you hopes it’ll be Soonyoung answering the door, Dokyeom absent for whatever convenient reason as you dumped his belongings and walked away for the last time. Worse case scenario, neither are home and you're left feeling like an idiot, lugging the ridiculously heavy bag back across campus in the freezing wind and rain.
Worse-er case scenario, Dokyeom is home.
The door to the boys’ apartment is like all the others, but the hot pink “please don’t do coke in our bathroom” doormat stands out. A gift from Jeonghan, if you remember correctly.
A quick rap of knocks announces your presence before you can lose your nerve, stepping back as you wait for it to crack open.
As luck would have it, Dokyeom answers the door.
“Um–” he starts, clearly confused by what he’s seeing.
Shoulders square, back pin straight, you thrust the bag at him. “Here’s your stuff.”
“Oh.” Dokyeom exclaims, still confused, but cradling the tote into his stomach.
“Well, bye.” You turn to leave but stop when he calls you back.
“I can grab your stuff real quick. Since you’re already here.”
It is a horrible idea. Alone with Dokyeom, in his apartment, where the only person to hold you accountable is yourself. But you can be done with this entire mess once you have the hodge podge of items you’ve no doubt accumulated here.
Nodding once, you follow as Dokyeom turns to head towards his bedroom.
Suffocating tension, thick as tar, fills the air. Dokyeom doesn't attempt to replace it with ill timed jokes as he digs in the black dresser in the corner of his room. The bottom left drawer had been long cleaned out of his own clothes, making room for the odds and ends left behind following your rendezvous.
A sizable pile of clothes lands on his unmade bed, followed by some toiletries you forgot at the cabin in your haste to flee.
Your ears are ringing from the quiet at this point, unable to look at Dokyeom swapping his belongings from the canvas tote with your own. Focusing on your phone, you scroll mindlessly, as Dokyeom works slowly to prolong the torture. He unfolds and refolds all the shirts, lost pairs of pants and shorts, before cramming them into the bag. If you took a second to look at him, you’d see longing glances in your direction with each item he packs away. But you don’t chance it until he approaches you when he’s finished.
“Here,” he says, eyes downcast as he hands you back the full bag.
Lifting it from his hands, you move back to the living room, bee lining for the front door and the sobering cold air outside.
“Wait.”
The smooth metal doorknob is cold against the wrinkles of your palm. All you need to do is twist and it's over. Unlatch the lock, step outside and your relationship with Dokyeom, whatever it may have been, is done. No more crying, no more wondering. Only four more classes and you can leave the mess of the past semester behind you forever.
But you can’t do it. The smallest part of your heart, buried under the weight of anger and sadness, pleads for you to stay. To give Dokyeom one last chance.
You wait for him to say something else, not moving a muscle as you take shallow breaths. Body tense in preparation, you’re afraid you might shake out of your skin. Being alone with Dokyeom was a stupid idea.
Realizing you're not going to leave, you hear him shuffle closer.
You jump when he speaks again, voice right over your shoulder. “Can we please talk?”
“What’s there to talk about?” You frown.
At his responding silence, you chance a glance over your shoulder, met with sad brown eyes.
“I just—,” he shakes his head, chin tipping towards the floor to examine his socks.
Prompting him again, “What do you want, Dokyeom?”
“You asked me if I liked you… and I do.”
You squash the seed of hope rooting in your chest, afraid that if he tramples it again you’ll never recover. Turning to face him, you cross your arms pensively. His confession should send your heart racing and your cheeks flushing. But why does he sound so sad about it?
Dokyeom scrubs a hand down his face in frustration. “I should have told you sooner but I— I kept waiting for the right time and then that night happened and I thought I messed everything up. But then we started fooling around so I thought ‘there’s no way she likes me.’ You know?
From where you’re standing, Dokyeom is exactly the kind of guy anyone would go for. Warm as a ray of sunshine, contagious laughter, thoughtful. Excited by life, and brimming with affection for anyone lucky enough to be considered his friend.
It’s a shame he can’t see himself the way you see him.
“I know all you wanted was to hook up and I was fine with that until you came to the cabin. Soonyoung had to run his mouth, and I thought you were trying to let me down easy in the hot tub so I got embarrassed.”
Biting your lip to stop the rebuttal simmering on the tip of your tongue, you feel the scowl melt off your face, morphing into a questioning gaze.
“You’re like, the coolest person I know. You’re funny and you’re smart and pretty, god you’re so pretty.” he breaths, finally looking at you. ���And I feel like every time I get to see you I can’t breathe. And us hooking up made it worse because I’ve liked you since the first day of class when you sat down next to me and smiled at me. I thought I was gonna throw up.” Dokyeom raises his hands in defense as you scoff, quickly clarifying, “In a good way! You just— you make me nervous and stupid and now you hate me.”
He finishes the last part in a whisper, face vulnerable, looking at you helplessly.
“I don’t hate you.” You warble, launching yourself into his arms, tangling your limbs around him to squeeze as close as possible. It’s ungraceful, your head knocking into his chin, his feet scrambling to balance the unexpected shift of weight. But Dokyeom barely hesitates before pulling you into his chest, face buried in your neck while trying to force you into his skin by his arms around your waist.
Two puzzle pieces, carved to fit perfectly together.
“You don’t?”
Squeezing him tighter, you calm in the thud of his heart and the pine scent of his cologne. You both simply bask in the presence of one another. At a week and a half, this is the longest you’ve gone without the other since you started your arrangement.
Dokyeom presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, sweet as sugar. His lips ghost against your hairline as he starts to speak again. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.”
“I shouldn’t have called you childish.” You apologize, tipping your head back to meet his gaze.
“I mean you were right. I was being a dick.”
“But I wasn’t in any shape to call you out when I was doing the same thing.”
“The same…” Dokyeom echoes, confused.
“If we weren’t so dumb we could have been dating for weeks by now.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” You smile.
“We really are dumb.”
Pure unadulterated joy takes flight on his face. Dokyeom cups your face in his hands, forehead meeting your own as you smile at him, his own dazzling in return.
“Yeah, but at least we have each other.”
The bark of awkward laughter and shaky words are unstoppable as you cower in his arms.
“So you’re okay with me calling you my girlfriend?”
“You can call me whatever you want.” You sigh, biting your lip at the idea.
“Even my shmoopie poopie?”
Nose scrunching as you laugh at his ridiculousness, you shake your head vigorously in objection. “You can call me whatever you want besides that.”
“Baby cakes?” He asks, peppering a kiss on your cheek.
“No!”
“Honeybuns?”
Another kiss on the tip of your nose.
“No.”
“What about–”
A firm press to his mouth silences Dokyeom as you hum.
—
Soonyoung returns to his apartment after another failed date, eager to shoot the shit with his roommate over a few beers and some video games. But when he opens the door to his home, he finds a trail of clothes flung haphazardly across the furniture, leading straight to said roommate's room.
No fucking way. Soonyoung thinks.
Then he hears a thud from behind the door, followed by a familiar laugh he hasn’t heard in the apartment in well over two weeks.
No FUCKING way! He huffs, reaching for his phone.
—
Down the street, Seungkwan smirks as the expected ding of a new Venmo notification shrills through the silence of your dorm:
“Kwon Soonyoung paid you $50.00. – HOW DID YOU KNOW? – Your Venmo balance is now $135.00.”
Epilogue:
Finals season rushes forward rapidly. Two days before you’re set to fly back home for winter break, Chem grades are released.
Another pair of matching As to be celebrated in typical fashion but this time you’re Dokyeom’s girlfriend and he’s sweating like it’s his first time all over again. The night you both confessed had been you last night together. Dokyeom insisted you take things slow, his fear of messing up again forcing him to take caution.
It's sweet. How he wants to take you out, wine and dine you as if a certain video didn’t still exist on both your phones. And you’d enjoyed the full experience too; walks around campus with interlaced fingers, shy glances in class, and girlish giggles as he offered his jacket on a cold night. The innocent good night kisses dropped on your lips in front of your door that have Dokyeom insisting “just one more” for an hour before he finally lets you slip inside your room.
It’d been everything you dreamed of and more.
But you're both tired of make outs that lead nowhere. Of sitting in Dokyeom’s lap at parties and not letting your hands wonder like you’re both dying too. Waking up in his bed and pretending you don’t feel him nudging the curve of your ass as before he hides in the bathroom to take care of his boner; leaving you to stare at the ceiling, fighting the urge to follow him into the shower and lend a helping hand.
Tonight, you’ve reached the boiling point and it’s spilling over.
“‘s okay?” He asks into the curve of your neck, palms gliding up your stomach underneath the soft cream sweater you’d worn to dinner.
Humming as your head lulls against the interior of his front door, the warmth of his mouth and hands making your brain fuzzy. Tonight, everything feels like more. Your nipples peak at the smallest brush of his tongue, back bowing under the swipes of his thumb against your ribs; even when he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your intertwined fingers on the walk to his apartment ripped the air from your lungs.
Dokyeom feels the nerves of that first night, but you’re acting like the desperate virgin he’d been. Drooling to touch and be touched. For your boyfriend to string you out one last time before you both return home for a few weeks of winter break only to pick right back up in the new year.
Snaking a hand down his front, you palm the half hard length with a firm pressure that pulls his hips forward like a magnet. A strained grunts sings in your ear as Dokyeom rocks firmly in your grip, pressing you into the wall under his torturous grind.
Turning to nudge your nose into his cheek softly, hot kisses dropping across his jaw as you bid him to take off his pants; pushing them down clumsily. You don’t bother with the brass button or rough zipper, blinded by desperation and simply clawing the stiff material downwards in an effort to get beneath.
You manage to trickle to your knees, slipping through Dokyeom’s hold like water. The hard floor biting into your skin as you kneel before him to mouth at the thin fabric of his boxer. Dokyeom’s elbows land against the wall, caging you in as he watches from above; entranced by the shallow dip of your lips over the covered head of his cock and the lash of your tongue where you taste him through the fabric.
Tonight isn’t the night for teasing, so you have his boxers landing atop his jeans around his ankles in a blink. Tongue following the vein bulging on the underside of his cock as your hand returns to allow your thumb to dig into his slit.
Dokyeom whimpers a pathetic “fuck,” as you play with him, eagerly lapping up his shaft before sucking him into your mouth; hand dropping to cup his balls, the other rest on his stomach to hold his own shirt out of the way.
You missed how responsive he is to your touch, melting in the palm of your hand as he chases the warmth of your mouth with his hips. Anyone who walks by the door would undoubtedly hear what’s happening on the other side, the choked whimpers from you and guttural moans from Dokyeom combining into a lewd symphony.
Head hitting the wall behind you with a dull thud, you let Dokyeom take over; humming as each press forward leaves the taste of his cock on your tongue. There’s something degrading in letting him fuck your mouth like this, sandwiched between his hips and the wall as he uses you to get off.
You gasp for breath when he pulls away, tongue sticking out to bid him back but his slender fingers cupping your chin distract you straight into his lips.
Pulling you to your feet, Dokyeom dips his tongue between your lips as he leads you blindly to the couch. His mouth is nothing but taking; stealing your breath away, your sanity. Things you’d happily let him have if it meant he wouldn’t stop. But Dokyeom was a giver too. A slide of his tongue lit a fire under your skin, fanning the desperation bordering on depravity.
“Fuck me,” you plead, grinding your aching cunt against his thigh.
Dokyeom responds by pressing into you harder, teeth tearing into your bottom lip as his cock drools against your thigh, staining your jeans.
You're so turned on it hurts, pussy painfully empty and panties drenched from heavy petting. If Dokyeom doesn’t do something soon, you have half a mind to get yourself off without him.
Dokyeom is trying, fighting to not to blow his load on your leg as you whine and arch beneath him. For him. But when you manage to close your fist around his length, giving a firm tug with the twist around the head you know he goes crazy for, it’s all over. Dokyeom’s core tightens as he spills on your sweater, streaks of his cum ruining the fabric as he pants into your mouth. Your tight grip doesn’t falter as you work him through it, teeth bruising his jaw as he paints you with his seed.
When Dokyeom gains sentience again, he winces in shame.
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t— I wouldn’t,” he tries to apologize, but stops when you part your lips to lap at your stained fingers; eyes trained on the pink of your tongue dipping out to swipe against the tips for taste.
Mouth wide as he stares, Dokyeom thinks he might come again without any help as you suck your fingers. His own dip into the pool of cum dimpling across your stomach, lifting to your mouth to replace yours. Dokyeom groans as your eyes never leave his, heated and heavy lidded as lick them clean and swallow his cum.
Dropping his hand to the back of your neck, he angles your head so his tongue can delve into your mouth. It’s messy and disgusting but you like it and that’s all Dokyeom cares about as he works to free you both of your clothes. He’s stark naked easily, shirt gone over the back of the couch in no time. But your clothes require more focus than either of you are capable of when Dokyeom is on top of you.
His feet hit the ground before he rises to stand, dragging you up to roughly undress you. You don’t seem to mind if the way you fist your jeans down is an inclination. Outer layers gone, Dokyeom finally gets a peek at the early Christmas present you’d been hoping to surprise him with.
Lacy maroon panties and a match bra hug your figure, accentuating your shape in the most mouthwater ways. Eyebrows raised to his hairline, Dokyeom heaves at the masterpiece you present him with.
Drops of your flesh peek through the holes in the lace, teasing him with what’s underneath. The high cut sides of your thong dig into your hips, making your legs look impossibly long and highlighting the sway of your thighs. Straining to pull his eyes up further, Dokyeom finds the bottom hem of your bra. Tongue rolling out of his mouth as the cups push your breasts up and together, teasing Dokyeom with ideas of fucking his cock between them as you lick at the tip.
You look like a goddess and Dokyeom is happy to get on his knees to worship every inch.
Dokyeom catches you smirking at his obvious reaction when he finally looks at your face. Stepping into his space, your fingers find purchase in the short hairs at the base of his head. A cold sweat breaks on his brow as you smile like the cat who got the canary.
“Do you like my outfit, Kyeomie?” You ask, tone deceptively sweet.
If he was capable of any thought beyond cataloging the swaths of naked skin and curves, maybe he’d answer more eloquently than grunting like a caveman.
“I picked it for you.”
Dokyeom lets his hands find your hips, squeezing the plush flesh in his palms as you continue to toy with him. His fingers pluck the thin elastic while his mind wanders down the extensive list of things he’s dying to do to you.
“Do you wanna see the whole thing?”
“There’s more?”
Falling to the floor, you dig into the pocket of your jeans for whatever the last piece of your outfit, if you could call it that. Rising again you present him with a thin piece of ribbon and a silver chain, both causing Dokyeom’s face to twist in confusion.
You prompt him to take the scarlet ribbon, a perfect match to the set you’ve donned, allowing Dokyeom to spot the clasp at the ends and the small silver charm dangling in the middle.
A sun is embossed on the front of the circular piece of silver. And engraved on the back is his name.
Having his name around your throat while he fucked you isn’t a kink he knew existed. But now Dokyeom is pretty sure he’ll be haunted by the idea for the rest of his life. The silver chain still in your hands has a similar charm but with a moon. Dokyeom’s vision goes fuzzy and his brain clouds at the assumption your name is on the back to match.
“Will you help me put it on?” You ask innocently, turn around so Dokyeom can slip what he can only describe as a mock collar around your neck.
Dokyeom latches the clasp with shaky hands, the strip of silk pulled taunt around your neck with each breath. When you face him once again, the charm sits in the hollow of your throat, silver winking at him seductively.
The icy metal of the chain bites into his skin erotically as you raise to clasp it around his neck. Your nose nudges against his jaw, a ghosting open mouth kiss landing on his jugular as the charm teases the muscles of his chest where it dangles.
You land on the couch with a squeak, taken aback by Dokyeom shredding the delicate fabric of your panties with clumsy hands as he struggles to get them off you. Bullying his way between your legs, he apologizes with a heavenly strip of his tongue through your slit.
He eats you like a man starved, nails leaving crescents in the tops of your thighs as he spreads you so wide the muscles in your hips scream in objection. Dokyeom’s tongue dips into your hole, collecting your essence on his tongue before spitting it back on your clit and digging in. The swollen nub slips against the flat of his wet muscle, and when his lips gently close around it he sucks just the way you taught him to you he’s rewarded with a wanton sob.
Whines fly from between your lips at the torturous pleasure, thrashing as Dokyeom uses all his strength to pin you and place. Spots dance along your vision, expanding as two fingers push past your folds to stretch you out. Dokyeom knows your pussy like the back of his hand and he stuffs you just right with his fingers.
All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hold on tightly as you fly over the edge. Racing forward under the heat of Dokyeom’s mouth and harsh thrusts of his fingers till you weep pitifully. You’re floating through space under his attention; mouth open over silent begs not to stop, eyes clenched shut. Every beat of your frantic heart carries satisfaction through tense muscles till you are pliant and boneless.
“Too much,” you whimper, thighs forcing close around his head.
Dokyeom takes it in stride. The combination of your essence and his saliva soaking chin, leaving a damp trail across your body as he kisses his way to your mouth.
His thumb finds the ribbon taunt around your throat, focusing on the piece of metal resting against your skin as you taste yourself on his tongue.
Panting into his mouth, you mewl something vaguely sounding like “want you.”
Luckily, Dokyeom is more than happy to give you whatever you want.
Nodding like a bobble head, he pulls you down into his lap as he kneels on the floor. The head of his cock proddes against your entrance, slipping in just enough for you to take the rest with ease.
The stretch is nothing short of bliss; so deep you can taste him in the back of your throat. Dokyeom fills you perfectly, the small nip of pain from not taking him in the past month only multiplying the satisfaction you feel at finally having him inside you again.
With herculean effort, you rise to allow only a few inches to exit before dropping back down. Hands searching for leverage, you balance on the cushions behind you as you grind into his lap.
Dokyeom doesn’t know where to look, overwhelmed by his options; your face twisted around gasping breaths; or your chest, still clad in your bra, tits bouncing with each movement; or where his cock disappears inside you.
But the silver heart around your throat seems to snag his focus easily.
Dokyeom isn’t possessive but the way it not so subtly declares you as his makes his cock throb. He’s the only one that gets to have you like this, and you him. The twin pendants remind him you’re his girlfriend and everything beyond slips away as he watches it jerk around with every movement.
Before long, your legs burn from effort, ruining your already unstable motions into nothing more than stuttered ruts. Dokyeom’s hands palming your ass assist in lifting you to the couch, limbs awkwardly sprawled off the edges but he doesn’t slow while your nails scratch deep lines into his shoulders.
“Oh, don’t stop! Fuck, please don’t stop.” You beg, head thrown back into the cushions.
Stopping sounds like the worst idea he’s ever heard. Dokyeom needs this. Gloved snuggly in your heat after so long is the only cure for the constant plague of memories of pestering him day and night. He knows they won’t go away but at least he won’t feel like ripping his skin off every time you're within a fifteen foot radius.
The wet clap of your bodies grows to a crescendo, your orgasm on the horizon and tightening your muscles into a deathgrip on his length. Spots float in Dokyeom’s vision at the squeeze and he drops his mouth to yours to lap up all your high pitched whines.
When he rises again to gasp against his own pleasure, the chain you gifted him dangles right above your lips and a nuclear bomb detonates.
You cum again with Dokyeom’s thumb under the ribbon encircling your neck, a tease of choked breath as he rubs the charm like a lifeline. Voice cracking, earth shatter, mind numb pleasure from the tip of your nose to your pinky toe.
Dokyeom is babbling over you. Rhythm abandoned as he subjected to the tight squeeze of your worn cunt until that punch to his gut hits. Each rope of cum makes his cock throb as he plows you with a deep thrust, stilling to empty himself inside you.
You're fully crushed into the itchy upholstery as his arms buckle.
“Wow,” you gasp, catching your breath.
What else can you say? A month of no touching culminating into the best sex of your life with your devastating boyfriend while he wears a chain with your name on it.
Dokyeom cackles into your collarbone, chest tickling against yours until he leans back to look at you.
His hair resembles an electrocuted poodle, his lips are red and swollen, and sweat glosses his skin in the low light. But Dokyeom is glowing with life and happiness and all the things that make the world good.
“I love you.”
Dokyeom responds with a girlish shriek at your impromptu confession.
“Damn, okay.” You laugh, staring at his bare ass as he runs a lap around the living room stark naked.
“You can’t just— I wanted to say it first!” He pouts before flopping down on top of you.
“Are you serious?” Breathless from his weight, you fail to push him off you as he flails like a fish. “Is that what you’re focusing on?”
“Yes,” Dokyeom grouches into your cheek. “You’re the first girl I’ve felt this way about and I wanted to…”
He trails off, suddenly embarrassed. Your entire relationship was many of Dokyeom’s firsts. The first person he had sex with, first college girlfriend he told his mom and sister about, and now the first girl to make him truly understand loving another person. It wasn’t something you held over his head, and some of it he didn’t even tell you about but it all tallies up in his mind how unprepared he is for it all.
“Minnie, look at me.”
You don’t speak again until he finally meets your gaze.
“I don’t even remember what we were talking about.” You sigh.
Dokyeom doesn’t catch hint, “We were talking about–”
“Nope, can’t seem to recall.”
Finally, he catches the playful pout and the way your eyes cut back his as you look around the room feigning ignorance. And because he’s Dokyeom and you’re a sucker for anything he does, you can’t stop the smile mirroring his own when softly traces the apple of your cheek with his thumb.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
---
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
#svthub#lee seokmin#lee seokmin x reader#svt x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt#dokyeom#seokmin x reader#seokmin smut#dokyeom x reader#dokyeom smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#🫡 highvern
430 notes
·
View notes
Text
gorgeous
Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader
summary: you’re drunk and you might be making fun of Ghost’s accent (lovingly ofc)
A/N: Inspired by Taylor Swift's song Gorgeous, specifically the lyrics: "You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk."
Warnings: drunk reader; minors DNI
wc: ~800
~*~*~
You probably should have stopped yourself after your second whiskey coke, but here you are on your third. One could say good decisions are never made when you’ve had more than two drinks, but you really are put your faith in the hands of the heavens tonight.
It’s been a long week.
You could also slightly place some of the blame on your convincing co-worker, Mara, for offering to buy you two out of the three drinks you’ve consumed tonight. Who wouldn’t want a free drink, let alone two?
You and Mara are sitting at the bar, laughing and talking about both of your shitty weeks, when all of a sudden, she stops and looks at something over your shoulder. Her eyes find their way back to yours and a smirk develops on her plump lips.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s here.” Your brows furrow and a small (albeit cute) pout forms on your lips. Your buzz is not helping, while you think about who could have shown up to warrant a reaction like that from Mara.
As you’re about to turn around, Mara quickly places a hand on your shoulder stopping you. “Wait, hold on.” Obviously, she can see something you can’t, and you’re itching to turn around to see who it is.
She places her hand on your forearm, “Don’t turn around just yet. Let him come to us.”
Ah, so it’s him. You have a hunch about who it is.
Your assumption is correct, when a large, warm hand is placed on your shoulder, and the owner of said hand says, “Fancy seeing you two here.”
You would know that accent anywhere, let alone, who owns that accent.
You lightly chuckle, and feel his hand lightly squeeze your shoulder, making small sparks light up and down your tummy.
You turn around in your chair so you can finally see him. He towers over you still, even though you’re on a raised bar stool and as you look up at him and meet his eyes, you grant him a smile.
His hair is slightly tousled, not doubt, slightly longer than the standard military grade hair length requirement, but you love the length of it. It suits him, you think.
In the dim light of the bar, you can still make out the scars that are scattered across his face. You’ve always had the urge to trace your fingertips along them, asking him about each one.
One might say you have liquid courage, and so your response to your very tall and handsome coworker is, “Fancy seeing you here,” in a very much so, exaggerated British accent. You may have also tried to replicate Ghost’s deep voice, which also added insult to injury.
You glance back at Mara who is holding herself back from laughing and when you glance back up at Ghost, you see that his eyebrow is quirked, yet his hand still comfortably rests on your shoulder.
“Your accent is funny.” You dig yourself deeper into the ground, but your foggy brain doesn’t really care. You love teasing your stoic coworker.
“Oh really?” You really love his deep voice. You’ll admit it.
Ghost has since moved, so now, he’s standing in between you and Mara, still seated at the bar. His hand leaves your shoulder, but now rests on the back of your chair. A gesture that makes you feeling warmer, and has you smiling deeper.
You nod your head and hum, “mm hm. But it’s okay because you’re tall, and cute.”
I am seriously going to regret this tomorrow.
You miss Ghost’s quick glance to Mara, who quietly winked at the man, encouraging him. Ghost leans down a bit, so he’s closer to your ear. The bar is quite loud, with everyone talking, and the music playing loud. So, his close proximity leaves a chill down your spine.
“Despite your poor efforts to imitate a British accent, I think you’re cute too.” His gruff voice pierces your ears, and you think you’ve caught on fire by now. No doubt, burning a bright crimson in his presence.
You let out a soft laugh, forgoing your fake British accent. “I’m just messing around, it’s nice to see you here.”
Ghost lets out a soft laugh before asking, “Let me buy you a drink?”
You’re honestly surprised your coworker, who you’ve had a crush on for the longest time, is offering to buy you a drink. So, you of course say yes, and spend the rest of your evening talking the ear off to your coworker, him doing the same.
And when you wake up the next morning, you notice a text from Ghost, asking you on a date.
~*~*~
#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#mw2 ghost x reader#cod ghost x reader#ghost fanfic#ghost imagine#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley fanfic#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost fic#simon riley fic#cod ghost fanfic#mw2 ghost fanfic
532 notes
·
View notes
Text
Regina George X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute, and Fluffy Prompt [Sneak-Peek]
• Takes place after the occurrence of the film [2024 ver. with Reneé Rapp]
• Some mild changes made to some elements of the story
• The prompt will be dropping in its entirety on Saturday + There will be more!
• This is another new idea, but does not impact the other ideas I am already writing for!
!TW: Being stuck in a toxic relationship, insult(s), mention of previously being kidnapped, implied suffering from PTSD + Depression + Separation Anxiety + Anxiety in general, mention of previously being abused + injury detail - If I’ve missed any, please let me know ❤️!
Birds’ Eye View/Heart’s Desire
“Are you done, or-?” You inquired, raising your eyebrows, after Regina threw another line of insults at you; you’d told her to rant, seeing she needed it, but…
“No,” she answered, without hesitation, even though she appeared a little exasperated, wincing, before she looked away from you, and sighed heavily, knowing she shouldn’t get you involved with all that was currently frustrating her following her recent arguments with her boyfriend, Shane Olman, especially when you didn’t even know him, and hadn’t ever talked to him, only a recent student at Northshore High School, managing to take on Senior Year after you’d been expelled from your last school. “Yes,” she added, barely audibly, and you would appear surprised, not expecting such an answer from her as you tilted your head partially, a pained as well as skeptical expression on your face; you didn’t want her to feel as if she couldn’t talk to you about all that was burdening her the way you feared she did, hoping against hope - however - at the same time, that she had instead managed to clear her mind a little, until she crumpled, and looked up at you again with a hurt look on her face before she said ‘no’, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. “N-No, I’m not, I-.. I’m-..” She shrugged, before awkwardly bowing her head, and you would nod gravely, smiling sadly over at her, before you timidly inched closer to her to gently squeeze her shoulder, prompting her to express relief, her heart skipping a beat, before she glanced up at you again, and felt strong enough to continue just by having her gaze lock with your own in the best way possible. “I hate you,” she spat, her gaze never leaving your’s, whilst you couldn’t help, but smirk in her direction, amused though you knew you shouldn’t be, but it didn’t stop your heart from aching as you wondered who had hurt her the way you could tell that they had, before she’d come back to your Uncle’s ranch with you. “Y-You stink, and I hope an air conditioner falls on you,” she added sharply, clearly through gritted teeth, whilst you appeared taken aback - of all things you thought she might say, that was one of the least you’d been expecting to hear, but it still made you have to fight back a giggle regardless of how it had shocked you, at first, “okay.” She drew in another shallow breath, before releasing it through her nose like you’d told her to, just to try and calm her down when she’d almost broken one of the mucking up shovels you and her had been using to tidy up the horses’ stalls here. “Okay, I - I think I’m-.. I think I’m done, now,” she stated, and you would almost feel disappointed, though at the same time of course you were relieved to know that she seemed at least somewhat relieved, now that she’d slung out yet another insult in your direction, though she wasn’t directing anything of what she meant toward you; she couldn’t.
The thought startled her, just for a moment, as she winced again, and forced a smile in your direction, trying to hide that such a small thing had flustered her the way nothing else ever had before.
“That’s good,” you stated, and she would hesitate, before nodding, and smiling softly over at you, this time the smile was genuine; it was hard not to allow the corners of her lips to curve upward whenever she was around you, “that’s always good - so-.. are you ready to talk about it, now?”
She would appear taken aback by your question, her smile faltering a little, before she awkwardly cleared her throat, and nodded slowly, though you could tell she was reluctant to discuss what had been happening between her and Shane recently.
“I guess,” she answered, and you would smile warmly back at her, glad that she felt able to talk about such things with you - it even made you feel a little warm and fuzzy inside, like a sense of pride was washing over you in response to your hope that she seemed to trust you, just as much as you trusted her, and somehow had ever since you’d first met her that day; the day she’d first been sent here by her mother to distract her, and take her mind off of the tense situation between her and Shane, before you’d even started at Northshore High. “But - if we’re gonna talk about it,” she began again, and you would tense up for a moment, wondering what she might be about to say, next; you were always terrified that maybe something bad would happen - that maybe she would up, and abandon you, though you couldn’t imagine why. You always put such dread up to how you’d been kidnapped, and abused the way you and, a few years ago now; you were quite young when it happened, and the nights you’d spent screaming and crying had never left your mind, especially not at night, where your nightmares were at their most vivid moments. For a moment, you remembered your kidnapper coming in to kick at your side for how you’d tried to call your home, after successfully sneaking out of his basement, but that wasn’t the worst of the punishment; he spent every night after that breaking each and every one of your fingers, and he would have moved onto your wrist, or toes, if the police didn’t locate you when they did. You winced at the memory, but you wouldn’t let her see the pain in your eyes as you bowed your head, before she could lock eyes with you again, making her heart sink a little as soon as she realised she wouldn’t be able to lock eyes with you again, if you didn’t lift your head the way you had, before, trying to act as if you were distracted by the next pile of dung you were shovelling up at your feet. “Can we do it whilst we’re mucking up, l-like we are, now?” You appeared taken aback again by her request, forgetting your previous thought as you looked up at her again, forgetting how to breathe for a moment whilst she silently admired your eyes without even realising that she was, trying to tell herself that it was just because it made sense to make eye contact right now, rather than glance down at your lips, or just down at the ground when you were both in the middle of a conversation the way that you were, or had been, now.
You appeared skeptical again, once you’d recomposed yourself, and could finally breathe again, as soon as you remembered how your lungs were supposed to work, ever since you’d been born a few years ago, now.
“I don’t know,” you answered warily, prompting her heart to sink, and eyes to darken a little; it made something ache within her for a reason unbeknownst to her to see that you still didn’t seem to trust her with the shovel, but she guessed she understood after she’d been wielding it the way she had earlier, wanting to either break it or smack someone over the head with it whilst she’d been thinking about her and Shane’s recent argument. It was seeing the hurt on her face - even if it were only there for a moment - that made your heart cave in, as you - without hesitation - took up her shovel, before holding it out to her, and forgetting how to breathe all over again as you waited for her to take it from you. “Here, of - of course we can,” you reassured her gently, a little breathlessly, but you tried to hide that you couldn’t breathe as you tried not to watch her hand as it inched closer to your own, before she accepted the shovel from you, and couldn’t help, but allow the pinky finger of her left hand to brush against the back of your own, prompting your heart to stutter, and you to tense up again as a makeshift spurt of electricity seemed to run down your arm - something you’d never felt before. You wondered if she felt it too, noticing the dazed expression on her face, making your cheeks heat up as you hastily looked away from her again, though you longed to keep your eyes focused on her, and only her, despite your not knowing why you’d even had such a reaction to her skin touching your own the way it had, for a split second.
“Thank you,” she replied, once she’d been able to find her voice again as she smiled timidly down at the ground beneath her, “that was-.. really brave of you, considering.”
You lifted your eyebrows again as you glanced over at her, confused by her praise, but still you couldn’t keep the smile from your face as your eyes glinted a little over at her, prompting her heart to skip a beat again as soon as she felt your eyes upon her, encouraging her more than enough to glance up at you again, her eyes not hesitating to lock with your own as you both faltered in place for a moment, staring over at each other as if nobody else existed anymore, besides you two, right here, right now.
It took her more strength than it ever had before to stay stood where she was, seeing herself in another universe inching closer to you, whilst she lifted her right hand up to your left cheek, only making her heart begin to pound a little as you warily glanced over at her, your heart skipping a beat, almost as if you were picturing the same thing as she was, hardly breathing, just like she was, stood before you, before her eyes darkened, and she awkwardly cleared her throat again to break herself from her previous daze, as well as you from your own as you silently cursed yourself, before digging up at the muck again to try and clear your head somehow, only to fail miserably as soon as you felt her hand upon your shoulder.
“Reg-” You spluttered out, before you even knew her name was slipping from your lips, but before you could continue, she pressed on, determined to show you that she meant everything she told you, whilst she knew you silently doubted some things about yourself, though you’d not even told her her about what had happened to you, when you were younger, and felt more hopeless than you ever had before.
“I meant it,” she cooed, gently squeezing your shoulder as you timidly glanced up at her, wishing you could breathe normally again, whilst at the same time you were terrified of losing the way she made you feel, whenever she was with you the way she was, now, “you’re the bravest girl I know.”
You tried not to shudder, your eyes threatening to fill with tears as a lump began to form within your throat, only making it harder for you to not break down in front of her as you forced a shaky smile in her direction, before bowing your head again as soon as small tears began to form within your eyes.
“Bravest, huh?” You mused, and she nodded hastily, not hesitating at all because she meant every word, and knew she always would. Being hit by a bus the way she had last year had made her feel different; more grateful, of everything, as well as everyone, around her - for a split second, whilst she was unconscious, she swore her life had flashed before her eyes, and it made her feel guilty for almost everything she’d ever done - well, everything, until now.
“You - mean a heck of a lot to me,” she expressed, and you would appear taken aback again, your heart skipping a beat, before you glanced up at her again, and wondered why your heart felt as if it were being squeezed even though at the same time it felt as if it were currently soaring with every word she shared with you, and you’d reacted in similar ways ever since you’d first met her, and began to feel alive whenever she was with you the way that she was, now, “you always have, e-ever since I-.. y’know, got to actually know you, and talk to you, and that’ll never change, I promise - you know that, right?”
“I know,” you reassured her, your voice briefly trembling, prompting her heart to squeeze alongside your own as she frowned, and carefully eased you into a hug whilst you melted into her embrace, and wouldn’t hesitate to return it as you buried your face into her left shoulder, feeling safer than you ever had before as you subconsciously drowned within her sweet scent in the best way possible.
“Good,” she returned gently, “I’m glad.” You both fell quiet for a moment as you tried to recompose yourselves, before she held you at arms length blissfully, her eyes glinting alongside your own. “So,” she chimed, and you couldn’t help, but giggle softly whilst you carefully brushed away any remaining tears, “should we continue mucking, or-?”
You smiled warmly at her, before nodding, and taking up your shovel again, as if she hadn’t had you almost breaking down completely within her arms a brief moment ago.
“I’d love to,” you replied, brighter than she’d ever heard you before, prompting her heart to jump alongside your own as she smiled sheepishly back at you, evidently glad to see that you were happy again, now that she’d admitted to you that you were more than what you thought you were to her, before, “as long as you’re still up to talking about whatever you wanna talk about, as we go?”
She tensed up again, remembering Shane, and the fight he and her had had, earlier today, and for a moment you regretted more than anything bringing up the situation, until she smiled reassuringly over at you again, and nodded, before taking your free hand within her own to soothe you even more, indirectly making your heart pound faster than it ever had before as you tried not to glance down at her fingers intertwined with your own, whilst also silently praying that she couldn’t hear what was currently going on within your chest.
“Always,” she answered, and you would express relief, your expression softening, before you glanced down at the ground again, your cheeks heating up even more than they ever had before, “but before that - where should we start?”
~~~~~
Hope you enjoyed it, and are looking forward to the dropping of the full version! ❤️
#writing prompts#fanfiction#writing prompt#renee rapp#regina george x you#regina george x reader#regina george#love story#lgbtq writing#lgbtq+#lgbtq#lgbtqia#forbidden love#love confessions#gay love#love quotes#lovers#love#angsty prompts#angsty#regina mean girls 2024#mean girls 2024#angst with a sad ending#angst with comfort#angst prompt#angst#cute prompts#cute#fluffy prompts#fluff prompts
79 notes
·
View notes
Note
I know you don't really talk about Tim and Jason but I wondered why you said that Bruce likes Jason more then Tim when I always viewed it the other way around
og post in reference
Anon it's a such a coincidence for me to get this because this was something I actively debated over while creating the ranking.
In fact, originally I had written "4. Jason/Tim (tie?) 5. Tim/Jason (tie)" before I got rid of the slashes and ties.
This is the one part of the ranking that I'm most confused on/don't have an exact answer for. The rest are solid and those I'll be explaining in a different post soon but these two gave me a lot of confusion.
I think what it comes down to is in which shitty way that Bruce treats either of them expresses more love. And to me they're roughly the same in equally but different bad ways.
Bruce obviously loves Jason but he's also not remotely proud of him. His relationship with Jason is always "I love you BUT-" kinda relationship.
"You're good-
Batman (1940) Issue #415
BUT-"
Batman (1940) Issue #415
"You're loveable-
Batman (1940) Issue #410
BUT-"
Batman (1940) Issue #411
There's always an opposing side to every good thing Bruce says about him. He views Jason as a failure but he still loves him and yet can't help putting him down. After Bruce dies, he leaves a message for Jason -
Batman: Battle for the Cowl Issue #3
Like Bruce full on treats him like absolute shit. How could you as a parent tell your son straight to his face that he's a failure and then say that it's your fault?? Somehow this is adding more insult than injury than to just blame him directly.
Bruce and Jason had good and bad times when he was Robin. There many times when Bruce was like "Good job, lab!" and other times when he struggled to deal with Jason. There was one case in particular that soured their relationship irrevocably. Things became really bad between them after that such that Bruce actively fights with himself not to lose his temper at Jason more than he used to.
For example:
Batman (1940) Issue #426
Things get worse and worse, Batman benches him, Jason runs off to Ethiopia, and then you-know-what happens. In summary of their Robin-Batman relationship, Bruce thought he found a good partner in Jason, was happy for a while, but then started believing he made a mistake when Jason used the skills he taught him to go past the limits of what Bruce was acceptable with. The secret Bruce talks about is that one irreversible case I mentioned - Gloria/Felipe - where Jason killed a man. Or atleast Bruce suspects he killed a man.
Batman (1940) Issue #422
Batman (1940) Issue #424
When Jason came back as Red Hood, Batman felt so guilty for the fact that he made Jason robin because then Jason wouldn't have died but also believed that Jason was beyond saving. When Jason was at the hands of the society because of Black Mask who wanted revenge on him for what he did, Bruce almost let Jason die a second time - this time intentionally - before he changed his mind last minute and joined the fight to help him out.
Batman: Under the Red Hood Issue #10
It's this type of relationship I struggle with because Bruce very much loves him and even says so -
Batman: Hush Issue #11
But also guess what tips him off that he's not fighting Jason?
Batman: Hush Issue #11
I call this confusing but Dick calls this something else entirely.
Batman: Battle for the Cowl Issue #3
Tough love.
Maybe, but I guess how I would make out their relationship to be is: if Jason acts within Bruce's expectations, then Bruce loves him. If he doesn't then Bruce doesn't hold back hitting and punching. I don't think their relationship is tough love as much as it is conditional love. There are conditions to the way Jason must act in order for Bruce to love him and if he doesn't act that way then he stops caring about his son. He's happy if Jason comes to gatherings but doesn't particularly care if he doesn't. He leaves Jason alone if he follows his rules but actively goes after him if he doesn't. Both in his Robin days and now, Bruce doesn't tolerate Jason if he acts outside expectation but still loves him and although it's not the kind of love you would appreciate, it's also not the kind you can set aside and call it nothing. It's complicated. That's Jason and Bruce's relationship.
Tim on the other hand, he's very proud of. He thinks Tim is excellent, smart, dependable, and loves him very much.
Batman (2016) Issue #128
But I feel like Bruce takes him for granted.
Bruce was both neglectful and very involved in Tim's life.
Bruce means a lot to Tim in the sense that he was a true father to him.
Batman (1940) Issue #480
Tim's dad Jack gets really worried that Tim might consider Bruce more of a father than him. "Maybe - But I'm your father, Tim. Not him!"
The developing relationship between Bruce and Tim was based originally on need. Bruce needed someone who he could work with and Tim needed someone who could be there for him. As time evolved that need turned into liking which turned into love.
After Jason, Bruce needed someone who listened to him completely. Someone who never questioned him or doubted his orders and Tim was everything Bruce needed and he loved that.
Batman (1940) Issue #467
Bruce invested a LOT of time into Tim's training and he also depends on him heavily but at the same time I feel like he constantly brushes off Tim's words and worries.
Robin (1993) Issue #9
Batman: Urban Legends Issue #10
The classic "I trust you but I know better than you" x 10. And it's this thing that gives me doubts because I get this inexplicable sense of distance in their relationship. Bruce loves, trusts, and cares for him but I feel like there's something missing.
This being said, I realize that there's no clear explanation as to why I feel this way so I'll change the ranking back to "tie" for the two of them like I originally had. Because while Bruce loves Jason, he doesn't tolerate him and while Bruce loves Tim, he kinda disregards him in a way. And between these situations, I can't decide what represents more love or favoritism. I guess a part of me just felt really, REALLY bad for the way Bruce treated Jason. That post kinda shredded my heart so I gave him brownie points on the favoritism ranking list but in hindsight, after all this and writing it all out, I think Bruce loves Tim and Jason equally. It's entirely possible Bruce may actually love Tim more because unlike with Jason, I can't provide evidence of Bruce distancing himself from Tim in loving - only left with more of a sense. So in this case I agree with you, anon. It's very possible.
#jason todd#red hood#robin jason todd#tim drake#red robin#robin tim drake#bruce wayne#batman#dick grayson#nightwing#cl anon asks#cl asks#thanks for the ask!#this is the first time I've been completely unsure on something#tough but good ask anon#my brain has melted. I spent days on this and I'm still not any clearer
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
the thing is that i don't think that every story has to be morally upstanding, or that liking 'problematic' stories necessarily reflects on your morals in real life. i personally love tragedies, corruption arcs, evil characters committing evil deeds without a single ounce of regret, things i would be horrified by and always strive to work against in real life
the problem arises when the creator and audience, out of universe, talk about the corruption and evil like they are things to aspire to in real life. the entire point of 'make each other worse and be actual villains together' stories is that it's bad. it's in the word. i enjoy these narratives because they're spectacles to me; i don't want to be them. acting like they're something to want to live and celebrate and not something dark and horrific that's been twisted by an unreliable narrator takes out everything that makes them appealing to me. your 'let's be villains together' message is completely undercut if at every turn you're insisting, 'no actually the jedi were the villains all along and their fall was good and justified'
i don't even think that every story in the star wars universe has to be morally upstanding. i would welcome a well-written story from the perspective of a sith. but headland seems to think that turning to the dark side and being a sith feels good
in the star wars universe, being a sith doesn't feel good. this is established canon through every sith in every continuity. being a sith feels terrible. it's killing your own loved ones and regretting it and stewing in your own despair for twenty years because you're in too deep and this is all that's left for you. it's being abandoned by your own master and suffering in a literal trash heap for a decade. it's brainwashing your own brother who hauls you out because this is the only companionship you know, only for him to be killed by your master and you to be abandoned a second time. it's feeling empty and killing to fill the hole in yourself, but all that does is make you feel emptier and you will never feel satisfied no matter how much you kill, no matter if you kill a whole planet, because killing. doesn't. heal you. it's forcing yourself to stay alive through pain and hatred and anger even as your body is falling apart around you. it's betrayal and backstabbing at every turn. and always, always, always, the consequences of your actions catch up to you
so really this entire series is adding insult to injury to me
#midtalks#star wars#the acolyte critical#leslye headland critical#meta#sorry for impromptu love letter to the sith at the end but we were so robbed
142 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Clothes Look Good On You
I’m getting back into the swing of writing, so it’s probably not my best work but it’s a start. Smut starts next part.
Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist 💗
Notes: F!reader, Pro boxer!Toji, light age gap (Toji is early 30's and reader is mid 20's), pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart), reader is smaller than Toji, getting together, reader is a medic/nurse, light violence (boxing injuries)- the usual series notes.
The texts started not even a day after you met Toji.
Usually stuff like ‘You should come to the gym tomorrow, I can show you a few things.’ And ‘You working for my next match? It’d be nice to have a good luck charm.’
You weren’t expecting anything like this from him, you thought giving him your number was for medical advice or something professional. So his flirting and interest in you was a surprise- one that had you blushing, but you didn’t think he was too serious about it.
And to Toji’s credit, he was nothing but sweet and respectful. It didn’t matter how busy his typically packed schedule was, he was always checking on you, trying to learn more about your life.
“Why don’t you come by the gym after your shift? We could get somethin’ to eat.”
‘I can’t 😕 I’m stuck filling out applications. Maybe another day?’
The reminder of your unemployment stressed you out further. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know you lost your main job after the match. You told him a lot about the work you did with Shoko, but the few hours you had at the clinic weren’t enough to sustain you and everything was going wrong. Your savings were drying up.
‘Whatcha applyin for?’
‘The usual. I’m running late but I’ll talk to you later!’
You didn’t give any specifics, it was embarrassing enough that you got fired. You managed to get an interview at a different hospital, a welcomed change from the countless application denials.
Honestly, fuck Mother Nature.
The interview didn’t go well at all. You had thought there was hope with this job, but at the end of the interview the boss outright told you that they would be going a different direction. You left quickly after that.
Asshole.
The rejection stung. To add insult to injury, it was absolutely pouring rain. Of course you weren’t prepared, too focused on the interview and your clothes were getting more soaked by the minute.
“Fuck!” Your phone was dead, your wallet at home, failing to notice the essentials were missing while worrying about what questions you might be asked was your own fault. You should have paid better attention.
You took an Uber there, so your only option was to walk home, already out of the way of the train station. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad…
The rain was a bitter cold, and your entire body trembled with the pain of the wind whipping against your shaking form not twenty minutes into your trek. The world swallowing you whole would be a blessing.
Or, maybe the real blessing was the gym you recognized up ahead. For the first time in a while, you felt a glimmer of hope.
It would be warm in there, and maybe you could borrow a phone to call a cab. You doubted Toji would still be there, but surely someone was still working out, right? It was worth a shot.
Increasing your pace until the door was at your fingertips, and pulling it open- it was unlocked. You could cry. It was warm, and most of all, dry.
You peeked your head into the main room and saw a few people doing their thing, until your eyes landed on Suguru.
He saw you out of the corner of his eye and smiled, about to welcome you in (under the assumption Toji had invited you) until he saw the state you were in. Shivering, wet and probably bound to get sick.
“What the hell? Don’t tell me you walked here, you should’ve rescheduled or something.” He pulled a few towels out from a large cabinet full of them and offered them to you. “Toji’s not worth getting rained on.”
“Toji’s not what now?” The sight of Toji with his bag on his shoulder to go home made you smile a little through the chatter of your teeth. “Woah what the hell?”
“That’s literally what I said, I can’t believe you didn’t at least send someone to pick her up before you dragged her out like a needy bastard.”
Toji ignored him and took a towel to help get some of the water out of your hair, it was a welcomed gesture. “‘Thought you were workin’ sweetheart, don’t tell me you quit your job to come see me, it’ll go to my head. What were you doing in the rain like that? You’re soaked.”
You knew he was teasing you lightheartedly, but the mention of your job had you nearly tearing up with the stress. “About that…”
Suguru took that as a cue to leave you guys alone, “C’mere, you’re gonna get sick.” A much larger hand took yours and led you to the locker room. “I have some clean clothes in my locker and you can change in the bathroom.”
“Oh I couldn’t-” the protests started as soon as he pressed shorts and a shirt over to you.
“Yes you can, I’ll get a bag for your wet clothes.”
Truly, you were freezing, you hadn’t stopped shivering and you probably wouldn’t any time soon. You sighed in resignation and changed in the aforementioned bathroom, cringing at how huge his clothes were (but enjoying the scent secretly.)
Toji was waiting with a spare jacket you slipped on right away and a plastic bag for your wet clothes, but when he saw you dwarfed by his he laughed. “Holy shit, you’re s’cute. C’mon, you look like you need cheered up. I’ll take you to mine and order takeout. Sound good? Then maybe you can tell me what’s got you down too.”
And you probably shouldn’t go with a man that you hadn’t known for too long, but you were hungry and wearing his clothes and tired, and maybe a little weak to his smile-
“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” You tried to look grateful, but you couldn’t muster too much emotion other than sad.
Once again a large hand took yours and this time led you to his car in the parking garage.
He waited until you were full and warm with your phone on the charger and the tv low in the background before he started asking questions.
Well, more like he was looking at you with concern and you cracked. “I got fired.”
“What? Today? What happened?” The way he sounded ticked off on your behalf made you feel even warmer. Seriously, you can’t be giving in to his charms, but… he was sweet with you and considerate…
“Three weeks ago… after the fight I ran into my boss. I was wearing clothes with the logo of the clinic I work at with Shoko and moonlighting is against the rules but it’s hard with what I was making at my day job. I needed the money from working a second one and I got caught and the stress is so much to handle I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I can’t find someone hiring!” It all came out of you like word vomit and (more than) a few tears of frustration followed.
“Aw sweets, you should’ve told me you were looking for a job, I could’ve helped. Working that many hours isn’t good for you. But they were dead wrong t’fire you like that.” He wiped your tears and his other hand rubbed yours soothingly and it was nice to be touched gently after several weeks of constant stress.
You sniffled and took in a breath, getting that off your back helped more than you thought it would, Toji’s hulking, kind presence was a balm to a wound. “It’s been a lot to handle, I thought today’s interview was going really well until they rejected me at the end. Didn’t even wait to send me a half assed email, just told me outright. I thought they liked me for the job I don’t know what I said wrong.”
“I don’t know sweetheart, they’re crazy not to hire you. Maybe they were scared of how good your resume looked.” His joke made you let out a giggle and a sigh.
“Thanks for cheering me up, and sorry if you had other plans. It’s Friday night and you’re stuck with me crying on you.”
Toji’s brows furrowed, “Who said I was stuck? The only plan I had was text you enough to bother you and get takeout.”
It was your turn for your brows to furrow “It’s literally Friday night, you weren’t going out?”
Suddenly the floor was super interesting to Toji and he scratched the back of his neck with his free hand before looking at you again.
“I thought I was being pretty obvious about it, but I’m not interested in going out unless it’s what you. ‘Don’t want to rush ya, but I’m kinda trying to win you over here. Y’know? Woo ya, that’s what the kids call it these days I think.” His cheeks were flushed red and it was endearing.
“Woo me, huh? You’re sweet, you know that?” You really didn’t think he was serious before, and now he truly had your heart fluttering.
“So… is it working so far?”
You leaned forward to kiss him softly on the lips, chaste but sweet. “What do you think?”
Toji pulled you in for another kiss, unable to let you go so soon. “Can I take ya on a date?” He pulled away panting.
“I think I can pencil you in.”
That night you slept better than you had in ages. Toji’s bed was comfortable and he was warm, holding you all night. You woke up before him to pee and crawled back in bed, you shouldn’t be acting so boldly, you weren’t even technically together yet. But Toji made it hard to not want to be around him. No one had treated you so sweetly in years.
“Wow, leavin’ me all alone like that. Cruel.” Toji was awake when you came back, evidently.
“My clothes are probably done in the dryer, I should get out of your hair.”
Strong polar bear arms wrapped around you tight, “Nah.”
Your lip lifted in amusement. “Nah?”
“Nah. It’s only four, go back to sleep. Gotta eat breakfast first later anyway. And I was gonna invite ya t’the gym with me, got something to show ya. If you want, at least.” He finally peeked an eye open to check your reaction, not wanting to seem too clingy or pushy.
The way he sounded content to keep you (while not making you feel held hostage) made your heart feel warm and gooey.
“If you’re sure… I don’t wanna interrupt your day.” By now your protest was only half hearted. How could you not want to stay with him?
Toji adjusted the blankets and his arms tightened, slowly pulling you closer to cuddle in case you wanted to pull away from him for personal space. “So sweet. You are my day.” He kissed the top of your head to reassure you that you weren’t a burden.
Unsure what to say to that, you rested your head over his heart and tangled your legs with his— and you think, Is this what people mean when they talk about butterflies in their stomach?
Prev <- Series index -> next
🏷️: @pelicanpizza @tadabzzzbee
#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#reader insert#jjk x reader#no use of y/n#toji series#pro boxer! toji#toji x y/n#jjk ship#jjk fic#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji
88 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oh so angry! Looks like Ransom’s just decided your punishment and is ready to enact it. What did you do??
Gif source
A/N: Okay, OKAY, twist my arm! I didn't think this would be a whole ficlet but hereeee we are. Thank @bigtreefest for this hot lil number 🙂↕️
Disclaimer(s): This is an 18+ fic only (MINORS DNI). You are responsible for the content that you consume, please be mindful!
Warning(s): daddy/princess kink, praise kink, softDom!Ransom, spanking involved, protective and posessiveness from Ransom, maybe some naivety from the reader but their relationship is consensual and genuine, and a shitty Linda (ofc). Some mild degradation and explicit details of smut, and implied smut.
Word count: 1.8k~
Divider by @firefly-graphics <3
Ransom started giving you that look. The look that lets you know that you’ve pushed him too far. You were coming from another tyrannical Thrombey family dinner when your usual calm demeanor started to crack. All facilitated by one comment made by Linda.
“Ransom, you’re not serious about this harlot, are you?”
You suppose that you should have been grateful that she had at least waited for you to be out of hearing distance, but her poor timing had resulted in you walking back into the parlor right about when she called you a harlot.
The silence in the room as the rest of the family turned to look at you had been deafening. You also couldn’t help the grimace that took over your face once you saw all of their eyes on you (she didn’t exactly make it unknown that she didn’t like you but you just never expected for the facade to break).
But it wasn’t really the comment made by Linda that ate at you. It was Ransom’s lack of response – his silence, that spurred that beginning burn of tears in your eyes that you didn’t dare let fall in front of them.
Ransom stood there for a minute staring at Linda before he looked back at you. His face was so stoic and his jaw was clenched. He looked angry, but he still didn’t say anything. He merely got up from the armchair, strolled over to you to take your hand with his left and grab both of your coats in his right. Dragging you to the door with you stumbling behind him quietly, and you both left.
During the car ride, tension filled the space like it hadn’t before. With his family, Ransom always gave you the pep talk of preparing for the worst with his parents’ lack of empathy, or Joni’s incessant, passive aggressive demeanor. But he never prepared you for his own added insult to injury.
“I think that you should take me home tonight.” You mutter quietly interrupting the tense silence. The tears dried up and in place sat an air of resignation. You knew what you were getting into when you got into a relationship with Ransom–but this was an entirely new experience and you needed the time and space to process it.
You could feel Ransom looking over at you as he drove. The trajectory of his destination hadn’t changed but he indicated that he heard you by suddenly pulling the car over on the empty road.
Not even bothering to look over at him even as the car turns off, you sigh and turn away from him to stare out at the dark woods next to you. It was an eerie place to be in during the night, especially when there was already so much anxiety present in the space.
“Look at me, Princess. Now.” Ransom said with such a firmness that you gave up your stonewalling and turned your head to meet his determined gaze.
Once his eyes met your tired ones, you can see his expression soften. “Don’t listen to Linda. She’s a cunt of a woman who looks beneath any and all who aren’t Harlan, and you know it.”
You let out an exasperated sigh and respond, “Ransom, you know that I can really give two fucks about what Linda says, or anyone would say about me.”
He looked at you expectedly, “But?”
You feel a white rush of hot frustration seep into you as you say, “BUT I care about what you say about me! You didn’t even try to say anything back– would it kill you to just fight for me for once?” You didn’t wait for his response before continuing with your rant, “I think that you might even agree with her, I mean, are you even serious about me at all?!”
Panting at the exertion of your accusation, you look away from the silent man and turn to look straight ahead to huff out one last defeated sigh. “Just take me home, please.”
More silence filled the enclosed space for what felt like an hour, in totality, it took really more like five minutes for Ransom to simply say, “Get out the car.”
Confused by the demand, you look over at him with a furrowed brow before catching that look on his face. The ‘look’.
Swallowing thickly at noticing his expression, you stutter, “W-what?”
“You heard me. Get. Out. Of. The. Car.” He repeats with an even sterner tone.
Shuffling for your seatbelt, you haphazardly push for the release until you could clumsily get out of the car. Anger taking over the confusion once more, you slam the door shut hard and make sure to flourish it with an exaggerated huff.
A moment later, Ransom gets out of the car too (only increasing your initial confusion, heightening your frustration) and proceeds to walk to your end of the car only to bypass you and reach for the sedan’s back door to open it.
Crossing your arms to keep up with your attitude, you look at him with a pointed frown. He looked over at you expectedly and demanded for you to get in the back.
Now in a full blown tantrum, you stomp two steps over to duck back into the backseat of the car and force yourself to scoot over once Ransom stepped in behind you.
Sitting next to him, you could feel the red hot anger boiling in your body while simultaneously also experiencing the lack of space between you. A different kind of heat fills you since you can’t help how attracted and in sync your body was with his. You pressed your thighs together and you felt a throb ripple between your legs.
Without saying anything, you know that Ransom is analyzing your every move and has definitely noticed you clenching your thighs. Trying to cover it up, you cross your legs in fake boredom. But as your bare knee touches his, you let out a squeak as he suddenly pulls you by your crossed leg to straddle him.
Suddenly you were on top of him, your arms instinctively going around his shoulders and resting on the seat cushion behind him.
“Now that you’re facing me like a good girl, I want you to repeat what you just said to my face.” He merely said with that ‘look’ still on his handsome face.
You were gripping his coat on either of his shoulders and bit your bottom lip, now unsure of how to gauge this reaction from him. “What do you me– ow!” You shriek.
In the middle of you asking, Ransom laid a sharp slap to your ass. You couldn’t help that your pussy reacted to the smack and you flush as you felt a gush of wetness seep through your thin panties.
“Ransom, what the fuc– argh!” He proceeded to slap your ass again.
“Princess," I said: repeat what you just said to my face. Now.” Ransom said quietly.
Breathing heavier at the darkness in his tone, and the way that the space was only lit by one road light further down the path only emphasized the intensity of his request. The atmosphere felt weirdly intimate, like you were the only two in the world.
“But which– ah!” A moan slipped this time as he slapped your ass, this time, it was harder.
Ransom gave you a ‘tsk’ and said, “Princess, don’t you wanna be a good girl for Daddy?”
You let out a small whimper and nodded your head pathetically. At the small tears gathering in your eyes, Ransom’s eyes softened a bit and he lifted one hand to stroke your hair away from your face to tuck it behind one ear.
“I know you do, baby. So, do what Daddy is telling you. Repeat to me what you just said.”
You sniffle a bit before saying, “Are you serious about me at all?” Instead of this being repeated in frustration and anger, it was said meekly. The truth was that you have always felt a little insecure in your relationship together. He was Ransom Drysdale. He had status, means, resources. And you were the opposite of all of those things. You suppose you always felt like you were waiting for him to finally realize that and dump you to find someone else more suited to his needs.
Ransom cooed at you, as if he was able to read your mind, before stroking your hair again, “See, pretty baby, was that so hard?” He unzipped your coat slowly and threw it over to the passenger seat before lifting up the skirt of your dress to reveal your soft ass merely covered by a lacy thong.
He fondled your cheeks for a minute, humming his satisfaction at how smooth your skin felt, and how there was so much of you for him to grip onto. He gripped both of your cheeks suddenly with both of his hands and you let out a squeak in reaction to his tight grasp.
The ‘look’ returned to his face once more and he made sure to capture your hooded gaze with his own. “Don’t you ever doubt how serious I am about you, Princess. You know that Daddy loves taking care of you, right? So much so that I knew that those fuckers didn’t deserve another minute of your time. We left because they don’t deserve the luxury of a response from me, nor do they deserve it from you. Understand now, pretty baby?”
Actively listening to him, you proceeded to let out the tears that you’ve been holding back while nodding your understanding. It all makes sense now- Ransom has always tried to protect you from his family. He valued your presence and respected your time enough that his first instinct was to get you out of that space and back to a place where you are very much wanted – with him.
Ransom only gave you a soft smile at the sight of your tears. He was proud of you for listening to him and for seeing things from his perspective. He’s only ever wanted to keep you safe, and he made sure to remind you of that every single time you’ve ever misaligned with that view. Your cute reactions and tears only further confirmed for him that he was the only one that could ever keep you like this. No one can ever take you away from him.
You shift in his arms a bit to get more comfortable and you release a quiet gasp at the same time that he lets out a sharp inhale as you both notice how his hands then naturally lowered so that the tips of his outer fingers were now barely brushing the covered lace of your pussy.
Ransom hums out a low growl while he proceeds to stroke along your inner thighs towards the wet spot on your underwear. He starts slowly rubbing the thin fabric that covered your clit. You mewled again, feeling so turned on already from his punishment but also from how much care you were feeling from him at that moment.
“Now, Princess, we’re going to stay here while I spank this pretty little pussy until you remember how much I love you.”
Welp! Honestly, is a punishment from Ransom ever really a punishment? 😏 I also just love a soft!dom!Ransom tbh.
Reblogs and comments are much appreciated and v welcomed :) thank you for reading!
Join My Tag List!
****if you wanna be notified on my work (and next updates)!
#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale smut#a thanks to essie for prompting a good ransom flowwww#ransom ask#ransom drysdale x reader smut#chris evans fanfiction#ransom drysdale imagine#ransom drysdale and reader#ransom drysdale fanfiction#fic recommend#ransom drysdale x reader#chris evans fic#knives out au
76 notes
·
View notes