#no one person is supposed to have two jobs and yet that’s what i know everyone does

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Sunday

A/N: Track 3 in my Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can't We? fics. It's my first time writing for Bucky and to say I'm nervous about it is an understatement. I hope he didn't come out out of character. There will be two more tie ins with tracks 10 and 12. Listen to the track here. Bucky x blackwidow!reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.6k

Amends. 

He was supposed to make amends. He had been trying for the most part to work through his list Doctor Raynor made him create. One person after the next until he had crossed off every name. 

Bucky was trying to figure out how to be a better person. To be a person, really. It had worked in some regards, in others, it took more of his restraint than anything else. He’d gotten his mind back, but with that came everything else. 

The memories seemed more vivid, the pain…the pain was endless. But he was trying. 

He was trying and that had to count for something. 

Didn’t it?

Bucky gently closed the refrigerator door and popped open his beer bottle. He took a pull before looking down into his notebook. There was your name. He’d managed to cross off four names before yours and after yours. 

Bottle still in hand, he rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead. He couldn’t put this off forever. He set the bottle down on the counter in front of him. Pressing his hands against the counter he leaned against it. 

You hadn’t spoken in over a month. Before you’d - 

Bucky let out a sigh. 

He never really expected to run into you again. Not after… not after the Red Room. 

Natasha of all people had managed to track you down before Thanos, before the snap. You’d been snapped out of existence along with half the population before he’d had a chance to talk with you. 

In all her wisdom, Natasha had managed to write down your last known location. Bucky hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to try and speak with you until Sam found out. Then it was non stop badgering until he made a move. 

Bucky had found you in Portofino. You looked just as he had remembered. You had locked eyes with him while you were shopping for fruit. He thought you might run or fight. Either scenario he was prepared for. He never imagined you would smile at him, walking up to him slowly before tossing him an apple. 

“Took you long enough,” was all you’d said. He’d followed after you, walking across the coast with you reminiscing  and trading stories for hours until the sun set and rose once again. 

The both of you stayed in contact, helping each other with the odd job here and there. Until you’d - until he’d gone and messed it up. 

Bucky’s phone rang, he let out a sigh before putting the phone against his ear. 

“Hello?” He breathed out. 

“Have you called her yet?” 

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand, “Sam, this really doesn’t concern you.” 

“The hell it doesn’t,” Sam chided him, “I’m the one that has to deal with all your depressing and moody attitude.” 

“I’m not -” 

“You are. That’s your default setting, man. But at least when you were talking with her it lightened up a little. It was only occasional scowls and grunts.” 

Bucky let out an annoyed groan. 

“That’s what I’m talking about, man! If you just humble yourself and grovel and apologize we can both get on with our lives. You were an idiot, now own it.” 

“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky grumbled, pulling the phone away from his ear. 

Faintly, he could hear Sam yelling at him. “As long as you call her next!” Bucky pressed the end call button and set the phone on the counter. 

Bucky tapped his fingers along the counter, his heart tensing up in his chest. He was getting nervous, he didn’t get nervous. Bucky threw his head back, letting out an annoyed groan. 

Fine, shit, fine!

Bucky picked up the phone and dialed your number. The ringing was endless, his heart beat faster and faster the longer you didn’t pick up. When the automated voicemail started he almost hung up, almost. 

“I know why you’re not picking up the phone. I get it. I just - Look I just want to talk. If you can,” he paused and let out a sigh, “I’m here in Brooklyn or I can -” the recording ended. 

Bucky nearly banged his head on the counter from frustration. He tossed the phone on the counter. Grabbing the beer bottle once more, he slide down the counter until he sat on the floor. 

Pathetic. He was pathetic. Somewhere out there he knew Steve was probably laughing at him. Didn’t you used to be the smooth one? He’d probably say. 

“In another life,” Bucky mumbled against the bottle, “In this one I’m an idiot.” 

------------------------------------------------

You played the message once more. You've heard it about ten times now. You never expected to hear from him again let alone have him call you. 

You worried your lip, finger ghosting over the call back button. Tossing the phone on the seat beside you, you slide down the sofa until you sat firmly on the floor. You head leaning back against the sofa cushion you stared up at the ceiling. 

You’d told him you were falling in love with him, and he’d just stared at you. Stared at you until you’d tried to swallow back your words floundering like an idiot. 

You were always calm, you were collected. You couldn’t get nervous or ramble, you weren’t created that way. The Red Room had taken all that out of you. At least you had thought so until then. 

Bucky had a way of making you forget, at least momentarily, all the pain. When you were together it was just the two of you. The past would always exist, but with him, it almost felt like there was still a chance at a future. One with less pain and blood. 

You’d been wrong. 

You’d been embarrassed. You never wanted to feel that way again. Swallowing, you picked yourself off the floor. 

There was only one way through this. You’d have to face it. Grabbing your keys you made your way to Bucky’s apartment. You’d been staying in New York since the two of you had reconnected, after today, you might finally be able to leave. 

When you finally made it to his door, you’d stared at it for a solid minute before picking the lock. You wanted to have the upper hand here, and this was the best way for you to do it. 

Quietly, you made your way into his living room. Bucky was sprawled along his mattress on the floor. His arm was thrown haphazardly across his face. He’d yet to make the transition onto an actual bed. 

“You really should have a better security system,” you said. Your hands were tucked into your coat pockets. 

“Don’t need one,” Bucky said quietly, sitting up from the floor. He had trouble meeting your gaze. He bent his knees, his arms resting against his legs. “I know the sound of your footsteps.” 

He cleared his throat, his eyes finally daring to meet yours. He looked tired, more tired than you’d seen him in a while. You almost wanted to reach out and comfort him. 

Almost. 

“What is it exactly that you couldn’t just tell me over the phone?” You questioned. You shifted your weight, arms now crossing against your chest. 

“I wanted to say I was sorry.” 

“For what?” 

Bucky’s eyes pierced yours. “I should have-” 

“Look, James-” 

“Don’t.” Bucky stood tall now, his body dangerously close to yours. If you were anyone else it might terrify you, but you’d never been scared of him, even when you should have been. You swallowed, your breathing growing more shallow. 

“Don’t close off on me,” his voice grew heavy. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to argue. 

“I can see it, I know that look. I know I messed up, but don’t close off because of me.” 

You blanched, “I’m not closing off.” 

Bucky let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. He paced in front of you now like a nervous cat. Your eyes followed him, watching as he paced. 

“I don’t know how to be a person anymore. I’m trying, and I’m failing.” He managed to choke out. “Nothing I ever do seems to come out right.” 

Bucky stopped pacing and he looked at you. His eyes were watery now, his expression pained as if he was feeling every emotion at once. 

“James,” you said softly, taking one step toward him. 

Bucky tried his best to compose himself, to reign in the emotions overpowering him. 

“When you said you loved me, I wanted to say it back. I don’t know what stopped me. No,” he paused, “I do. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to be happy. Not after all the pain I caused.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you reasoned. “It’s not any of our faults, James. We did what we were told. What we were trained to do. You more than anyone else.” 

He looked at you with that same expression that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. He looked at you like you were gravity anchoring him to the earth. 

“I do, love you,” Bucky whispered, taking a tentative step towards you. “I finally feel myself when I’m with you. I thought…everything feels a little lighter when I’m with you. I don’t think I want to fight that feeling anymore. I love you. I don’t want to run from it anymore.” 

Bucky reached out timidly to cup your face. When you didn’t pull away, he cradled your head in his hand. You stood there holding each other close. To broken people finding acceptance in the other.

[dykedvonte]

I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.

I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.

It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.

There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.

[spittingstar]

doa

[bluublu-blub]

yan! ex husband (pt. 2)

was supposed to write something on Wednesday but i was still sick. i think i have the worst luck since june came but i am feeling a lot better now. i was almost sent to the hospital but it's a good thing, i wasn't. here is the update for you guys, sorry for the long wait.

He's crazy. 

You looked as he gripped on the divorce papers with so much ferocity that you had ever seen him. He's diligently and quickly reading the fine print as his hands shake from gripping on it. It feels as though you are watching a man descend to madness.

It made you step back away from him.

Then, the paper falls from his grip.

You took one step back further.

"I..." He started. "No... Why?" Now, he is staring at you like you had wronged him when he is the one who left you hanging for years!

"Just sign it." 

"No!" He looked at you with pleading eyes. "I can still fix this. What do I need to do? Do I need to earn more? Spend money on you? What should I do?"

You took a deep breath before looking at him with cold eyes. "Nothing."

"Nothing...?" He repeated softly.

"I don't need anything from you." You stated. "Just sign it."

"But... I..." He looked down at the paper, tears slowly filling up in his eyes. 

You gave him a little push as you bent down in front of him, giving him the pen and pushing the divorce papers in his face. "C'mon, sign this as a last token of your appreciation for me." 

Holding his shaking hand towards the paper, you gave him a smile as he stared at you through his tears. "I..."

"If you still have love left inside your heart, sign the paper."

That was the last time you ever saw him. As soon as he signed his signature, you dropped your smile and left him. Not before telling him your parting words.

"We shouldn't have wasted our time together." You didn't turn back to look at him. "Especially when you only think for yourself."

It's over.

He repeated those words in his mind again and again as he was left hanging at your shared apartment. The pen that he used to sign your divorce paper was left forgotten in the ground. He could only stare emotionless at the wall as he slowly processed what had happened to him.

It's over.

He had arrived at home from his residency. Early for change and excited to rest and spend time with you. He's eager to try your cooking after years of hospital food. 

It's over.

He could hear his own breathing.

He could still feel the tears in his face.

He could barely move.

He could remember your face for the last time.

It's over.

Time must've passed by, the window no longer emitted the light from the sun but he still remain on his place as he thought back on how could he fucked up.

He didn't cheat.

He didn't do anything wrong.

He is always there for you.

There's no reason for divorce.

It's over.

He doesn't know what day it is. But, he had managed to find strength to move and go to work because you wouldn't want a useless husband, right? 

This… this will pass. 

You will be back and everything will be okay.

It's not over yet.

He doesn't really remember what actually happened. He looked at the spot next to his side of the bed, wondering when you would be home. He shrugged, laying on his side as he hugged your pillow to make up for your lack of presence. 

(He also doesn't remember when was the last time you two had a date.)

(He also doesn't remember when it was your birthday and your anniversary.)

(He also doesn't remember what your job is.)

(He also doesn't remember your favorite music as of late.)

(He doesn't remember if you bought a new book and a new plushie.)

(He doesn't remember what your current comfort food.)

He went to sleep, not remembering a thing.

It hits him that you weren't coming back when he saw you at a cafe in a different part of the country. He was at a seminar when caught wind of you and almost called your name when he saw you with another person.

So, he watched you in the distance as he greedily tried to memorize your current appearance. 

Then, he remembered. 

Suddenly, he felt he was in your shared apartment again —on the floor, crying for you. 

He remembered that you weren't coming back to him. 

That's fine. 

He continued to observe you. The lease for your shared apartment is expiring soon, he had already bought a house for the both of you. It will not trouble him trying to talk sense to you. He won't be an absent husband —he changed, he will take care of you now. He learned his lessons.

It's time for you to go back to him, please.

He followed you when you parted ways with your little friend. He will take care of that guy later but he needs to take care of you first.

Lovingly.

He slowly and cautiously walked towards you. Appearing harmless to you with a smile and a wave.

“Hey,” he greeted you. 

He soaked up all of your attention as your eyes widened in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” You glared at him.

He put his arms up as if to show you he means no harm. “I have a seminar in this area.” 

You glared more.

“I was surprised to see you so I figured I could go and say my greetings to you.”

“Well you already did,” you snapped back at him. “Leave.”

“Let’s catch up first, darling.” He purred. “I have words to say to you.”

“Leave.”

“Don't be heartless.” He quipped. “It reminded me of the time you forced me to sign out divorce papers.”

You are always smart, aren't you? He chuckled as he watched your expression drop into nervousness while still staring at him with such intense eyes.

But, he knows you.

You wouldn't dare cause a scene in public.

“Fine. I am picking where we are going.”

He smiled even wider when you scoffed at him.

So cute.

He would not let you go now.

i wished i have managed to captured the essence of the descend to insanity and mc's personality. mc isn't a good person and neither is yan! ex for that matter but that makes them human in a way —and i wanna try and capture that feeling. in a way, mc was passive during their relationship together and yan! ex was too complacent that he could fucked up and mc would accept him either way. but, that's not how it works out for him and he's in denial for that. one could argue that they could've talk and communicate with each other —it will work out but mc needed to leave in order to grow. yan! ex just didn't get that nor does he want that.

[labyrynth]

feeling bad today lads 🙃

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans Series Rec List

thought i’d make a list of all the best cevans (characters) series i have read!! i have lots more to add and will continue to update this list🫶🏻 i will also create a one shot fic rec list in the near future💖💘💞

Preying On You Tonight - @evansbby

“Steve is the cocky, brash and domineering alpha who makes your life at university a living hell every day. You’re the complete opposite - quiet, meek and reserved. You’re convinced Steve hates you, but what happens when he finds out you have a boyfriend? (a/b/o dynamics)”

Wicked Games - @evansbby

Ari is the campus fuckboy and you’re his little plaything. But he’s telling the truth when he says he’s going to make you his girlfriend soon, right?

What A World - @onsunnyside

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that. [tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader, nomad!steve, size difference]

Just Because I Won’t Die For You, Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Kill For You - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd Hansen is just another job for you. Your last job. However, when he decides that he wants to take you for a ride and have a good time, well...how’s a girl supposed to say no?

Closer To Heaven And Closer To You - @georgiapeach30513

When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure.  Knowing that a rodeo is in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers.  All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Just Like The Caged Bird - @georgiapeach30513

You are a widow who moves back to her husband's hometown after selling your in Georgia home.  Moving in above your brother in law's garage.  Sharing the space with his friend Bucky Barnes, but your other brother-in-law Andy causes problems, along with your overprotective brothers.

Pretty Petals - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems. (multi-character)

His Koala Bear - @kinanabinks

you and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it's getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it.

Belong Here - @angrythingstarlight

Steve has been looking for his perfect girl and suddenly there you are stuck in this dingy restaurant. You don't belong here, you belong with him.

Finding Home - @navybrat817

Steve finds a home with you. (lumberjack Au)

Their Doll - @kaiparker-avengerssmut

y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

No Better Than Beast’s - @lokislastlove

You’re an animal rights activist who sets out to put an end to animal testing… but it’s a risky mission. (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Doppelgänger - @boxofbonesfic

Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale + Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Million Dollar Man - @chrisevansgoodgirl

your relationship with ransom and his insane family.

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart - @spacesnail3000

Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise.

Let It Snow - @spacesnail3000

She was his Omega, and Steve had a plan. She would love him. He knew she would.

Sweet Renegade - @cevansbrat0007

A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.

Evergreen, Evermore - @babyjakes

loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

A Huckleberry Is Nothing Without His Hummingbird - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd and Y/N have been amicably(ish) divorced for four years. However, when earth shattering trauma come their way, will they lean into what they truly want, or will the flames from past traumas still burn too bright?

Civil war- Brooklyn - @saiyanprincessswanie

Ten years ago the Readers world was turned upside down when her father was killed by Hydras Brock Rumlow. She believes the loves of her life Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes were also killed while trying to avenge her fathers death. Reader is now working for the FBI on a task force that is meant to take down Hydra. She volunteers to go undercover to take down Hydra. In doing so she not only puts herself in the cross hairs with Rumlow but she gets to meet the mystery men causing Hydra issues. Who are the Captain and Winter Soldier? What lengths will you go through to uncover the truth and seek revenge?

The Boston Brute - @time-for-a-lullaby

When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake. 

Planet Evans Universe - @astranva

In which Chris was a nervous mess when he met his A+ list celebrity crush, highest-paid, and the most iconic actress, you, at Vanity Fair’s 2014 after party. (Following the life of overprotective!dad!Chris x wife!actress!reader!)

Don’t Speak - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (Dark!Andy Barber)

Cat and Mouse - @queen-of-the-avengers

You’re called the Vixen because you were HYDRA’s favorite creation. You’re very hard to catch, and once you are, it’s even harder to keep you.

Let’s Ride - @starryevermore

You’re a single mom and have just moved into a new town. You have no interest in looking for love, but the funny thing about love is, it waits for no one. (Biker!Ari Levinson)

Out Of The Darkness - @sunshinexsin

Sienna Jons has lived in Boston for three years now after graduating and is running her own salon in the city. With a small group of friends sticking by her side, she's content with her life. Enter Chris Evans, a known and feared mob boss in Boston’s underground crime world. Coming out of a long relationship ended in a bitter divorce, Chris isn’t looking for anything serious until Sienna crosses his path. Trying to win her over proves difficult for the man who seemingly has it all and Sienna is not willing to be with someone who causes such destruction in his own hometown. Sienna soon finds herself entangled in the crazy, violent world of the mob and struggles to find a way to either live with the hardened man Chris has always been or get away from him before her own life spirals out of control.

Murder He Wrote - @wiypt-writes

You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale)

Poison Paradise - @the-iceni-bitch

Robert Pronge was sure he could settle for a fake domestic life as long as he could go on killing. Little did he know that you could give him everything he needed.

A Bun In The Oven - @witchywithwhiskey

the leaves are changing—green fading into golden yellow, burnt orange and radiant red—and the days are getting shorter and colder as autumn settles in. it's the perfect time of year for baked goods, fall foliage, book stores, and to curl up next to (and get under) our favorite man with a plan, steve rogers

Wilford’s Demands - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Wilford places you in Curtis’ care so he can impregnate you.

In The Balance - @goodgirlofglory

One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?

Drowning Siren - @rogerswifesblog

The Avengers found an old abandoned HYDRA base, that had been cleared after HYDRAs existence had been exposed. At least they thought it was cleared. It was the biggest experimental lab they had ever seen, the closest base to the ocean, full with creatures-dead creatures. Some of them laid still on tables, stripped with metal cuffs, open and already rotting. It was an awful smell. But then they heard something beautiful. A melody, a beautiful voice singing unbelievably gentle sounds. Walking into the building full with ocean creatures, they had no idea their life was about to change.

Vampire Kings Religion - @marvelcriminalhoe

In a world where fantasy beings roam every corner, the humans are on the bottom. Looked at as weak and disgraceful. The vampires are the opposite. They rule the land, and all of the creatures that take part of it. the current ruler, King Steven, has ruled for more than 150 years, alone. After many nights, and long talks with his most trusted hands, he comes to the long awaited decision that he will finally, take a wife. All female creatures, are to be evaluated, so he can find his perfect match. Of course, no one expects for him to choose a human. Especially not one from the church. Especially not the daughter, of the leader, of the church. The same church that detests the mythical creatures, wishing for nothing more than for them to perish in fire. How could this union possibly end well?

Ride And Prejudice - @pagesoflauren

A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job.

Love On The Brain - @howardpotts

You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and voilence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer? (MobBoss!Steve Rogers)

Flamingo King - @onsunnyside

The sun is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole damn city?

Make It A December To Remember - @imyourbratzdoll

AGE AND SIZE DIFFERENCE IS ADDED TO ALL! SANTA AND THE GRINCH ARE LARGER THAN THE READER! THE ELVES ARE THE SIZE OF HER PALM! (a chris evans xmas universe)

This Love Is Bad - @wildestdreamsblog

You were just trying to escape your past, and Ari was trying to chase his future.

Nowhere To Run - @sagechanoafterdark

On the last day that Steve spent in your small town before heading off to basic training for the army, he made sure it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. Years later when he appears in your town he seems like a changed man in more ways than one, but you’re ready to show him that you’ve never forgotten that day. (Dark!Steve Rogers+ Bucky Barnes)

Nice To Be Kneaded - @rogersideup

Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. Steve Rogers face had been plastered on the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. It had been just a few long months shy of a year, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, he found himself in the scanty town of Greenwood in the house right next to yours.

Forever And Ever More - @syntheticavenger

Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha who has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not.

Hackers Heart - @bakugousaysdie

steve rogers has always been america’s golden boy, leading earth’s mightiest heroes and serving his country. you have always been bad with boundaries, a little too curious, and an absolute disruption. you are an absolute menace,so it’s only right you fell in love with the most adored man in the country.

Arranged - @time-for-a-lullaby

Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

[maxivstappen]

hi! i saw that you have a 1k event so i was wondering can i request, the lyrics “open up the door,can you open up the door?”- chihiro, billie eilish. “I want you to stay”-birds of a feather, billie eilish. with max verstappen?

OPEN UP THE DOOR ! MV1

[ 1k event / masterlist ]

☽｡⋆ max seems to be in a terrible condition, so you really need him to open the door now — max verstappen x reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst, hurt & comfort, fluff? 𝄞 0.8k words (blurb)

He had been down for days now, a breakdown as foreseeable as the weather.

He was at his breaking point, but made sure nobody knew. Of course, he knew that showing emotion isn’t something to be ashamed of regardless of one’s gender, but there was still something so humiliating about having to give in, about having to speak about his - what the formula one fans called it - “downfall”.

He didn’t want to give in because he hadn’t lost yet. He was still leading, still the one with better chances to win the championship, but all praise towards Norris, someone who’s supposed to be his friend first and rival second, hurt like hell.

So after yet another pole for Norris, even though the rest of the day went incredibly well for Max, he really needed to let it out. Finally.

He hurried off into his driver’s room, face all red and hands shaking. He didn’t even know himself if he felt anger or sadness right this moment, all he knew was that one more stupid question by a reckless reporter would give him the rest, and a scandal like that would only make things worse. Couldn’t people just let him do his damn sport and drive? Who gives a fuck about his relationship to his fellow drivers, who cares about who he thinks should be McLaren’s first driver? Was his opinion really that important?

As if that wasn’t enough already, he had to put up with insults and doubts from fans and even his own team as well. They want him to be flawless yet only ever remind him of his flaws.

Max paced around his room, droplets of sweat running down his cheek. He was fucking done with this shit. Why couldn’t they just let him do his damn job? All he signed up for was driving, and now he had to meet random celebrities he doesn’t even know the names of, he has to put with drama fueled up for nothing and the fia now also wants him to stop swearing as if he was some little kid. It was absolute bullshit to him.

His hands clenched into fists and the familiar taste of blood in his mouth was the only thing keeping him from biting down onto his lip even harder.

But then he heard a knock.

“Max? Can you open up the door?”

He recognized you immediately. Your voice was soft and tender like the one of an angel, making his heart flutter, yet he didn’t want you to see him like that.

You were one of Max’s new engineers, and he had never been so happy to see a new face in the Red Bull garage. It was unusual at first, but you two got along as if you’d known each other for forever already, making the separation of the private life and the work life harder than Max usually knows it to be.

You had noticed that Max has been on edge for a while now, especially today. Seeing him run off to his driver’s room only worried you more.

“Sorry, y/n. Can’t at the moment”

Maybe this wasn’t professional of you, and maybe you shouldn’t be standing in front of his door waiting for him to welcome you in, but maybe you were good enough friends for you to know that he shouldn’t be alone right now, even if he thinks differently.

And maybe you wanted nothing more than to finally be there for him like he was for you when you explained to him how weird it felt to work at a place you’ve never even known or seen from outside the tv before.

“Max, can you open up the door? Please? I’m worried”

And that was all he needed to hear. The last thing he wanted was to worry you over what is supposed to be meaningless stuff like this.

He knew you were the right person for him to see right now, and he also knew you wouldn’t judge him.

And so he finally opened the door, the familiar scent of your perfume immediately filling up his nose making him practically fall into your embrace. You slightly pushed the door with your foot so it would close by itself before burying your fingers in his hair while he breathed down your neck.

With your hands cradling his scalp and his arms tight around your waist, Max knew one thing for sure; he wanted you to stay.

guys ik this is very short & bad but i cannot do better atm because of school! very sorry :( but i’m working on some other stuff already!!

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 5 Part Two

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You and Joel go to a Shibari class together; an innocent date, or is it?

TW: age gap (Joel 45/reader 22), reader does have some descriptors so more of an OC. Reader has longer hair and Joel can lift her. Mutual pining, kissing. Spoiler triggers below the cut in red.

WC: 8.2k

AN: Ok fiiiiiinnnneeeeee I couldn't wait any longer and I left you all on kind of a cliffhanger. As always, thank you to my lovely @lotusbxtch for reading and encouraging and helping me grow. Thanks @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69 and @joelmillerisapunk for being my lil cheerleaders. @for-a-longlongtime thanks for stoping me from working on that bull rider series LOL. Ok, enjoy this slowly because I haven't even STARTED chapter 6 yet, so I doubt it will be out until late October. Dividers and banners by the oh so talented @saradika-graphics

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: complete sensory deprivation (tied down, blind folded and has hearing blocked), multiple orgasms, denial

Joel

Joel has tried to keep his distance since referring to tonight as a date. He left another large tip for your clean this week and then made sure he was as busy as possible to stop himself from going home to see you. As he coaxed you into drinking the orange juice and the water he kept hearing “it’s a date” over and over again in his mind, and he’d cringe internally. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you had leaped out of that bed and ran home. The thought of you wanting him in that way is ridiculous. Not only because he’s over twice your age, but you came to him for help with building self confidence and for an escape, and then he went and said something so fucking stupid. 

He shakes his head and pulls up his emails, trying to distract himself for what feels like the one hundredth time. Of course he wants to date you, he’d be crazy not to, but he can’t blur those lines. Furthermore, even if there was the slightest chance that you felt the same way he can’t risk breaking your heart the way he’s broken so many others.

She’s going to break yours, old man. Not the other way around.

Wednesday has been absolutely crawling. Time almost mocking him with how slow it’s ticking by. As he goes over the list of tonight's guests, Tess knocks on his small office door at the club.

“Hey,” she says, plopping down in the arm chair across from the desk. “You coming tonight?”

“Of course. Looks like a good turn out. Did the instructor make it in ok?”

“Cap picked her up from the airport yesterday and got her all settled at the hotel. Do you think you’re going to need me tonight?”

Joel cocks an eyebrow at her. He’s known Tess since she was ten. Her and Tommy are the same age, Joel being two years their senior. Aside from a few months when Tess and Tommy were sixteen, the three of them have been inseparable ever since. Tess was usually the undeclared leader of the group due to her bossy nature, but she kept the Miller brothers out of trouble most of the time. 

“What’s wrong, Tess?”

“Nothin’,” she crosses her arms across her chest. “I am the planner, you and Tommy are the personality. I’m fine to stay behind the scenes for this one.”

“You’ve been acting strange since the poker night.”

She rolls her eyes at him. She’s probably the only person ballsy enough to do that to Joel besides Tommy, but Joel’s almost convinced his little brother is more dumb than ballsy. “I’m fine, Joel. The staff is all in good morale, and that’s my department. Remember?”

Joel just stares as she continues, lowering her voice to mock his. “I need you to be the people person. Hire them, train them. I’m not patient enough because I’m a big scary dom who will just want to spank them for not listening. I also can’t plan anything because I have a man brain.”

“Hilarious,” Joel deadpans as Tess laughs at her own jokes. “I’m being serious though, are you sure you're ok?”

“Yes, you don’t need to be concerned about me. I’m actually a little gutted I’m gonna miss it. Tommy told me there’s been a very pretty young lady hanging around you lately.”

Joel puts his reading glasses on with one hand and pointing to his door with the other. “Out.”

You

Joel referring to tonight as a date has been on loop for the last few days. He has this amazing way of shutting off your brain and then leaving you with so many new questions. Either way, when a few more college letters came over the last few days you convinced yourself that right before leaving for the shibari-demonstration-slash-date was the best time to open them. 

Odette and Jamie sit on the couch across from you as you slide open the first letter. The thick eggshell parchment stamped with the Yale logo pops open easily. You close your eyes as you open the paper, the only sound in the room is the thundering of your heart behind your ribs. 

You peel your eyes open and read out loud. “We regret to inform you that you have not…” your voice falls off, fingers shaking as you put it back in the envelope.

“Hey, we expected a few no’s,” Jamie says gently, always the optimist.

Odette takes the other approach, “Their fucking loss, bunch of stuffy old cunts! Next!”

You laugh at the juxtaposition of your friends' responses and reach for the Harvard letter. “We regret to inform you…”

“Keep going babe,” Jamie says softly.

You pick up the bright white Columbia letter. “We regret to inform you…fuck.” You feel the defeat start to creep in, like thick morning fog. It’s suffocating, choking all the happiness and excitement you had for tonight. 

“What the fuck is wrong with these schools!” Odette says, snatching the letters up so she can check for herself. “Do the Toronto one, Canadians are supposed to be nice.”

“I can’t open anymore,” you say as your head falls back into the sofa. The fog starts to spread through your body, shutting you down inch by inch. You know you have to open the rest. You’ll spend the rest of the night wondering what they say if you don’t finish them. “You do it, Jamie.”

She shuffles in her seat uncomfortably. She’s not the kind of girl who likes to disappoint others; she's bright and happy but at this moment she’s the only person that you can take bad news from. As if she can read your thoughts, she grabs the University of Toronto letter. The sound of the envelope popping open slices through you. She clears her throat as she opens the paper and then reads aloud the same sentence you did. The letters from Duke and Notre Dame follow the same painful routine. With each rejection your stomach swirls, nausea building on top of self doubt and anxiety. 

Six out of the eight universities you applied to have turned you down; Berkeley and the University of Austin are your only chances left at reaching your dreams. The silence in the small rental unit has you on edge, so much so that when your phone vibrates beside you you jump. A sunset beach photo from your last trip to California is the background from a text from Cap telling you he’ll be at your doorstep in about twenty minutes. 

“I gotta finish getting ready,” you say, dragging yourself to the bathroom to touch up any makeup and brush your teeth.

“Babe?” Jamie says, following you down the hall. “You wanna stay here instead of going to that mixer?”

The reminder of the lie sends a new wave of nausea through you. Tonight you became a law school reject and an even bigger liar. Don’t forget that you’re also falling in love with an unattainable man, says the glittery pink box. You mentally lift a single finger in its direction, it usually doesn’t turn on you like that. 

“I need the distraction.” You say, deciding that that’s not really a lie.

Your friends look at you with sadness in their eyes and even though you’re sad too, you wish you could tell them about Mister Miller and the club. You know they’d be excited about whatever this thing is and it would really help to have someone to decipher all the moments that live in your mind.

“It’s a date”.

When you walk through the large door from the lobby and into the club, you’re welcomed by a completely different atmosphere. It’s not all dim lights and sexy music like it normally is; instead the overhead lights are on and all the people are dressed in regular clothing or athletic wear and not the sexy outfits they’d normally pick to come here. Joel is no exception, dressed in dark wash jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. You catch the glint of his gold ring while he’s engrossed in deep conversation with a blue and purple haired woman along the edge of the dance floor. As if you’re his due north or the other side of his magnet, after just seconds of being in the same room as him, his eyes collide with yours. He mouths an ‘excuse me’ at the woman without looking away from and his long legs eat up the distance between the two of you. He meets you just before the bar and immediately wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to the nape of your neck, silently guiding your forehead to his strong chest.

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” You love how easily he can read you, but you hate that this is the second time this week that he’s seeing you like this. You know you have moments of weakness, but you don’t let anyone see that and you DEFINITELY don’t inconvenience others with your weakness. 

“Hasn’t been my best day, but I really don’t want to talk about it.” You don’t want to dump all of this on him now, not when he looked so excited when you said you’d attend tonight. 

“Ok, I’m here for you if you want to talk about it though. You don’t have to deal with this on your own.” His lips come to the crown of your head and you breathe him in letting his ash and leather scent break down your walls. 

“I didn’t get in,” you mumble and he holds you tighter for a brief second before his hand moves to your chin and tilts up to meet your gaze.

“All of them?” he asks gently but something akin to anger flares in eyes for just a second. 

“Six of them. I haven’t heard from two.” His thumb feels like heaven as it runs along your jaw.

From across the club the blue and purple haired woman, who is now on the stage, claps her hands. “Good evening, everyone! I’m Starr. If you and your brave partners could start making your way to the floor, we can get started right away!”

“Do you want to leave?” Joel says, his warm coffee and chocolate eyes dancing around yours. No one looks at you like that; no one ever asks what you want. This is one of those looks that you wish you could talk to your friends about.

“No,” you say truthfully. “I want to be here with you.”

“I wasn’t going to let you leave without me. Do you want to go somewhere else together?”

You step back and grab his hand, his fingers thread through yours as if you do this everyday, as if this is normal, and you pull him towards the floor. He stands behind you, an arm wrapped protectively around your middle, similar to how he did the first time you went through the voyeur room. Starr introduces herself and her wife and then begins explaining rope safety and terminology like rigger and rope bunny, before launching into a step by step on tying a beautiful star harness across her wifes clothed chest. The two women hand ropes to the person who will be doing the rigging and as the rope lands in Joel’s hand your pussy flutters at the realization that you’re about to become Mister Miller’s rope bunny. You knew that coming here tonight, even if it did include lying to your friends, would help you feel better. The disappointment of being rejected is slowly replaced with an excited anticipation of learning something new with a man who has done nothing but choose you since laid your eyes on each other.

Starr projects step by step instructions up on the back wall of the stage and Joel clears his throat behind you as he begins. The sound of the rope running through his hands as he folds it in half sends a shiver up your spine. You try to distract yourself by clipping your hair up and out of the way. 

“Arms up,” he rasps, and places a light kiss on the soft curve of your neck as he wraps the rope around your ribcage, just below your breasts. You purposely wore a tight t-shirt and leggings tonight. If anyone asks, you’ll say you just assumed it would be easier to be in something form fitting rather than loose, but the truth is that you did some research on Shibari classes and it was recommended to wear clothing that was tight to the body. As he walks around you to make the first diagonal cross of your chest he says, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

You lock your eyes with his as he loops back up, crossing the rope over your other shoulder and walks behind you. “Yes, at least not yet.” 

“Alright,” he says softly, pulling the rope back through the first band he made. “What do you want to talk about then?”

Your daughter. Your wife. The guitars and books of lyrics. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? Do you like me or do you like like me? How do you feel about an age gap romance? Your brain races with a million things you could ask, and maybe would ask on a date. However, this is anything but a date, right? A dom and sub don’t date, there are strict rules. He tells you what to do, you do it. You don’t date.

The silence between you two feels like it’s lasted forever, you flinch as you ask the first thing you can think of. “How old are you?”

“Almost forty five. It says that on my profile, sweet girl. For someone who likes research…” His voice trails off. Is he flirting?

“I refuse to look at it in case you try to pawn me off to Tommy again,” you tease. You bite your cheek to hold in all the questions you want to ask as he chuckles behind you. You lift your arms as per the next slide and he brings the rope up towards your armpit as you settle on a neutral topic. “Baseball,” you say flatly.

Joel laughs silently as he walks around your body, the rope coming across to your other armpit and he’s behind you again. “Baseball?”

“Ya, it’s America’s favourite pastime.” Joel's fingers feel warm through the fabric of your shirt as he continues to work the ropes. 

“Ok, so what do you want to discuss about baseball?” He wanders in front of you again, following the instructions perfectly.

You shrug a little, lifting your arms again as you follow along with the slides. “Did you ever play?”

Starr circles around the two of you, “Great job, Joel. You ok, honey? Not too tight anywhere?”

You shake your head no and then you and Joel get lost in each other again. “Yes, I played for most of my childhood. I was pretty good too.”

You chuckle, “Why am I not surprised.”

“What?” he says, half laughing.

“Seems like Joel Miller is good at everything,” you say lightly, almost in admiration. He’s behind you again, feeding the ropes through themselves. The back looks beautifully intricate, and you can see other couples getting frustrated before either Starr or her wife comes and helps them. You continue, “Let me guess, you were like a big all-star pitcher or something?”

“No,” he answers.

“What position did you play then?” You glance down at your chest at the star shape across your chest, the rope scrapes gently on the exposed skin of your neck with the movement. It’s stunning, exactly as the demonstration and the picture. Yep, Joel Miller is good at everything. 

A new voice joins your conversation, “Best first baseman the school has ever seen.”

You crane your neck over your right shoulder towards the source; Tommy. You clench your molars when you see him with Jade; the beautiful icy blonde woman that Joel had tied to his desk the first time you met him. Joel shifts uncomfortably as she flutters her lashes at him. “As I was saying,” Joel huffs in his brother's direction before turning his attention back to you. “I played first base and Tommy was the back catcher. Our mom pretty much put us in any sport she could afford to keep us out of trouble.” 

“That’s kind of fascinating,” you say, looking back towards the stage and trying to get back into the safe little bubble you and Joel have created. 

“I dunno about that, sweet girl.”

The combination of him using that nickname and the feeling of his fingers on your body cause another shiver to roll up your spine, and suddenly it’s just the two of you again. It’s so easy to get lost with Joel, every ounce of that fog from earlier has dissipated. He’s like the warm morning sun, chasing away all the thick haze that coated you in the darkness. “I think this is a safe nickname space only, Sweet Cheeks.”

He swats your bum gently eliciting a giggle to pass your lips before getting back to weaving the rope in and out along your spine. “Careful. Now why is it kind of fascinating?”

“I mean, Tommy played at home plate, you played at first base.”

“I don’t know where you’re going here, Freckles.”

You smile over your shoulder at Joel. “Well, don’t you see the connection? You don’t have sex with your subs, Tommy does. He goes to home plate, you stay at first base.”

Joel arches an eyebrow at you as you flash him a cheeky smile and then he lets out a laugh. A real laugh that sounds like it’s coming straight from his stomach. His big beautiful smile draws up his cheeks causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle. The sound is almost enough to make you weak at the knees. “I swear to god, Freckles, I love the way your brain works.”

The rest of the group finishes off their harnesses and Starr begins the next part, explaining now how to tie the arms around the biceps and secure them to the harness. They hand out the ropes again and you reach behind yourself to criss cross your arms and grasp your opposite elbows. Just as Joel begins folding the rope over in his hands, Jade speaks.

“She sort of hit the nail on the head with that one, Mister Miller.” Envy flares in your eyes as she steps towards Joel, leaning into him. “I can’t wait for tomorrow. I’ve missed you.”

You glance towards Joel, expecting to see him looking angry but his soft eyes meet you with guilt written all over his face. You watch his throat as he swallows hard and the happy, sparkly bubble you built bursts and the fog returns. Your heart drops to your feet, it was too good to be true, you knew it was too good to be true and he almost had you fooled. You don’t think, you just act, you need to get away from this space and all these people as bile rises in your throat.

Your feet feel heavy as you walk quickly toward the voyeur room, slipping past the closed sign that's propped up outside the curtain that conceals it. Darkness surrounds you, the rope harness feels like it’s smothering you as you try to take deep calming breaths. A flash of light from the otherside of the curtain fills the room as someone follows.

“Go away, Joel.” You say quietly, trying to force air past the lump growing in your throat. 

“It’s Tommy.” He says, flicking on a dim light and noting the way you’re pulling at the rope closest to your throat. “Let me untie you so you don’t hurt yourself.”

You step back, a wall slamming down around you. Tommy raises his hands, “Please, just let me untie you so you can breathe.”

You spin slowly, giving your back to him and he approaches. His fingers pulling and working the ropes and the irony of him removing knots as you start to mentally tie yourself up in them is enough to make you nauseous. You retreat into your mind, looking for that stupid box. I fucking told you! You practically scream at the shadow you know it’s hiding in.

“Try to slow your breathing for me,” Tommy says softly as the rope begins to loosen and fall away from your body. Tonight felt too normal, too comfortable. You started to feel like maybe Joel was feeling the same way you do, but now you feel like you’ve been slapped across the face with yet another reminder that you are not enough. Six out eight universities and the man you completely misread. 

“I’m so fucking stupid.” It doesn’t come out self deprecating or angrily. Just as if you’re stating a fact, similar to how you’d say you like the colour green. 

“No, this is on me.” The rope falls away from your body and you step away, spinning to face Tommy. “I shouldn’t have said yes when she asked me to bring her here tonight. I assumed Joel had ended it before they were in Europe.”

“What?” You breathe out in disbelief. Even though you can see the rope in Tommy’s hands, it still feels like it’s around your throat.

You wander towards the nearest couch. All those pictures, all those flirty texts and she was there the entire time? You hear your mothers voice again, ‘You might be the smartest one in this town but the real world is going to eat you up and spit you out.’ Nothing has felt more true, especially today. Six schools rejected you, selecting smarter shinier applicants and now the same thing is happening with Joel. You knew you didn’t hold a candle to her, he wanted you to go with Tommy so he could keep her, didn’t he?

‘It’s only you.’ His desperate voice from the day in his office comes out of the shadows of your mind. But it’s not only you. If he didn’t end it with her then it’s her too. You’re constantly in competitions that you have no business being in. 

“No, not ‘they’. Not like that. They were there for different things, not together,” Tommy’s voice has a hint of panic. “...I’m really fucking this night up, aren’t I?”

Just then, Joel and Jade come through the curtain. “Sweet girl….”

“No,” you say, cutting him off with a wave of your hand. You want to yell and scream and ask him what was with all that “it’s only you” bullshit.

“Baby, please, just listen to me.” Joel kneels in front of you and you stand up. His hands come to either side of the couch, keeping you there. “Please?”

You can feel his eyes on you but you keep staring straight ahead, the curtains of all the rental rooms are drawn shut. “Please just go, Joel.”

Jade steps into your line of vision and you can feel the jealousy twisting at your stomach. She’s fucking beautiful. Long icy blonde hair that looks silky to touch, slender limbs and a perfectly symmetrical face. Her make up is done to perfection, and to top it all off she was kissed by an angel in the breast department. 

“I’m sorry. I left the country a few days after I saw you for your birthday celebration. I went to Germany to get married and I wasn’t coming back.” Her eyes go soft for a second as she looks down at her bare left ring finger and then back to you. “Clearly I didn’t do either of those things. I haven’t spoken to Joel and I just assumed our regular time slots still stood.”

Even without looking down, you know Joel hasn’t looked away. From the moment you met him, you’ve been able to feel his gaze on you. It’s one of the things you like so much about him, the way he looks at you. You feel warm and seen, and most importantly, safe in his gaze.

Tommy clears his throat gently and you glance his way. “Ending things with a sub is tricky. It has to be done in person. I know Joel better than anyone else, he ended things with everyone else. He’s gonna beat the shit out of me for this, but he’s crazy about you and he’s only ever looked at one other person the way he looks at you.”

“Tommy,” Jade's voice cracks as she says his name. “I think you should untie me so I can leave. I really am sorry, to all of you.”

You watch the two of them disappear back into the main area of the club before you finally allow yourself to look down at Joel. His eyes are big and soft, he looks so vulnerable. Is this real though? When you think about how easily he can slide on his dominant mask you aren’t sure what you can and can’t trust, and that’s really fucking horrible considering trust is the most important thing between a sub and dom. He could be lying, he gains blow jobs and doing whatever else he wants to your body by keeping this up. 

But what does Tommy gain from telling you what he just did? Tommy has no skin in the game here.

Joel  

His heart is flying wildly behind his chest, blood coursing through his ears. He never thought he was going to see Jade again. Neither of them talked about it really, but after that session that you walked in on she canceled the next one and told him she was moving to be with her fiance in Germany and was getting married. He continues to look up at you; the ever growing pinch in his neck be damned, he’s not looking away. Even at this angle you manage to take his breath away. It feels like hours have gone by when you finally speak.

“I thought it was only me,” it comes out as a whisper and immediately shatters the little bits that were left of his composure. 

“It is, sweet girl. I promise you it is.”

“I want to believe you,” your voice is so calm. He doesn’t deserve you being calm right now. Or does he? You came into this very methodical. Maybe these are just sub-dom transactions to you.

“What can I do?” He says hopefully. “I’ll do anything you need, sweet girl.”

You let out a shaky breath and he can see the wall building behind your eyes, that fun goofy girl who isn’t afraid to crack a joke is slowly locking herself away. He prepares himself for you to tell him this is over, or that you need time. He reminds himself that this was always going to end in heartbreak for him, so may as well get it over with now instead of when he’s fully in love with you, before he’s learned how those warm walls of your pussy feel against his cock. Because there really will be no coming back from that if that happens.

As he tightens the muscles in his core, physically preparing for the metaphorical blow to the gut he watches your long lashes flutter shut and when you open your eyes again the wall is gone. The shimmering pools of the eyes he’s enamored by are back and relief washes over him. 

“Nothing, Mister Miller,” your voice is saccharine sweet. “Trust is the most important thing between a sub and their dom. I can’t let my own anxiety ruin this, but I might just be a bit guarded until I’ve calmed all those thoughts.”

He whispers your name, biting back a groan as your hands meet his hair. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby girl.”

“I know. So am I. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous. It’s just…”

“No, you can be jealous. I told you one thing and -.”

You tug at the strands of his hair and shush him. “I’m not done,” your voice is stern. Joel isn’t used to hearing your tone like that and he suddenly feels his chest swelling with pride. This sweet bubbly person in front of him is morphing into a confident badass. That’s probably the exact tone you’ll use in boardrooms or courtrooms when other lawyers try to talk over you and he can only hope that one day he’ll get to witness that. “I shouldn’t have gotten jealous, but I really like the way I feel around you. It’s selfish of me, but I’d like to keep feeling like this for the few months I have left here before I leave for law school.”

Selfish. He lets that word wash over him. The most selfless person he’s ever known is worried about being selfish? No, he thinks, she deserves this. Hearing you say that you’re leaving makes him feel like his chest is caving in on itself. He’ll deal with the inevitable heartbreak when you leave him. He knows those rejection letters were hard on you, but he helped you to feel better and he’s going to hold on to that and give you that for as long as he possibly can. 

Your fingers release his hair and he watches you walk the few steps to where the rope Tommy untied for you lays on the floor. He licks his lips as you bend to pick it up, eyes trailing over the delicious curves of your ass. “It would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

You turn, walking back towards where he’s kneeling and holding the ropes out to him you say, “Is the workshop over?”

He stands up, his fingers grazing yours as he takes the rope. Electricity tingles up his forearms at the feel of your soft skin. Your body is so close to his that he can feel your soft warmth radiating against him. You being at this proximity immediately put him at ease.

“No, there’s a bodysuit tutorial right now,” he says. You nod, stepping around him. Suddenly, Joel grabs your elbow to stop you, lowering his lips to your ear, and lowering his voice to that gravelly tone he knows you love, he rasps, “I should punish you for letting another dom untie what’s mine.”

You smirk up at him, “I’d like to see you try, Sweet Cheeks.”

You

Joel works silently around you and you lose yourself for a bit in the events that unfolded tonight. Joel has knelt in front of you before, but never like that. The sad, helpless look in his eyes, the slight slump of the shoulders. He was submitting to you, and when your fingers met his scalp, he leaned into your touch. The way his body melted at your touch was intoxicating. He wasn’t Mister Miller in that room tonight, he was Joel, and the dichotomy of this man is astounding.��

After about thirty minutes of Joel twisting, turning and pulling he has your upper half tied into a zigzagged bodysuit of rope. Joel steps in front of you and bends slightly to reach between your legs. When he brings the rope between your thighs and as he feeds it through the bottom of the chest piece, the seam of your leggings brushes against your clit. You jolt at the contact, your cheeks flushing crimson as Joel's eyes meet yours in a flash of onyx and honey. He begins shaping the bottom part of the bodysuit, bent in front of you the entire time and locking eyes with yours every time he tugs the ropes into place. 

You glance nervously around the room to see if anyone else is having the same reaction. You expected this night to be fun and silly, the way a date should be. And it was for a while, but now it’s taken a very erotic turn. The blush of your cheeks warms down your chest and neck as you hold off on what could be a very vocal orgasm in front of a room of people who you don’t necessarily want to witness it.

Joel finally finishes the body suit and moves to stand behind you, his patchy facial hair brushes the shell of your ear as he whispers, his voice full of gravel, “Hands behind your back, my sweet girl. We aren’t done.”

A shiver races up your spine and your arms fly back. “So eager,” Joel says softly, grazing his teeth along the lobe of your ear, adding gasoline to the small fire that’s been building between your thighs.  

You’re sure the arm restraints only take about three minutes to complete, but it feels like hours. The three knots that lay around your wrists, forearms, and biceps keep your posture nice and tall, and your breasts pushed up through the body suit. Once he’s finished, Joel spins you to face him, and that rope works its way in between the lips of your now absolutely soaked pussy. You squeeze your thighs together, the soft expression on his face only intensifying the growing ache. He’s such a fucking tease, you think, and now he’s looking at you as if you put the stars in the sky. Finally, his dark brown eyes settle on yours and he gives you a closed lip smile.

“What?” You ask breathlessly.

“I jus’ thought that I’d go all caveman seein’ you like this,” he steps into you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other tugging on the rope near your waist, which jiggles the rope that has you on edge. Joel’s voice lowers, this next part just for you to hear. “But you just look so beautiful.”

He tugs up on the rope and pleasure courses through you as you gasp quietly. He gives you that sexy smirk that makes that dimple carve into his cheek. 

Yep, he’s a fucking tease. The little box says, confirming your thoughts. 

“You like that, sweet girl?”

He tugs again and your forehead falls to his chest. “Please, Mister Miller,” you whisper into his expensive cotton t-shirt. 

Starr interrupts the two of you, but you can’t peel yourself away from Joel right now. The slightest move of that rope might make you explode. “Well, based on that reaction I’d say you tied it just right, Joel.”

“Thank you for coming, Starr. I’m sure we’ll host one of these again soon. Tommy is by the bar, he can help you kick everyone out.”

“Joel,” she says, a slight hint of amusement in her now hushed voice. “Your rope bunny is on the verge of having an orgasm, go.”

With that he hoists you over his shoulder and walks towards the door that leads to the private rooms. “Fuckfuck, I’m gonna -” you whisper into his broad back and squeeze your thighs tighter as Joel walks. 

The second the door shuts, separating you from the others Joel puts you on your feet and jiggles the rope around your waist. “Come, baby.”

You fall into him for support, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you up as stars blur your vision. “That feel good, my little rope bunny?” 

“Yes - oh god, yes.” Your arms pull at the ropes restraining them behind your back and you can’t hold it anymore. Your orgasm practically slams through you as you gasp and moan into Joel's broad chest. “Fuck, Mister Miller.”

 “You’re so beautiful when you let go for me. I’ll never get sick of watching you like this.” He continues to work the rope as your high crests and your legs start to go weak and boneless below you.

“I can’t…p-please Mis - Fuck.” Joel lifts your lax and quivering body over his shoulder again and makes his way to his room, placing you at the foot of the bed, spinning you and pushing between your shoulder blades until your chest meets the mattress.

“Spread your legs,” he commands and you listen, moving your feet to be shoulder width apart. He wraps two cuffs around your ankles, and attaches them to the bottom of the bed posts before doing the same to the ropes around your arms. You’re trapped, stuck bent over the end of the bed and even though you’re fully clothed under all of these ropes, this is easily the hottest thing you’ve ever done. “Fuck me. How are you so goddamn sexy even when you’re fully clothed.”

You hear Joel’s footsteps around the room, gathering whatever he has decided to use on you tonight before you can feel him behind you. “Sweet girl, I do believe I read that you would be interested in sensory deprivation. Is that correct?” 

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

“Do I have your consent to blindfold you and then have you listen to music in noise canceling headphones?”

Fire erupts in your stomach, your core pulsing at the thought of him doing whatever he wants to you. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

A silky black blind fold slips over your head, Joel's large body covering your back. “What’s your safeword?” he growls, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“Stegosaurus.” Just once you’d like that to not leave your lips in the whiny, desperate tone it does when he asks you that question. 

“Good girl,” he praises before the plush headphones cover your ears. All you see is black, all you hear is soft decorative piano music, and all you feel is the warmth of Joel over your buzzing skin. There’s not a single thought in your mind, everything is silent. This is what you need and you start to worry that you’ll become addicted to the way Joel makes you feel everything while thinking nothing. 

The warmth of his body disappears from you and you whimper at the loss. Your eyes clench closed as if that will help you be able to find him. A thin, pulsing vibrator hits the back of your thigh and you jump. Joel's large hands rubs your opposite hip and every muscle relaxes under his touch. The vibrator pulses softly as he moves it up your thigh, tickling along your hip, and then down the other leg. You can’t hear the sounds that you’re making but you’re sure they’re desperate, needy gasps.

After teasing your arms Joel slips something small and hard between your body and the rope that’s been torturously teasing at your clit before you feel him pull away. You adjust so your forehead is resting on the mattress before it dips with the weight of him sitting beside your head. His warm fingers wrap around your neck and he kneads the muscles.

“Mmmm, thank you Mister Miller,” you hum. 

Whatever Joel slipped against your clit comes to life, a dull vibration that is sure to be your undoing has you attempting to arch your back, but you can’t move. Your breathing quickens, short little puffs of air passing your lips. 

“I’m gonna come,” you murmur quietly, or at least you think it’s quiet since you can’t hear yourself or anything else. Joel’s strong fingers continue the delicious swirling patterns up and down the sides of your neck as you begin to shake. “Oh god - I’m so close!”

Just as you’re about to slam head first into another orgasm the vibrating stops and Joel’s fingers disappear from your skin. “No,” and this time you know it wasn’t a whisper or a whimper.

The mattress jostles and then you feel Joel behind you again. A hand comes to one of yours, coaxing it out of the fist you’ve apparently clenched before doing the same to the other. The vibrating starts stronger this time and both his hands come to yours, his thumbs massaging at your palms. It doesn’t take long this time before you’re right on that edge again.

“Fuck, Mister Miller. Puh-please don’t stop!” Your legs start the familiar shake that happens right when you’re about to tip over the edge and he doesn’t follow your wishes. The hand massage stops, quickly followed by the vibrator being switched off. You groan in frustration and he lays a quick, sharp spank over your legging clad right ass cheek. “Hnnng - sorry.”

You can’t be certain, but based on the warm puffs hitting your core you’re pretty sure he’s knelt down behind you. The vibrator comes to life again, stronger than the last two times and his hands work at massaging the muscles along the back of your thighs. This is torture; wonderful euphoric torture and as much as you want it end, you also don’t ever want him to stop making you feel this way. 

You let your eyes flutter open behind the blindfold, it’s still just as dark but you see that little pink sparkly box. The one that’s overflowing with emotion for Joel. You should push it back into the shadows or light it on fire, but instead you let it come out of the shadows completely. You see your hands reaching for the lid just as the white hot pleasure in your core gets close to the breaking point.

“Please please…Mister Miller - fuck!” You whimper and whine as it begins to burn hotter and then it’s gone and it feels like the air is being sucked forcefully out of your lungs. 

“Nonono, I can’t. Please, I need you..” Joel's large body is across your back in a second. The hard bulge in pants pressing against your ass and the memory of how good he felt and tasted in your mouth the last time has saliva pooling under your tongue. You swallow hard as one of the padded ear pieces is lifted from your ear.

Joel’s voice is deep and gruff as he says, “What do you need, my sweet girl?”

The little box of feelings vibrates at him calling you his and you kick it back into the shadows. “I need to come, Mister Miller.”

“That right? How bad?” He says teasingly before placing a feather light kiss on that sensitive spot right below your ear.

“So bad. Please, it hurts, Mister Miller.” You are pouting into the fluffy sheets, a completely whiny mess, and you realize that you’re always a mess for him. Be it a horny or depraved one, a whiny or a pouty one, he doesn’t care and if anything you think he likes it that way, likes you that way. “I want to hear you. I miss your dirty talk, please, baby!”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I should spank you until you can’t sit tomorrow for calling me anything but Mister Miller. You know that, right?” 

“I can’t think straight. I’m sorry, just please. Please!”

He whips the headphones off of you and the vibrator hits at an intensity you have never felt before. Your pornographic scream fills the room. His large body above yours intensifies everything that was already killing you.

“That what you need, huh?”

You cry out and try to say yes but you’re sure it’s all just an incoherent mix of sounds at this point. 

“God damn, baby girl. You should see yourself right now. All tied up in knots that I made. The way your leggings hug the curves of your hips and soft, creamy thighs. You’re going to be the death of me one day.”

Tears start to flow behind your blindfold as the pleasure almost becomes too much, you haven’t come yet, and at this point you aren’t sure if you’ll survive it if you do. You have half a mind to ask Joel if an orgasm can physically split you in two because that is how you feel right now. 

“I’m - oh god - I’m…” You try to form the words but you can’t. 

One of Joel’s hands slips between his front and your tied up arms, his hand wrapping tightly around yours. His lips come to your ear as whispers. “I got you, sweet girl, just let go for me.”

“Need to see you,” you say between gasps of air and the pleasure begins to burn in your. 

Joel peels the blind fold off. You blink him into focus, his warm eyes searching your face. “Let go, you’re ok.”

As per usual, it’s his words that seem to be that final push and you let your orgasm consume you. It starts as a cold spark, a shiver up your spine and then heat flushes through every since cell in your body. You moan and writhe beneath Joel who whispers your praises like a prayer. Talking you through the intensity of the feeling. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you’re sure your panties, leggings and the rope are ruined.

“I can’t!” You gasp and Joel slows the vibration to help you ride out the decresendo of your orgasm. As the jolts of your body slow, he follows suit; the vibrator going to a dull blip and eventually nothing. Joel's thumb traces soothing patterns on the hand he’s still holding between your bodies. You take a deep and shaky breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“Are you ok, angel?” he asks quietly and goosebumps somehow spread along your too hot body.

“Better than ok,” you say with a small smile.

Joel’s lips meet yours, soft and pliant and so full of passion. Your eyes shut as you part your lips for him and when your tongue strokes gently against his he lets out a small whimper that causes your pulse to leap. Mentally, you grab a bigger box, stuffing it with the realization that you’re falling for this man. But you will deal with that later, right now you just need to let yourself have something that is for, well… yourself.

Joel 

He breaks the kiss, even though he doesn’t want to. Even though he knows that by breaking this kiss it’s only going to mean you going home sooner.  “I need to get you out of these ropes and get some sugar into you.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as his nimble fingers work to undo your restraints, then the intricate knots that bind your arms, and lastly the bodysuit. He really did think you looked stunning all tied up. He didn’t plan for this night to go the way it did, but when he saw the slight flush of your cheeks and the way your eyes glazed over he couldn’t resist giving you what he knew you needed. He stays close, one hand protectively on your hip as you crawl onto the bed. Once he has you seated, he pulls a fuzzy grey blanket out from a basket beside the night stand and then opens the small fridge to grab you an orange juice and water.

He cracks the top of the orange juice. “Drink this for me, please.”

He watches your eyes do a quick half roll but you don’t fight him, fingers just barely grazing his as you take the juice from him. “I had fun tonight,” you say between sips as he walks to grab the coconut oil. 

Joel stands beside you. “So did I, sweetheart. Arm, please.”

You take the orange juice in your left hand and give him your right. Both of you watch as he puts oil on the few pink marks the ropes left behind. “Do you think I should change my safeword?”

He lifts one eyebrow at you and as he tends to your other arm says, “Why do you ask that.”

“I don’t know. It’s just…well, originally that little dinosaur on your coffee maker seemed so out of place. It intrigued me. Your home is beautiful, but the parts you let people see don’t give away any hints about you, except for that little dinosaur. But now that I know the whole story, it just seems too special of an item to be tied to what we do.”

“I don’t think we need to change it. You’re right, that little stegosaurus is special to me.” He sits sideways on the bed, grabbing the empty orange juice container and handing you the water. His jaw flexes once before he continues, “But so are you. I love that you felt a connection to that part of me. Ultimately, it’s your safe word, sweet girl, so you can make it anything you want, but I think it’s perfect for us.”

The soft look in your eyes as he speaks is almost enough to kill him, and when your lips twitch up ever so slightly at his words he knows he’s done for. He shouldn’t fall for you, especially since he’s sure there’s no way you’d ever feel the same way, but he can’t not fall for you.

Your name passes his lips with a nervous tremble, because he knows that what he’s about to say next is going to be his undoing. If you say yes to this next thing, if he continues spending actual time with you, he’s done.

“Ya?” you say before sucking your bottom lip through your teeth.

“Friday night is the five year anniversary party for the club. It’s a black tie event for all the VIP guests. Would you like to accompany me?”

He watches as your eyes land on your lap, your lips pressing together as if to suppress a smile. When your gaze floats back up to his, your eyes give you away. Try as you might to hide your expressions with him; he'll always know when you’re happy based on the glitter of your eyes.

“I’d really like that, Mister Miller.”

His forehead meets yours. “This might be a Sweet Cheeks moment.”

Thank you soooo much for reading! Remember to follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for future chapters xo.

Next Chapter

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Night in Vegas- Lando x fem reader

Summary: Y/N had been Lando's PR, it had been messy and she moved to Red Bull, but maybe things were not as bad as she thought.

Warnings: Abusive Max (Sorry someone had to be the bad guy) smutty ending.

Notes: No hate to anyone this story just needed a villain.

___________________________________________

The moment the job offer came from Red Bull you didn't think it twice. You had been Lando's PR for the last 2 years, which was kind of a nightmare. He had the worst cases of verbal diarrhea, not that Max didn't but the paycheck was worth the extra work. Also, the interactions with Lando had always been weird and uncomfortable.

He was so nice and funny around everyone else but you, whenever it was just you two, you could hear the grass grow. In the beginning, you tried to get to know him, create somewhat of a bond so you could understand him better and work around that info, but every time you tried to get him to tell you something about him he would shut you out, keeping his answers short and dry.

And here you were, your first six months as Max PR agent were...interesting, he was a master in driving but thanks to his dad and the people around him, his public image was a challenge, a challenge you loved to work, at least you did until he started showing his real self. It began with small tantrums, mood swings when an interview had been scheduled when he had agreed to go play paddle, or that one time on a bad day when a reporter asked him about his dad's history with the law even when you had precisely warned them not to ask about any of that.

But that was all fun and games until tonight's event for the Vegas GP. Usually, the US GP's parties were a nightmare. Tons and tons of media people and influencers with little idea about F1. Yet they were important to attend because of the amount of rich people the teams craved as their lawful sponsors, so all the drivers were requested to go. This meant an awful fight with Max who hated these events where he had to "prostitute" himself for a couple of millions, it was particularly tricky now that some pictures and supposed messages showing Kelly might have been cheating, surfaced. You promised him to warn everybody that any questions about his personal life were off the table for any of the interviews, but American media cared little about that.

"Are you stupid or something?" His angry voice was so much like his dad's. Dry, hurtful, and insulting even when he wasn't using big curse words.

"Max, I told everyone personal questions were off the table. I sent a memo last week and a reminder this morning" You walked following him closely as he exited the event venue. Your heels making it difficult for you to keep his pace.

"I don't care!" He stopped and turned towards you abruptly, making you crash against his body. "If Christian gives me any shit about not being here I will make sure he knows this was all your fault" His voice loud and angry felt even more intimidating as he was towering over you, his red face so close to yours you could feel the heat radiate from it.

"But-"

"Shut it, I don't want to hear it" He spat.

"Hey, mate, easy" You both turned to look at the curled hair driver approaching at a firm pace.

"Lando, this has nothing to do with you"

"It does when you're talking like that to Y/N" He gently held your arm pulling you back, placing himself between you and Max.

"How did you deal with this shit for two years? she's the worst"

"I disagree, she's the best"

"What? Why are you defending her?" Max looked in shock from Lando's intervention, and to be honest, so were you.

"Because I know the mess you are and you talking to her like that is unacceptable and most likely uncalled for. We should've never let her go, I've begging Zak to get her back and after this, there's no way I'm letting her stay at RB"

"What the fuck? I don't...Wait, did you two ...? She must be a good fuck if you want her back so bad" A bitter laugh left his chest.

There it was, the angry verbal diarrhea.

You wanted to jump in and tell him you had never even crossed two complete phrases with Lando, how the hell were you going to fuck him? But no sound left your body, you were just a passenger in this trainwreck.

"Max, come on, It's not her fault your life's a fucking mess and that you have no idea how to deal with it. And take it from me, mate, you don't need a PR manager, you need a therapist."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Max took a couple of steps forward and faced Lando menacingly. He wasn't much taller than the Brit but seemed angry enough to cause damage.

"This is enough" You finally spoke, your voice shaky as you grabbed Lando's arm trying to pull him back. But he didn't move an inch.

"I'm not afraid of you mate" Lando hissed.

"Ok enough" You said in the most motherly voice ever and stepped in between them. "Lando, thanks but that's enough. You two don't want to do or say anything you'll regret later"

"See you on the track, mate" Said Lando as he took your hand and pulled you toward the parking lot.

You walked with him still in shock from the situation, expecting for him to let go of your hand as soon as you were out of sight from Max, but he kept going until he reached the Valet and gave him his ticket.

"Thanks fo that" You tried breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I think I need to go back there tho, I might not have a job tomorrow, but I don't need them to fire me because of not complying with my duties, Maybe I can find Max and convince him-"

"If they don't fire you, you're quitting" He said as he typed on his phone.

"What?! No, I can't do that, I can't afford to lose my job"

"You'll have a job"His voice was confident as he kept typing.

"Lando, I really-"

"Your car, Mr.Norris" The valet cut you off opening the passenger door for you.

"Get in" Lando walked toward the door to hold it himself.

"Lan-"

"Get in... please" He finally looked at you, something in his eyes telling you to do it. Not wanting to perform another scene now in front of the valet, you got inside the fancy McLaren. Your feet thanked you for the much-needed rest after the little sprint.

He removed his suit jacket, got in the driver's side, and drove off.

"I swear, you're not going to be jobless, you can stop with the bouncy leg" A hint of a laugh in his voice. Of course, he could laugh about it, he was worth millions, if he lost his job that same night, he'd have enough money to live comfortably for two lives.

Your phone started ringing in your bag. Chirstian's face on your screen made your heart beat a thousand miles. You could almost hear him, his calm yet angry voice made your skin crawl.

"Don't answer him, there's no need"

"Lando, you don't get it, it's not that simple"

A ding on his phone and a pop-up notification on his console screen called your attention.

Zak: Fine, I'm ok with it, we can talk details tomorrow.

"See?" He said smiling at the notification. You stared at him confused.

"I promised him I would behave my best for the rest of my contract if they took you back. Welcome back to Mclaren" A big smile on his face. It was odd being on the receiving end of that smile.

"Sadly, you won't be working with me. You will be part of the team's PR, I think that's an even bigger paycheck, tho"

"Ok, stop stop stop" Your voice filled with slight panic. "What the fuck's happening?"

"Wow, your first bad word" He was way too entertained with the situation.

"That you know of" Your facade was off, screw being professional, this moment was a moment for panic.

Christian's number shined on your screen again.

"Hello" You finally answered.

"Y/N, I just got a thousand messages from Max, and from the team at the event, what's going on?"

"Christian, Max lost it after some journalist asked him about Kelly, I had clearly said no questions about that were allowed"

"You should not have left Max to leave the party, we need him back there"

"I tried to stop him but-"

"No buts, Y/n, that's your job"

"No"

"What?"

"No, that's not my job, I'm not a babysitter, I'm a PR agent, I should not be dealing with tantrums and the equivalent of being spit in the face by an angry baby just because he's Max Verstappen"

You took a deep breath as the man on the other side of the phone kept quiet. Netflix would kill to have footage of this situation.

"I quit" You finally said

"What?" His high-pitched voice told you he was as surprised as you by the words leaving your mouth. You turned to look a Lando, he had the biggest smile on his face.

"I quit, Christian. I can stop by to sign my resignation tomorrow."

"But-"

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. I will stop by your office tomorrow to sign whatever is needed and to return my credentials. Have a good night" You hung up with shaky hands. As much as you sounded confident you were screaming inside.

"Nice" Lando's accent so thick.

"Oh my God" You placed your head between your legs and took deep breaths, trying not to faint.

"It's ok, it will all be ok" You felt his hand run softly up and down your back which felt weirdly soothing and calming.

You finally felt calm enough to lift your head, realizing he had pulled over at a truck stop next to the highway.

"What the fuck just happened?" You closed your eyes, the world felt as if it was spinning out of orbit.

"It will be ok, you were amazing"

"I will regret this tomorrow"

"I could help you with that" he said under his breath, you barely catching his words.

"What?"

"Never mind. Listen, you'll be fine, you'll join the team for the next season, and you can take this time as a well-deserved vacation"

"What are you talking about? Maybe Zak only told you that so you would stop bothering him. I can't wait until the next season. Oh my God, I need to call Christian back, if I apologize and explain that I was drunk or something he might not fire me" you said as you fumbled with your phone trying to get your shaky hands to get your calls.

"Stop, no, Y/n" In a swift move, Lando took your phone from your hand.

"Give it back! This is all your fault!"

"What?!"

"If you had stayed out of this I might have convinced Max to go back to the party and none of this had happened" You said as you almost jumped over him to get your phone back as he moved his hand around keeping you away from it.

"Oh c'mon, you wouldn't have lasted two more weeks with his annoying ass, I love Max but he's a pain" He sounded way too entertained by all this.

"Lando, stop it! Give me back my phone!"

"No, you have to calm down"

"No, give it back" you were almost kneeling over the seat.

"Y/n, stop"

"No"

"Y/n!"

"NO, GIVE IT-" Before you could finish your sentence his free hand grabbed you from your neck and pulled you toward him, his lips crashed into yours, finally getting you to stop moving. You even stopped breathing.

After a couple of seconds or hours, you weren't sure anymore, he let go of the fist he had formed around your hair and pulled back. His cheeks flushed as if he had been the one who had gotten kissed out of nowhere.

"Have I been drugged? Am I hallucinating? This has to be a weird trip"

His particular laugh sent chills down your spine.

"C'mon, it wasn't my best job but I'm not used to kissing people as they're having a panic attack, I needed you to calm down"

"And kissing me was the best you could come up with?"

"You're not thinking about your phone or Christian anymore, are you?"

"You're sick"

"Listen, I'm sorry I did it like that, ok? I stepped over a boundary and I apologize, but I know that after this you might hate me for the rest of your life and this seemed like the only moment I was going to be able to do it, so I'm sorry but not really"

"You can't go around kissing people just because"

"I didn't do it just because"

"What?"

"Y/N, I'm fucking in love with you!" He screamed.

"What?" Your voice is barely a whisper

"I'm sorry, I was dumb ok?"

"I'm not getting any of this"

"Ok, I'll explain. It took me about 2 months to fall head over heels for you, ok? You're smart, incredibly beautiful, funny, and so good at your job, it was hard not to fall in love with you. But I know I can be an asshole, so trying to stay away from you and not ruin everything I behaved like an even bigger asshole, pushing you away and into Red Bull's arms. So as an apology, I've been having talks with Zak. this has been going on for months. So no this just didn't come up, Max just made it easier for me to set the plan in motion"

You stared at his proud face in awe.

"Are you breathing?" He asked when not. single sound had left your body for a long time.

"You're in love with me?"

"Um yeah" He blushed and almost looked away but he didn't.

"For the two years we worked together, you were in love with me?"

"Yeah, basically"

"You have a shitty way of showing love"

"Sorry" he laughed under his breath

"You're nuts"

"I know" As soon as he saw you had calmed down he stretched his hand softly caressing your cheek. "I'm nuts for you"

"Ew, don't"

He laughed, the sound making you feel something new.

"I don't know"

"What?"

"What's going on"

"Maybe another kiss might help? I'm actually asking this time"

"Ok" You answered in a low whisper.

"Ok" He softly whispered as he took you by the neck, and pulled you toward him. It was a mutual kiss now, your lips dancing with his. His tongue traced your lips and they parted allowing your tongue to start a fight with his.

The kiss heated up as his other hand grabbed your hips and pulled you over him. Your ass pressed on the horn startling both of you and making you laugh, but quickly you returned to your make-out session.

His hand shily traveled down your spine and stopped over the soft satin fabric covering your ass. You knew exactly what he was trying to test, so you moved yours down his chest, feeling his racing heart, and traveled down all the way to his pants. You could feel his growing bulge and you gave it a squeeze. He moaned deeply and he gave a slap to your ass, making you moan too.

You were about to unbuckle his belt but his hand landed over yours.

"Wait, do you actually want to do this?" he asked out of breath.

"Yes" Your voice shaky from the excitement.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you or-"

"Lando, I want you to fuck me"

Your words sent an electric shock through his body, you could even feel his dick twitch under your hand.

"I'm all yours" He smiled and moved his lips to your neck, you threw your head back giving him space to explore it and its sensitive areas. He gave soft bites around it, as he stretched to the glove compartment getting a condom out of it.

"You're a manwhore"

"I was just manifesting this"

"Sure" you answered squinting your eyes.

"I promise, You can ask Oscar, I've not had sex for months"

"I don't need to know that"

"Yeah you do, I swear I wasn't going to use this with anyone else, I promise"

He was most likely lying, but you decided to believe him, at least for tonight.

"Fine" You said as you took the condom from his hand and opened it as your lips went back to his.

He helped you by pulling down his pants and his boxers enough for his throbbing cock to spring out and slap his stomach.

"Hello Mr. Norris" You said with a cheeky smile

"Don't act so surprised"

"Sorry"

He now took the hem of your dark blue dress and pulled it over your hips, softly caressing the soft flesh of your thighs and ass. He moaned at the feeling of no underwear under it.

"You're naughty"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me"

"I love it" He said and bit your lower lip as he placed you over his hard cock. You took the condom and without breaking the kiss you rolled it over his dick, enjoying the feeling of the heat and the veins that ran through it.

He couldn't wait any longer and as soon as he felt the condom in place he lifted his hips entering you in one deep thrust making you moan loudly from the incredible feeling of being so full.

"Fuck, Lando" you said as he started thrusting. A slow yet hard pace made your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he held you one hand by the neck the other one caressing your ass.

"Fuck, you're so fucking perfect" He moaned against your tits that were spilling out your dress.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing you closer to your release.

You had forgotten when was the last time you had sex, but none of your previous experiences could compare to this one. Lando being a manwhore was quite a benefit.

His hips hitting against yours at such a perfect pace was driving you crazy. He could tell by the way you were pulsing around him that you were close. This was probably a record and he was going to savor it.

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and just a couple of circles helped by how wet you were pushed you over the edge, loudly moaning his name in his ear. That sweet sound looped in his brain, making him reach his climax shortly after.

"Fuck" he finally said after you two had reached a decent breathing pace.

"Shit"

"Fourth curse word of the night"

"Shut it" You said as you pushed yourself off his chest and kissed him.

"I'm going to love having you around again"

"Me too"

"Well, Max was right about one thing" A cheeky grin on his face.

"What?"

"You're such a good fuck"

"You're a dick" You slapped his chest as he pulled you back to kiss him.

This was probably going to be a mess, but at least for a couple of months you were unemployed and free to date whoever you wanted, that included F1 drivers who would probably be off limits once your contract started, but that was a problem for your versions of the future.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,

[justatypicalwizard]

Katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight

Katsuki never believed in love at first sight. How could someone meet eyes and feel as if a thunder ruptured down from the skies and struck them? To love someone means to accept every part of them and to be able to incorporate them into your everyday life. It means building a brand new everyday with that person.

In order to do so you need to know a lot about them. Who they are, what are their plans for the future, what is their character and so on. Then you need to see if you are compatible in many spheres. You need to invite them to your friends group to see if it’ll hit off, you should try living together, they need to get to know your parents.

There are simply so many things to check off the list in order to be able to say you love someone. Otherwise it’s just empty words. I love you here and there. I love you for a week. I love you when you do as I please. Bullshit.

Mina constantly pestered Katsuki that his definition of love feels more like a chore or a job interview than like something a human would be able to accomplish. It wasn’t his fault he had some standards everyone else seemed to lack.

So even now Katsuki doesn’t like to admit that he fell in love at first sight, because it wasn’t the first time when he looked at you.

A quiet ping of his phone tore him out of his work. A new message from someone he didn’t recognise. Without much thought he opened the text.

[Hi, you may not know me but we go to the same lecture on Wednesday at 1 PM. I heard you have neat notes and wanted to ask if it wouldn’t be a problem if you send me today’s ones. I  got sick and couldn’t come and I wouldn’t want to fall behind with the material. Thanks!]

Geez, was there a longer way to type it? Couldn’t you just write: can you give me notes? On the other hand he always complained about people being douchebags.

Clicking onto your profile Katsuki saw a cheesy photo and a few posts from your daily life and vacations. Nothing much to be honest. Yet, he could vaguely remember your face around the people who entered the lecture hall. It won’t hurt to help.

[Sure]

[File attached]

Pushing his phone to the far end of his desk he went back to work. A few minutes later there was another quiet ding and this time Katsuki felt irritation bubbling inside him. It was you once again.

[Thank you so much!]

[I owe you]

[If you ever need anything feel free to write]

Whatever.

It only took a week for Katsuki to be indeed looking for help from someone. Once in a while, during his hero training, he was forced to pair up with someone in order to work on his rescue skills. Usually they’d use dummies but some fucktard in the course planning team decided that it would be most helpful if the students could train with a real human.

Normally Katsuki would ask Mina. He’d swallow his pride and force himself to listen to her babbling for two hours. Just to get it done. Unfortunately, Mina dumped him today, leaving only a [sorry, not feeling well, find someone else]. Damned flu season.

Who was he supposed to ask now, Denki?

As he scrolled down his chats, your profile pic flew by making Katsuki halt.

If you ever need anything feel free to write.

Screw it, you said it yourself, might as well find a person already and move on with his day. He typed a quick explanation and pushed the send button. The day was nearing the afternoon when you responded.

[Sure, if it’s two hours I can make it. Send me when and where I should be]

He shrugged and gave you the address for today's training.

In the early evening Katsuki found himself trotting towards his usual fighting ground absentmindedly. He was thinking about something related to work at Miruko’s when the idea flew out of his head. You were there, he could see you from afar, walking in circles in front of the main door.

Were you an idiot? It was the middle of winter and the early evening cold tore through layers of warm coats to sink into your bones. Why weren’t you entering the building to warm up a bit.

That’s why Katsuki is so stubborn about the whole love at first sight thing. It certainly wasn’t that exact moment when his heart skipped a beat because of you. You were shivering, hiding your chin and red tinted cheeks deeper into the collar of your winter coat. When you spotted him you reached out a gloved hand and waved.

“What the fuck are you doing outside, get in there or you’ll catch another cold.” He persisted, ushering you towards the entrance.

“Wow, good evening to you too.” You looked at him from under your woollen hat, surprised to get yelled at first thing you see him. Though, you did hear the upcoming pro-hero Dynamite, who went to the same lecture as you, was rather intense. “I don’t know, this place just looks fancy. Didn’t want to stand inside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“So you stood outside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“Exactly.”

He let you in and showed you around. After leaving your coat and getting a warm tea (his idea), you were ready to help with his training. The support students and university staff running around asked you to take off any unnecessary piece of clothing such as jewellery or sweaters that could get in the way. You gladly went through with their instructions.

You b-lined another student, a senior support course, who showed you the place where you’d be waiting to be rescued. The spacious arena was moulded into the shape of a city. Some buildings were fine, others rundown as if a villain attack rolled over them. There were paveways and roads, streetlamps and plastic trees. You even spotted a car, though it didn’t look like it could take off anytime soon. 

“It will look the same over and over. You sit or lie down in the place where I leave you and wait for your hero.” Your guide briefed the rules. “And every time pick out a different scenario and tie the band in the place that is put on it.” He handed you a dozen of ribbons with small notes attached to them. The first one you grabbed read: broken arm (tie around elbow).

“Sure.” You nodded your head and he left you on the second floor of a wannabe office building. There were a few chairs scattered around and a table that had a weird bite mark on it. You obediently wrapped the band around your arm and sat down on the floor, waiting.

You wondered how it’ll be, to get fake rescued. You were never in such a situation, always watching the villains from the comfort of your TV rather than first hand. What was Dynamite’s quirk? Suddenly you felt stupid for not knowing. On the other hand, you were never up to date with new heroes and all the popularity polls or colourful magazines. Guess you’d just have to wait and see.

Katsuki didn’t leave you for long. You were counting the pieces of shattered glass beneath your feet when a series of explosions passed beside the building. The small pieces you were meticulously adding shook and you let out a squeak when something heavy hit the wall behind you.

“Shut up, it's me.” Craning your neck, you saw Dynamite’s face, upside down, looking at you. He was halfway through the window. “What have you got?”

“God, you scared me.” You chuckled but quickly shut your mouth. The guide asked you to play the best victim you can. Victims shouldn’t laugh.

Dynamite hopped in front of you and crouched to read the note attached to your elbow. He mumbled something in the lines of fucking scenario and looked you straight in the eye.

“I’m gonna get you out of here.”

There wasn’t anything dramatic going on, it was even quiet outside save for a few shouts here and there. Yet, there was just something in a bulked man looking at you and promising you protection, one secured by his own arms. You felt like the guy from the firefighters video.

You couldn’t stop the giggle at the thought.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Dynamite spat.

“Nothing, nothing.” You shook your hands in front of your still laughing face. “Oh shit, this one’s supposed to be broken. Okay, just save me already.” You really fought with the snicker but the cheesiness and awkwardness of the whole situation had you in a chokehold.

“Whatever.” The hero sighed, visibly annoyed, and scooped you into his hands like a sack of potatoes. “I’ll need you to wrap your legs around me. Push the broken arm into my chest and use your healthy one to hold onto me.”

You did as instructed and glued yourself to him as tight as you could. He still held you with one of his arms and just when you started to wonder how the two of you would get down from the second floor he jumped out of the window.

A scream escaped your lips but it was muffled by a loud explosion.

For the next two hours you flew through the air in Dynamite’s hands over and over again. He held you in different ways, depending on your supposed injury, but every time you landed into the safe zone, you realised you were the first or nearly the first. That guy was quick like hell.

The last scenario rolled over and it was a panic attack. You were supposed to be physically fine but otherwise unresponsive and difficult to work with due to your shock. Dynamite tried to take extra steps to calm you down, speaking about how he’ll take you to safety and how it will all be over in a second. It looked like he was having a hard time.

“I need to touch you to take you somewhere safe.” He said, wrapping one of his hands around you.

When you were both at the safe zone, with cardboard paramedics to take care of you, Dynamite did something different. Instead of leaving you in the place where the group of injured would grow, he carried you straight to the ambulance.

“She has a panic attack.” He said to the empty fake vehicle and you just couldn’t take any more of it. You erupted in a fit of laughter. Your body shook in his hands and you gripped the X on his uniform to steady yourself. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You tried to explain but the laughter squeezed your throat. “I’m a shitty actor.”

“I see that.” Dynamite grumbled.

“Do you really need to talk to cardboard people and empty vehicles for two hours every week?” You asked, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“Is it really that fucking funny?”

“No, no! I get it.” You finally calmed down, letting go of the front of his costume. “It’s not that funny, maybe a bit but not that much. I think I’m just in a good mood.” You shrug your shoulders. “It was fun, flying with you, like a free rollercoaster ride.” You gave him a big, big smile. A big genuine smile. A big, genuine, lovely smile, with your eyes closed and teeth out and cheeks tinted pink.

People are stupid. That’s what Katsuki thinks. It’s not love at first sight. It’s love because of a single sight.

Even though Katsuki came to some fundamental conclusions in the topic of love he would get all defensive and intense when he was asked about how the two of you met. It would sound way better if he could say the two of you met, then started to talk more, then went on a date and agreed to meet each other and so on. He just felt so stupid, so awkward and silly when he had to admit that all it took for you was a single smile to make his heart skip a beat.

The worst part? It felt a little pathetic honestly, as if people never smiled at him, but truthly they didn’t, not like that. Not like you.

Katsuki still doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Yet, every other piece of his meticulously calculated equation of love was torn down and rewritten, all of which he gladly took.

[cakelitter]

Apple Of My Eye

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader (oneshot)

warnings: angst, fingering, oral (f recieve), p in v, daddy kink, makeup sex

summary: Leon and reader get into their first argument, but Leon apologizes in his own way.

words: 3.1k

a/n: i'm writing so much older Leon fics but this man lives in my head rent fucking free omg

Everything is going to shit.

Words were said, things were done, that all cut through you like a knife. This is your first actual argument, not just a simple misunderstanding or a silly disagreement. But a full-on fight.

To rewind, you and Leon were supposed to have a nice dinner date, romantic and sweet. Something the two of you haven’t had the chance to do since he’s busy all the time. You got ready, all dolled up and looking the best you’ve ever looked. You wore his favorite dress, painted your nails his favorite color, put on the kind of make up he likes. You wanted this to be special, a night to remember.

But he forgot, leaving you sitting at that table in the restaurant for an hour and 37 minutes to be exact, like an idiot. No text explaining why he was late, and wouldn’t pick up his phone either. By the time he arrived you had already downed most of the bottle of wine the two of you were supposed to share, and was feeling full from the sympathetic stares the waiter and other guests were giving you.

Worst part, he didn’t even apologize. No “Sorry baby, I had something come up at work” no nothing, just sat down, looking at you like what he did was normal. You decided to suck it up and continue on with the night. Trying to be the bigger person even though he’s twice your age and your size. Sure, you still had a bit of an attitude, some short answers, and not clawing to get closer to him like usual, but you have the right to.

Apparently not, cause he decides to get all pissy with you. Giving you glares from across the table, and in general being petty. It was clear to you, and to everyone around, that your nights wasn’t going great. You both end up leaving the restaurant after 30 minutes of his arrival, neither of you finishing the meals you ordered.

The car ride back to you shared apartment was quiet, but the tension was no joke. Instead of the normal sexual tension you both experience after these usual dates, or even just being around each other in general. There was the tension that made your heart sink and your throat tight. His eyes fixated on the road, both hands on the wheel gripping it firmly till his knuckles turned white, instead of having one in between your thighs like usual. You can’t tell who’s ignoring who, or who is more pissed at the other person more. Your mouth didn’t utter a peep, when shaky breaths and pleading words should be escaping it at this point. You hoped that once you get home, the two of you would have cooled down a bit and would talk it out like you always do.

Yet again you were wrong. As soon as you arrived back home, he slams the door behind the two of you. And starts to speak through gritted teeth.

“What he fuck was that whole fuss about?”

Turning around, you don’t know if you’re more shocked at the tone he is addressing you with or the fact that he genuinely doesn’t see what he did wrong.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that you left me there for almost two hours without explaining even why?!”

He scoffs, fucking scoffs. “What, am I supposed to give you reports on everything I do now? What I’m doing and who I’m with?”

“Leon, you can not be serious right now. All I wanted was for you to simply give me a heads up telling me that you were gonna be late.”

“Well, I was clearly busy. I’m sorry that I have a real job and responsibilities that I have to deal with.” Why is he acting like you don’t know that? like this is new information to you? In the past 2 years of your relationship, you have understood how demanding Leon’s job is, and have always been patient.

Going on missions for days and not being able to contact you. You get it, he should focus on his mission and getting home safe. Canceling plans with you last minute cause he was needed at his work. That’s fine, he can’t control it anyways.

But he always made it up for you. Taking the next day off to spend time with you, consoling you, spoiling you with gifts if he couldn’t be there physically with you. He has never gotten angry at you or talked to you in this tone before. He has never refused to apologize, and always tried to reach a solution. But now he is choosing to argue with you.

“You know how much I respect your job and how patient I am when it comes to this topic. But I can’t always brush off the feeling of neglect sometimes.”

“Well maybe you need to stop being so fucking needy.”

Ouch.

He always had loved it when you were needy though, loving the way you’d sit on his lap and shower him with kisses as he worked, loving how you needed to be close to him on the couch while watching a movie, loving the pout you do when he leaves for another mission.

You compose yourself, and start thinking of why he’s acting this way. Is he having a bad day? Did he get bad news before he came to see you?... Is he done dealing with you?

The last possibility makes your heart drop as you try to shoo that evil thought away, but it sticks like cigarette smoke on clothes.

“Are you having a bad day? Is there something bothering you?” your voice is gentle and understanding, trying to deescalate the situation. But he replies with the same harsh tone.

“Yeah, I’m tired of constantly dealing with your bullshit.”

…

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair and looking away from your face. You stand there, not knowing what to do. Feeling so stupid, just staring at him, praying he tells you that he didn’t mean that, that this was all a mistake. To pull you in his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear like he always does when you’re upset.

He was always so gentle with you, from his actions to his words. Scared to be too rough with you while play fighting as if you’re going to break. He constantly reminded you of how much you meant to him, how much he missed you on missions, and how much he couldn’t wait to be with you again. His sacred treasure, the apple of his eye, the love of his life.

But now, it all came crashing down with the venomous words he’s saying. Dropping your glass welded heart from what feels like a 13-story building, then proceeding to run over whatever survived. The burning sensation in your throat is starting to get hard to ignore, you try fight it off but to no use.

“What, are you gonna cry now like you always do?”

And that’s all it takes for tears that have been brimming in your eyes to finally break free dropping down to your cheek as your lip quivers. Yes, you are crying like you always do. Feeling so humiliated, tears blur your vision as you turn around and walk to your room shutting the door behind you.

You’re so upset. Sadness mixing with anger creating a disastrous cocktail causing your throat to burn like hell. And to make things worse, you can’t even go to the person that knows how to comfort you best, cause they are the reason why you feel like this in the same place.

Laying down on your side of the bed, tears are practically soaking your pillow. You’ve been crying for what feels like hours now and you’re sure your eyes are going to be swollen as fuck the next day. Multiple sobs, tears, and sniffles later, you fall asleep. Pass out is a better word for it actually. Only to be awaken by a knock on the bedroom door. You ignore it, and close your eyes again.

“Baby, please, let’s talk.”

You ignore again, hoping he takes the hint and leaves you alone. But he doesn’t. He opens the door slowly and looks over to your huddled figure laying on the bed. You’re clearly cold, legs tucked close to your chest, and your face nuzzled into your pillow as much as possible. He sighs, walking over to the bed, and lays down next to you with you back facing him. He stares at you for a bit, knowing that you’re not asleep, he knows your breathing a little too well. He scooches over placing an arm around you, and places a gentle kiss on top of your head.

“I’m sorry baby, I was being an asshole.” He whispers, planting another kiss.

You don’t reply, but you do open your eyes. Noticing that, he continues.

“I was just stressed from all the bullshit going on at work and… took it out on you. It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have done that.”

…

“Those hurtful things, I don’t mean them. God, I don’t mean a single word I said.”

That last sentence was all it took for you to start crying again. But this time, those arms are around to pull you in. He turns you around and places you against his chest as you let it out. An arm is behind your back rubbing up and down soothingly, while the other helps getting your hair out of your face.

“Shhh it’s okay.”

“I know sweetheart, I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

Are words he repeats in a tone juxtaposing the one he was using a couple of hours ago. This is the Leon you’re used to. Calm, and feels like home. The warmth of his body helps warm you up and the arm rubbing your back, helps ease your breathing back to normal. After a few minutes you calm down, and look up at him. He smiles kissing your forehead.

“Was Daddy mean to you earlier?” he asks and you nod.

“Want him to kiss it better?” you nod again.

He smiles softly and starts tenderly kissing your lips, your forehead, cheeks, and jaw.  Each kiss was full of affection and pure sincerity. You started sensing that warm feeling in your chest, heart beat regulating, and lips curling up into a smile as he kissed every single inch on your face. You’re not sure you quiet understand the science behind this technique and how he can manage to lift up your mood with a few kisses and his heart-warming voice. But it somehow always works.

However, can’t tell if it was the sudden change in your mood or his hot breath and soft lips on your face, but the wholesome warm feeling in your heart switched at one point, to heat pooling between your thighs. And soon enough you started being needy again.

“Daddy. Want more.” You muttered, making him stop momentarily to respond.

“Want what baby, you need to tell daddy what to do so he can help you.”

You start feeing a little shy to word it out for him. Normally he would keep you being a needy squirmy mess till you say it yourself. But he was already mean to you today, so it’s only fair to help his girl out.

“Want Daddy to kiss you somewhere else?”

“Mhm”

“Where?”

“My pussy.”

How could he say no to that face. Lips puffy, eyes glossy, and lashes wet from your tears. Humming in agreement, he places one final kiss on your lips and moves down between your thighs, spreading them open for him. You were still wearing your dress, so he was immediately greeted with the lace panties you wore for him. Running his finger up your cunt, he can already feel the dampness through the thin fabric.

“Damn baby, you wore all of this for me? God, I don’t deserve you.”

He says planting an opened mouth kiss on your clothed clit making you whine. Bunching up your dress, he grabs the hem of your panties sliding them down and shoving them in his pocket. He runs his tongue up your slit, and it feels warm as he tastes you. Spreading your cunt open with his fingers, his mouth starts sucking on your clit as shaky heavy breaths escape your mouth.

His blue eyes meet yours as he continues guzzle your pussy up while occasionally fucking his tongue into you. He laps up every single fluid that comes out, appreciating every drop. Eventually, he rewards you with one of his fingers penetrating inside of you and fucking into you at a slow pace as he pulls the hood of your clit back and continues sucking on your bundle of nerves.

Moments later he removes his mouth off of you, wanting to watch your expression as he sticks another finger into you. Your mouth opens slightly as a broken sound leaves your throat. His fingers were thick, much thicker than yours. The rough skin on them making your back arch at the sensation.

“So fucking pretty.”

You can’t tell if he’s addressing you or your dripping pussy as your eyes flutter shut when his palm makes contact with your cunt. He starts moving his digits in and out of you, mouth finding it’s way back to your clit once more. Your hips start squirming in place as he uses his other hand to hold you down in place. His digits then begin scissoring you open while his tongue flicks your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Amidst the intense feeling of pleasure, you grab his hair pulling his face towards your dripping cunt even more. Grabbing Daddy’s hair and not being gentle with it is against some of the rules the two of you have established. Leon is going above and beyond to make sure he doesn’t go bald, avoiding it like it’s the plague. Hence, pulling it, is something he would normally spank you for, fuck you roughly while pulling yours to make sure you always remember. But he’ll let it pass this time.

You start babbling, the pleasure fogging up your field of vision, and the ability to form a coherent sentence, but he knows your having a good time.

“Daddy, can I please cum?”

“Do whatever you wanna do sweetheart.” As soon as you get his permission, you reach your peak with a squeal, letting go of his hair and clutch instead on the white sheets beneath you. His fingers continue moving, easing your way back down from your high. And he eventually removes his fingers out of you, placing a final kiss on your clit before looking up at your blissed out expression.

He gets up, ready to run you a nice bath to relax, but you refuse.

“Want you.”

You say looking up at him. He smiles and replies.

“I don’t know baby. Don’t think it’s fair that you get punished for not behaving and I don’t.” You whine, a pout forming on your lips. Even though you just came, you fear that you’ll never satisfied till he’s deep inside you.

 You tug on his shirt, eyes pleading, batting your lashes at him the way you do, decreasing is chances of saying no to zero.

“It’s okay, I forgive you. Plus, that boner of yours looks pretty painful.” You retort, pointing at the way his dick is begging to be released out of his jeans.

“You sure?” You eagerly nod, and before you know it, your hands are already undoing his belt. He helps you out, taking his pants and shirt off while you strip out of your dress as well.

“How do you want me?” he asks as the two of you sit naked on the bed.

You put your finger on your chin, squinting your eyes as you think.

“On your back.”

He complies, resting his head against the pillow as you crawl over you him, placing a gentle peck on his mouth. Your legs straddle him, grabbing his dick and rubbing it up and down your leaky slit. He grits his teeth, eyes fixated at your motion before you start nudging it as your entrance.

You drop down on his length, making the two of you moan in unison as you bottom out on his dick, his hands involuntarily reaching over to grab the fat on the side of your hips. You don’t take too long to adjust thanks to his fingers warming you up earlier, and soon enough you start bouncing.

Placing a hand on his chest to balance yourself as you increase the pace while occasionally grinding your hips on his skin to get more friction on your clit. One of his hands leave your hips, making its way to your lips as you take two of his fingers into your mouth. He groans at the view in front of him.

“Fuckkk, such a good fucking girl.”

Moments later however, you start getting tired. Poor thing, doing all the work by yourself. You were always destined for princess treatment anyways.

“Getting tired?” he asks through heavy breaths, and you mindlessly nod.

Grabbing your hips once more, he plants his feet on the bed and grabs you pulling your body closer as he starts drilling into you. Your head falls back, all of that sadness you experienced before disappearing with each thrust of his hips. His dick feels amazing inside of you, hitting all of the sweet spots with each move.

The familiar sense of release starts approaching. The sound of skin slapping fills the room as you start chanting “daddy” over and over. You don’t even need anything from him, but he’s all your mind can think about.

“I’m right here, cum for me.” And you do. Your body convulses as sweet release takes over you. Leon moans from how tight your walls are gipping him. Dick throbbing inside of you as he fucks you through your release and starts chasing his. Picking up the pace even more, he feels himself getting closer and closer to his own climax.

“Where do you want it baby?” he asks through greeted teeth. You mind is complete mush at this point, completely and utterly cock drunk. “Inside please.”  Look at you, still using words like please and thank you even in this state.

He was hoping you would say that, he doubts he’ll make it in time to pull out anyways. Leon’s releases washes over his as he spurts his cum all over your walls, while crashing his lips into yours. You kiss him back, moaning as you feel so full and warm from the inside. His hips slow down and eventually reach a stop, and both of your bodies relax. Lips separating, you stare into each other’s eyes for a bit, one of his hands runs through your hair delicately, before cupping your cheek. You tilt your head, resting its weight on his palm as he strokes your face with his thumb.

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

banner by @/anitalenia

[slimmestofshady]

Bad Habits Kill You

Summary: The 90s in Detroit wasn’t exactly easy to live in with two kids and a boyfriend who redeveloped a bad habit.

Warnings: Drug Addiction, relapse, toxic relationship, abusive on both sides, accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, swearing, mention of smut, mention of drug dealing, breast feeding, robbery

6 calls, 13 text messages later and you found yourself driving home with your 3 year old daughter strapped in the carseat, livid that Marshall hadn’t picked up the phone. Working two jobs and trying to live life comfortably was becoming difficult as you felt like you were the only one here trying to keep the family afloat. This had been the fifth time this week you had to leave early and pick her up due to your boyfriend not showing up. Two write ups later with the check engine light on the car, hardly any gas in it and needing an oil change that you couldn’t afford you unbuckled her, carrying Ellie inside only to hear your newborn screaming once again.

Scoffing, you pushed open the broken screen door, the object squeaking when it was pressed back only to find Marshall’s blonde head fast asleep on the couch, a bowl of weed sitting right out on the rickety table next to Sara’s play pen.

“Mommy, why is daddy always tired? He never eats with us either.” You knew what this was, rehab hadn’t been working and it wasn’t just the sleeping pills he was taking. What were you supposed to say to her?

“Daddy’s just been very busy, why don’t you go play with your toys? Okay?” You smooched her on her delicate little head, ruffling her hair. A child at that young of age shouldn’t even have to ask those questions or ask why other kids have more than you did. Even in a relationship it felt like you were a single mother just trying to make ends meet. 

Picking up Sara from her crib you kneed him lightly in his side in irritation, causing him to moan and groan, mumbling something about being cold in the process. You kneed him again to which he turned around and shouted in his groggy state, his baby blues eyes dilated with dark circles shading his white skin.

“What?!” His temper was not in the slightest controlled, only pushing you farther past your limit of being civil or concerned for his well being.

“You were supposed to pick Ellie up, and do you hear that? That’s your other daughter crying to be taken care of which I can see you’re doing a great job at.” He clenched his jaw, folding his hands together, rubbing them. He got up, closing the distance between the both of you pointing an accusing finger directly in your face.

“I know how to be a fucking parent Y/N. Besides you’re one to talk, did Andre fuck you yet cause he been blowin up the phone all god damn day.” Taking Sara to her room, you rolled your eyes from having the same argument every fucking day while laying her in the crib, but he followed.

“At least he offers to watch the kids, more than you’ve ever fucking done! Tell me how many pills did you fucking pop today and don’t lie to me because I can see you’re clearly stoned. Fucking blanked out and shit.” You closed the door once you layed her down, refusing to argue with him in front of the kids but that didn’t mean they didn’t hear.

His hand wrapped around you arm pulling you back until you were pushed against the wall of the tiny hallway, giving you no personal space as he spat his venomous words.

The tensions was rising, only fueling your immense anger. This was the same old song and dance as every other fucking day. Why didn’t you leave? Well it’s easier said than done when you loved someone.

“I’m not fucking stoned babe I’ve been working on a new song and just fell asleep. Besides I don’t see you bringing any money so where you been if it ain’t work?” He pulled out a red piece of paper in his pocket with the words “EVICTION NOTICE”. Snatching the paper out of his hands, you noticed they only were giving you a week to pack your shit and get out due to being nearly three months behind on rent.

Scoffing you shoved the paper at his chest, trying to walk away but he didn’t let you shoving you back against the wall again.

“Marsh, don’t start your fucking shit okay?! I’ve been working my ass off but god forbid I work a full fucking shift because your ass has to be sat on this fucking couch, smoking dope and taking your fucking sleeping pills and xanax!” As he started cussing you out, you didn’t think before slapping him harshly across the face when he accused you of cheating once more based off the basis of no money coming in yet you’re always “at work.”

“What the fuck y/n! You don’t want to play this fucking game with me aight?!” Right before you could spit fire back, Ellie walked out of her room crying, causing you both to stop. She was just a child and didn’t ask or sign up for any of this. A sympathetic look of sorrow washed over Marshall and yourself the tension dwindling ever so slightly when you saw her teary, beading eyes, her cheeks reddened from the hostile situation.

With open arms, he picked her up cradling her against his chest as his hands rubbed her back gently.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. Mommy and I will stop arguing okay?” You crossed your arms, huffing from this constant fighting but seeing how quick he was when he was awake to console her, and ensure those crybaby tears stopped was heart warming. He had the potential to be such a good dad if he would just set the drugs aside but maybe that was too much to ask.

“My-my tv is gone, all-all my stuff is gone!” With frantic eyes, you both pushed open the door to see the room a wreck, and multiple items missing. Some of her blankets on her bed, her stuffed animals gone, even her piggy bank that had nearly $500 in it. It had taken over a year to save it, in hopes of starting a fund for her when she was 18, and now it was just gone. 

You couldn’t hold back the tears, feeling like everything was just crumbling down. They flowed freely down your cheeks, Marshall noticing and trying to pull you in to his side with his other arm but you waved him off, walking into the bedroom and closing the door. How much more of this could you take? There were shootings at least once a week, you were barely able to afford food, living off food stamps that barely covered shit. Whenever it seemed to be going great or a little better than before, everything would just turn to shit.

As you slumped down onto the bed, you couldn't help but notice the bathroom light still open, the shattered mirror from the night before slightly ajar.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you walked into the room with a dreadful feeling, hoping you weren't right. Taking a deep breath, you opened the object only to find the 3 pill bottles completely empty with their lids off, how much shit did he fucking take.

There was a knock at the door pulling you from your thoughts, but when you heard his voice asking if he could come in your blood boiled. When you didn't respond he pushed the door open, Sara no longer in his hands. When he saw you had found the empty bottles, he had a guilty look on his face but not remorseful.

There was a dead silence as you stood with your arms crossed shooting daggers his way.

"Tell me again that you're not fucking using. I'm not fucking stupid. How do you expect me to become closer with you when you can't even own your shit! This is getting old, and I don't know how much longer I can do this!" A switch like the atomic bomb flipped inside of him and he wasn't thinking before he pushed you on the mattress as you pounded against his chest, but you were never a match compared to his strength.

He folded his hands around the warmth of your neck, shaking you in place but not squeezing hard enough to cut off circulation.

"You don't know what it's like! Who the fuck are you to judge me huh? We're livin in this broke down piece of shit fuckin trailer, I'm tryin to fuckin write songs and start a good life for us, while you bring some dude around our fuckin kids when I'm not home, actin like you perfect, you ain't perfect either!" The tears welled in your eyes in a mix of emotions. He was right neither of you were but how did you get to this point. You had a plan, a good one, but everything kept getting taken away from you. It was like playing ring around the rosey but always falling down. You stared into his ocean eyes while sniffling when he finally released your neck.

"Fuck!" He screamed with profound irritation. You were both tired of fighting nearly every day, it was draining but the love was still there even if it was minuscule at times.

"Can you tell me truthfully I'm not being replaced by your fuckin' boss at work?" His eyes settled for a moment, just needing to know the truth.

"Marshall there is nothing there, nothing has happened. I'm just trying to find someone to watch the kids and I clearly have to even when I'm not home." A sorrowful look of hurt and guilt crossed over his face. You weren't wrong that he wasn't trustworthy to his own god damn kids and he wasn't wrong that you should've at least asked him about Andrei watching the kids. He was a private man, he didn't like strangers around the house let alone his kids.

As your breathing steadied, Marshall buried his head in the crook of your neck, allowing a singular tear to slip from his eye and land on your skin. He wanted to be better a father, a better boyfriend but it was so difficult during times like these.

"You need to get help baby..." A choked sob escaped you. You hated seeing him like this, he was better than this.

He had gone five months sober and when you noticed the signs he was using again you hadn't asked again after how irritable he was with you the first time, until today at least.

This wasn’t all on him though, the relationship issues anyway.

in his own head he felt there was no going forward, there was no escaping the impending, disastrous thoughts in his mind. The drugs soothed those intrusive thoughts, how could he lose himself inside his own head if he was asleep?

“I know, I know…” You both layed there for a moment in each others company. Neither of you calling the cops about the break in since they never seemed to actually do anything given where you lived.

“Maybe we should take the kids out for dinner or something, get Ellie’s mind off her things being gone.”

“Well how much do we got in the account?” You shook your head, sitting up and waving your hands up in the air with defeat.

“Not enough. I think altogether for the month we have around $120.” Fuck. He couldn’t do shit for his kids but somehow had enough money to get drugs? His mind twirled, the stress and realizing his priorities weren’t straight pressing an immense weight on his shoulders.

A thought crossed his mind of what if he started to sell only using every now and then? That would surely bring in money, especially around this neighborhood and keep you afloat for the time being but he didn’t say it.

He also had to worry about the kids. He refused to let them be homeless.

“Let’s take them we’ll figure it out. We aigh’t now?”

“Only if you promise me you’ll get help. I’m here to support you, okay?” Your hand caressed down his cheek as you stared into his baby blue hues, he nuzzled into your touch nodding before helping you out of bed.

Ellie was sat coloring with the crayons she still had on the living room floor wrapped in a blanket. That was another thing you were behind on, the fucking heat bill but that was a concern for another day. Luckly the electric and water seemed to still be on for the time being.

Marshall swooped her up in his arms peppering her face with loving kisses while ruffling her hair. He was always so good with her, such a caring dad and the sight made your heart melt. Moments like these made the fights seem almost pointless.

“Are you and mommy done fighting?” Her voice was so sweet and innocent, her small fist clenching and grasping at Marshall’s white shirt. The small gesture warning his heart. He just wanted his daughter to be happy.

“Yes baby. Daddy loves mommy we just have a lot going on, adult stuff you don’t need to worry about. Let’s get you and sissy some dinner, okay?” She nodded against him, perking up when he mentioned McDonald’s. It wasn’t the healthiest but it was affordable and it made her happy and that was all that mattered right now.

Passing her to you, Marshall went out to the car throwing a raggedy, old gray sweatshirt on before lighting a cigarette as he started the car. It took him about three times for the car to turn over, rickety old piece of shit, he was just grateful the heat was working for his angels. Checking the glove box, he ensured his gun was still there while a car passed by slowly, music blaring. He was skeptical of everyone and everything in this neighborhood, especially when something like today happens for the fifth time this year.

Pushing the door open, Marshall rushed to your aide to help Ellie down the stairs, avoiding the section with a nail sticking out of the wood while you carried Sara in your arms.

“Should we get gas?” You shrugged, nodding and informing him you still had work and Ellie had daycare to attend.

“How much we’re paying for that again?”

“Nearly $100 a month.” He hasn’t realized how expensive it was, scoffing and mentioning how the government expects people to live off minimum wage jobs and take care of their children.

Dinner seemed to be going smoothly, Ellie was making friends and playing in the play pin section of the restaurant while you and Marshall sat with Sara near the window in a close distance, sharing a milkshake while laughing over the memories of the past.

“Be careful sweetie!” Marshall yelled after Ellie noticing how close she was to slipping a falling off a plastic cube. She nodded to her dad, going back to her activity.

He couldn’t help but glance down at your tits, they’d gotten so big from the swelling of breast feeding. One of the things he loved that happened when you were pregnant. He bit down on his bottom lip intrigued, making a comment about how even after giving birth he still would take you right here right now over this table had their been no kids around.

Smacking him playfully with your cup, you giggled. It was about time she needed to be fed but before you could excuse yourself to the restroom, Ellie came up to have a drink break, not wasting a minute before she blurted out,

“Mommy, when is Andre coming over again? He likes to color with me and he talks about you a lot…” You we’re at a standstill for words, being left speechless by your toddler. Marshall’s jaw clenched, his hand forming a fist as he held his composure. He simply said, “Believe me now? Hows that for truth?” Ellie yanked on her dads sleeve, asking for a refill on her drink giving you the perfect way out of the situation.

“I’m going to feed Sara, I’ll be back in a couple minutes.

“Yeah, aight. You do that.” Arriving home, the car ride was mostly silent. Marshall laid Ellie down in your bed as she fell asleep in the car, too worried about her being in her own room and the same for Sara moving her crib for the night near the back corner of your room where the light wouldn’t be in her face but she’d still be close.

While you were still in the living room changing laundry, he stumbled into the back of the closet, reaching for a small box that was hidden under a flap in the carpet, popping a pill or two in his mouth, rinsing them down with water from the sink.

He closed the door lightly to not wake either of your kids, walking out into the living room and not hiding that he was not in a good mood, slouching down into the couch.

“So when the fuck did you plan on telling me that he been coming over into my fucking house with my fucking kids? You didn’t even ask me.” You sighed, knowing that resurfacing the topic if anything to with Andre would end badly, especially after the comment Ellie made.

“It was only one time babe, you were out with your friends, I was working late, Nate was out of town. I didn’t exactly have a choice. Those things Ellie said, I understand you are upset but until we can find someone else I don’t know what you expect me to do or what we’re going to do come next week.” Closing the dryer, you accompanied him on the couch, not looking for a fight but a resolution, but he loved to fight.

“I don’t want some strange, douchebag guy that wants to sleep with my girl around my kids Y/N. Plain and simple. Don’t worry about next week I’ll figure it out.” The way he ended the sentence meant there was no room for any other decisions. He wouldn’t allow it and quite frankly he was ready to choke this bitch out and arrange a little meetup in an ally to beat the shit out of him “And I don’t want a boyfriend who is high all the damn time yet here we are. Your bad habit isn’t just killing you, it’s killing us.” Yeah maybe you were right but maybe his trust issues got in the way of that cause as far as he was concerned if he saw Andre or even heard about him being here again he was gonna call up some of his buddied and make him a dead man.

This constant back and forth bullshit was getting you nowhere and frustrating the every living fuck out of him.

“I promise you I’ll go into rehab again once we get this shit figured out. But you gotta promise he ain’t coming around our kids anymore, and tell him to get rid of this fuckin number.”

“ And I will okay? No more Andre. I promise.” He nodded still not believing this guy was going to leave you alone but for now he wanted to relax, the pills already taking effect and making him drowsy he just hoped you couldn’t tell. Trying to avert attention from himself, his hands grasped your thighs pulling you into his lap and caressing your ass cheeks making you giggle.

“What’re you doing?”

“What I cant feel my girl up? C’mon the kids are asleep. We could get in a round or two.” That would be nice and a big stress relief, you could already feel his large bulge growing beneath you, causing your pussy to throb in anticipation while you rolled your hips down against him before pulling your shirt off, revealing your breasts.

“What’re you waiting for then?” You leaned in closely to his ear, lips just brushing over the bottom lobe and biting playfully.

“Fuck me.”

[akutasoda]

the fans are always right. right?

synopsis - mr reca seemed a bit more downbeat then your used too, maybe some rather interesting reviews would cheer him up

includes - reca

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 1.6k

a/n: i uhh had an idea... lost it and tried to salvage what i remembered and this was the result- anyway all the reviews used were given to me by some lovely people ( @tragedy-of-commons, @singularity-sam, @vxnuslogy, @mikashisus, @/milksnake-tea, @/tetrachrxmacy and @theother-victoria) try and guess who's who :))

a huffed sigh escaped you, slouching down in your chair as the clock ticked rhythmically in the background. mr reca was supposed to meet you around fifteen minutes ago. he'd never been late before.

a reasonable explanation would be that he had something more important to tend to. and that would be understandable. but for now you were bored out of mind and leaving wasn't an option as reca could show up at any time - he probably wouldn't be as forgiving if you were to show up after him.

today you two were meant to develop a new script and start on the storyboard for his latest idea. in honesty, you're still not quite sure how you landed this job. you wanted to start getting into directing films of your own but couldn't quite place how to start and so you settled for finding a job as a co-director.

after helping co-direct a few pieces here and there, you got a message from the esteemed mr reca. you had to do a couple (maybe even hundreds…) of checks to make sure you weren't actually dreaming. mr reca didn't exactly strike you as the kind of person to need or even want a co-director.

and yet here you were. apparently he enjoyed the sense of style you breathed into the films you helped direct and thought it would pair nicely with a couple of his. even to this day you find it hard to believe that you still had this job.

but you put your all into it. a lot of trust and expectation was placed upon you and you would be sure to not let him down. even if that meant waiting for him to show up for your appointed meetings.

twenty minutes.

you looked around the room for anything to pass the time, all you could think of was your phone laid idly on the desk. then an idea crossed your mind. reca had recently released a film. perhaps you could read some reviews to pass the time.

you never really expected yourself to be mentioned in any of them. yes you got credits and the recognition for being reca's personally selected co-director but most people still only talked about him in their reviews, which wasn't exactly a problem.

it didn't take long to find a rather reputable review page and so you began scrolling.

you should've expected the first one being a five star review

@bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "This film has changed my life. My whole outlook on everything that exists in this world, in fact even in the entire universe. I can never look at anything I know the same way ever again. This film represents emotions most humans could never comprehend. But I can. Thanks to this film I have been awakened to many things previously thought unimaginable. Thank you."

a rather extreme opinion in your eyes, reca did have some “over-the-top” fans. your became intrigued after stumbling across a one star review soon after

@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐

- "what ?"

[review has been deleted]

maybe it wasn't an actual review, but you stifle a laugh at the next review being from the same person

⭐

- "wrong movie how do i delete a review" (Edited)

perhaps this could definitely entertain you until reca arrived. you idly scrolled through the reviews, only stopping when some peaked your interest or made you smile

@seas_ablaze : ⭐⭐⭐

- "A film that does a lot of monkey business and goes bananas with it."

or alternatively,

@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "i've seen about a million movies and dear god this has to be one of the worst. an absolute slog to get through. the pacing was awful, everything took years to happen. the soundtrack was grating. the actors either put no effort in or way too much- either put them back on the street or send them back to the musical theater. the cinematography was dull at best and straight up nauseating at worst- i had to pause multiple times so i didn't get physically ill. and don't get me STARTED on the stilted script and dull characterization. and the dog isn't even a weenie."

you reckon they might have gotten the wrong film again… but it definitely explained the username-

and at that moment reca finally showed up, he pushed open the doors grumbling something - obviously whatever kept him busy wasn't pleasant. he had walked in with a huff and his expression didn't exactly read that of happiness.

you brushed it off and greeted him like you usually would, something that was greeted with another grumble which you could only guess was a hello of sorts towards you.

watching, you noted how he slumped into the chair on the other side of the desk and it became clear that he wasn't in the mood to get any work done. the silence was starting to get uncomfortable and so you slid your phone over to him, reviews still open.

reca perked one eyebrow up and questioned you “what's this about? we have duties to complete not waste time”

you hummed in response before sliding your phone closer until he picked it up “it's reviews from your latest film, it's not like we'll be getting things done soon and maybe they could help guide our planning” a small pause “they're quite entertaining”

he scrolled for a bit before stopping on one and reading it out loud

@/blink!vxnus! : ⭐⭐⭐⭐

- "film was great and very informative. it made the story far more interesting compared to other documentaries tackling the same story. - 1 because mr reca wasn't in the actual film"

“it's not very helpful, just compliments” he sighed “and wishful fans being normal”

you smiled in response before reaching over as he turned the phone to you and scrolling back up again “this one's a personal favorite, especially the comments”

@/bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "came for the reca shirtless scene, stayed for the storytelling. no regrets stan robin"

- @/ultimate_recakisser : "I mean I’d be the same as well I MEAN WHAT WHO SAID THAT Speakingofshirtlessrecaifoujdthisonefanartdoesanyonewantmetosendit?"

- @/bebe_fanpage101 : "me. dms. shhh."

- @/iwishsundaywasmywife : "id judge u both. but. im the same way abt bird man so i cant"

reca stared at the review, then the comments, before his face began morphing into something akin to the middle point of shock and disgust.

he sighed “there wasn't even a shirtless scene, these people are… enthusiastic, to be nice”

you hummed in response before suggesting that the lower rated reviews may help more and scrolled until you found some.

@/iwishsundaywasmywife : ⭐

- "Great movie. Plot flows well, characters are charismatic and overall a wonderful viewing experience. Just hate the director."

@/abardslyre : ⭐

- "my gf broke up with me for the director. mr reca count ur ******* days."

you had to hold back laughter at the sight of his face distorting into confusion and a slight grimace making the corner of his lips scowl

@/seas_ablaze : ⭐

- "This is awful, pretentious garbage. In all objective fact, he's an auteur wannabe who makes idiotic movies for the normie audiences who are too stupid to think for themselves. I didn't even watch more than five minutes of it, I just know it's bad from his name attached to it. I never made a movie before or have ever taken a film class, but even I could do better than this disgrace of an art form that only a few can ever hope to master. Hell, I would personally kill all subpar directors myself if I could, I'm just that smart. As Lord Scorsese says: Cinema is dead!"

mr reca sighed, deeply, “i can't decide if this helped or not, but im leaning no at the minute”

you definitely could say you enjoyed scrolling through the reviews more, but it wasn't hard to notice how his demeanor changed. how he wasn't so grumpy and you could've sworn that at one point you'd seen a smile on his face. your idea worked.

eventually you two managed to start discussing ideas - which was more him talking your ear off with his ideas and you listening and writing down anything he told you to. and then he paused.

before you even had the chance to question if anything was the matter, reca surprised you “maybe those reviews could help for the next film”

“what do you mean?” you couldn't believe what you were hearing, your spur of the moment idea to show him reviews to hopefully boost his mood so you could both actually talk about his next film properly worked. it actually gave him ideas.

reca prattled on about how some of the reviews gave him the idea for how to expand his latest idea that had hit a wall and now he could continue to elaborate the idea. it was sort of satisfying to see how passionate he had become despite his earlier attitude.

he then abruptly stopped before trailing off “maybe i should listen to some of those reviews and change genres”

you thought that was a rather drastic suggestion, arguing that his current genres worked perfectly fine and it was his speciality, his signature if you would. but then he started mumbling again

“maybe if we went that route… then you could…” he was trailing off, you could barely piece together his coherent sentence but you could pick up on “based on us”

“what? could you repeat that again mr reca?”

“what?”

mr reca was never easy to work with.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes

[thewidowsledger]

Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 13: Option | 6.3k

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, making out, smut, top!Natasha, Natasha has a penis, bottom!reader, cunnilingus, fingering (r receiving), arguing, cursing, hostage taking, drugging and kidnapping (I really don't wanna add this because it's a huge spoiler lol)

Author's Note: I added additional details on chapter 12 a few days ago after it was posted, so for those who have already read chapter 12, you might want to read it again because you might have read the unupdated version.

I am not a ballerina nor a professional one, I just wrote what I have researched so pls excuse my stupid mistakes here. This is not proofread and I wrote this chapter in a rush ;')) we are here to burn the slow xD and finally answer who's a lot better? Your vibrator or Natasha?

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

You began to back away, contemplating your next move and your instinctive act of kissing her. Natasha suddenly took hold of you, her sly hands slipping gently on your lower back. She then pulled you back to her, pulling you into a passionate, heated kiss. This time it's not just a lingering kiss on the cheek, not just for a fraction of a second.

The kiss grew more passionate and heated with each passing second. You found yourself moaning against Natasha's mouth, the sounds escaping your lips involuntarily.

There was an undeniable hunger and need in the way Natasha's tongue fought for dominance in your mouth, and you let her have it, giving her control as she ravaged you with her lips—almost as if she couldn't get enough of you. You could only grip her shoulders, thumbs digging into her neck creating a crescent mark in her skin.

Natasha pulled away suddenly, her lips leaving you—leaving you wanting more. You almost chased her mouth, the string of saliva connecting your lips together.

Her gaze upon you was calm and collected, but beneath the surface, you can see the hunger and the dark desire in her eyes. She looked at you as if you were her last meal and she was starving. Her gaze landed on your agape plump mouth again.

“What if you could be all those three at once?”

You looked at her, still trying to catch your breath after the hungry kiss, “What?”

“You heard me.” She husked, her mouth inch closer to yours.

“Wh—” you breathe, “What do you mean?”

She leaned in dangerously closer, her voice dropping to a more sultry tone as she responded, “Well, I suppose it's my job to make sure you don't have to resort to those two options of yours. After all, I wouldn't want you becoming someone else's trophy.”

You felt a shiver course through you as her hand traced down the curve of your back, her touch electric against your skin as she pulled you even closer that you can feel the bulge against her jeans.

“But I’ll offer you a third option,” she continued, her tongue darted out in a swift second, slowly licking her lips as if savoring the remnants you left in her mouth. “You can be all those three at once. A degree holder which you already are, and…”

“Be my personal stripper and my trophy wife.”

The offer were bold and unexpected, yet somehow, they felt right coming from her mouth.

And only a dumb person would decline that offer.

Your breath coming in sharp pants as you look up at her, your eyes captivated by her dilated pupils and parted lips.

“I…I’m a virgin, Nat…” you stuttered in a whisper, your cheeks turning red at your admission.

“That’s not what I asked of you, detka…” her piercing green eyes studying you in a way that made your heart race faster than normal. “But if you're gonna be my wife, I guess I’ll have to know that.”

“I’m gonna ask you again…” her eyes never left yours, you can feel her breath fanning over your lips.

“Can you be my personal stripper and my trophy wife?”

She actually didn't have to ask, again.

You couldn't resist anymore. You surged forward, pulling Natasha into a fierce kiss. Your lips crashed together as your tongues danced in an intimate embrace. You locked your arms around her neck as she scooped your ass up, wrapping your legs around her waist. She carried you over until you could feel the cold pole against your back.

Natasha's lips moved down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Her breath was hot against your skin as she teased you with soft nips and licks. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, making it hard for you to keep still.

She slowly lowered you back to your feet, her hands now working to unbutton your silk top.

With your top completely off, Natasha let her gaze wander down your body, taking in every curve and inch of skin. Her eyes gleamed with desire as she traced her fingers along the edge of your lace bra.

"You're so fucking beautiful, detka."

And with that, your bra is completely out of your body.

Natasha's hands were now on your breasts, caressing and kneading them as if trying to memorize every inch of your body.

“Is this okay? Detka?” She asked, eyeing you for any sign of discomfort.

“Please, Nat. Make me yours.”

And she did.

Natasha immediately leaned down, her mouth replacing her fingers on your nipple. She sucked and teased it with her tongue, causing you to arch my back with pleasure.

Her mouth was all over you, her tongue tracing a hot, wet path down your body. She moved your legs open and lowered herself between your legs that made you shudder. When she's finally kneeling down in front of you, you let her tug your silk pajamas together with your panties until they're pooling down your feet. She then brought your right leg over her shoulder.

She looked up at you with those piercing dilated green orbs before her tongue flicked against your clit.

“Oh fuck!” Both of your hands gripped her braided hair tightly from the pleasure as she continued to lap you.

Natasha pulled back from you for a moment, her lips glistening with your arousal. “You taste heavenly,” she purred, her voice husky with desire as she locked eyes with you. Her gaze was intense and full of hunger, making you tremble with need.

She brought herself back into you, moaning and sending even more pleasure through your body as she expertly brought you to the edge. This time she plunged one finger inside you with a hunger that matched your own. You can feel the rough texture of her finger through your core but it was immediately coated with your arousal.

Natasha still managed to smirk as she continued to eat you out, it's just one finger and she could feel your tightness clenching around her finger, pulling her deeper inside. That made her crave for you even more.

It has been so long since you had a vibrator inside you, but this one's not a vibrator and you would do anything to come right now.

Her tongue focused on licking and sucking your clit while her forefinger came in and out of your hole, fingering you in rhythmic thrusts that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Oh god, fuck, Natasha!” you gasped, your right hand flew to your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. She's for sure a lot better than any vibrator you had in your whole life.

Natasha's fingers moved faster and deeper, pressing against that sweet spot inside you. The wet sound of her lapping your core and her finger pushing in and out of your tight hole.

“Oh, Nat I’m gonna!”

And you finally lost all control, crying out in release as your orgasm overtook you. Your body shook and trembled, every muscle tensed as you rode out the waves of pleasure Natasha brought you.

Natasha swiftly pulled your panties and silk pajamas back in place as she stood. You were still high from pleasure and the only thing that keeps you steady is the pole behind you. Your hands are still tangled in her hair and she's now in front of you, she eyed you as she slowly licked her lips and her arousal coated finger. Despite you being high in pleasure, you didn't miss that moment and you could only bite your lip at the sight of her. Your hands moved to her cheeks and desperately pulled her into a kiss, you moaned as you tasted yourself in her mouth.

Natasha gently pulled away and took her leather jacket and let it hang it to your shoulders to cover your bare chest. She now swiftly carried you in a bridal style.

“You did so good for me, detka. So good.” she murmured in your ears, pressing a light kiss against it.

You both left the room, leaving your silk top and lacy bra behind.

⧗

“Maria, we need to tighten up the security,” Natasha said, her voice brooking no argument. “It's not secure if Yelena can just waltz in unannounced like this.”

Maria sighed, crossing her arms, “Did you two talk?”

“If by 'talk' you mean papers scattered on the floor, broken glasses, and a slightly bruised wall,” she responded casually—too casually, “then yes, we talked.”

Maria sighed once again, a sense of weary resignation in her eyes. She had grown up with Natasha, witnessing firsthand the tumultuous relationship between her and her sister. When Natasha had decided to start building her own empire, Maria had been the first one to offer her support—she was even the one who told Natasha to start her own business so she could finally get away from her family.

“There was a change of plans,” Maria confirmed to Natasha, “Is it true that you weren't able to finish the meeting that was held here earlier? Because the associates asked to move to a different location.”

Natasha already knew about this and she nodded in confirmation. It was supposed to be done but your unexpected appearance disrupted the flow of the meeting, but Natasha didn't blame you, though, because she liked the events that followed after that.

If she would have you in that position again—you gripping her hair—pushing and bucking your core down to her mouth as you try to muffle your cries while she eats you out. Hell, she would let you disrupt every meeting she’ll have.

“You good?”

Maria's voice pulled Natasha out of her reverie, and she tried to shake off the thoughts that had been preoccupying her mind just moments ago. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks as she hastily responded, “Yeah, I'm good.”

Maria just hummed but she clearly knows what's going on in the redhead's mind.

“I had Y/N’s clothes that were left in that room put in the laundry.”

Natasha swallowed a lump on her throat as Maria walked towards her, “You might wanna tie your hair back.”

Natasha's hands instinctively went to her braid, her fingers tangling in the thick strands of hair as she pulled it over her shoulder. The hair tie had already been removed, leaving her braid slightly loose in its end.

“You left this too.” She placed a plain black hair tie on her desk, you might have accidentally tugged it while you two…

“Damn, Nat I didn't know that's the purpose of the room you asked me. I thought it was a studio or something.” Maria raised a brow before heading to Natasha's office door.

“Hey! It-it is a studio!” Natasha couldn't help but feel a little defensive as Maria teased her. She tried to maintain her composure, although the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed the things that were going into her mind.

She made it for you, it is a studio, at least that's how she planned it to be.

“Sure…sure, but I wouldn't get shocked if it would turn into a sex den.” Maria teased once again, winking at her best friend before she shut the door.

“Hey! Maria! Comeback here!”

⧗

You slowly blink your eyes open, feeling the soft silk of the sheets against your skin. As you push the comforter aside, realization dawns upon you—you're not wearing anything on your top, and Natasha's jacket is lying haphazardly on the pillow beside you.

Memories of the previous night flood your mind, a cocktail of sensations and emotions. You can still feel the remnants of her touch on your skin and the scent of her perfume lingers on the jacket—on you, sending a shiver down your spine.

With wide eyes, you quickly rush towards the full-length mirror in your room. As you look at your reflection, a wave of surprise and a little bit of shock washes over you. The marks on your skin it's like a roadmap outlining Natasha's path along your body.

You carefully trace your fingers down from your neck, tracing the marks that continue down to the valley of your breasts.

“Be my personal stripper and my trophy wife.”

“Fuck…” you screw your eyes shut at the memories.

Every touch, every caress, every sensation that Natasha had brought out in you came rushing back like a tidal wave. The need for her, the aching desire for her touch, was overwhelming. You closed your eyes tightly, your body instinctively reacting to the recollections of her lips and hands on your skin.

Your eyes scan the table next to your bed, and you spot a white box adorned with red ribbons. Curiosity piqued, you reached out to the box and saw a note tucked into the lid.

“A small trophy, for my wife.”

You bite your lip to the words of Natasha's note. The thought of being marked and claimed in this way awakened a primal part of you that longs to be desired and owned by her.

As you peer inside the box, you find that it contains a single item, a beautiful pair of pink pointe shoes. Your eyes start to glisten with tears as you gently touch the shoe. This one was different, so much more exquisite and perfect compared to the one you had before. Those were cheap, thrift store finds that you had to painstakingly repair and patch up. This new shoe seemed so much... better. It looked elegant and more importantly, it looked comfortable. But you weren't sure if you could wear it; your feet were used to the pain and torture that came with the cheap shoes you usually danced in. You let another tear fall down your cheek before you put the box down and slipped onto some comfortable clothes.

⧗

You had walked to the room Natasha said she made for you, seeking solace and a place to immerse yourself in your dance. An unfamiliar music played softly in the background, a random selection that you didn't recognize but chose to dance to anyway.

As you continued to dance, you looked at the wide wall mirror eyeing your reflection, you observed your movements. The music pulsated through the room, you began to perform a series of ballet moves that you’ve learned on your own. You're a quick learner, you’ve only seen these steps at least once and you can do it neatly in a blink of an eye.

Your body moves with grace and precision. You twirled in elegant pirouettes, extending your leg and pointing your toes during tendus, gracefully arched yourself in arabesques, and leaped through the air with powerful grand jetes. You allow yourself to lose in the movement, each step and twirl flowing effortlessly, your body becoming one with the rhythm and the space around you.

Your dancing was interrupted by the sound of the door opening forcefully. You turned to see Natasha standing at the threshold, her breath labored and her shoulders tensed.

“Natasha?” you ran towards her, your heart in yout throat when you saw the blood seeping through the fabric of her shoulders. The sight stopped you in your tracks and you reached out to touch her, your fingers trembling as they traced over the wetness of the fabric.

“I’ll find Maria.” you said firmly, trying to pull your wrists free from Natasha's grip. But she tugged you back, her eyes pleading with you not to leave her. “No,” she whispered, her was voice broken and vulnerable. “Please don't go. There's a kit behind those speakers," Without a second thought, you ran towards the speakers, moving them aside to reveal a small black case. You opened it up to find bandages, gauze, and painkillers.

Natasha walked slowly towards the pole, her body aching from the injury she had sustained. She sat down heavily, resting her back against the cool metal, and let out a deep sigh of relief, “The shoe fits perfectly?” she asked as she closed her eyes.

“Y-yeah, t-thank you,” you managed to say. And Natasha just hummed but you can feel that she was smiling.

You could feel your mind racing with panic, a million thoughts swirling uncontrollably in your head. Natasha needed you and you are struggling to keep it together. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears as you ran your hands through your sweaty hair, your heart pounding in your chest.

Natasha opened her eyes and looked at you kneeling in front of her. She could see the fear in your eyes and knew that you were trying to keep it under control. She smiled softly, trying to reassure you, “Come here,” she gently took your arm and pulled you on her lap.

“This seems normal to you.” You huffed, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

It is indeed normal for Natasha to walk back from her latest business, her body covered in bruises and scratches, her clothes tattered, and a gunshot wound on her thigh—it's a lifestyle.

She tugged at the fabric of her sleeves, pulling them up to reveal a fresh cut on her arm, she was stabbed. She winced slightly as you began to clean it, her eyes focusing on you as she gently circled her thumbs on your waist.

“Does Maria know about this?” you quivered.

“No, later maybe, yeah,” rambled, groaning as she adjusted herself. Making you move slightly on her lap.

“I need to call her,” you insisted, but Natasha shook her head, digging her fingers on your waist, “No, you're gonna stay here.”

As you finished cleaning her wound, the room fell into a moment of silence. Natasha sat quietly, her gaze unfocused as she took deep breaths, trying to steady herself. You couldn't help but feel a wave of anxiety wash over you, wondering if you were doing everything right.

The silence became too much to bear, and just as you were about to break the tension, Natasha spoke up. “You scared?” she asked, her voice softer than usual. In that moment, all the worry and fear you had been holding back came pouring out.

“Of course I am!”

You harshly wiped the tears that started streaming down your face. Natasha watched you cry, a pained expression in her eyes. She felt guilty, like she was putting you through unnecessary emotional turmoil.

She moved a strand away from your face, “I don't like seeing you like this,” Natasha whispered, so softly that you almost didn't hear her. But the words were enough to make you stop you, your hands frozen in mid-air as you looked at her. Your eyes were puffy and glossy.

“Natasha,” you breathe, “I don't like seeing you like this too,” you managed to say between sobs, you softly jabbed her chest with your finger. You cannot bear to see her in pain too, her going home with wounds, bruises, stabs, gunshots and for her it's nothing? Maybe for her it is, but for you it's not. What if she comes home cold? Lifeless?

“You don't deserve this.”

Now, you huffed hearing it from her, “Taking everything back?” your face hardened into a smirk as you wiped the tears out your face and quickly moved away from her lap. Natasha furrowed her brows, confused at your question. She tried to chase you to make you stay in that position, she wanted you close to her—now you just moved away.

“So you asking me to be your personal stripper and your trophy wife was what?” Your voice trembled slightly as you voiced your thoughts, “Out of lust? To get to me? To use me?” you chuckled slightly.

“Detka, that's not what it is,” her voice cracked, she didn't want you to think that she was just using you. She never intended that.

“You wouldn't wish a life with me!”

“What if I want this, Natasha?” You asked the question before you could even think, “What if I want this? What if I want you, Natasha? What if I want to be with you?” The words tumbled out of your mouth, each one a confession that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You gulped the lump on your throat, turning your back at her as you sob uncontrollably.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed your words. She watched as you turned away from her and her instincts kicked in. Without thinking, she stood despite the pain on her shoulder. Then, she moved closer, her hands gently reaching for your waist.

At first, Natasha was taken aback when you swatted her hands away. You turned to look at her, she saw the clear view of your face—the uncertainty and pain in your eyes, followed by a flash of something else - desire? She didn't think twice as she reached for you again, pulling you closer by your elbows.

“Natasha, no,” your voice barely above a whisper. You tried to move to push her away but Natasha was determined. She pulled you closer still, your face just inches from hers now. Her eyes locked on yours.

“Y/N, don't fight me,” gently, her hands moved down to your cheek and you didn't fight back. Tears started streaming down your face again as you cling to her touch, she looked at you before closing the gap of your lips, pulling you into a searing kiss. She could taste the saltiness of your tears on her lips and it only made her want to hold you tighter, wanting to stay like this with you forever.

You managed to pull away from her and Natasha tried chasing your lips but you immediately stepped back. You stood there for a couple of seconds, waiting for her to say something, you wanted her to say something but no words came out of her mouth.

You wiped your tears away and swallowed a sob before speaking, “I…uhh, I’ll find Maria.” With that, you turned and left the room not daring to look at her because you know what's going to happen if you do.

⧗

You just found clinging to Yelena as she drives her bike away from the manor. You just called Maria to get Natasha and you went into the kitchen when Yelena approached you and proposed an idea, suggesting a ‘little escapade’ as she calls it when she saw you all vulnerable alone after your encounter with her sister. And without hesitation, you found yourself nodding in agreement. The manor had been stifling and you desperately craved a breath of fresh air.

You were easy, too easy.

Yelena stopped the bike at a nearby ice cream place, she turned to you and inquired, “So, where do you wanna go?”

Your response was a nonchalant shrug, not having any specific destination in mind. Sensing your lack of a preference, Yelena grinned. “Let's grab some ice-cream then,” she said, gesturing towards the ice-cream parlor.

Yelena immediately went straight to the counter and placed the order for both of you, not even bothering to ask what you wanted. You sat silently, patiently waiting for her to finish. It was your first time leaving the manor in what felt like forever, and you relished the opportunity to be out and about once again. But as you sat there waiting, your mind began to drift to Natasha once again. Thoughts of her started to plague your mind, you couldn't help but replay the argument in your head, recalling every word and the addicting touch of hers. You tried to make sense of what had happened and how things had spiraled out—how you spiraled out.

You want her, you want to be with her. You long to hear the simple words that she used to soothe your worries and fears, that you just have to stay and be with her and no harm will come after you. Yet, deep down, maybe you yearned for more than just those words, maybe you wanted her to say the same thing—that she wants you and she wants to be with you.

“Ice-cream for your thoughts?” Yelena waved the ice-cream cone on your face, pulling you out of your deep thoughts of her sister.

You immediately took it and walked out of the ice-cream parlor and Yelena walked after you, “How much do I owe you?” You asked.

“Why? Do you have money with you?” She asked back, huffing knowing that you have none.

“No,” you replied quietly, savoring the taste of the strawberry ice cream. “I only have a black dress, a pair of heels, and a knife,” you mumbled. “And lingerie,” you added as an afterthought.

In truth, you barely had anything that was truly your own. All you had were the clothes you had worn the night you worked at Valkyrie's and that's everything you got since ending up in Natasha's penthouse.

After finishing your ice cream, you saw a nearby library. And you made a bold request, despite your attempts to keep your facade of aloofness intact. You tried to maintain a certain distance from Yelena. Yes, you accepted her ‘little escapade’ but that doesn't mean that you had forgotten how she had treated you since the day you two met. Her harsh attitude and scathing insults still echoed in your mind and you couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment and wariness whenever you were near her. But right now, you have no time for that, you want peace and a breather.

“I want to go inside,” you said, your voice betraying a hint of pleading despite your efforts to sound indifferent. “Please.”

“You look cute when you beg.”

Irritation flared in you at Yelena's mocking tone and teasing words. You couldn't help but roll your eyes in response, you licked your thumb after you finished your ice-cream to get the small crumbs left of the cone. With doe eyes, you stared at her that caused her to almost choke at her ice-cream.

“Yeah, thanks, your sister hears it a lot,” you replied with a wink, before crossing the street towards the direction of the library leaving her behind.

“Zlyushchaya suka.” (Feisty bitch) She whispered under breath before running after you.

As you entered the library, the aroma of old books and the hush of whispered conversations enveloped you. You approached the counter and without wasting any time, you signed your name on the guest book, eager to immerse yourself in the library's collection of books. Yelena followed suit, walking over to the counter and casually scratching her name onto the page.

As you maneuvered through the library, you were drawn to a section filled with the works of Emily Dickinson. Your eyes landed on her collection, and a sense of comfort washed over you. You had a deep fondness for the poet's work, and you eagerly reached out to pick up one of her books.

Yelena, meanwhile, was casually browsing nearby. When she saw what book you had chosen, her eyes widened momentarily,

“You read Dickinson too?”

“Wild nights, wild nights, were I with thee wild nights should be, our luxury…” You lazily recited just to prove her that you do read Dickinson's works. You grabbed a book that caught your eye and walked towards the blonde, you placed it on the top of the book she's reading.

“Grumpy Monkey,” Yelena read the title to herself. Her mouth agaped slightly offended at what you did, she immediately immersed herself to look for a perfect book to give you.

Yelena approached you with a cocky smirk, slamming a book onto the table. With a hint of mockery in her tone, she asked, “You live there?” you looked at the book entitled: Bitch Planet, Volume 1: Extraordinary Machine

You flashed a book in her face, as if you're ready for this, “Mr. Author Lewis here wants to give you an advice on how to raise your I.Q.” She read the title in her mind, How to Raise Your I.Q. by Eating Gifted Children.

“Okay, that’s alarming,” Yelena pointed out, which made you giggle. She returned to look for more books and spotted a book with a hilariously controversial title. She couldn't resist the urge to call out to you in a loud whisper, waving the book in her hand. “Hey, hey!”

Eating People is Wrong you read, despite the distance between you, Yelena's infectious laughter managed to reach your ears. Her boisterous chuckle filled the library, causing a few heads to turn in your direction. You immediately shush her causing the blonde to slowly and pretend to look for a book to read.

“Games You Can Play with Your Pussy; and Lots of Other Stuff Cat Owners Should Know.” You read in disgust and you turned to look at Yelena who was sitting in front of you, her eyes watered as she fought back the tears forming in her eyes, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Terrible book title,” you remarked. She pulled another one that made you roll your eyes, did she really just collect books with controversial, alarming and terrible titles?

You sighed as you read the title again. “Still Stripping After 25 Years,” you gasped, which made Yelena slap the table, still trying not to burst into laughter. You didn't even read the blurb of the book before you judged, “They should not put this in a public library!” You whisper-shouted.

“Okay, that's enough,” you chastised her, she was sitting on her seat in an almost slouching manner and you found yourself crossing your arms across your chest as you raised a questioning brow at her but she instantly straightened up and adjusted her vest.

It feels like you're with a kid, honestly.

“I like your vest.”

Yelena’s eyes widened at your compliment, “I just absolutely love vests with lots of pockets. They're so practical, and they just have that perfect blend of style and function, you know?” she giddily rambled. You just hummed as you flipped the book you’re reading.

“It's actually Natasha’s,” the revelation made you look at her, “I took all her clothes when she left.”

“How long has it been since she left? If you don't mind me asking…” you inquired carefully, hoping that you didn't cross any line.

“18 years, papa made her manage the business with him at 16 then she left when she was 19.”

“She started that young?” Yelena just hummed, her energy immediately dropping down.

“You know, your sister loves you,” Yelena immediately eyed you after you said those words, “Even though you always come around her property with no invitations,” you chuckled as you closed the book that you had no plans on finishing reading.

She just shook her head slightly as if she's trying to focus her mind and remove thoughts in her brain.

She hates you, she reminded herself.

“Let's go out, go for a walk.” You gave her a smile and grabbed her hand, the closeness making the blonde guilty.

As you and Yelena stepped outside the library, you noticed a small box on the sidewalk, filled with six adorable puppies, each of them looking at you with curious eyes. A $20 sign hung over the box, indicating that they were for sale. Poor adorable puppies just being sold?

Yelena's phone suddenly vibrated from her pocket, causing her to break away from your grasp. She looked at you apologetically and told you that she will just get it for a second. You nodded and informed her that you will go see the puppies, you pointed the direction so she'll know where you are before you both went your separate ways.

“The delivery should be done in 15 minutes, we’ve waited for so long.”

Yelena's heart dropped as she saw the text on the small screen. Guilt and dread, that's what she feels right now. She made a huge mistake on getting too close to you, this wasn't supposed to happen, she never intended to let her guard down and warm up to you.

She hated the fact that you have no crumb of flaws in you, well yes, of course you have your own flaws but it's not enough for her to hate. She tried testing you as if she was digging the pandora's box, it's nowhere to be found. She can't find any reason to hate you.

And she hate you for that. She hates you, she did. She hated you.

Yelena's heart raced as she desperately searched for you, but you were nowhere in sight. She spotted a two black van meters away from her and panic gripped her as she frantically looked for you. But suddenly, she saw you waving at her, a small puppy cradled in your arms. She immediately ran towards your direction.

“Can we get this puppy for Natasha? You know your sister always wanted a pup—”

You were taken aback when Yelena withdrew a wad of cash from her pocket and swiftly pulled out a $100 bill. Without a moment's hesitation, she grabbed your arm and quickly yanked you away from the scene, she wasn't even able to get her change.

“I need to get you back to the manor.”

The golden retriever puppy was whining in your arms and you cooed it even though you're being dragged by the blonde.

Yelena's panic intensified as her gaze darted anxiously in different directions. She noticed the same van she saw earlier moving slowly, following closely behind the both of you. Her focus shifted to you, and she watched you coo at the puppy in your arms, blissfully unaware of the danger that was trailing behind. Yelena's heart wrenched as she realized that she had never intended for things to take this turn—with you.

Yelena fished out her motorcycle keys from her pocket. She quickly straddled the bike and turned on the ignition.

“Get in.”

Despite her brusque tone, you quickly obeyed her and swung your leg over the bike, settling in behind her. Suddenly, without any warning, she gunned the engine and the motorcycle shot forward, taking off like a rocket down the street. The small puppy in your arms gave a slight yelp, startled by the sudden movement. You instinctively cradled the furry bundle closer to your body.

“Can you drive slow?” you asked worrily as you try to balance yourself in the bike, you weren't holding anything for support just the little puppy in your arms.

As Yelena prepared to turn the corner, her eyes widened in horror as she suddenly saw a van blocking the road and she can't just maneuver around it. Yelena's heart raced, and she had no choice but to hit the brakes, bringing the motorcycle to a skidding halt. The puppy in your arms whimpered softly at the sudden stop. Yelena considered backtracking, but her hopes were dashed as she saw the van that had been pursuing you earlier was now blocking the return path as well.

“Yelena? What's happening?” You asked as you were practically being trapped by the two vans.

Yelena could only grip on the handlebars at your question, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep her composure. She didn't give an immediate answer, her gaze flickering between the van that blocked your path and the one behind, trying to figure out a way out. After a minute of contemplating, she gave up.

“Just stay here. I'm sorry.” Yelena told you, you nodded slightly as you adjusted yourself in the seat of her bike.

Why is she apologizing?

Yelena dismounted the motorcycle and slowly approached the van. The driver's door opened and a bald burly, threatening-looking man stepped out, a hardened scowl on his face.

The bald man's voice lowered into a menacing growl as he confronted Yelena. “You tryna run away from us?”

“No.”

The man's expression darkened and he took a step closer to her. “Give us the girl now,” he demanded, leaving no room for negotiation, though this is a negotiation.

In a snap Yelena seized the burly man and she held him like a shield, using him as a means to keep the others at bay. As the other men started to exit the van, their faces hardened and their hands reaching for their weapons, Yelena's eyes darted from one to the other.

“Let the girl go and I'll let this bald-headed demon man go.”

“Yelena what's happening?” You called out to her in a whimper.

“I'm sorry, Y/N. Please come here.”

You immediately obeyed her command, slowly stepping off the bike and moving closer to her. As you did so, you turned around, trying to keep an eye on the men who were approaching from behind.

As you stood behind Yelena, the weight of the situation started to sink in. Your heart pounded in your chest and fear gripped you. You clutched the puppy tightly, its small form shaking slightly in your arms. Panic coursed through your veins and you couldn't help but look around, searching for a way out or any sign of help. “Y-Yelena?” you stuttered.

“Y/N, forgive me. I promise I’ll get you back to Natash—”

She wasn't able to finish her words when she suddenly dropped to the ground, unconscious after being shot with a tranquilizer the men had fired at her. Your heart froze and you could barely comprehend what was happening.

“Yelena!” Your voice was filled with anguish as you called out to her, tears streaming down your face.

The man she has been holding captive earlier stalked towards you and yanked you by your arm. The suddenness of the grab made you release your hold on the puppy. The man's eyes roamed over your body and ripped your top, he quickly inspected your shoulders. Satisfied with what he saw, he glanced up at the other men and shouted, “This is the one!”

“Yelena!” you hollered as the man wrapped his arms around your waist and dragged you. Even in your disoriented state, your survival instincts kicked in. With all the strength you could muster, you tried to fight back against the man who was holding you.

“Fuck you!” You growled, you spat at the face of the man, he was really enraged as he wipe the spit on his face but when he poised to strike you a man intervened grasping his wrist.

“We cannot leave no marks on her,” he calmly said, a sinister smile starting to form on his face.

“Fuck you too!” You shouted, the adrenaline pumping through your veins gives you a momentary burst of courage.

He smirked at how feisty you are but he then shushed you and pressed a cloth over your nose and mouth, “You've brought us in so much trouble already, you're gonna pay for it.”

You never stopped to fight back but your limbs started to flail weakly, your attempts to kick and struggle against them proving futile.

The world blurred around you as tears streamed down your face, your voice hoarse from crying out Yelena's name once more before everything started to fade away and the last thing you saw was the small puppy nudging Yelena's unconscious body.

Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

[kazumist]

THE NAME OF LOVE .ᐟ

✩ — the three times hoshina soshiro dismissed his feelings for you as something that friends do and the one time he realized otherwise.

✩ — request: IVE BEEN WANTING TO REQ U SOMETHING FOR SO LONG NOW I HOPE U DONT MIND !! can i ask for hopeless romantic reader and hoshina soushirou.... the way he... is...... (LOVE PESSIMIST 🫵) I'm a sucker for hoshina falling first or confessing first but it is truly up to you!! i genuinely have no idea where im going with this so pls feel free to change anything to your liking

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: uhm funky pacing bc this is just pure word vom LAWLZ. wc: 3583 (i did not expect for it to be this long i swear). reader works for operations and is considered as second best to okonogi (is also okonogi's assitant). ikaruga and okonogi cameo yipee! hoshina is bad at feelings ™. reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

to love is something you cannot name.

that’s a saying that stitched itself onto your brain because it just makes sense. loving someone has way too much depth, depending on the person who is the one lending out their heart and who they are giving it out to in the first place. it could be named as anything, depicted as anything, or interpreted as anything.

especially for you, who had witnessed, watched, read, and consumed all sorts of media that named love as numerous things. sometimes love is tragic, making two people feel so much just for them to get pulled away from each other when they were so close to running into each other’s arms. sometimes love is mirthful, having two people become the best versions of themselves around the person they love because they feel safe becoming vulnerable with the other. yet sometimes love is bittersweet, accepting the art of letting go as it was for the best—accepting that things weren’t just meant to be but not forgetting the emotions the person made you feel.

well, how were you supposed to know what love really is? a hopeless romantic is hopeless for a reason.

having a day off is quite rare, even for the employees of the operations department. the work was quite demanding, as any job involving the JAKDF was. but you still made time to relax and enjoy your rest from time to time, whether that was rewatching a good old romcom film from the 2000s or reading a new romance novel you decided to pick up.

it was normal for a hopeless romantic to dream. to fantasize. that maybe they could experience an extraordinary love like it is portrayed in films or described in songs. so naturally, as a hopeless romantic yourself, you weren’t any different. you just wanted to experience love—to be loved.

then again, liking someone does count as experiencing romance in a sense. admiring someone with traits the public doesn’t really notice is… rare. but that’s how it always went with you. though you wouldn’t really say that you actually acted upon your feelings, they're usually be gone once that person has stepped out of the current environment you’re in.

that’s how it was before.

vice captain hoshina was a respectable man. he is talented, and he sure as hell knows it. as the ton put it, you and the vice captain had a strange relationship—nobody really knows what to call you two. as the secondary leader of operations and okonogi’s assistant, it was only natural to be in the presence of the vice captain most of the time. but there’s just something different when it comes to how you two treated each other.

from flirtatious remarks and confusing gestures that you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to interpret as romantic, just what were you to the vice captain? you’ve observed long enough that he only does this to you. though you don’t really hate it. in fact, you like it that he’s only like that to you—but you weren’t supposed to like him, you swear! but honestly speaking, how could you not? you had plenty of reasons to like the vice captain in that way. you just pray that no one has really noticed it.

however, okonogi wasn’t stupid. she gets praised for her analytical skills for a reason and you wish she didn’t have to use those skills when it came to your romantic interest in the vice captain of all things. she promised to keep it a secret, though, and keeping secrets is a thing okonogi was really good at (to your surprise).

— — — — — — — — 

the first time hoshina denied his feelings for you was when he overheard some rookies talking about you.

“(l/n) is such a blessing to the third division, don’t you think?” one said as the other hummed in agreement. “i know, right? they’re so nice! did you know that they helped me once? they gave me tips on what i should do to enhance my combat power for my fighting style; it was really helpful too!” the rookie beamed. hoshina had an unsettling feeling churning inside of him as he eavesdropped on the conversation. but he quickly shook it off, thinking that he probably ate something funny earlier.

but why hasn’t he received such treatment from you? you were closer to him than some rookies, right? 

right?

wait, what the hell is wrong with me? hoshina thinks, snapping out of his earlier thoughts. he was not jealous of some rookies. those were just rookies, for christ’s sake! hoshina walks away, only to be greeted by the sight of you and ikaruga talking this time.

“thanks again for the film recommendation the other day, (l/n). i didn’t expect to enjoy it so much—you were completely right! it did suit my preferences,” he excitedly says. hoshina watches silently, observing everything in detail. and one thing he notices is that ikaruga is standing close to you—way too close than he preferred.

“really? i’m glad you liked them, ikaruga. feel free to ask for more film recs when you’re free.” you laughed at his enthusiasm. ikaruga had always been a fun person to converse with, in your opinion. and you two bonded over films! but it was really nothing more than that. “will definitely do!” he replies, giving you a two finger wave as he excuses himself.

he was definitely not jealous. why would he be jealous in the first place? you two were just friends.

and friends don’t get jealous like this.

— — — — — — — — 

the second time was when he was undergoing recovery after the whole fiasco of the tachikawa base raid. everyone was exhausted. it was fortunate that the third division didn’t get any casualties during the incident; the majority of the troops were only injured for the most part. soshiro was counted among the severely injured troops but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

or so he thought.

soshiro wakes up slowly, blinking and squirting his eyes at the sudden brightness of the light above him. he felt a weight on the side of his bed when he tried to get up, as if something (or someone) was pressing down on the blanket. looking down, he wouldn’t mistake your hair for anyone else. he knew it was you with just a glance.

and there you were, sleeping softly on the side of hoshina soshiro’s bed. soshiro takes note of your appearance that he could see right now—which was really just your messy hair. he gets up, making sure that you don’t wake up. it is likely that the operation has not had much sleep up to this point, which is why you ended up sleeping in his hospital room of all places.

he feels bad. a hand slowly reaches out to your head, stroking it ever so gently. if he were to be honest, he was worried for he operations team during the attack. he recalls regularly checking in to see if things were okay on your end, and you kept reassuring him that everyone was unscathed. his other hand reaches out to his phone on his bedside, checking to see if he missed anything. he was unconscious until now, he thinks. and the text from okonogi just confirmed all of his suspicions.

you’re probably still unconscious by the time i sent this, but they’ve been there every day since you got admitted. 

that’s all the message contained. soshiro glances at you again, a soft smile tugging on his lips. he doesn’t get why okonogi felt the need to send him that text, but the thought of you waiting for him to be conscious again made him feel… warm inside. but it all went away as he pulled back his hand from your head as you stirred awake. you raised your head, adjusting yourself to be in a more comfortable position as you rubbed your eyes with your knuckles. 

shock was an understatement when you realized that he was finally awake.

“vice captain! i—sorry, i didn’t mean to sleep on your bed. wait, are you okay? does anything hurt?” he just stared at your eyes, trying to process something. shock was still present in your eyes, and relief was mixed in them too. you noticed him not answering anything you said. worried that he might be suffering from some aftereffects, you asked him again. “uhm… vice captain hoshina?”

he snaps out of it as soon as he hears his name. “sorry, i was just thinking. what were you saying?”

“er… is there something on my face? you’ve been staring at my face the whole time since i woke up…”

hoshina blinks once. twice. then thrice. before he focuses his gaze on something else, looking away from you. you held back a laugh at the sight of red tinting his ears as he apologized for his actions. 

“i’m glad you’re alright, vice captain.”

hoshina freezes. he didn’t expect those words to have a bigger impact on him than they do now. but this is all natural, isn’t it? friends worry about each other. friends wish and hope that the other is okay.

yet why does he feel bitter when he labels this as something that friends—no, snap out of it. he thinks.

“i’m glad you’re alright too.”

— — — — — — — — 

the third time was when you were sent to work to the first division of all places. he was completely against it, of course, but he doesn’t have any concrete reason to actually protest against it. 

it was quite boring to not have you there. he didn’t really have anyone to disturb anymore. and the sudden change in the vice captain’s demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by the platoon leaders. sure, he still had the same toothy grin on his lips, with his fang peeking out ever so often but deep down, you can’t really point out if it was genuine.

after all, hoshina soshiro was good at concealing his emotions and thoughts.

but then again, okonogi wasn’t stupid. it pains her to be the one who’s stuck between the vice captain and her subordinate. soshiro was the same as the night he didn’t get to neutralize kaiju no. 8 back then. shoulder slumped, arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips, and an expression that clearly stated he was pondering about something—or perhaps someone?

“you miss them, don’t you?” okonogi suddenly asks as she organizes the paperwork in front of her. working with hoshina when it came to paperwork wasn’t really new, except for this time because you would also be present in times like these. “miss who?” he decided to play dumb (or is the right term indenial?)

“please don’t make me spell it out for you, vice captain.” she replied, pushing up her glasses.

hoshina doesn’t reply, zoning out as he thinks about okonogi’s words. well, it wasn’t really false that your sudden absence had changed things in the vice captain’s usual routine. he doesn’t see you making a cup of coffee after he finishes training in the middle of the night. nor does he see you drowning yourself in research at the library when you’re not in the operations room, where soshiro would personally lend you a hand and provide his own insights on whatever you’re researching.

oh. 

oh.

he does miss you.

but that’s just normal, right? friends miss each other. and friends tend to leave sometimes but they will always come back when the time is right. however, the head of operations for the third division didn’t have to be some kind of genius to put two and two together. 

the vice captain has some sort of interest in you as well; he just hasn’t realized it himself.

— — — — — — — — 

the day you returned from the first division was the day everything went back to normal for soshiro.

it was currently a quarter after one in the morning, and he had just finished his training. he ended up going more overtime than usual, but if he hadn't, he probably would’ve missed the open door to the library at this hour. and of course, being the ever so curious man he is, he takes a peek in.

and again, there you were. but this time, you were drowning yourself again in research. your hair was a bit messy, and the eyebags doesn’t go unnoticed by him. yet in spite of that, soshiro still found your appearance to be lovely. maybe it was just the fatigue from his training, or perhaps it’s the thought of you being so determined in your work that sparked such a thought in him.

regardless of what the reason actually was, soshiro found your appearance lovely despite it all.

“you should head to bed soon.” he says, approaching the table you were currently working on. you looked up, surprised to see him awake at this hour. but you put your focus back on your work, not even giving him a second glance—which surprised the vice captain. he reads on whatever you were working on, noticing that they were mostly reports of kaiju no. 9. 

“researching on kaiju no. 9, i see. need a hand?”

“there’s just something off about him and i can’t put my finger on it. also thanks, but no thanks. i can handle this myself, vice captain.”

“it’s almost two in the morning, are you sure about that?”

he didn’t quite catch on to what your reply was, but he was positive that you just declined his offer either way. hoshina decides to pull up the chair beside you and grab the small stack of reports in front of you. he rotates the lamp a bit in his direction, but just enough to leave some light for you to read as well if you needed to.

you sigh at him. “vice captain, you really don’t have to—”

“but i want to. it’s the least i could do.”

truth be told, you really can’t bring yourself to be in the presence of the vice captain now. everything was just confusing. you were aware that the vice captain doesn’t really like paperwork in general (who even likes paperwork in the first place?) but you don’t get why he’s so insistent on helping you every time he finds you here.  

you don’t get why he likes your company so much. you considered yourself to be plain, a bit mundane for someone to actually spend some time with. especially when your interests don’t really spark any others for the most part. 

and while you may be a hopeless romantic, you weren’t foolish. even if you like the vice captain who’s currently making an effort to help you with your work, he’s just way out of your league. he’s too high to reach, and you were sure as hell that he would never actually look at you in that way. not now, not ever.

but why? why does a part of you keep saying that maybe he does? he wouldn’t do all of that if he didn’t actually look at you in that way, right? hope is a dangerous thing for someone who doesn’t know how to stop. for someone like you who refuses to give up on most occasions. it was stupid. foolish. naive.

not now, not ever would hoshina soshiro actually look at you that way.

“vice captain, please get some rest.”

“i could say the same to you.”

god, why is this man so stubborn? is he not tired from all the late night training he does? you thought, slowly getting frustrated. hoshina tells you his observations based on the reports in his hands and shares his hypothesis on the matter. he had some valid points and he’s lending a great hand at the moment. but frustration was just getting the best of you at the moment from your numerous trains of thought.

“the fact that he can adapt so easily is scary in itself. and the recent report of him breaking in the operations room in the first division states that—”

“why are you doing this?” you cut him off.

hoshina stares at you, dumbfounded at your question. he opens his mouth to answer, but no words actually come out of him. he chuckles bitterly in his mind. soshiro would like an answer to that question as well. but then it dawned on him. every flashed across his mind in seconds, and he finally realized it.

yet the result of that still scared him.

he was in love. hoshina soshiro is in love—with you nonetheless. the person he swore was just a friend. it took him quite a while to realize it, always being in denial that it was just normal for friends to act the way you two were. but he was in love. and that scared him. because what is he supposed to do when he finally realizes that you have consumed him? he never wanted this to happen, not in a million years.

but perhaps he was in love with you long before he started tripping along the lines of being friends and something more.

why are you doing this? your question echoed in his head. because i love you, he swallows back down his throat. he can’t say it. there’s no way things would work out. he could die any day and he’d rather not see you miserable because of his death. it would be better if you found someone else—but how ironic. he couldn’t really handle the thought of you being with someone else in the first place.

why are you doing this? your question echoes again. “because i love you.” he finally says, hesitant even. hesitant to know what you’re reaction was going to be. your eyes went wide at the sudden confession, and hoshina was certain that you wouldn’t believe him (well, he couldn’t really believe it either). “you’re kidding me,” you replied.

“i’m not.”

and surely enough, the look on the vice captain’s eyes said it all. he was dead serious. "i... why?” it's ten past two in the fucking morning, and you were too scared to accept that all of this was occurring right now, so you were afraid to ask. you were too scared to just randomly wake up and realize that maybe it was all a dream. too scared to believe that your feelings are being reciprocated.

“because you’re different—different to me, if that makes sense. it’s like you have this effect when it comes to me. food tastes better whenever i share a meal with you; my day just feels more peaceful whenever i get to see you’re doing fine, and i realized that maybe i haven’t actually looked at you like a friend or coworker for as long as i can remember; i was just too stupid to realize it earlier.” he avoids his gaze for a moment before looking at you again.

“i love you. i want you to look at me and love me too. we’ve come too far to turn back. i’m already too deep into you.”

you were speechless. 

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. it repeated like some sort of chant inside of your head as you processed everything. hoshina soshiro loves you back—who would’ve thought? you hadn’t realized that he was sitting so close to you. the tension was so thick, but you easily cut it down as you started with your response.

“you’re an amazing man, vice captain, and i truly cannot grasp how you could feel such feelings towards me, but i love you too.” you could see hoshina jump in his seat in shock at your confession, but you continued. “i love you in ways you have never been loved, for reasons that you may not have been told, for longer than you think you deserve and with more than you will ever know existed inside of me. yet i can’t help but still wonder… how? why? wait no, why was already answered—”

he chuckles at you. stopping you with your words. “what’s so funny?” you pouted at him. “it’s nothing. i just can’t believe that we’re seriously having this moment at two in the morning.”

“sorry, i think that may have been on my part. i kind of snapped there because i was just so… confused.”

“confused?”

“yeah, confused if we’ve crossed the line between friends or lovers without actually realizing it. crazy, right?”

hoshina moves a bit closer to you, making the distance between the two of you smaller than before. he puts his forehead against yours. “not really, but i look at you, and i just love you, and it terrifies me. it terrifies me what i would do for you. i’m in love but i’m also terrified—that’s what i think is crazy.”

“then let’s be terrified together,” you whispered to him.

a soft laugh leaves his lips this time. “i like the sound of that.” he whispers back.

he loves you.

and you love him back.

that’s all what matters.

love, in general, can make you feel all sorts of things. joy, confusion, anger, fear, and many more. it can also make you do all sorts of things. it can make you do things you never really imagined doing for or with someone in the first place. it tends to be irrational—ridiculous, even. but the thought of doing all of it for the person you care most about? you finally realized that’s simply what love is all about for you.

to love is something you truly cannot name.

[everythingisromant1c]

p1: chemistry read w/ co-star!james

co-star!james potter x actress!reader

summary: before filming can start, your director has to ofc find the perfect person to play your love interest, + what better way to do that than to have a chemistry read?

a/n: i will not pretend to know anything abt film/tv production so this is more than probably innaccurate 🙏 also this first one is not my best work but dw more drama will ensue. <33

full series - masterlist

You'd wanted this job more than anything. You'd worked harder than anyone you knew to kickstart your acting career and knew this opportunity was just the way to do it. When your agent called you about an audition for the lead role in a new show titled 'South Bay'—a drama named after the L.A. region itself—and gave you a sample of the pilot script, saying you fell in love with it wouldn't be a stretch. And after those few months later when you'd received the call that you'd gotten the part, it was safe to say you were walking on clouds for weeks afterward.

Your amazing director Minerva had cast you first and foremost, knowing your role was key to the show's success, and you'd already built a strong relationship with her after just a few weeks of knowing her.

After casting you, she'd informed you that the show's next order of business was finding someone to play your character's—Cassidy's—love interest, Aaron. When she'd told you that initially, you didn't think anything of it. But when she told you they already had gone through the first round of auditions for the role and that it was time for the infamous chemistry reads, you had to try your hardest to stay completely calm.

Aside from the fact that you'd soon be meeting the person you'd have to spend hours working with every day for God knows how many months, you also knew that the casting directors were going to be looking extra careful at the romantic chemistry you were supposed to have with the actors they brought in. You willed yourself not to get worked up when the morning came for the chemistry reads with the men auditioning for Aaron, and reminded yourself that your role in the show was already secured. Yet, for some reason, you were still on edge.

Luckily, the casting directors had narrowed down their options from the hundreds of actors who had come to audition for the role of Aaron originally to just a handful, making your job much easier. By the time noon came around, you'd already read from the script with three different candidates.

Just as you'd expected, they each had done a close-to-perfect job in their auditions. Your personal favorite was the second actor you'd read lines with, a sandy-haired guy named Remus who you thought was a really nice person as well as actor. It was important to you that the person you were going to have to pretend to be romantically interested in was a person you at least liked, and it was all too easy to imagine working with someone like Remus.

You'd expressed your thoughts to Minerva when she'd asked for them, and she nodded in agreement—a good sign—before the two casting directors beside her were calling for her attention.

"This next one, Minerva," cooed the curly-haired woman you knew as Poppy from next to her, "we think you're going to like."

"Am I?" she asked, lips curling up.

"Oh yes. When we saw him we knew right away we had to bring him in for the chemistry reading." Poppy nodded to you. "He looks promising. And he certainly has the background; his parents are Euphemia and Fleamonet Potter."

The other casting director hummed in agreement, not hiding their impressed and widened eyes. "Not to mention, he has that accent."

You had to fight your expression from turning sour. A Potter? If there was one thing you didn't appreciate in the world of acting, it was nepotism. After working so hard and starting from the ground up to get your acting career where it currently was, the last thing you wanted was to have to see your director swoon over some guy just because of who his parents were.

Nonetheless, you had faith in Minerva to pick the person who truly deserved the job. You watched her nod at the two women beside her, intrigued nonetheless. She waved a hand over to the security guard by the door in the corner of the room.

"Bring Potter in?"

The burly man nodded and exited the room briefly, and not a minute had gone by before he returned with the man you assumed was the young Potter in tow.

You subconsciously stood up straighter when you saw him, trying to push away any premeditated opinions of the man approaching. Brown curls and a genetically gifted bone structure you could see from feet away, he walked into the room confidently with reason. He immediately offered the security guard who had brought him into the room a handshake, and you watched as the tall brick wall of a man lit up with a bright smile from the gesture. Potter then rolled out more charming words of greeting to the director and casting directors, and you took the opportunity to scan him over in more detail.

With an interest you couldn't explain, you saw that he was strikingly handsome in the kind of way you'd expect the son of two celebrities to be; he was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to him flatteringly, with that sort of movie-star quality you knew audiences always swooned over. It didn't help that the moment he walked in you saw each of the directors turn to each other with raised brows and suggestive smiles that only widened when he introduced himself, charmingly posh British accent and all. You had to fight back from rolling your eyes at their reactions.

"James," greeted Poppy, standing up from her seat to give the man a handshake.

"Poppy," the man regarded, and you felt your eyebrows raise at the fact that he was already on a first-name basis with the head casting director.

She sat back down after a moment, keeping her attention on the man—James—as she spoke. "James, this is Minerva McGonagall, the Director of South Bay."

"I'm such an admirer of your work, Mrs. McGonagall. My parents took me to see your adaptation of Henry Shay's novel about three times when it first came out."

Your parents, you thought internally with some distaste; the famous actor and actress power couple. You had to stop yourself from shaking your head.

"Please, just Minerva," the director responded warmly, and you noted that she hadn't told any of the other actors to call her by her first name. "And thank you."

Poppy nodded happily before she held out an alarming hand towards you. "And let me introduce you to the wonderful actress who is going to be playing South Bay's leading lady Cassidy Ward."

You plastered on a smile and introduced yourself as plainly and confidently as you could, definitely not feeling suddenly conscious of your appearance as his warm-colored eyes raked over you.

James took that second to scan you over before realizing with a simmering feeling in the planes of his chest that there was something special about you he couldn't make out, something that had him wanting to greet you with more than a handshake. He refrained, thankfully, not saying anything after you finished introducing yourself for a second you felt was a beat too long, before scrambling to hold out a hand to you.

"I'm James. James Potter," he said as if you hadn't been already made aware of his last name. "It's an honor to get to meet you."

You didn't know why but his clear flattery only made you more uneasy of him, knowing it was something he'd probably gotten used to pulling out to impress whatever important or famous people he was busy meeting through all the connections he probably had.

You stopped yourself in your tracks; you were being unfair. You'd only known the guy, if you call it knowing him, for under a minute. Shaking off the odd feeling that was creeping its way into your stomach, you shook his held out hand with a polite nod, though that didn't the prying feeling inside you go away.

"Alright." Minerva clapped her hands together, looking between the two of you. "We're just going to do a read-through of scene number thirty-four, Episode three." She motioned towards the camera crew set up behind her, them shooting her a thumbs up.

She turned back around, looking between you and James pointedly. "Remember, your characters Cassidy and Aaron are the only two characters in the show who have known each other for longer than just a few months. They're close. That connection has to be visible, however you want to show that to us."

You didn't know why, but you felt uneasy. You nodded at Minerva regardless, seeing the supportive but anticipatory look behind her eyes as she glanced between you and the man now standing in front of you like you held the answers to all her problems.

James looked surprisingly calm and collected, like there was nothing in the world that could make the James Potter nervous. The more you looked at him and the confident set of his shoulders, the more you thought that was true.

Your director smiled. "Whenever you're both ready."

You nodded, taking a breath in before turning to James. "Where were you last night?"

You watched as James reacted to you in character, his strong brows pulling inwards. "What do you mean?"

You momentarily were taken aback by the almost effortless switch in his accent, but pushed the thought aside. "Last night. When everyone else was at Ryan's party. Where were you?"

He shrugged slightly. "I was in my dorm."

"Really? Because I knocked on your door and no one answered."

"I must've been sleeping. Why do want to know so badly?"

"I don't know, maybe because half the football team got caught last night breaking into the Dean's office."

"You don't think I did that, do you?"

You stared at him and then down at the floor. James—or Aaron, really—shook his head at you, his tone dropping. "I can't believe this."

Then he turned away from you and, as the script had told you to, you grabbed his wrist softly.

"Aaron, wait," you called, and the connection of your fingers to his arm had them tingling with a certain kind of teeming energy, though you didn't let it show on your face. "Of course I don't think you did it. I just don't know what to think. We're supposed to be best friends, yet you won't even tell me where you were."

James let a second pass before he said his next line, and it was like you could see his character's inner turmoil flickering through his mind restlessly when he said, "You want to know where I was, Cassidy?" You nodded. "I was talking with your Professor."

"Professor Brown?" you frowned. "Why?"

"I was trying to get him to let you submit your final thesis late."

"What? You know he told me I couldn't because-"

"Because of me." He paused dramatically, stern jaw working. "The only reason you missed the deadline was because you were helping me when I got too drunk to even make it up the stairs to my dorm."

"That's ... that's really nice of you, Aaron, but you know how Brown is-"

"He's letting you turn it in late for full credit."

"What?" You widened your eyes. "How did you ..."

"I told him how it was my fault you missed the deadline. And I told him about how good of a student you are, how you've never turned in anything late once, not even when we were in high school. But most importantly," he took a step closer to you to hold your hand, something you noted wasn't in the script but made your fingers flood with feeling. "I told him what a good person you were. How kind you are. Even to idiots like me who get black-out drunk during finals week."

You blinked at him, letting a smile overtake your face for a moment. "You really didn't have to."

"I did."

He squeezed your hand and, even if it was only acting, the way he was looking at you so meaningfully made something in your chest tighten excitedly. You didn't have to act when you shifted your gaze to the ground nervously. Why the hell were you nervous? "I don't know how the hell you got him to say yes."

"Well, I also have to wash his car for free for the next six months, but that's just a small detail."

You let your jaw drop. "I can't believe you'd do that for me."

"Of course I would." James took another step closer, still holding tight onto your hand and not breaking the immobilizing eye contact he'd established with you the whole while. "I'd do anything for you, Cassidy."

He nodded slowly, truly looking invested. Then, in a beat as short as a breath but one that must've felt like minutes to you as you stood there unmovingly, he leaned forward. All you could do was blink as his handsome—ugh, handsome—face neared yours before tilting itself to the right, where he left a soft but lingering kiss on your downstage cheek.

Then he pulled away again, the distance between you maybe a few inches smaller than before, before finally whispering, "Anything."

That definitely was not in the script. Your eyes blinked in an alarm that surely was no longer in character, but James looked unbothered, something you were finding was his natural state of being.

You felt your mouth go slightly dry at the intensity behind his eyes as he looked at you, but the last thing you could do was look away now, so you stayed rooted in your place in front of James as you waited for your signal to break character. Waited and waited; you felt dizzy.

"Cut!"

Minerva immediately clapped, the casting directors doing the same, and you felt like you could finally breathe as you dropped James's hand that was still holding yours and turned away from him, not sparing the man a second glance for nervous reasons you couldn't place. Maybe it was because of the fact that the feeling of his stupid lips was still lingering on your cheek.

Your director's tone was neutral when she said, "Great job, you two," though you watched as she turned passionately toward the two casting directors and they began speaking in hushed tones.

You shook your leg subtly as you waited, an antsy habit that you couldn't identify the current cause of, and you felt James lean down next to you, something that sent a nauseating feeling of déjà vu through you.

"Don't worry," he whispered lowly, taking your mannerisms as a sign of distress. He noted that even when frowning you looked extremely pretty, though at his words you left his lips your frown only deepened. "You did great."

You turned to him in confusion and some offense, trying to keep your voice hushed as you asked, "Excuse me?"

He shrugged a shoulder, eyes flicking over your figure for a split second that you definitely noticed. "You just looked tense, is all."

You stared at him blankly, not knowing what he could possibly be implying. Was he saying your acting looked tense? That you didn't look sure of yourself? Like you weren't already the lead and that he was the one auditioning? 

You fought the urge to say that maybe you looked tense because he'd just kissed you on the cheek out of nowhere, and stayed defiantly silent. When you didn't say anything back he let his lips turn up into a lopsided smile that you were sure must work on all the ladies, almost a smirk, and he nudged you in the shoulder a bit like you were old friends. Who was this guy?

Whatever you thought he meant by the statement, you didn't get to say anything back, because Minerva had pulled away from her conversation and was staring expectantly at the two of you. You did your best to soften your expression away from offended and back to neutral.

"Well," she said, turning to the man beside you. "Thank you, James, for coming in."

"Thank you," he responded, tipping his head politely. Then he took a step forward and shook each of the casting director's hands, and you watched with a foul taste in your mouth as their lips visibly fought against fond smiles.

When he turned back around, he held his hand out to you as well, and you regarded it for a moment before shaking it like you did at the start of his audition, though this time it was definitely against your will. His hand was warm and smooth, like he hadn't worked a day in his life, and you hated the fact that you even noted how it felt at all.

Like he knew you didn't enjoy his presence, he smiled at you with something knowing shining in his eyes that you hated before he took his leave, the door to the room shutting behind him.

"That was ..." began Poppy, shaking her head slowly, "Perfect. Just perfect."

You couldn't help the way your lips parted almost exhasperatedly. "Really?" You hoped you hadn't revealed your surprise in your tone.

"Yes," Minerva responded instead, also seeming to be in awe. "Wow." She gestured with her hands exuberantly. "It was like I could see the show coming to life right in front of me."

"Not to mention the chemistry between you two." Poppy tipped her head at you, smirking as she fanned herself. "I mean, wow."

You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything you'd regret. Your throat felt dry. If you heard one more 'wow' from any of their mouths in reference to James Potter again you thought you were going to lose it. You tried to keep the premonition out of your voice as you bravely asked, "So, do you think you're going to cast him?"

Minerva paused for a moment in thought before answering you. "I mean, he was the last actor we're considering for the role, and I think he was the best we've seen today." She looked between the two other casting directors who nodded agreeingly at her words. "But I'd like to know your thoughts."

You blinked at her. "My thoughts?"

"Well, yes," she answered plainly. "He's going to be playing your love interest. And I like to hear my actor's opinions."

You pursed your lips at her words, feeling flattered but also not knowing how you were feeling at the prospect of having to work with James all the time. Although, deep within you, something was nagging at you—something you absolutely did not like—and telling you your answer.

The truth was, the scene you acted out with James felt realer, had come to life more than it had with any of the other actors that day. Maybe it was because he'd taken such liberties with the role, sure, but regardless, he did a great job. The thought made you hate yourself when you finally took a breath in to speak.

"He ..." you began unsurely, and then sighed. "He was great. Really great."

"Perfect!" Minerva clapped her hands together again, and something in your stomach churned. "We'll make contact with him as soon as possible." Her eyes twinkled as she regarded you. "I can't wait to have you two leading South Bay. I have nothing but hope."

"And," Poppy added, "it'll be great for publicity having a Potter in our cast."

The two other directors at the table nodded and murmured in agreement, and you fought from sighing. You thought of the days you'd spend on set with James Potter, of all people, not only having to get along with him but connect with him, with someone who clearly thought they were above you, enough to reassure you when you had already gotten the lead role. And then you thought of what it would be like to release South Bay to the public, your first leading role, only for Potter's undeniably charming face to be the audience's main focus. It left a sour feeling in your mouth.

But it wasn't just that horrible premonition that annoyed you; you didn't know exactly what bugged you about him in particular but you knew it hadn't gone away with his formal handshake or well-practiced manners. In fact, that'd probably only worsened the feeling.

But there was nothing you could really do about it now. At least, not if you planned on keeping your job. You were a professional, you knew that. But that didn't mean it was going to be easy to maintain that title. You really did sigh then, and something rooted in your gut told you it was going to be a long year of shooting.