#oh god im going to be so bad at this. im so bad at hidden role games. this is going to be so embarrassing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unriding · 4 months ago

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very messy word dump below the cut + in tags :^) heh

okay it’s officially been a full day since reading this and i’m going to write down everything i remember feeling from day 1! and then in the tags im going to reread this (for the third time within 24 hours) and add thoughts that i didn’t put down here. SORRY FOR THE MESS & NO PRESSURE TO READ ALL THIS SJKDMF IT IS JUST A LOT OF WORD VOMIT BC IM INSANE OVER THIS FIC

okay i should start from the beginning. Wait I’ll use caps so it’s easier to read if you’re reading it bahahhaa OKAY. The way you write alpha / omega!!! It’s different from what I’m used to reading— and I mean it has a lot of a depth. The way you wrote reader being an alpha = being so protective over Aventurine fucked me up so bad /pos. Reader just wants him safe and they’re so real for that.

Going off on that, I LOVE HOW U WROTE THE READER. Understands Aventurine so well. Will literally do anything to keep him safe. Understands what sets him off and what he’s comfortable with. The part where Aventurine was talking about the next mission & reader seeing right through him ): are you serious /pos. WAIT I SKIPPED TOO FAR AHEAD. When Aventurine was trying to get reader to join the IPC? Dead. Evie DEAD. Reader saw right through him omg. Being able to notice the little changes in his scent, the way he tries to mask it etc etc. I love that so bad.

WHEN READER FOUND HIM IN HEAT FUUUCK. ARE YOU SERIOUS /pos. Fighting the urge to help him vs waiting to just make it better because reader has the power to ): I loved that so much. The struggle was so real. Literally bringing a doctor just to hear that he needs an alpha to help anyways omg. Lowkey when the doctor said that I was like PLEASE LET US HELP YOU PLEASEEEEEEE. But also. I didn’t want him to be scared either you know ):

I skipped over another scene sighs. THE part where reader said ‘I like your eyes because they’re yours” and then the end. Him saying he likes our scent because it’s ours. Are you serious /pos. Be so serious /pos.

Okay the scent gland scenes actually fucked me up so bad (I unfortunately did not dream about anything but maybe that is for the best because I’m still recovering from this scene). The part where he asks for just the wrist. Reader struggling when they FEEL HIS TEETH GRAZE THE WRIST IM GONNA EXPLODE OMFG. The immediate pulling away because we don’t want to scare him please. + the scent gland scene at the end. HE DIDN’T FEEL LIKE HE HAD TO BE ON TOP. We could lay side by side ): I was so happy that he was okay with that omg. Literally all giddy like aaaaa!!!!!! IM NOT A THREAT!! Actually that’s a lie I wasn’t giddy. I was literally in tears jejdkckckckk Aventurine 😭😭 ughhhhhhh /pos

I won’t comment on the actual scene (I am commenting on it right now actually) because I was literally so sad and my heart hurt so badly for him. I wanted him to see himself from our POV for just one moment so he can understand that we genuinely love him and treasure him & want to keep him safe. ):

ABOUT YOUR WRITING ITSELF : insanity. I will just say insanity. How should I put it in words….. just thinking about this fic again is taking all the words out of my mouth shejdjfjj (I say this as I type a 27738 page essay about it). I love how you write. I really do. Your writing style is so beautiful. I haven’t read the other tags under your fic but I’m sure many others have said the same thing!!! They word it better than me I’m sure bsjsjsjsjsk

I just love everything about it. How you add in little details (oh! Speaking of details— Aventurine’s reaction to reader cozying up to her husband in the other fic) HEJDJJDJDJ omg. But in this fic, the little signs of him being scared. Scared 24/7 actually ): I love how you conveyed his fear so much. And the way he tries so hard to hide it. HIM CRUMBLING DOWN TO HIS RAW SELF WHEN HES IN HEAT. AND THE FEAR THERE TOO. INSANE.

^^ How you wrote him so adamant about not needing help at first …. To him asking for the scent gland ….. to him agreeing to use reader. It was all so real. He didn’t just change his mind like oh okay! It took him a while to be okay with it and I love how real it all felt. You write dialogue & little details so well— it actually drives me nuts (/compliment /pos)

Oh this just reminded me. Your description of how Aventurine smells killed me /pos. And how you describe his scent as sweet. I’m really not okay /pos. It fits him so well. And … for reader…. the scent after rain ? Oh my god ???? I love that smell so much. It’s so comforting…. OMG. COMFORTING????????? BECAUSE. Oh wow. I’m really not okay now. I JUST LOVE ALL THE DETAILS LIKE THAT )))): it’s so clear you put so much thought into all these things because your fic has so much depth. I lowkey yanked out Notibility for your other Aventurine fic to highlight the parts I wanted to comment on ehdjdkkck I was annotating it like a book (I’m so sorry if this is creepy I promise I don’t do this on a regular basis. I don’t annotate fics normally. Actually please disregard this because I’m a bit red admitting this) (I just have the memory of a goldfish and can only remember feelings and not actual content) (That’s a lie because here I am remembering a lot of this fic MOST LIKELY BECAUSE I READ IT WITH MY EYES AN INCH FROM THE SCREEN PROBABLY I WAS LIKE O_O) /pos

NIGHT FLOWER: part i

Your place in the world was one of a tool. This was true of every slave: you were all things to be used. Kakavasha understood this about you, and he understood this about himself. It was how he survived all those years ago, and it’s how he survives now. And so, when Aventurine goes into his first heat in years and decides to suffer it alone, you can only think of one way to get him to accept your help: You offer to let him use you.

written for @/lorelune's spring fever collab & @ficsforgaza

13.5k words of omegaverse, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst with an eventual happy ending. gn alpha reader + omega aventurine (they each have both amab and afab genitalia). explicit piv sex, reader bottoms, the sex is consensual but emotionally complicated and deeply sad. cw slavery, racism, gendered violence, including very brief and non-graphic (but direct) references to sexual abuse during slavery. the sa and slavery are not eroticized. dead dove do not eat, mdni.

thank you to @acerathia, @minnaci, @owlespresso for all your help with beta reading and to @kosmiccarma for brainstorming omega aventurine hcs!

“I’ve alw███ l█ved ███, Ka██v█s███”

You knew it from the moment you met him.

Gaunt, pallid, weighed down by heavy chains. Irises that glowed like the auroras back in your world. Delicate features that made every passerby in the market stop to read the description on the placard. (Sigonian, it said, although you couldn’t read at the time. Avgin. Male. Omega. Sixteen years old. Sixty Tanba, no tax.) He had an all-consuming scent that was impossible to ignore—one that possessed you, made your heels dig into the dirt, every atom in your body resisting the impatient jerk of the chains at your wrist. Even through your muzzle, through the perpetual stench of carbon-steel and blood, you could smell it: honey and wildflowers. A fragrance that settled deep within you, flooded you with a warmth that felt like home.

Aventurine is not a spiritual person. He once told you this, his smile cold in the glow of an artificial moon. He'd been deeply religious as a child, but hasn’t since cared for fairy tales about fortune and fate, three-eyed goddesses or merciful rainfalls. Hasn't thought about anything like a destined love. He thinks the idea of a true mate is laughable, that no such bond could ever be forged between an omega and an alpha. That nothing so unconditional could ever exist.

You know differently, of course. You've known it from the moment you met him, from the second you laid eyes on him and thought, I need to help you, and I need to protect you, and I need you to be safe, and you’d never once heard the word ‘love’ in your life—slaves are never loved by their masters, after all, and you'd always been nothing but a slave—but every atom of your being knew that you loved him, that you'd always love him.

And when your master cradled your face that night and crooned that he owned you, that you'd always be his obedient, alpha pet—for the first time in your life, you knew that he was wrong.

You didn't belong to your slaver.

You belonged to him.

To Kakavasha.

These days, Aventurine does not smell like honey, and your jaw is not restrained.

Your muzzle was one of the first things that Aventurine threw away when he bought your freedom. According to the Amber Era system, it had been several months since the murder of your shared master. Ninety-five Star Calendar days after the Interastral Peace Corps had arrested Kakavasha. An entire rotation around the black hole at the centre of your wretched galaxy, all of which had been spent in the captivity of some new mistress. She picked you out because she liked your calming scent and the look of your face, but mostly she used you for the fighting pits just like your old master.

Aventurine had been sitting in the audience of your final match, then bought you out right after you won. “I’m in need of a fighter,” he’d said, smiling in his thick furs and jewels. He played the part of a slavemaster perfectly, his gloved hands wandering the span of your aching shoulders, touching the bloodied maw of your mask. “And I’d be willing to pay top credit for yours.”

She protested. You were her most prized possession, one of her greatest investments. Slaves from your planet were hard enough to come by—alphas capable of reproduction, nearly impossible. And you were so well-behaved, so poised, so endearing in a way that was rare for alphas. She was fond of you. Her omega slaves were fond of you too. They would be distraught if you left, and that would complicate her household affairs—and surely Aventurine, as a respectable owner of human capital like herself, could understand how inconvenient that would be?

Aventurine bared his teeth in a gracious smile. (You’d never seen Kakavasha make such an expression before—so disarming, so cunning, a crescent moon beneath snake eyes. He’d never smelt like this either, like an expensive cologne layered with bleach, and it left you feeling nauseous, wondering if he was ill.) He flirted his way into her good graces, made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, and then he brought you into the first-class ship on which he’d arrived. You were so stunned by its luxury—the handwoven carpets, the crushed velvet seats, the imported tea from several galaxies away and the custom-ordered outfit he had bought for you—that you nearly missed the tremble in his hands as he punched numbers into the remote control lock for your chains.

He had regained his composure by the time he pulled away your muzzle, though. He threw it carelessly to the ground—your titanium chains, too. Then kicked both away with his shined leather shoes.

“There,” Aventurine said, smiling cheerfully. “Much better, don’t you think?”

“Vasha—�� you started, voice thick with wasted grief, and all you wanted to was reach for him, to double check that he was real, but he placed a finger to your lips and stopped you. You stiffened at the satin touch, but he seemed unbothered.

“‘Aventurine’,” he corrected.

You stared blankly. “What?”

“‘Aventurine’. Like the gemstone. That’s my name now.”

“You—” Your voice caught in your throat. You realized that you’d been holding your breath. You always had the habit of holding your breath in the luxurious, private rooms of very rich men, because you never liked what happened in them. Forcing yourself to breathe, you asked, “You gave yourself a new name?”

“No. The IPC gave me a new name. They gave me a job, too.”

“A job?” you asked, voice faint. Now that you were breathing again, you were noticing once more just how bizarre he smelled. Sterile and expensive and completely foreign. “You’re free now?”

“Well, I’m a freedman, but I don’t know if I’d call myself free. I’m a bit… indebted to the IPC, let’s say. But that’s fine. I can’t complain. I mean—look around. This beats the fighting pits, doesn’t it?” He gestured lazily at your surroundings, and you nodded.

“It’s nice here,” you replied, feeling absurd but not knowing what else to say. Once Kakavasha got talking, it was impossible to get a word in edgewise.

“You like it here? Good. This room’s yours. Mine is the next one over. You’ll live and work here, with me. I’ll make sure you’re paid well. Full benefits, vacation, salary, and overtime. The standard pay for your role is seventy-thousand credits per month, but I’ll see if I can get you more. HR is pretty strict about their hiring policies, but—”

“You’re hiring me?”

Aventurine went very still, his smile tightly controlled. His eyes remained fixed on you, but they seemed less snake-like, now. They looked more familiar. More afraid.

“I’m offering, yes,” he said neatly. “You’ll be part of my personal security detail. I don’t have the contract for you to review yet, unfortunately. I didn’t arrange one ahead of time because, well”—he laughed, as if this were polite conversation and he were making a joke about the weather—“I didn’t know if I’d find you alive. But things worked out in my favour. They always work out in my favour. I’ll make sure they’ll work out in your favour too, so long as you’re with me. So you’ll consider it, won’t you? Staying with—working for me, I mean.”

Your eyes went soft. Beneath the artificial fragrance, you finally caught a hint of his familiar scent—more wildflower than honey at that moment, the way it always is when he’s scared.

“Kakavasha—”

“Name your price,” he said loudly, “and I’ll match it.”

You sighed. “Vasha,” you said more gently, and his shoulders relaxed at the subvocal shift in your timbre, at the famed alpha Voice that necessitated your muzzle, “I don’t care about the money. Of course I’ll stay here. But—what happened? Why did you kill him yourself? Why didn't you let me do it? That was the plan. It was always supposed to be me.”

It was my job, you thought then, just as you had thought to yourself every night, curled up in your bed and trying to recall the scent of fresh honey, to keep you safe.

He shrugged and said, “It would have been too risky to involve you.”

“You were caught and sentenced to death. The risk was already too high.”

“But the stakes weren’t,” he replied simply, and before you could ask what he meant by that, he continued, “and it worked out, didn’t it? I work for the IPC. You work for me. We’re freedmen now. Whatever I've lost, it doesn't matter. Our gains far outweigh it.”

“And what have you lost, Vasha?”

He smiled at you, charming and distracting. A crescent moon beneath snake eyes. “Nothing of value,” he reassured you, and even though you could feel the calm of an omega’s voice washing over you, even though it released all the tension in your body, all you could smell was cologne and wildflowers, and you knew that he was lying.

Vasha once told you, curled up and quiet on the basement floor, that he despised his eyes. They were supposed to be a sign of blessing from Gaiathra Triclops, but they'd never brought him anything but trouble. They were the first thing that the slavers always noticed about him, the feature that made him such an alluring commodity. Their aurora glow, their strange beauty, their promise of a rare opportunity: a chance at owning a specimen of an exotic, endangered species, possibly the last of its kind. These are all things that you've heard in the parlour of your master’s house as he entertained rich company, the crowd of them gawking at his human curios.

Avgin are said to make the most beautiful slaves, he'd often say. And Avgin omegas are said to be the most beautiful among them. What do you all think? They'd all hum, peering closely at Kakavasha’s features, and inevitably someone would joke, I think I'd like to borrow him sometime, and then they would all laugh while your pulse ticked up and you imagined tearing at their throats. Vasha would search for your gaze in these moments, giving you a long, pointed look: Don't do anything stupid.

He’d always been so blasé about it, the way people fixated on his Avgin blood. You'll never understand how. He didn't react to any of the comments, the groping, the innuendos. He was, however, distinctly unimpressed at the way that your master liked to play him up as a rare and expensive acquisition, as a sign of his own status. It's embarrassing to watch, Kakavasha had remarked. Everyone knows that Sigonian slaves are uncommon but cheap—people always think we’ll bring them more trouble than our worth. This was how Kakavasha had ended up in the market in the first place: because his last master had been robbed, and he'd been wrongly blamed for it.

The blame, to this day, has never stopped. People—powerful people, politicians, businessmen, socialites—look at Aventurine’s eyes and immediately reach for their pockets. You've seen it for yourself, these spineless despots and scammers feeling for their wallets. Sigonian, you know they're thinking. Liar, cheat, thief, whore, worthless, worthless, worthless. Your hands tighten around your blade each time, a loaded gun with a finger on the trigger.

Alphas are said to be violent by nature. Aventurine has often called you the one exception to this rule: the most docile, good-hearted alpha he's ever met. But this is a lie. You do have a predator instinct, and it comes out in full-force whenever you’re around these particular types of men. These types who notice Aventurine’s eyes and see a thief; these monsters who see his irises and imagine what it would be like to bed him. You’d kill them if you could. It would be so easy, especially now that you are an IPC dog. The Company is already such a violent force; what would be one more murder?

But Aventurine has never ordered you to punish anyone. (Don't do anything stupid, he always tells you with a glance, smiling through every humiliation.) Nor has he ever seemed bothered enough by these meetings to try concealing his heritage.

A fellow Asset Liquidation Specialist once asked why he didn't just hide his eye colour—it would likely be better for fostering relationships, negotiating deals—but Aventurine had shrugged it off. I'm a gambler working with the IPC, he'd said. Do you really think a pair of coloured contacts would make anyone trust me? He'd laughed, and his voice had carried a threatening edge, and his coworker had shifted visibly at it. Being an Avgin is the least threatening thing about me, wouldn't you say?

You think that Aventurine likes being seen as a threat. Sometimes you wonder if this is why he doesn't mind wearing his eyes so much, but abhors keeping his scent. He washes his clothes until they're free of his disarming sweetness and then masks himself with an unsettling blend of ambergris, jasmine, and wood. And he is on suppressants all the time—hasn’t had a single heat since the day he killed his master. Hasn't smelled like himself, either.

At the end of the day, it’s manageable being an Avgin in this business, he often comments, spraying half a bottle of masking cologne on himself, but you can't be an Avgin and an omega. Wouldn’t you agree?

You'd know better than me, you reply, noncommittally—and truthfully.

But you're an alpha, he observes. Don't you have an opinion?

You don't pay me to have opinions, you always remind him, stone-faced. You pay me to stand here and look scary. And Aventurine always laughs at this, and he always wires you money and calls it a bonus as he pesters you for an answer, and he always gets distracted and starts scrolling through all his shopping wishlists instead. I saw this thing the other day and thought of you. And this too. Would you like either of them? Would you like them both? I’m a very generous manager, you know. I'll buy you anything you like.

But even though he always gets distracted, Aventurine never forgets. Sooner or later, he inevitably circles back to these questions—these anxieties about his scent, about his eyes, about his blood. He never cares for anyone else’s opinions, but he's always been curious about yours. Even when he was Vasha, he wanted to know what you thought.

He’d been sixteen years old and delirious with heat the first time he asked you, face wrinkling with pain as he spilled his thoughts. It was so incoherent, so sad, you thought it must have been about a fever dream. Mama Fenge, he kept saying. Mama Fenge blessed me, She blessed me, I'm blessed, it rained when I was born—did you know that? My luck, I was lucky. The Katicans, they never caught me. They got everyone else, but not me. I was blessed by Her. I'm going to save my people. I will. I'll save my sister. My eyes are proof. My mistress liked them. Said they're beautiful. Worth sixty whole coppers. A blessing. He pulled you close, pressed his scalding face to your scent gland, and his whole body shuddered with relief. This was the first and only time he'd allowed you to hold him, and it was only out of desperation, out of his mind. Do you like them, alpha? Do you like my eyes? Why? Is it because they're beautiful? Because they're from Gaiathra?

“I like them because they're yours,” you'd replied, and Kakavasha had laughed deliriously.

This is when he told you he hated them: I'd close them forever, if I could.

When you were younger—dumber—you had a habit of squirrelling away every spare coin you came across. You collected them in a little purse that one of the omega slaves had sewn for you—a thank-you for always keeping the other alphas away from her—and you hid it underneath a loose floorboard. By the time that Kakavasha was arrested, you'd saved up twenty-nine Tanba. You’d wanted enough to buy Kakavasha’s freedom and then to set him up for a comfortable life.

It had been a stupid plan. An embarrassing one. If you ever confessed it to Aventurine, he'd laugh at you. Slaves can't buy other slaves, he'd say. Leave the schemes to me next time. You’re too good-hearted for it.

You’d already known that, of course. You knew that you didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him, but you wanted to. God, did you want to—you spent every waking moment thinking about it, every sleeping moment dreaming of it. It wasn't even that you desired him, though he was beautiful and fragrant and more delicate than anything that had ever touched you in your life, which was only your master’s hands and your muzzle and your chains. Aventurine would feel so soft in comparison, you’d always figured. It made your heart ache, thinking about getting to hold something so lovely.

But really—that desire came second. What came first was how mated omegas feel safe around their alphas, and you so desperately wanted him to be safe. Kakavasha had looked so frail, so grim, as your master took his chains and led him home from the market, and you could smell the fear coming off him in waves. And you could do nothing to stop it. You had nothing you could use to stop it—nothing other than your hands that could kill for him and your pheromones that could soothe him and your useless heart that wanted to collect sixty Tanba for him. That was all you had.

So you failed in the end. Of course you did. You didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him. You couldn't even do for him the one thing you could have done—which was to kill. And Kakavasha suffered for your incompetence. He had to dirty his hands with blood and gamble his way into wealth and then suddenly he was freeing you, not the other way around.

And now you are comfortable. You'll lead an easy life from now, Aventurine reassured you when he brought you onto his ship all those years ago, and he's kept that promise. What about you? you'd asked him then. Will you lead an easy life with me, if you're working for the IPC? And he had smiled and lied to you: Yes.

It had been a painfully obvious lie. If you were a smarter person, you'd have never believed it in the first place. Aventurine has no interest in leading an easy life, because an easy life would be less profitable, and less profit would mean less safety. And he is always, always worried about being unsafe. It is indiscernible to everyone but you—an alpha (his alpha, always his, even if he doesn't want you) who has watched over him for so long that you can detect every shift in his scent. No matter how much cologne he drowns himself in and no matter how strong his suppressants are, you know when he is afraid.

And here is the bitter truth, the ultimate proof of your shortcomings:

Aventurine is always afraid.

It is a beautiful day on Agnisahr, and you can tell that Aventurine is about to throw up from worry.

You're sitting in the middle of stunning wealth—Aventurine in his feathers and jewellery, you in your tailored jacket—in a lobby made from marble and pale sandstone, with a view of palm trees and rolling, scarlet sand dunes beyond the window. The waitstaff addresses him as Honoured Guest and they keep his crystal chalice filled constantly with water—one of the most expensive commodities on the planet. Aventurine has been drinking from it religiously, which is strange as he typically has the habit of forgetting to hydrate. A faint wildflower scent is drifting from his slender form. These are the only giveaway to his mood: he's otherwise as pokerfaced as ever, smiling calmly as he discusses his plans to sabotage the local government and acquire the planet for the IPC.

“This is a very dangerous mission,” you state flatly.

“All my missions are dangerous.” He takes a sip, one pinky up. “The IPC pays me well for a reason. As they say—”

“‘High risk, high reward.’ I know.” You try not to sound bitter, though you allow yourself to sound tired. “I still do not think the risk is worth the reward in this case.”

“I think over 5.6 million in credits is a great reward, actually. We could do a lot with that kind of money.”

You raise a brow. “What could an extra 5.6 million get you that you can't already buy?” It is—as Topaz would say—‘chump change’ in comparison to his current wealth, which sums to a number so vast that you can't wrap your head around it.

Aventurine pretends to miss the point. “Tons! We could buy a new spacecraft. Get another mansion. Or—we could take a vacation to Penacony. I hear it's quite nice there.” A playful smile. “I could get us a penthouse unit. With a featherbed.”

You frown. Sometimes Aventurine likes to flirt when you're being stubborn—not out of interest, but as a ploy to distract you. He’d developed the habit after he joined the IPC. It used to fluster you, but now it only makes you cross your arms.

“You could die,” you point out.

“You'll protect me.”

“No, I won't. You always find a way to get rid of me when things are most dangerous.” You give him an accusatory stare. “You never let me do my job.”

He's too shameless to deny it. “And it's worked out fine, hasn't it? I haven't died so far.”

“Yes. Just by dumb luck.”

“I beg to differ. My luck is quite reliable.” He sets down his glass. Glances back outside. A microexpression, brows knotting for the briefest second as he studies the sky. “I'm not worried.”

“You're a shit liar.”

That gets him to look at you, letting a small frown pass over his face. “No, I'm actually a great liar. You're just too good at reading me. It's very inconvenient, you know.”

“I can't help it.” You lean toward him, making a show of it as you sniff. An orchid-like scent—faint but unmistakable—has seeped into artificial ambergris and wood. “It's hard to ignore.”

He hums. He isn't frowning anymore—but doesn't look happy, either. “I should change suppressants.” He taps the side of his empty glass, fidgeting. Aventurine never fidgets: it's an amateur giveaway. “These ones clearly don't work well enough.”

“That won't help. I know you too well.” Your eyes soften. He's looking outside again, the blues of his irises distant. “You're worried, Aventurine. More than usual. Let’s back out of this—let Jade handle it.”

“The mission isn't what's bothering me,” he says patiently. “I just don't like this planet.”

“Because you can tell it's dangerous.”

“No. Well—it is, but nothing I can't handle.” He leans back. “I just dislike the weather here.”

You arch a brow. “...the weather?”

“Yes,” he says neatly, “it's too dry here. I'll break out.”

You open your mouth. Close it. It is possibly the most absurd thing you've ever heard, and certainly the worst lie that's ever come from him. For as long as you've known him, Aventurine has had flawless skin, marble-smooth, and ever since being freed, he’s never really cared much for looking handsome so much as looking rich. But he maintains his serious expression: all-in on the farce. “Did you know that outside the capital, this planet hasn't had any natural rain in a quarter of an Amber Era? And the stellar winds are terrible. I don't know how people live on a planet like this.” His eyes narrow at the cloudless sky. “The IPC is going to need to do a lot of terraforming if they want to make this into a merchant hub.”

“Aventurine.”

“It'll be a pain crossing the desert—the elements will ruin my clothes, you know,” he continues. “It won't be so bad while we're on the ships, but we’ve got to go outside from time to time. Can't make any friends otherwise.”

“Aventurine.”

“And there's nothing to do for fun when we’re not working.” He sighs dramatically. “I can't wait to get our 5.6 billion and leave for someplace else. I'm being serious about Penacony, by the way—”

“Aventurine.”

“—though not about the featherbed. I'll get you your own room, obviously. And I'll buy whatever dream experience you’d like. What kind would you want?”

Finally allowed a chance to speak, you say, “One where you retire.”

“Retire? Why would I ever do that?”

“I don't know. Maybe you decide you've made enough money.”

“No such thing.”

“Then you can settle down with someone.”

That makes him smile. It feels mocking. “Me? Settling down? With who?”

“Who knows. Someone who will treat you better than the IPC, I hope.”

“Anyone that nice would run in the other direction. But never mind me. This would be your dream experience. What happens to you in it?”

“I stop chasing after you and get to live out the rest of my days in peace,” you say dryly, and Aventurine blinks. “Please stop deflecting. The IPC gave you a suicide mission. We will both die if we stay here.”

He looks serious now. “I wouldn't let you die.”

“You can't know that.”

“Well, I do. And I've got decent chances at surviving too—at least one in ten.”

You feel like sighing—a deep, aggravated noise is heavy in your throat—but Aventurine doesn't enjoy it when you show anger around him. It's the one omega instinct that he can't ignore, you suppose: unease around an aggressive alpha. Voice tightly controlled, you say, “You’re going to bet your life on one in ten?”

“Sure. My chances were worse on the last planet, and things worked out great. It'll be the same on Agnisahr.” Aventurine raises a hand, calls for the bill. The conversation is over. You lean back in your seat, watching sourly as he pays tens of thousands of credits just for water.

“You know, they say the royal family is backed by an Aeon,” you can't help but point out, once the waiter is gone. A last-ditch effort. Aventurine smiles at it, amused. Like you're a child.

“So what?” He glances outside, at the desolate landscape beyond the oasis—nothing but red sand, a blue, rainless sky, and two radiant suns shining above it all. “The protection of a god is nothing compared to the schemes of human beings. And gods abandon their people all the time, anyway.”

During your tenth day on Agnisahr, you realise that something is deeply wrong.

It takes you some time to understand what’s happening. At first you think that whatever political danger you’ve intuited is much worse than you thought, and that’s why Aventurine has been so pale, so discomforted, so exhausted. Then his scent starts changing—he switches clothes two, three times a day (because of all this heat during Agnisahran days, he tells his new business associates) and spritzes his nape with his cologne almost religiously—and you wonder if he is sick with something. If the food in this planet has something that disagrees with his Sigonian biology, or if he has picked up one of the local filoviruses, or if someone’s poisoned one of his meals because they’ve correctly identified him as a threat. Aventurine dismisses every single one of these theories when you bring it up, and—as if in denial—only attributes it to the weather. (I’ve never done well in deserts, he tells you, his eyes on his phone screen. I'm not used to them. It is above 300 Kelvin, and you do not see a single bead of sweat on his neck, and his cheeks are not even a little flushed.)

You only figure it out when he is too ill to get out of bed one morning and forbids all the IPC staff from coming near his hotel room. It sets off alarms immediately—Aventurine, no matter how sick, will work and see through meetings as long as he is mentally capable of it—and so you naturally ignore his orders and check on him, using the spare key to his sleeping quarters that you're given as a policy. And as soon as the door cracks open—as soon as you step inside only to be hit with a violent, cloying sweetness—you realise what’s happening and slam the door shut behind you.

“You’re in heat,” you blurt out, and Aventurine—a shivering, panting mess on the bed—groans in response.

“Why are you here?” He turns toward you, still lucid enough to glare at you through the tangled mess of his hair. His voice is weak, but no less self-possessed: “I was very clear—no company today.”

“I am your personal bodyguard,” you remind him mildly. Your voice is calm—both non-threatening and non-condescending. “Those orders don’t apply to me. If things feel suspicious, I look into it. And they felt very suspicious.” Your brow knits as you study his clothes. Mulberry silk clings to his form, soaked through with sweat. Thin, eucalyptus sheets are tangled up around him. There are only two pillows. No water bottles. No knotting toys.

Nothing.

“You didn't know you'd be in heat,” you realise. “What happened to your suppressants?”

“I don't know.” There’s a quiet, frustrated edge to his voice. Vulnerable too. It makes you think of when you were both still slaves, and Aventurine was confined to the basement of the manor—the one that all omega slaves were made to ride out their heats in. Either they would do it alone or were ordered to spend it with some alpha, usually either a friend of the master or an alpha slave he wished to reward. That's when they're most pliable, he'd tell his guests, or sometimes even you. They get so desperate they'll present themselves to anyone. Then amused laughter from the other party—How obscene!—as you looked away, blood hammering in your ears.

You had been your master’s favourite. His most obedient, most profitable pet—striking enough for his guests to admire, deadly enough for his audiences to bet on, docile enough for him to enjoy. Good enough for him to reward, and he often rewarded you with his most beautiful slave: his Avgin omega. Just don't mark him, he’d said, fastening the muzzle around your mouth. It'll ruin his market value. Who knows if someday he'd sell Kakavasha off to some alpha master who wished to claim him, he said. Though I don't think there's anyone in this star system who'd want a Sigonian for a mate, let alone a Sigonian slave. Then he’d paused, eyes scanning over you. As if contemplating. But maybe they'd try to get Avgin whelps out of him, he added, and you felt like throwing up.

You'd never mate him in those moments, your muzzle always prevented you from saying. You didn't even want to think about touching him, and he didn't want to think about it either. Even in the cruel grip of his heats, with nothing but the thin mat beneath him and his slave’s rags around him, Kakavasha hadn't wanted any kind of contact from you, rejecting any chance of solace. Don't, don't—not again, not again, he'd begged. Then as the nights marched on and his mind grew hazier, he’d start whimpering too: It hurts, alpha. It hurts. Help me. It hurts. Don't touch me. Not again. It hurts. It hurts. Stop it, please stop it.

It gutted you.

It went against every instinct, not to touch him. To let him lie there, in scorching, lonely pain, when all you wanted to do was to dispel it. It would be so easy to press yourself against him and let his skin cool against yours, do the one thing that your body was good at other than killing. But not again, not again, I can't anymore, I don't want it, I never wanted it, and all you could do was sit there, unmoving. Watch as the most delicate, precious thing you had in your life shatter.

And standing here now, watching Aventurine shatter before you once more—it is unbearable. He needs a nest, you keep thinking. He needs a nest and some water and some kind of touch, some kind of relief, but not again, not again, and you’re still a slave, still a worthless and stupid slave, and Kakavasha is still crying on a basement floor and you can't do anything for him.

“You need help, Aventurine,” you say, voice soft, and his whole body tenses. His scent dips, and the scent of florals overwhelms you.

“No,” he breathes, “I don't.”

“You do. You're sick.” You bite your lip. Your heart splits as you suggest it, but you say, “I can call a professional.”

“No,” he spits. The facade is gone. The poker face has cracked. The anger and the pain and the fear are all on full display, and his voice sharpens: “No strangers.”

No foreign scents, you realise he's demanding. A new scent would probably make him feel unsafe.

Then let me help you, you think of pleading, but not again, not again, and you're filled with so much shame at the thought that all you can do is look away.

“Then—can I do anything?” He goes still. “Not—not that, but something to make you more comfortable. I can build you a nest, at least—”

“No.” He takes a deep, shaking breath. “No nests. I don't need one—”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don't,” he says. His voice is wavering now, on the verge of crumbling with fever and pain. “I've never—I’ve never needed a nest, I don't—I don't want to—” He presses his face into his pillow. “I need—I need to be alone, fuck—”

He doesn't mean to whine. The cry for distress is instinct, something that all omegas are programmed to do in heat. You’ve heard that they’ve evolved to make this noise as a way of appealing to nearby alphas for help, but you think this must be a lie as you never once saw your alpha master giving mercy to any of his omega slaves. Still, whether it is your biology or not—the noise that Aventurine makes has your heart aching so much you can't help but step forward. But he shakes his head and inches away, shuddering violently, and then his voice echoes again in that cold basement—not again, not again, and don't touch it anymore, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore, not again, and it's all you can do to back away until your spine is pressed against the door.

“I'm sorry, Vasha,” you say, strained. “I’m sorry. I'll leave you now.”

As the door shuts behind you, you catch a final glimpse him—face pressed into the pillows, shivering.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was crying.

When you were both slaves, Aventurine hated seeing you during his heats.

Kakavasha was normally calm around you. Most of the time, he was even friendly (he was friendly to everyone whom he thought could be useful), but he was different during his heats. Sometimes he was vicious; mostly he was withdrawn. Nearly always, he wanted to be left alone. In those moments, all he could register was your alpha scent and his memories of what other people had done to him during his heats. And while you'd have hated to leave him, despised the idea of him being offered to another alpha—even more than that, you hated violating this boundary of his. Hated that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to him. Hated being the reason he felt so unsafe.

Hated being an alpha.

Now that you no longer have the orders of your slavemaster hanging over you, it is the least you can do to respect Aventurine’s wish of being left alone. He has every right to privacy, and you have every obligation to give it to him. But instead you have been standing here, outside his door, for a full system-hour.

Every time you try to leave, your body is wracked with anxiety. The thought of other people—other alphas—coming near him in this state makes you seethe, your hands flexing at your side. The predator instinct comes out, and the people around you notice it. Every person unlucky enough to walk down this hall scurries away under your glare, even the other IPC staff wandering about to look for Aventurine: Must be their mate on the other side, they remark to one another, and then they're gone.

It is a hard thing to hear. You are not his mate. You are not even a heat partner. If you were, then he wouldn't be in so much pain. Not now, and not back then.

Aventurine has never had easy heats. You keep replaying your memories of all his past ones, each one a wound in your heart: the aching sweetness of nectar and honey; his withering body as he clutched his abdomen and curled up; the tears and sweat staining the mat beneath him. And above all: the fear. The scent of it, the sight of it, the sound of it in his voice. Stronger today than any other day.

By instinct, you know that he cannot persist like this. That this time is somehow worse than all those other times, and that he will become seriously ill if left alone.

After nearly an hour and a half, you finally open the door, fearing the worst.

“Aventurine?” you say quietly, but there's no response, and your stomach drops as you see him.

His body is pale, listless. If it weren't for the fragrance washing over you or the sweat on his temple, you'd worry that he was dead.

Tentatively, you reach out. Rest a hand on his forehead, and it scorches you. He stirs at the touch, doesn't open his eyes—but the quiet sigh of relief is unmistakable. His fingers twitch, as if wanting to reach for you.

“Aventurine,” you say gently. “Aventurine, I'm going to take care of you. Is that alright?”

He doesn't respond. You grimace, pulling away to fetch things for him: several spare pillows from the closet, an extra blanket too. From his suitcase, you grab a few of his sweaters, all thick cotton and fleece. He’d had a sense that Agnisahr would be cold at night. Deserts always get cold after sundown, since sand doesn’t retain heat, he'd told you while he was packing. Or I think so, anyway. Don't know why. Must have read it somewhere. Then he’d given you a long, unreadable look before saying, Make sure to bring a jacket. The warmest one you have. The elements on a planet like Agnisahr can kill a person—even a person like you.

I’m sure I’ll be fine, you’d dismissed him. I can survive anything. Any kind of weather, any kind of illness, any kind of pain: these are all things your species is known for being able to endure, the trait that made you such a prized slave in your master’s eyes, such a useful agent at the IPC. You hadn’t given Aventurine’s warning any thought and hardly paid attention to what you’d thrown into your own suitcase.

It surprises you, then, that you find one of your sweaters in his luggage. Made from Sedanian cashmere and heat tech designed by the Intelligentsia Guild. Cloud-soft and warm to the touch. Aventurine had bought it for you before you were deployed to Jarilo-IV to collect intelligence for Topaz. Warmest thing in the known universe, he’d commented. One of a kind, too. Remember to wear it, alright? Don't let my money go to waste, now.

You stare at it, kneading the fleece between your fingers. You hadn’t mentioned wanting to bring this sweater. You’d lost it in your closet some months ago and forgot about it. Aventurine must have remembered and gone looking for it, because—why? You aren't sure. Probably because it’s warmer and softer than anything he owns, you guess. Of course he’d want to wear it.

You throw it into the pile of things you’ve collected for him.

You take it all to his bed, the mattress dipping as you sit next to Aventurine. One by one, you scent each item with your wrist, watching him carefully the whole time. You’re quiet as you lay them out around him, leaving him undisturbed as you build a nest. You order water and electrolyte drinks too, and you’re quick about going to the door when you hear room service knocking—with how feverish he is, he probably badly needs it.

Aventurine is awake when you come back. His breathing is still laboured, pained—but calm.

“I said I didn’t need a nest,” Aventurine says, though he doesn’t sound angry. You wonder if he’s too weak to be. His voice is faint, and his eyes are barely open—focused on the pile of blankets and clothing around him.

“You’re welcome.” You open a bottle of water, hold it out to him. “Drink.”

Aventurine pauses, stares at the offering like it's some kind of foreign object. But he accepts it eventually, sitting up and taking it from you. He winces with the movement, which he tries to hide. He ignores your frown as he drinks, and he doesn't stop until the bottle is empty.

“There are more,” you say, pointing at the several additional bottles on the nightstand. “And some food and some painkillers. I don't know how well they’ll work. This isn't a normal heat. If you're alright with it, I'll call a doctor and—”

“Everything smells like you,” he says quietly, and you stop.

“...yes. Unless they’re mated, nests usually feel most comforting to an omega when they smell like an alpha.” You swallow, looking away. “...you don't have a mate, and you didn't want a professional, so this was the only option I could think of. I'm sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says. He picks out one of the sweaters that have made its way into the nest, the Sedanian one. “I don't mind it.”

“Oh.” You let out a breath. “Then—can I call a doctor?”

His grip on the sweater tightens. “No.”

You frown. “Aventurine—”

“I’ve never needed a doctor before,” he says. He sounds unbothered, but he's fidgeting with the sweater now. “I don't need one now.”

A lie. He almost certainly needed a doctor in some of his prior heats, but you don't push the matter. “Maybe you don't need one,” you say instead, “but it would help.”

“I don't need help,” he says, and you look at him in disbelief. He catches your expression, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Not more than you've already done, I mean.”

“I’ve barely—”

“Contact Topaz. Tell her I'm incapacitated. Tell her…” He hums. “Tell her I have food poisoning. The personnel too. It's not time-sensitive, our business on Agnisahr, so it shouldn't matter if I need a few days off.”

“You really need—”

“Give my regrets to our Agnisahran friends. Deliver it in person. They see you as my right hand, so they’ll most appreciate it coming from you. Topaz can help you with the verbiage. And—try to socialise with them a little, won't you? I think that little omega princess of theirs likes you. Some of the courtesans too, and they have surprising influence.”

“I do not want to be around any omega other than you right now,” you say before you can stop yourself, and Aventurine stops, blinking. His expression is blank, if perhaps a little curious—but his scent shifts. You can't identify how. You add quickly, “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re this sick.”

“Ah. Right.” Aventurine looks away. His voice sounds strange, and his heat must be getting to him again, because it carries a hint of pain. “But you have to. The IPC’s goals take priority.”

You frown. “Your life is more important than the IPC,” you say, and he laughs. Loudly.

“What? This is just a heat. I’m not going to die.”

“You don’t know that without seeing a doctor.”

“I do. I’m willing to bet money that I won’t die.” He cuts you off before you can reply: yes, you're always willing to bet on your life. “And even if I do, that would still be less important than Agnisahr. Do you know how many resources are on this lifeless rock?” His mouth slants. “If we mess up here, I’m dead anyway.”

“I wouldn’t let them touch you.”

“Yes, you would—because they would kill you too.” Aventurine sighs. His eyes close, and his brow creases—a sign that whatever reprieve he was lucky enough to get is about to end. “Go do what I asked. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll… see a doctor if you do.”

You stand immediately. “Alright. I’ll be back to check on you.”

“I know.”

You stop at the door, giving him a long look. Seeing him like this—lying on a proper bed, cradled in a warm nest, with water and food and medicine nearby—you feel a little better. This is leagues beyond what he’d been afforded in his days as a slave, at the very least. Even if he isn’t free, at least he isn’t trapped.

But it still doesn’t feel good, having to step away. The last thing you want to do is talk to other people, pretend to have interest in other omegas. There are an astonishing number of them who are interested in you on this planet—that princess, and some baron’s son, and one of the prince’s favourite paramours—but you can’t bring yourself to care even for business purposes when Aventurine is like this. You can't act as if you are enjoying yourself when you know he is in pain.

You wonder about telling Topaz the truth. You wonder if she’d be worried enough about Aventurine to let you neglect this mission and cover for you instead, without letting Jade or Diamond or anyone else dangerous know. Not that you think that anyone at the Company particularly cares about Kakavasha—it’s only that he’s valuable. Aventurine of Stratagems is valuable. How many worlds have fallen because of him?

But he seemed unwilling to bet on his worth to them. Which is startling, given how often he's bet on it in the past.

“What’s so important about this planet,” you can’t help but ask, “that the IPC would rather you die than lose it?”

He’s silent for a long moment. His eyes are closed—hidden—but you can see his knuckles whiten as he clutches the Sedanian sweater.

“Copper,” he says. “They want it for the copper.”

When Kakavasha first suggested a friendship to you, it had felt like something in between a proposition and a threat:

Go ahead, he'd said. Use me as you wish. You can even stab me in the back if you want. Just be mindful of this: I don't make deals that don't pay off.

It might have been a strange way of making friends in any other circumstance, but in a house of slaves, it was a natural one. You had not been a clever person—still aren't—but you understood that your place in the world was one of a tool. This was the place of all slaves: you were all things to be used. Your body was a thing to be used. It was valuable for its strength, for its hardiness, for its threat in the arena and for its convenience in your master’s bed (or in a dark basement, or within a heat house, or inside whichever omega your mistress ordered you to calm down). It did not surprise you that Kakavasha wanted to use it as well. It did not surprise you that Kakavasha expected you to use him in return.

You never would have, of course. Kakavasha was not a thing to be used—he had always been a mate. Though you were happy to let him use you, because all you were was a tool anyway, so it was really all you could offer him: to be used.

None of this has changed for you. You don't think any of this has changed for Aventurine, either. With each new friendship he makes, he repeats those familiar words: Use me as you wish. And with each person who accepts, this is exactly what they do: they use him, and they use him, and they use him until suddenly they notice he's tricked them and they've got the losing hand.

You damned gambler, they always spit. You Sigonian wretch. All you know is how to manipulate people. Thief, liar, cheat, whore. Despite all these insults, Aventurine always smiles at them. Cry as they might, he’s won his bet and has their world in his palms.

Winner takes all, he sometimes gloats.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. This is all Aventurine knows; these are his great guiding principles in life. (He's told you this point blank, stacking up chips in his favourite gambling dens with a self-satisfied grin.) You often find yourself coming back to these conversations, particularly when you need to convince him of something.

And right now, you very badly need to convince him of something.

Aventurine is ignoring his doctor’s advice. His suppressants are unstable in extreme temperatures, he's been told. During travel on Agnisahr, they'd degraded, and now he’s experiencing his first heat in several years. Of course it's going to be painful, his doctor had said. I can prescribe you some medication to ease the symptoms, but really—nothing will work better than a heat partner. It doesn't need to be a mate. Any alpha will do.

The doctor had been an alpha. You had asked for a beta or omega, but alphas tend to dominate in Interastral Medical Schools, so they're in short supply. Aventurine had been still the whole time, face unreadable, but you could tell he wanted to throw up at the stench of an unfamiliar alpha. You had stepped between the two of them, not bothering to hide the animosity in your voice. We’ll take the medication, you had said, and the doctor had sniffed the air and nodded at you in approval.

Probably won't need it. An alpha like you could sort him out with just a few rounds, he told you, and both of you stayed quiet as he left.

You still aren't talking, or even looking at each other. Aventurine has lay down in his nest again, closing his eyes, while you stand as far away as physically possible—at the door where you'd just shown the doctor out. With the room shut off again, windows closed and door locked, Aventurine’s scent is starting to flood your senses once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him shivering.

“What do you want to do?” you ask.

“Nothing.” He swallows. “I'll be fine.”

He's afraid. You can tell he's afraid. And you can tell he’ll be more afraid if you take even a single step closer to him, so you nod and say, “I'll go pick up your medication, then,” and Aventurine doesn't stop you. You can see him curling up in his nest, face pressed into the cashmere sweater.

But he still doesn't stop you.

After a few more days, Aventurine finally breaks.

There is a rare sag to his shoulders when he calls you to the room, along with a taste of dread in the air. You haven't seen him so vulnerable in years. Aventurine is not an open person, so cunning and self-possessed in his wealth—but Kakavasha was more brittle, more powerless, flayed raw and open even though he didn't often get the whip. (It would ruin his value if he ever scarred—his looks were his greatest selling point, your master said.) He was especially defeated when forced to spend his heats with an alpha he didn't want. You wonder, a vice grip of pain around your heart, whether this entire situation is simply an extension of that. Whether he is calling you here against his will, this time compelled by his pain, rather than his master. Whether this luxury suite feels like that wretched basement to him.

He doesn't look at you when he talks, nor does he sit up. He remains curled in his nest, nearly clinging onto the blankets and clothes.

“That stupid medication,” he pants out, sharp even in his heat, “isn't working.”

“I can tell.” Your brow knots. He’s in so much pain, it is palpable. “I”—you hesitate, voice dropping. “Can I help you?”

He goes quiet. As both Aventurine and Kakavasha, he has always been disinclined to accept help from other people. There is no such thing as unconditional help in his mind—only leverage and weakness. He hates it when people have leverage over him, and he hates being weak. Both are things that can be exploited, and Aventurine always needs to be the one doing the exploiting. He always needs to be in control.

Even like this, the last threads of his sanity about to snap, with every circuit of his omega biology trying to drag him into insensible lust, he fights viciously to be in control.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. Control and being controlled. This is how he's always lived. This is how he's always survived.

This is the only way to let him maintain control when he is most afraid of losing it.

“I don't mind,” you say quietly, “if you use me.”

Even through the haze of heat, Aventurine’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“I don't mind if you use me,” you repeat, voice neutral. Unfeeling. The proposal might sound cruel to someone else, but not you. After all—your place in the world is one of a tool, and this is what you've always done as an alpha and a slave: sleeping with people to take care of their needs, or sometimes just their desires. It did always make you feel strangely hollow, but you think it will feel just fine with Aventurine. All you've ever wanted to do is keep him safe, and surely, this will do that, but—

“I'll only help if you want. I don't want to force it.” You lower your eyes. “But if you do want it, I'll be careful with you. You can lead. I promise.”

“...I know.” Aventurine’s voice is weak, cracks with pain, but you can tell he's speaking with clarity. “I know you will be.”

You look up. “Then you'll let me help?”

Aventurine looks away—a sign that he cannot adopt his usual smile. He’s clutching that sweater again, pressed close to his chest.

“Just your wrist,” he says quietly.

You listen carefully. “What?”

“I just—I just want your wrist.” He looks away. “Your—your scent gland. Only that.”

“Okay.”

You get up, then falter. When it was your job to comfort your mistress’ omega slaves, you were told to enter their nests—no permission needed from them, no permission needed from you, because only her permission ever mattered for anything. The omegas were usually too delirious to care, often had even begged for it with the state of mind that they were in. But Aventurine is different. He's not like you, and he's not like them. He's never bent to any of his masters’ wills. And even if he did, you wouldn't want to have him bend to yours.

Instead of climbing into his nest, you ask, “Can I sit on the bed?” He doesn't answer. “Just the edge of it,” you add, and you hear him exhale.

“Fine,” he says, breathing measured.

“Thank you,” you say, and he gives you a confused look. But then you're reaching out with a hand, offering it, and he is quickly distracted.

Aventurine drops the sweater, grabs your hand almost immediately. He turns over your palms, fingers tracing your heartlines—as if testing you, as if mapping out territory. He runs his thumbs along the veins of your wrists, too, right over your scent gland, and you have to force yourself not to shudder at the feeling. You only stay still, letting him explore the contours of your hands, letting him acclimate to the feeling of your skin. He laces his fingers with your own, a latticework trap, and he finally drags his wrist along yours.

Both of you inhale sharply.

You can't react. You know it'll scare him if you do, but it's hard to keep still. The way his scent blossoms, the way it mingles with yours, the way it all washes over you—what you're doing can hardly be called touching, but you feel like you're going mad. Especially when he flushes like that, his vibrant eyes fluttering shut. Especially when the sweetness of honey overtakes your senses. Especially when you can smell the way his body is reacting, all that wetness and heat and slick dripping between his legs. You don't miss the way his thighs rub together, nor the hard outline of his cock straining against his pants.

Aventurine shudders. He brings your hand up to his face, rests his cheek in your palm. His skin is flushed and burning with fever, and it's no wonder that he's sighing with relief at your touch. You try not to stare at the way his mouth falls open. He looks at you for a moment, his gaze a hazy violet and blue—before he closes his eyes again and presses his lips into your wrist.

Fuck.

“Aventurine—” You have to stop, voice strangled, when you feel the full softness of his lips working against your skin. He’s panting now, laboured breaths sweeping over your veins. Then you feel his teeth catch, a gentle nip on your flesh, and when he groans into your racing pulse—deep, relieved, desperate, a noise that makes your gut flare with heat—you realise you can't do this.

You pull back your hand, and Aventurine startles.

“Aventurine,” you say, voice strained. Maybe we should stop, you want to say, but he cuts you off.

“I need”—a shaky breath—“I need more.”

You watch Aventurine carefully. His pupils are dilated, blue irises nearly eclipsed. His cheeks are rosy, and he can't stop panting. You can fully smell his arousal now, even through his silk clothes. He's desperate, needing to be filled.

But he also looks torn. His brows are knotted, and you can taste a faint hint of fear in the air now. His knuckles clutch at the sheets, almost white, and he stares at them. He can't look up. He can't look at you. His whole body is tense, like he wants to bolt—and if he weren't so weak, you think he might actually.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He doesn't nod. He also doesn't shake his head. His arms clutch at his midsection as he winces. He doesn't look like Aventurine. He looks like Kakavasha. It makes your heart ache as you watch him give into his body’s demands, wearing the same expression he did on the day your master bought him.

“...don't use your Voice on me,” Aventurine—Kakavasha—says quietly.

It takes you a moment to realise what he's asking. “I won't.”

“And”—his eyes somehow grow even more evasive, hidden by his long lashes— “don’t touch my commodity code.”

His commodity code. His commodity code that is seared into his scent gland. His code that, if you kiss, will ease his agony instantly. His code that, if you bite—will chain him to you irreversibly.

“Of course I won't,” you say instantly.

He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.

“And—” Aventurine looks away, jaw tight. His voice is quiet but wrought with tension: “—I don't like when people put things inside me.”

Something claws the walls of your heart.

“That's fine too,” you reply. “I don't mind doing it the other way.”

Aventurine’s sigh is nearly inaudible, but unmistakable. His scent shifts a little bit, the wildflower fragrance fading ever so slightly. But he doesn't come to you. He merely sits there—waiting. Expecting. Maybe dreading. Even in the senseless daze of heat, he’s too anxious to move.

You approach slowly. Though you're overwhelmed by the bouquet of his scent, though you feel a curl of heat in your belly in response to it—you are slow. Alphas are supposedly victims of insatiable lust whenever around an omega in heat, absolved of every action they take, but you are convinced this is a lie. You have never once wanted to handle Aventurine with such cruelty. You think that inflicting violence on him, more than anything else, would go against your biology. Every molecule in your body would reject putting him in such pain or inciting such fear. So you are careful when you approach him, slow as you inch up to him—but you do not think it helps.

Aventurine lies down, his face turned away from yours. His eyes squeeze shut, like he's expecting this to hurt. Uncertainty gnaws at your gut as you lean over him, draping your body over his—the only position you've ever taken an omega in, other than mounting them from behind.

(You do not want to mount Aventurine. You never have. It is an impersonal position, a position that omega biology supposedly would force him to enjoy, a position that alphas have likely dictated him to enjoy. You think there is nothing you would hate more. In your weakest, most selfish moments, in your worst ruts, when you’ve allowed yourself to fantasise about mating Kakavasha—you are always facing each other, and he is always looking at you with his eyes you've always loved, and it always feels intimate. Never impersonal. Never dictated. Never forced.)

Aventurine is so honeysweet beneath you. More fragrant than any omega you’ve ever been with. You glance at his commodity code, trying to ignore the scent of his branded skin, then lean down to press your face against the other side of his neck, where a faint scar mars the otherwise flawless slope of his nape. Like every other omega slave you've ever slept with, the scent gland there has been excised: a precautionary measure to reduce the risk of an unwanted mating bite.

(Not unwanted by them—the wants of a slave never matter—but unwanted by their owners. A mating bite would ruin the code seared into their neck, claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. It would hurt their resale value. Only owners are allowed to claim slaves in such a permanent way—and the wants of a slave have no relevance there, either.)

It's a funny thing, this surgical scar. Even with their gland missing, you've noticed that most omegas like having their neck scented by you anyway, probably from some vestigial instinct. You guess that Aventurine won't be any different, that maybe it will comfort him. But when your lips skim the scar left on him by his owner, his entire body stiffens beneath you. His fragrance cuts into your lungs, sharp.

You recoil, as if burned by the touch of him.

“Sorry,” Aventurine is quick to say. He tries to glance at you, but his diamond pupils quickly avoid you again. “Don’t worry about me. Just do whatever you need to do.”

“But you're scared,” you point out, and you see his brow twitch. “You’re scared when I touch you.”

“Not scared,” he lies. “Just…”

When his eyes finally look at you—land on your lips—you understand.

A bite would claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. If you lost your mind—give into the insatiable lust of an alpha whenever around an omega in heat—you might bite him, and then you would own Aventurine.

And Aventurine would rather die than be owned by anyone again.

He doesn't need to finish his sentence. You already know what you need to do.

“It's okay,” you say gently, and his brow knots. “I have an idea.”

Aventurine is always afraid.

This is a fact that has haunted you since the day you met him. You've wondered about how to fix it—the bare minimum as his mate (always his, even if he doesn't want you)—and you’ve never quite pinned down how. Because when someone has spent their life in perpetual fear, how do you make them feel safe? When their life is constantly at risk, how do you ever make them feel calm?

You still aren't sure of the answer. But after seeing Kakavasha become Aventurine, you now have a good guess.

It is clear from his scent that Aventurine does not feel remotely safe right now. Not when you leave to fetch something from your own room, and not when you return. The anxiety thickens when he sees, in your hands, a very familiar muzzle.

Aventurine stares. He is not smiling, but he also does not reveal his discomfort on his face, even as beads of sweat line his temple. But his voice is too controlled, too calm, when he asks, “You kept the mask.”

You nod.

“I told you to throw it out,” he points out, “when I freed you.”

“I know. Sorry. I don't know why I kept it.” You remember how tightly you clutched it before the incinerator, thinking about how strange it would feel, discarding something that you'd worn everyday since you presented—but you don't tell him this. Instead, you say, “But it’s convenient.”

Before Aventurine can say anything, you toss him the remote.

“You’re afraid of my bite and my Voice, but you don't have to be with this,” you explain. Your tone is gentle, soothing. Probably disarming coming from an alpha, with how he is in heat. Perhaps that's why he’s studying the remote rather than chucking it away. “You'll be in full control if I wear this.”

Control. Mere seconds after you say it, you can smell his fragrance change again, mellowing. It's only a brief moment of calm that fades when you latch the mask onto your face, but he doesn't smell as nearly as stressed before.

Aventurine watches you carefully as the carbon steel swallows your maw, its old and familiar edges biting into you. For the first time in years, you cannot tell what he is thinking—truly poker-faced even to you.

“You aren't bothered by wearing that thing while we do this,” he says—asks?—and you shake your head. The muzzle was part of you for years. You were wearing it when you killed someone for the first time. You were wearing it when you went into rut for the first time. You were wearing it when your master had sex with you for the first time. It doesn't bother you that you’ll wear it when you have sex with Aventurine.

If you could speak, you would ask him, Why do you think it would bother me? But all you do is gesture for him to sit up. To switch places with you. You lie down—something you've never done with an omega—and wait for him to get on top.

Aventurine stares at you for a long, quiet moment. It's followed by a sigh of relief. Disarmed, he—for the first time in any heat you've witnessed—finally relaxes. His scent wafts over you as he climbs between your legs, and you can feel the heat radiating from his hands as he parts your thighs, almost scalding.

He doesn't bother getting you ready, too needy to think rationally, but he doesn't have to anyway. You've been wet ever since you felt his mouth touch your wrist, hard ever since you heard him groan into it. You're equally desperate to get some relief as you feel his cockhead sliding against your opening, leaking all over your entrance as his slick drips onto your thighs. His breath shakes as he enters you, and he can't hear it with how you're muzzled—but you groan just as deeply as him at the tight stretch.

You hear him swear when you clench around him, watch him lean over you. His arms shake as he supports himself, refusing to succumb to his heat even as he chases his relief. You seek out his gaze (just as in your dreams, facing each other, intimate), and his neon eyes catch on your eyes for a brief, breathtaking second—

—before he looks away.

There's a flash of—you don't know what, maybe pain? Or fear?—in his irises as he does. A twitch of the brow, a tell he'd normally rather die than let slip. You have the realisation, as Aventurine moves inside you, that even while you're muzzled, even while he has complete control over you—he still can't stand having sex with you. Probably because he can't stand being in heat in general, you tell yourself. Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore. He'd have this reaction to anyone.

Still—you didn't expect him to have this reaction to you.

Your hands twitch, possessed by an old instinct to cover your eyes. But you'd probably scare Aventurine if you moved your arms, so all you do is dig your fingers into the sheets and squeeze them shut. You tell yourself again and again that he'd hate having sex with anyone in these circumstances—not just you. And then you tell yourself, as a desperate, broken moan leaves his branded throat, that he would also come inside anyone in these circumstances, caught within the cruel grip of his heat.

Aventurine stills inside you as he finishes. He pants, sweat dripping down his temple as he shudders in his ecstasy, his spend hot and thick inside you. You can feel his fever break as he comes down from his high, the heat coming off his body easing into a manageable warmth.

Do you feel better, you try to say, but you can't move your mouth while your mask is on. So you wait patiently for Aventurine to come back to himself, watching him carefully as he pulls out and rolls onto the mattress beside you. He finally glances at you then. His eyes narrow once they land on you, confusion flicking through them. Then displeasure. He reaches for the remote.

To your surprise, he immediately punches in the code to unlock your muzzle. Aventurine has apparently remembered the numbers after all these years, as if the moment he freed you has been since seared into his memory.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing you say, and Aventurine gives you a confused look. He’s still panting, dazed, so you ask, “Can I check your temperature?” And when he nods, you confirm your suspicion: he's still much too warm.

There is an ache between your legs and a strange hollow in your gut (because you aren't very experienced with receiving, you think—your body likely just isn't used to the feeling of it), but you quickly forget them. All you can think of is Aventurine, and how he’s still unwell, and how you need to comfort him. The instinct is so strong that you don't even say anything as you get up, straightening out your clothes.

“Are you leaving?” Aventurine asks. His voice is neutral, completely unbothered, but the thought is so horrific to you that you turn back to him with wide eyes.

“Of course not. I'm going to get you water and medicine.” A beat. You stare at Aventurine’s eyes, then think about how he hid them from you during sex. The hollow feeling comes back, but it's mostly eclipsed by your anxiety at the next thought: “...do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to?”

“I—” I'd rather die, you think. Being forced to leave him right now would feel like tearing out a piece of yourself. You don't know if there's an alpha in this world who could leave their mate in the middle of a heat. And even if he is unmarked, unattached to you—you still think of yourself as his mate. (His, always his, even if he doesn't want you.) “I would prefer not to. I am your heat partner. I'm supposed to take care of you.”

You hear a quiet breath. “Right. Of course. You're always so conscientious.” Aventurine nods, as if convincing himself of something. “Try not to take too long.”

“I’ll come back soon,” you promise, and the air sweetens. Encouraged, you add, voice gentle: “I’ll bring that medication, and then we can have sex as many times as you need after I come back. I'll make sure you're not in any pain anymore.” You pause, studying him. “Is there anything else you need to feel better?”

His fragrance changes once more, this time in a way you don't totally recognize. “No.” His voice sounds strange. His scent is still foreign, fluctuating, possibly hinting at some kind of pain. The heat must be getting to him again—and of course it wasn't enough, what you just did, what you can provide. He likely needs to be filled to get any kind of lasting relief, but you left him empty. “No, that's all I want.”

You nod, forcing yourself to look calm. Ignoring the emptiness in your gut. It didn't feel bad, but you hope it'll feel better next time you have sex. You think it will. Alphas are supposed to be filled with an insatiable lust near omegas in heat, after all. And even though you’ve never felt that before—never felt anything sleeping with all those omegas in your mistress’ house—you are sure you'll eventually feel it around Aventurine.

But the feeling never comes. Even though you can tell that his heat has returned by the time you're back—sweat beading his temples, laboured breaths at his lips, his bottoms now discarded, with full evidence of arousal between his legs—you don't feel much of anything as you reach for your mask again.

“Don't,” Aventurine says, before it can clasp around your face. You give him a curious look. He explains, “Don't. I don't want to have sex again. Not yet.”

You stare at him, shifting. Uncomfortable. Uncertain. Not knowing how he wants to use you. “What can I do?”

He gives you a long look. “Come here. I… I want your scent gland.”

It's a sensible request. If there's a way to seek relief without fucking someone—without fucking you, which he clearly hated doing—you're sure Aventurine would prefer it. So you climb into his nest, holding your wrist out for him, and—

“No.” His voice is quiet. “I want the one on your neck.”

“...oh.”

You stand there, not sure where to move. If he wants you in his nest again, or if he’d rather do this standing. You’re relieved when he demands, “Lie down.”

You expect him to get on top of you when you do. Assume that he wants complete control—but he instead lies down beside you. Presses his body into yours, and then his face into your neck. His nose and lips brush against your scent gland, a full-body shudder running through him, and—

—and now you know for a fact that it is a lie that alphas want nothing other than to fuck an omega when they're in heat. Because even like this, with his lips sweet on your neck, with the sheets soaked with his slick, with his spend leaking out of you—you do not want to have sex with Aventurine. You only want to hold him. You only want him to keep scenting you. You only want to scent him back.

You only want him to feel safe.

You breathe in deeply, lungs flooded by honey. You think of what it felt like to hold him in that cold basement, when he was delirious with fever and pain, and you think about how different his scent is now. How much sweeter it is. How much calmer he feels.

“Do you feel better?” you ask, and he doesn't respond, but you know the answer. His hands come up to dig into your shirt, and he presses into you like you're a sweater in his nest. Silence blankets over you both, calm and warm. His laboured breath starts to improve.

He does eventually speak.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he says, “what you smell like?”

You stare at him. Your master used to say that you smelled good, but he'd never elaborated, and you hadn't wanted him to. “No.”

Aventurine breathes in.

“You smell like—” A little sigh, shaking and feverish, leaves him. “You smell like rain.”

Your eyebrows tick up. “Rain?”

“Yes. Or not just rain, but”—he pauses, next words quiet—“more Iike after it rains. You smell like the desert after a rainfall.”

“Oh.” You don't know what to say to that. Feeling distinctly like it's a silly question, you ask, “Is that a good scent?”

“Some would think so. Especially to people from the desert. You probably smell like a blessing to them. Although…”

Aventurine goes quiet again. You stare at the chandelier above you, all crystal and white gold, and wait.

“Although?” you prompt.

“...although I wouldn't really know,” he says. “It’s just a hunch. I bet it's why so many omegas on this planet like you.”

You couldn't care less about those other omegas. All you care about is Aventurine. “And?” you say. “Do you like my scent?”

His reply never comes. He just breathes deeply again, seeking relief from your neck—not intimacy. Any alpha’s scent would work; that doctor told you so. Any alpha’s touch would work, too. There are no special feelings involved here. Your place in the world is one of a tool, and tools are never especially liked nor disliked. Their value exists only in how they can be used.

You don't know why you even bothered to ask the question.

But then something strange happens: Aventurine curls against you, pressing even further into you. His lashes flutter against your pulse again; it ticks up in response, beating fast against his lips.

“I do,” he says quietly. “I do like it.”

You swallow. “But I guess that's because you're in heat. Any alpha would smell good to you, wouldn’t they?”

“No.” His fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt. “No, I like it because it's yours.”

You know better than to read too much into his response. Aventurine had already said it earlier: No foreign scents. He's only tolerating this whole arrangement because you don't smell unfamiliar to him. Only able to use you because you are the least threatening option.

But the words break something in you—break the thing that made you unable to throw out that little pouch of copper coins that you were saving up for Kakavasha’s freedom, the part of you that made you wear that carbon-steel mask for him. It is this part of you that has your eyes squeezing shut and your arms wrapping around him. You know he’ll recoil, reject you, but just this once—you need to try.

Aventurine doesn't push you away.

He melts into you instead, inhaling deeply. Your scent gland tingles with the warmth of his breath, the feeling of his lips. He seems—comfortable.

You can't fathom why he’s staying in your arms. Perhaps he's simply desperate for some kind of relief from his heat, just like when you held him in the basement while he was delirious from pain. But Aventurine had spoken to you with clarity just now, and his skin doesn't feel scalding so much as warm, and his scent is so different than from that moment. So sweet and so gentle, without a trace of fear. It makes your heart squeeze. As much as you've always wanted Aventurine to feel safe, you'd never imagined that his scent would be so beautiful when he is.

It makes your heart ache. You've never held anything so lovely before, and you’ve never felt so warm before, and it all makes up for how badly it hurt to let Aventurine inside you. How hollow it made you feel to let him use you. How none of that matters as long as you can keep him safe like this, because you belong to Kakavasha. You'll always belong to Kakavasha, in a fate that was chosen for you on the day you met him.

You're his, always his—even if he’ll never want you.

end part i

thank you so much to lore for hosting a fantastic collab and to my sponsors who funded this fic and got it over the finish line! please go check out @ficsforgaza to find other amazing hsr writers you can sponsor in order to help fundraise! here is my own wip list, if you are interested in seeing more from me!

and thank you most of all to YOU! I appreciate you so much for reading this chapter. thank you so much for sticking it through.

additional end notes

#彡 favorites.#cw slavery #cw racism #cw violence #cw sa mention #the first sentence with the block letters ): it says I’ve always love you ??? gonna go cry now (I already did last night)#‘your eyes went soft. beneath the artificial fragrance / you finally caught a hint of his family scent’ ‘the way it always is when he’s #scared.’ THIS LINE BROKE MY HEART. his facade is not facading . WE KNOW. WE WILL ALWAYS KNOW #‘nothing of value’ god dammit aventurine i want to shake his shoulders so bad. this is killing me #OMG THE COIN PURSE PART. THE READER IS SO SWEET )))))): OMG. I remember the face I made at that part /pos and I did tear up quite a bit #‘you never let me do my job’ YEAH. what’s up with that ????????? aventurine u turd. I WANT HIM TO LET US LOVE HIM SOOOO BAD HGGGRRRRRRRRRRR #‘no im actually a great liar. you’re just too good at reading me. it’s very inconvenient you know.’ okay i don’t know how to explain how i #feel. but can I say I heard this perfectly in his voice ? and it made me react some way. like jaw fell open kind of way. your characteriza #UGH I HATE THE TAG LIMIT characterization** IS SO GOOD I CAN HEAR EVERYTHING IN MY HEAD it’s like a movie is playing in my brain mhm mhm!!!#also the part where we keep repeating aventurine over and over and he keeps talking about what he could buy ): LISTEN TO MMMMMEMEEEEEEEHHRH #‘it went against every instinct not to touch him’ THIS IS WHAT I MEANT in my word dump )): trying so hard but so conflicted because #as an alpha you can make it better for him. but he doesn’t want that so u respect it. but he’s in so much pain ): UGHHHHHHHHHH #the sweater part . are you serious /pos. this is such a cute little detail ): I’m gonna start sobbing again can we give him the world #‘everything smells like you’ im sorry 😭 we don’t have much to work with mr aventurine BUT HE SAID ‘I don’t mind it’ SO🥺🥺🥺#‘copper’ ‘they want it for the copper’ the way I started laughing because r u serious . I’m actually a little . brow twitched. BROW TWITCHE #oh okay the copper! right. the copper. (the table flips over) be so fr rn /pos #the entire wrist scene I read with one hand over an eye and also hidden under my blankets because I was so tense HEJDKCKJCKD #‘aventurine would rather die than be owned again’ my heart shattered into pieces at this btw #him still remembering the pass to the muzzle ): and the ‘are you leaving’ im literally gonna cry all over again /pos #the neck scent gland fucked me up so bad. and the rain scent. and he likes it because it’s ours . x _ x / T_T #i have thoughts about your other fic but I will probably write them tomorrow because now I would like to re-re-re-read this one 😅#I’ve always loved * for the first tag dammit I can’t imagine how many typos are in this whole thing #TLDR : great work !!! loved this > < <33

734 notes · View notes

maplesyrupsainz · 2 months ago

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙dont call me kid | CL16˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x singer!reader y/n (she/her) (also some subtle lando norris x reader bc i cant help myself)

genre: social media au

warnings: angst!! sorry charles is the bad guy lol

summary: in which a very illicit affair finally gets out and you face the backlash

a/n: obsessed with this request ahhhh i need to write more angst!!!! also yea okay IM BACK IM BACK

request!!!: singer!reader and charles date but he kept it private so no one knew which is why they break up and like the fall out when ppl find out abt it online <3 maybe her healing and him regretting it? or like her moving on with someone else

my masterlist

fc: holly humberstone

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

f1gossip

liked by user3, user17, user44, and others

f1gossip charles leclerc seen out shopping today with girlfriend alexandra saint mleux

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user6 what hahaha

user7 so y/n must've been a while ago right??

user8 crickets from y/n

user9 they're so cute together y/n is deffo trying to split them up or something

user10 this whole situation is weird imo

user11 right like im confused and dont think y/n is the villain??

user12 be fr charles fumbled y/n.

user13 okay 😂

user14 sureeeee

user15 yuppp y/n defenders rise fr!!

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, and others

charles_leclerc the good life ☀️

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user16 omgg charles & alex are so cute together

user17 omgg such gorgeous pics

user18 dont know who im more jealous of

carlossainz55 looking good 🏝️

charles_leclerc who, me or the beach?

carlossainz55 no comment

user19 charlos you will always be famous

user20 alex is the best wag <3

user21 ahh a leo leclerc cameo we love to see it

alexandrasaintmleux i love summers with you 🫶

charles_leclerc it is an honour to be in your company

user22 STOPPPP

user23 me whennn omg

user24 downgrade from y/n lol.

*comment deleted by charles_leclerc*

user25 justice for y/n much 🙄

*comment deleted by charles_leclerc*

user26 wait is he deleting comments about **

yourusername 📍 london

liked by yourbff, landonorris, and others

yourusername back home ❤️

tagged: yourbff

view all comments

yourbff love you

yourusername love you

user27 is this charles’ attention seeking fling 💀

user28 geez & she thought she could compete with alex

user29 ikr she's the wrong vibe fr

user30 emo vibes

user31 here u go here's ur clout 💀

user32 music sucks too

user33 lando in the likes? her nxt target bro

user34 bffr even he doesnt want her

user35 wtf is this comment section

user36 why so much hate???

*comments on this post have now been limited*

twitter ->

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instagram ->

ynupdates

liked by user11, landonorris, yourbff, and others

ynupdates y/n spotted in a parking lot talking on a phone call this afternoon!! the first sighting of her in over three months ❤️

view all comments

user43 OH MY GOD FINALLY

user44 ew stay hidden

user45 girl get off a y/n fan page then 💀

user46 omg she looks happy or is it just me???

user47 i hope she's healing🥹🥹

user48 our girl is back omg

user49 A CAR PARK?! HAHAHA

user50 she real for dat

user51 y/n we miss you 😭

user52 COME BACK Y/N

user53 okay wait why is no one talking about lando norris in the likes

user54 this is so atrociously random.

user55 maybe he's a fan🥹

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, sabrinacarpenter, and others

user56 OH MY GOD

user57 FINALLY

user58 new music please im praying

user59 Y/N WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH

ynupdates omg finally. war is over

gracieabrams so effing glad ur back.

yourusername dont you know it

phoebebridgers thank god, my queen is back

yourusername for good!!

billieeilish im locked tf in

liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc glad you're back y/n!

landonorris cant wait for the world to hear your voice

yourusername thank u lando 🥹🥹

landonorris of course. always thinking of you!

yourusername means so much xx

user60 im healed.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

yourusername you'll be flushed when you return ❤️ hi guys :) sorry that it's been a while... here's a lil peak into what i've been up to. my new song ‘illicit affairs’ is yours now.

view all comments

user61 oh my god

user62 WHAT STARTED IN BEAUTIFUL ROOMS ENDS IN MEETINGS IN PARKING LOTS???

user63 the way literally all the leaked pics of y/n with charles were in cars too...

user64 omg the song is so so heartbreaking... fym it dies & it dies & it dies ?!?!?

user65 OKAY BUT WHAT ABOUT THEY LIE AND THEY LIE AND THEY LIE

user66 A MIIIIILION LITTLE TIMES

user67 omg what did that man do to my girl

user68 such a beautifully heartbreaking song

user69 u showed me colours u know i cant see with anyone else:(

user70 u taught me a secret language i can't speak with anyone else:(

user71 okay but the lyrics look at this idiotic fool that u made me & for u i would ruin myself a million little times are so so heartbreaking like she fr got bullied off the internet over this secret relationship bro

user72 alex in the likes? lando in the last pic? is my girl winning in every category rn

user73 karma

landonorris such a beautiful song

yourusername tysm i rly appreciate u listening 🥹

landonorris 🧡

user74 now kiss

oscarpiastri amazing song y/n!

yourusername thanks osc <3

carlossainz55 as always such a lovely song. you're a rare talent y/n!

yourusername 🥹🫶

messages ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates

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f1wagupdates charles leclerc's wag alexandra saint mleux was seen last night leaving a restaurant alongside singer songwriter y/n y/l/n, who was recently connected to leclerc as having had a secret romantic fling together. what do you think is going on here?

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user75 oh my god

user76 WHAT???

user77 shit's about to get crazy 💀

user78 WHAT DID HE DO

user79 lando in the likes???

user80 y/n's biggest fan lol

user81 he's so real

user82 wtf are they talking about bro

user83 y/n stealing charles' new gf she's real

user84 im on board with this new friendship

user85 someone spill the tea RIGHT NOW im desperate oh my god

ynupdates

liked by lilyzneimer, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

ynupdates y/n seen out last night in PARIS with lando norris. don't know what to think. head = empty.

view all comments

user86 what

user87 what

user88 WHAT?

user89 why is half the grid and their wags in the likes

user90 hello?

user91 what's happening

user92 IM SO CONFUSED Y/N PLEASE SPEAK PLEASE

user93 they're just friends, right?

user94 😂 yeah.

user95 charles found dead

user96 girl i need answers im foaming at the mouth

ynupdates you and me both

user97 FREE USSSSS

user98 so much has happened the past few months but im just even more confused than ever

liked by yourusername

user99 WHY DID SHE LIKE THIS

user100 @.yourusername you lurker

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, and others

yourusername look at this godforsaken mess that you made me 😊😊😊

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lilyzneimer 🧡

liked by yourusername

user101 HELLOOO??!?!!

mclaren good sweater choice!

landonorris i second this

oscarpiastri i third it

yourusername 😭😭

user102 what's going onnn

user103 new mclaren wag jus droppeddd

liked by landonorris

user104 i feel like this is confirmation that charles and alex are over.....

liked by yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux

user105 THEM LIKINGGG

user106 not the comment section lurking i cant cope

alexandrasaintmleux most beautiful mess in the world

yourusername oh, you 🥹

user107 she's real for this....

user108 charles is crying i think

user109 SHE WONNNNN

user110 need answers but im happy she's happy

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wonryllis · 9 months ago

Text

candy, you're like a drug (m) | sim jaeyun.

PREVIEW. where jake teaches you how to blow him behind the bleachers just before his soccer practice, unable to resist the charm of you in a cheerleader outfit. well it's not like he has to resist you anymore, you are finally officially his girl.

FEATURING. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader(candy) from WATERMELON SUGAR . . this can absolutely be read as a standalone but i would still suggest giving the full fic a read, if you like this.

WORD COUNT. 3140 edited but don't come at me.

WARNINGS. SMUT MDNI!!!!! blowjob obviously, face fucking, dacryphilia, corruption kink, handjob, reader's a crybaby kinda, pussy rubbing but brief, mentions of eating pussy, voyeurism slightly, jake's mind is literally a museum of dirty thoughts about you. he's way too obsessed with you, he swears a lot and cums a lot, hand in hand. jake is real sweet trust. psst! sunghoon thrid wheeling oh. and that's all i think? idk if it's good i hope y'all like it!

★ YEONIE NOTES. this took so long im sorry guys, pls enjoy and leave comments and feedback i'd love to know your thoughts and yes im still open to doing more drabbles for them!

cheerleader… not a bad idea, you could definitely make use of it

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

. .

“you okay baby? do your knees hurt too much?” he asks once it settles in that you are doing this here and right now. heart pounding against his ribs so hard, he feels it ringing in his ears. his eyes cast down to the place your knees meet the rough ground and he internally grimaces and scolds himself for letting your soft skin scrap against dirt like this.

“let me just put this down f’ you,” taking off his varsity jacket immediately, he spreads two fold on the ground, pressing his hands on it to make sure it's cushioned enough for you. being glad of the fact that he hadn't taken the jacket off for the practice before you came to give him the surprise.

you smile sweetly at his actions, moving onto the jacket and letting your knees rub against the same cloth you watched him wash just yesterday. his precious jacket that he always took extra care of.

“so? how do i do it?” jake’s eyes quiver, orbs darkening as the lust takes over. blood rushing down quick at the dirty insinuation behind the innocent words that leave your mouth. drunk on the way you already seem so into it.

“take it out first,” he tries not to falter and just moan his heart out when you already jump at pulling his pants and boxers down before he's even finished speaking. holding his breath while he watches you watch his cock slap against his lower abs and then reach out to gently grasp it. mouth instinctively slacking open when he twitches in your grip and slowly bringing him close. a wet smooch at the tip that makes his whole body shudder and release a thick glob of precum, confusing you if he just came, your eyes instantly shooting up to look at him to which he just nods his head telling you to go on. put it in your mouth. his gaze speaks, air dense with anticipation.

“go on baby⁠— fuckkkkk oh god,” fuck fuck fuck, it feels way too good, cock laying heavy against your hot tongue, the softness of your mouth inside feeling like a tight pouch of warmth engulfing him in the most pleasurable way possible.

“just s-suck on it like your lollies,” jake groans, uttering the words through his clenched teeth. just a minute into you trying to give him head and he already feels like busting a nut. god how long has he dreamt of this exact moment and how many times. how many dreadful nights of fisting his cock imagining it was your tiny warm mouth around him, sucking him hard and sloppy like you do with those watermelon lollipops all the damn time in front of him. those torturing times, oh he can't believe he survived it to actually know what it feels like to be inside your mouth.

his hair sticks to his forehead, feeling the sweat drip as he breathed hard with every experimental suck. hands reaching down to push the strands of hair that fall forwards away from your face. thumb caressing your the skin under your eyes as you look up and into his brown orbs. holding eye contact with a dazed doe look that drives him crazy. the touch of your small hands stroking what you can't seemingly fit inside, lips always coming back to suck on his tip, like slurping dripping candy. he felt crazed, insane, and lunatic for still craving so much more of you.

“yeah fuck candy, just like that,” he pants, head tilting back as he gasps for air, everything around him tuning out at the realization of having you on your knees for him.

“shit!” the sudden feeling of you gagging around him after trying to take him all in makes jake jerk forward in a shudder.

it doesn't take him another second to decide that, that's it. he can't control himself anymore and absolutely needs to fuck your mouth, push so deep into your throat it leaves the imprints of his cock and make you so cock drunk all you ever think about when you gulp is him him and just him.

“push my thighs if gets too much—” one of his hands thread into your hair in a makeshift half pony to hold your head firmly and the other squeezing below his tip hard to hold himself from nutting before he gets to the real thing, wanting to drag this out even though he knows sooner or later someone will come searching for him, noticing the quaterback’s absence the moment one pays a tad bit of attention.

jake has never been the one to skip practice and especially not for something indecent like this. being late is not in his veins and keeping his varsity duffle bag at the stark front of the bleachers; his all time habit, always eager to make his presence and determination known. so the fact that he can't be spotted anywhere in the field with his bag resting exactly where it is every time, is more than enough of a reason to have the whole team searching around for him. however, in all honesty, you being an exception to all of jake's rules(as it has always been) all he hopes for is not being caught no matter how much the thought of it arouses him. he can't let people see this pretty you. wanting to gatekeep you to the very last bits. hence, this blowjob is way more important, and practice and his team can just wait a few extra minutes.

he starts off slow at first, thrusting careful and steady, to let you adjust to it. ten, nine, eleven, eleven, trying to count sheep in his head not to lose his cool too quick. shit shit shit, it's okay, it's all good.

it works for a while, even if his counting is fucked over like him, it works for a short fleeting while. maybe a minute or two or three, he has no idea but it's too brief of a time to be called as holding back.

he takes one look at you. just one look, at the way you already seem to be struggling, drooling all around him with your doe eyes all wide and teary, a few drops slipping out with each thrust of him. you are a crybaby for sure and maybe it would've annoyed him if it were someone else but come on it's you. he already imagined you to be a crybaby and god did it turn him on beyond expectation, though he didn't think you'd actually be one, and he definitely never thought he'd love it so so much when you cried for him. eyelashes wet and batting at him, doing whatever it takes to keep your eyes open and trained on him.

if he knew it was because the first time you fucked, he asked you to keep your eyes on him and you thought he liked it when you did it, hence forcing your hooded eyes to stay on him right now.. jake would lose his mind into the depths of hell and into the sins of lust.

the whimper you let out when his cock hits the back of your throat makes him buck his hips forward once, and at realization of how you're struggling and yet not pushing him away because you want it just as much as him, his grip on your head tightens before he starts thrusting frantically like a madman. albeit, at the back of his subconscious he's still holding back, knowing you're not yet ready to handle his true lost self.

“i swear, you're trying to kill me,” his voice strains with the amount of moans and groans he held back all time to make sure people don't find him.

back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. jake's hips fall into a rhythm of their own as he swears out all the curses known to mankind at the back of his mind. feeling so good, it makes him question if all the sex he had until you was actually some real sex or just some otome simulation he played.

there's no way something as simple as this and something where he has to be sane enough to hold his demons in check could feel so damn ecstatic.

his eyes shut tight at the feeling of his orgasm creeping in quick. not wanting to overwhelm you by coming deep inside your throat, yet not being able to stop the frenzied thrusts: desperate and erratic. fucking you had him fighting demons but having your mouth on him also has him fight demons, though a level lower, but feeling like his life would be sucked out of him.

and if there's anyone who he'd actually let sucking his life out of him, it'd be you. one whine of his name and he'll fold to give you his cock anytime and anywhere.

“fuck candy, ‘m so close,” jake's strokes falter into sloppy movements when you suck in your lips to squeeze him tighter showing no signs of pushing at his thighs and just letting him hold your head in place and use you as he pleases.

just as he feels the first twinge of coming undone, jake quite literally forces himself out, gritting his teeth and holding his breath as he pulls away mumbling out a rough fuck while staggering in his steps.

“jerk me off, wanna finish on your face, wan to paint your pretty little cheeks and your cute little tongue with my cum,” he mutters, guiding one of your hands to his cock as one of his own moves to hold your jaw and squeeze your cheeks to keep your mouth open. thumb rubbing against your lower lips while he bites his own at your hands returning to stroke him like you did before. brows furrowing and heart thumping loud as his orgasm builds up again.

he's gonna cum so much and jake knows because it starts to hurt. and like the masochist he is, he heightens it by bringing his other hand to hold his cock over your small slick ones,”twist it like this under the head,” he says squeezing and moving his hands in twists to show you just how he likes it. and lord do you get it so well, twisting harshly just under the head like he said and then pulling at it. it's honestly a mysery to jake how he's lasted this long and not just cum in the first two minutes of you touching him. perhaps his experience comes to some use, but then even his experience can't help him from nutting in just merely twenty minutes. the time he so struggled to calculate just a couple seconds before he lets the pleasure take over and the hot spurts of cum shoot out on your tongue and all over your face.

“mhmmm fuck baby fuckkkk—” jake hisses, biting down on his lips hard as his whole body spasms with pleasure, ropes of cum spilling out the tip, pushing his hips in quick thrusts into your fist.

and even though jake has perhaps sworn a million times that he's not a voyeur, that he does not feel his entire being ascending into the holy sins at the prospect of being watched with you, especially anyone besides him, watching you, he swears he has sworn on it a good damn gazallion times. yet when he spots a boggled and overwhelmed sunghoon, gaping and gawking in the corner, the intrigue and hunger in his obscure gaze evident along with his obvious boner; jake feels a second orgasm coaxed out of him in another spurt of cum that lands directly on that spot on your lips he loves to rub his fingers over.

fuck. that's all jake can think of watching sunghoon realize he was caught and immediately rushing off. since when was that prick watching? he better not have gotten a look at your teary eyes and heard the little whines you let out.

he doesn't let it bother him too long though, he'll deal with it when he gets back to the field.

what he now wants to focus on is you and only you.

running his thumb over the splashes of cum and smearing them on your lips, inserting his fingers into your mouth and telling you to suck before he's pulling you up by your waist and holding you tight against him. his cock rubs against the fabric of your skirt, twitching with sensitivity at the touch but he pays it no mind. his own lips hovering over yours as he speaks in a whisper,”are you okay? did i hurt you somewhere?”

you shake your head in denial and jake heaves a sigh of relief, proceeding to tame your hair back to how it was before. palms caressing your head softly, and fingers threading through the strands all gentle and slow. not wanting this moment with you to end. his lips lock with yours in the midst of it as his hands fall down to your waist again. kissing with so much fervor and desperation, it makes you rub your thighs together to get some kind of a friction. and jake notices it for his hand had moved to play with the ends of your short skirt, knuckles loosely brushing against the back of your thighs that fidgeted every time he sucked on your tongue or nibbled on your lips.

“oh, my baby seems bothered,” pulling away to whisper it against your lips that chase his own for more.

“what do you want? tell me and i’ll give it to you,” jake grins, watching you struggle out of embarrassment,”come on candy, use your words,” it's so cute, should he just touch you or should he take his time cooing at your fumbling self.

“w- want yo—”

“well since you aren't gonna say it,” he picks up his jacket from the ground and brings it up to your face to wipe off his cum from your cheeks. pushing against the plump of your skin to make your lips pout out and one of your eyes close.

“want you to touch me too,” you whine.

“where baby? you gotta tell me,” he teased further, booping your nose before putting his jacket back on him.

“here,” jake’s breath hitches when you guide his hand down to touch you over your panties, the fabric so damn wet you might as well have cum untouched. the prospect of that being true turns him on beyond what's humanely possible. you cumming untouched while he fucked your mouth, god the thought of it makes him crazy. but thinking back on how sunghoon wandered in, it's better to leave it at this for now. can't have more people getting the opportunity to see you.

“here? my baby wants me to touch her pussy?” there's so much more he wants to say, but he knows if he says it now there's no way he won't be getting rock hard again and completely ditching practice.

his fingers press hard into your folds while he rubs around, his other hand squeezing your ass and his face buried in your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he bites and nibbles on the skin there.

“i’m sorry candy, but you'll have to wait until after practice. want to take my time eating you out. want to make you cum at least three times,” and make you squirt, he wants to add but man does the thought of it make his dick twitch, speaking it out loud would just make him squirt a pump of cum.

he slips his fingers inside to gather your wetness, sliding two fingers between your folds before taking it out and putting them into his mouth,"fuck, love the way you taste,”he groans. his favorite candy in the world. his drug, candy.

jake spends another minute rubbing you over your slick panties and letting his other hand on your ass move all over and grope you wherever he can. he makes sure it's just enough to have you craving his touch the entire time you wait. feeling jealous over the thought that having you wait for him by the bleachers would give sunghoon a view of you too. and knowing his friend, he probably won't have any innocent thoughts about you after what he walked into.

“come on now let's go,” it takes a great deal of self constraint for jake to pull away but alas it will only be fruitful once he gets through practice and has all the time in the world to pleasure you.

he helps you fix your appearance and dusts off his jacket and pulls up his pants before he leads you back out into the field where everyone waited for him.

“wait for me here,” he says, bringing you to his bag where he takes off his ‘thisisneverthat’ shirt to put on his jersey with a smug grin lacing his lips. placing his jacket on your lap to cover your pretty legs, if he could he would just burrito you with a blanket and th— no sim that's creepy.

“I'll be back before you know it,” bending down to place a chaste kiss on lips and forehead, he promises. jogging away to the middle of the field and taking his position beside sunghoon. it feels like there's a spark of tension between them from what you catch, but perhaps you're just thinking too much, they're good friends aren't they?

TAGLIST. @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @jaklvbub @kwiwin @brachives @jayhoonvroom @haelahoops @aaa-sia @lovingvoidgoatee @txtlyn @jakehooni @mnxnii @rikisly @notevenheretbh1 @yunjinsbbg @pjsfvs @yizhoutv @enhyven @capri-cuntz @heeseungsbabyy @aishigrey @wooziswife @citylightsdoll @yeonzzzn @istphanie @chaewonshoney @cha0thicpisces @laurradoesloveu @bambammtori @wonsbaer @ayyysweetcreature

#NASTY JAKE MAKES A COMEBACK!#enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #k-labels #enhypen jake smut #jake smut #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #WATERMELON-SUGAR:CONTINUED #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles

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mentally-gone002 · 6 months ago

Text

pretty genius boy

summary: spencer gets a haircut!

a/n: i am obsessed with jesus spencer and boyband spencer so… i decided to do a little fic abt him because he’s my husband (im delulu)

————————————————————————

the front door to mine and spencer’s apartment opened, signaling that he was home.

he was earlier than expected.

and so was i.

i kept washing the few dishes that were left in the sink, blowing at a strand of hair that tickled my face when it grazed my cheek with my lips drawn to the side without looking up as spencer wandered into my line of sight, greeting me with a quick “hey” that caught my attention. he wasn’t looking at me, but at a file from work in his hands.

when i looked up i dropped the glass in my hand and then flinched when it hit the sink basin with a loud thud. “oh, my god!” i raised my voice is shock. “your hair!”

he flinched at the glass thudding into the sink and then pursed his lips into a smile. “yeah,” he nodded. “what about it?”

i scoffed, abandoning my chore with soap still clinging and dripping from my hands. “what about it?” i reiterated. “spencer… you chopped it all off!” i reached him and we stood toe to toe and i was craning my neck to see his new haircut. he looked very different.

he frowned a little. “is that bad?”

i shook my head quickly to make his frown disappear. “no, no, it’s just… i thought someone broke in at first glance.” i stifled a laugh, reaching a soapy hand to his hair. “give me an hour and i’ll tell you how i feel about it.”

spencer nodded, laughing gently to himself at how i was looking at him. “okay.” he leaned down to my height and kissed my forehead. “i missed you.”

“i missed you too.” i smiled into the second long contact. “and i miss your hair!” i frowned.

he smiled. “it was too hot.”

“you’re right.” i agreed with my arms crossing over my chest.

“i think you misunderstood the correct meaning of the word ‘hot’ in this context.” spencer told me.

i whined. “stop being so… genius. let me mourn the loss of your beautiful hair.”

spencer rolled his eyes. “okay. you mourn, i’m gonna go shower.”

i nodded and watched him disappear into our bedroom before walking back to the kitchen. i dried my hands and grabbed my phone, dialing penelope’s number.

“hello my lovely!” she answered the phone in the same cheerful manner she always does. “what’s up?”

“spencer got a haircut.” i told her.

she gasped, already intrigued. “what’s it look like? please tell me it’s not bad.”

i laughed. “it’s not bad it’s just… i wasn’t expecting it at all when he came home. it’s so short.”

“how short are we talking?” she asked.

i hummed. “think like… harry styles from one direction, but less fluffy.”

the woman squealed over the phone. “oh, reid has a boyband haircut!” i could hear her typing quickly before she stopped, there was silence and then she giggled.

“what’s so funny?”

“i can’t wait to see his hair! he always has good haircuts. and if it’s anything like harry styles i’m going to go insane.”

i laughed. “i told him to give me an hour to get used to it. i like it when it’s long because i can braid it.”

she gave me a pitiful ‘awe’ and then asked, “do you think he’ll grow it back out?”

i hummed. “have you seen all the haircuts he’s had over the last few years? he never sticks to one for too long.”

penelope agreed with a simple hum as i started walking towards our bedroom. “i’m gonna go, just wanted to update you on the ever changing plot of my life.” i chuckled, seeing the bathroom door adjoined to our bedroom open slightly.

“i enjoy the updates. say hi to boy genius for me!”

“i will.” i laughed and then hung up the phone prior to pulling the bathroom door wider for my entrance and then pushing it partially closed again. spencer was hidden behind the dark olive green shower curtain but that didn’t stop me from peeking around it to stare at him.

his back was to me but i still focused on his wet hair that was a few shades darker and the smallest sight of muscle definition over his back.

maybe i didn’t need an hour for his short hair to grow on me.

i withdrew my head from the shower curtain and left the bathroom, smiling to myself with the fond thought of him in my head.

i went back to the kitchen to finish the dishes and by the time i was done spencer was back in the room with me, a tee shirt covering his chest and sweatpants covered his legs.

“hi.” he rounded the island in the kitchen to stand beside me at the sink, back to the counter. he looked down at me with the same kind eyes he always had.

i smiled and shut off the running water so that i could move and stand between spencer’s legs. “hi.” i studied his messy towel dried hair prior to reaching up and touching some of the strands, twirling them between my fingers, then letting my hand slide down to touch his face. i looked into his eyes before saying, “i know it hasn’t been an hour, but it’s grown on me.” a smirk slipped over my lips as he grinned as well.

“i knew you wouldn’t need an hour.” he teased lightly, leaning down to capture my lips with his for a brief second.

i scoffed. “how did you know?”

“i’m a profiler, honey.” he reminded.

i nodded gently, sighing contently. “ah, yes. i forgot.” my smile reflected my teasingly feigned innocence that spencer smiled at. “but seriously, i love it. it suits you, and you’re as handsome as ever.” i winked, smiling widely. spencer kissed me again. i could feel how his lips curled into a grin. “pretty genius boy.”

spencer tucked his head into my neck. i knew he was smiling.

i put my fingers in his now short hair, loving how easy it was to comb my fingers through it now.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid scenario #criminal minds #penelope garcia

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rafeandonlyrafe · 11 months ago

Text

gamers

words: 800

warnings: vague descriptions of video game violence and gore, established relationship

“is it scary? i don't wanna play if it's scary.” you pout as rafe places the controller into your hand.

“ill protect you, promise.” rafe says, reaching over to flick the lamp on the side table on, that way more than just the light from the tv is illuminating the room.

“fine, but you can't get mad at me if i get your character killed.” you watch as rafe navigates the game easily, opening it up to the character customization screen, just doing default settings for himself.

“oh my god, im gonna make my girl look so cute!” you gush, taking your time to carefully choose her hair and outfit, even though none of the options are stylish, you create the best look you can out of the post apocalyptic clothing choices.

rafe doesn't care that he has to sit and wait for you to perfect your character, not when he finally got you to agree to play with him.

“okay, done.” you nod as you choose a pair of pink sneakers, practical but still cute. “so what's this game all about? just running from zombies?”

“basically.” rafe says with a light chuckle. “we gotta get to the safe house for this round. just follow me, gonna pick up some weapons.”

you pick up the hang of the controls easily, concentrating on the tv as rafe drops a knife and gun for character to use to protect yourself just in case.

“this isn't so bad.” you hum, pausing to admire the scenery in the background of the game, mountain peaks poking up into the sky. “where are all the zombies?”

“they give you a few minutes to get weapons before the storms start.” rafe says, eyes scanning the screen as you head into a building, rafe knows there's med packs in there that he will need when he sustains damage keeping your character safe.

“storms? that sounds scary rafe.” you scooch so you’re closer to your boyfriend. “and it's getting dark.”

it's already dark outside your actual window, but you can tell that it's getting darker in the game as well, the sun setting as you follow rafe down the desolate street, crashed cars and trash strewn about just like if it was a real apocalypse.

“here they come!” rafe warns, clicking the buttons quickly as his character shoots at the zombies moving slowly towards you. your eyes widen upon seeing the gore, cringing and turning to hide your face in rafes shoulder once your character is hidden behind a stopped car.

“i don't like this rafey!” you whine once the gunfire stops, peeking up to see a literal pile of dead zombies. “it's scary.”

“i know, but i kept you safe, didn't i? we are almost done with the first level, just gotta get to the safe house then we can take a break, okay?” rafe offers, keeping his eyes on the screen but turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek.

“fine.” you groan. you like playing games with rafe, but your preference is him watching you dress your sims or decorate their houses after using a cheat to get them more money, only wanting your sims to have the best furniture.

you navigate your character to follow him down the sidewalk, occasionally stopping to kill the zombies. you even manage to shoot a couple.

“wait, baby, be careful.” rafe warns. “dont go that way.”

but his warning comes too late as a zombie jumps out of a dumpster that you’re standing directly next to, making you scream as it takes up your entire screen, not just attacking your character but also jumpscaring you.

“i got you, hold on.” rafe is pressing the sprint button as hard as he can, as if that can somehow make his character get to you faster. rafe manages to kill the zombie before it has the chance to bite you.

your chest is heaving up and down like you were the one to get attacked. “come on, the safe house is just around the corner.” rafe wraps an arm around your shoulder, using one hand on the controller until you’re both behind the barbed wire fence, the game switching to a cutscene.

“i hate this.” you look to rafe with a pout on your face. “can we play stardew valley instead? please?”

rafe sighs. he should have known better than having you play with him. you are extremely adverse to any sort of shooting game. “yeah, sure.” rafe saves his progress, just in case he can convince you to play with him again before switching to stardew valley and handing you the main controller.

“yesss, thank you.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes cheek as your character wakes up. “you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“you just say that because you need me to go into the mines for you.” rafe says with a laugh.

“well, its scary!”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh

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notlhecxzsa · 6 months ago

Text

Hidden Love - Scarlett Johansson

Warnings: Very very angsty (only in the start), very mean Scarlett (she gets better, I promise! little miss doesn't know how to handle her feelings ≧⁠▽⁠≦), death, very sad reader, almost drowning

Sum: How can a cold hearted CEO handle her newfound feelings towards one of her employees? Will it be wonderful or a disaster? (This is 8889 words, oh god)

CEO!Scarlett JohanssonXFem!Reader

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°

Y/n's POV:

"Don't worry, Ma. I'll try to send you more money than usual, just rest and do what the doctor's says, okay?" I said on the phone with gentle voice to my mother.

I only have my mother, and unfortunately, she was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer. I never knew my dad, and i didn't really grew up having everything i want, and well, need. My mother needed to work 24 hours, and only having a payment that is good for our 2 days food, but she's so strong and determined, that even that's our life situation, i managed to finish my school.

Now, im working, trying to work hard enough to have enough money to take my mother in a chemotherapy, i've been actually saving up for it, and for her operation, which is not really doing well.

She has so many supplements needed that is already half of my payment, and i still have so many bills to pay, from my rent payment, to my electric and water bills, same goes to the house of my mother that she currently lives in right now.

I'm working at J.Corp, short term for, Johansson's Corporation, i work here from 6 in the morning, then to 7 in the evening, then after that, i have my shift to a convinient store from 8 in the evening, to 3 in the morning. Sometimes i don't really eat in order to save enough money, because i really want my mother to go to therapy already.

She's all i have left, and what more could i lose if i lost her too?

"Don't worry about me, darling. I promise you, i will be just fine. Don't forget to eat, okay? Take care of yourself." She said her voice lacing with the comfort that i missed everyday.

"Yes, i know Ma. I'll try to go there when i have enough money-" I was cut off when the voice of my boss rang through the air from the intercom.

"Y/l/n."

I rolled my eyes before bidding my goodbye to my mother, telling her that I'll just call her back later.

Ughh, what does she needs right now?

It's already break time, that means no work. I only hope she's just calling me right now for another free food, because if not, hell will lose.

My work here in this company has ups and down, well, the downs are mostly caused by my very own boss, Scarlett Johansson. I don't know what i did to that woman, because there's not a day where she wouldn't yell at me for completely nothing, or just gives me tons of works, that i know, is supposed to be for the others to work on.

The ups are because of my friends, well, sometimes, it's caused by Ms. Johansson too though. She's just so random sometimes, like in first, she would act all devil to me as if i did something very horrible to her, then the next, she's inviting me to have a lunch with her, sometimes dinner in a very expensive restaurants, which is im very grateful for, but it's all just confusing.

I mean, why me of all people that is on this building, that is probably much more worth her time?

She always manages to get in my nerves, but in all those bad things she does to me, i can't helo but catch feelings for the woman because of every little kind things and gestures she do to me, which i probably found weird, like...she's always mean to me and all, but i mean...she's beautiful, and sometimes can be such a gentlewoman, that so many people here has a crush on her.

But, i always just take those feelings and thoughts aside. Because, well, she always -not just being mean to me- but sometimes, she get on my nerves that it hurts my feelings already, but all i did is to listen to her hurtful words towards me, while wondering what i did wrong.

It's just all exhausting and very rude of her, that sometimes i just find myself crying in the dark while walking to the convinient store. I already have so many problems, and she still adds up, confusing me and hurting me mentally, and it just gets all to much.

But, even if i want to quit already, i can't. This work is what gives me money to survive and help my mother, ofcourse i wouldn't waste it even if i have to go through hell in the process.

"Come in." I heard her say from the other side of the door.

"Yes, Ms. Johansson?" I asked while looking at her, standing just beside the door.

She looked up at me with a stone cold face, she looked at me up and down, almost looking like she's judging every part of like that made me shrink on where i am standing.

I just only hope for one thing, for her to not yell and shout at me, because dude, i am not really having a very good day. I still haven't eaten breakfast, or even lunch, and it's now dinner time, and im trying so hard not to feel weak because i still my have my shift in the convinient store. Then my mom, and...just all.

The payments of the bills will be coming next week, along with my mother's, and thank god, my payment here will be given to me tommorow. That's why i didn't eat, i will just buy more food tommorow.

"Did you already eat?" She asked.

This is what im talking about the small kind gestures of hers, that i don't even know she do with everyone here in the company, or it's just me.

"I-i uhh- i still didn't, Ms. Johansson." I said with my head hung down. I heard her stand up abruptly, then i heard papers scattering around.

"Did you ate lunch?" I shook my head. "Breakfast?" I shook my head.

"Oh come on, for fuck sake, Y/n! We've already talked about this, didn't we? Don't act like a child wanting to be reminded on when to eat, because none of us here want your burden. We can't just have you collapsing out of nowhere because you didn't ate like last time."

And this is what i said about her, being mean and rude and evil and bad, and just all the worse things you can think of.

"I - im sorry, Ms. Johansson..." I heard her click her tounge, before her footsteps walked near me.

"Come with me, let's eat dinner together." I heard her say, before completely walking past me.

"But, Ms. Johansson, i still have a lot of paperworks to do-" I was cut off by her.

"Shut up and just follow me, Y/n." She said with her usual cold tone.

I sighed defeatedly before running after her, stopping at my desk and quickly getting my back. I just followed her like a puppy until we're in her car, and being the 'gentlewoman' that she is, she opened the door for me.

What she said earlier was true, i blacked out because of hunger and stress, but i just told her that i was so busy, because well, im too shy to tell her my life condition, i don't want her judging me when she's always doing it everyday, i can't handle it anymore if she used my life situation to say mean things to me.

I stayed silent the whole drive, fiddling with my fingers as i did so, and occasionally glancing at her. Her jaw are tensed, all of her are tensed. I always try to act all brave, but in inside, i get scared of her sometimes, that i caught myself flinching at the small sounds that i would hear everywhere.

The dinner, well it was silent too, but speaking of the little gestures she do to me, she did what she usually does, cutting the hard pieces of food for me, and literally flooding the table and my plate with tons of foods.

"Your work time is already over, I'll get you home." She said as she started the car.

"Oh- uhm, actually, can you drop me off at the convinient store but the street after your building?" I asked and she looked at me, frowning.

"You're still working there?" She spat out, making me look down, avoiding her burning gaze. "Didn't i told you to quit working there already? You're living all by yourself, you didn't need to work there too, to survive for the living..."

I do, Scarlett. Unfortunately, i fucking do.

"No wonder why you always pass me late paperworks." She said, and i can see in my peripheral vision that she's shaking her head.

All i wanna do is to cry as she drive the car. How can she say those things to me when she doesn't even know what and how my life is like?

"Thank you, for the dinner." I said once we stopped infront of the store.

"Just get out." She said without even sparing me a glance.

"Bye, drive safely." I muttered before getting out, once i was out, she drove almost instantly.

I felt tears brimmed out of my eyes, but quickly wiped it and shook my head while taking a deep breaths.

It's okay. It's going to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~

No one's POV:

"Bye, drive safely." Scarlett heard the soft tone of the woman she loves for 3 years.

It's hard to love Y/n in the dark, and be a devil when she's infront of the woman as if she didn't fantasize about Y/n walking down the aisle as she waited on the altar, or having a multiple kids with the younger girl and just living the best life with her.

"Just get out." Scarlett internally cringed and cursed herself for sounding so mean.

Every mean words that would come out of her mouth to Y/n's ear, she would immediately feel guilty and get completely mad at herself.

As much as she wants to be kind and apologize to the poor girl already, she can't just risk it. All of it. She scared and terrified that if ever they got more closed, then Scarlett might no be able to control herself and be all obsessed with Y/n. And she's too traumatized at her past relationship, that it gets in her head when she thinks of having Y/n as her girlfriend.

What if she got hurt again? Or what if she hurt the most genuine person she knows? The only woman who she truly love for all her life. As much as it's a very idiotic thing for her to do those things to the pure woman, she just can't help but do it.

Not that it makes her happy or anything in the latter, but it's most likely just her way of having Y/n's attention, because whenever she'd alone at her, she gets to have Y/n all for herself. She's just so stubborn to makes everything easy and better with her relationship with Y/n.

She knows she's being shit and all, and that anytime, she might lose her girl, but this is the only way she can think of to do, due to what she had been through her life, not just her past relationship.

She don't even have any idea why Y/n is still working for her. But, this time, with the help of her friend's -Lizzie's- words, she knows that this gotta stop soon. Which is her goal. She's just trying to find the courage, and the right words to say, and hoping that she will not gonna be too late for that.

She loved you from the moment you walked through her office door, she's just too scared to admit it to herself, and as days and months passed, she found herself being wrapped up around you finger.

She knows what she's doing is sometimes getting out of line, but due to her stress and on what she's been through, that's just kind of her things, which is not good, but she will surely change it, not just for herself, but especially for you, and you only.

"You gotta stop treating Y/n like that, she's the kindest person i know, and she doesn't deserve to be treated anything like that, Scarlett."

She still remembers Lizzie's words in her mind like it's tattooed there already. But, not to worry, she'll be asking for your forgiveness soon enough, and she'll do everything, even if she needs to get on her knees and kiss your feet.

All i well and peaceful as she sit on her desk chair, listing everyone who she will be paying for tommorow, and you're one of those people, she figured that maybe, this is gonna be a good timing to apologize to you, she can just order you to come to her penthouse that is on the top floor of this building and tell you that she'll give you the money there, then she'll apologize.

That's a good idea, right? Right.

A ding from her phone caught her attention, she immediately clicked the message of one of her men's, that she hired to watch over you. Yeah, she's too possessive like that.

Anger immediately rose inside her body, as the apologies she's planning to do faded in her mind like bubbles. It's a video of you, being held by a man she knows all to well. It's the man that is always hugging you from every video her men's sends her, who is also your co worker at the store.

She doesn't want to think things too fast, but she just can't help but thought of what's your connection with that man. She once asked you about your love life and you said you're single, but this man keeps making her think otherwise.

Anger, jealousy and all rose inside her body, until all of it filled her up completely.

Maybe she can just do the apologies in another day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n's POV:

Today is the day im gonna have my payment.

After a whole breakdown last night at the store, i am feeling very well right now, thanks to my a good friend of mine, Max, he's a boy. He's very kind enough to comfort me and even walked me home, things like that are normal to us, plus, i would trust him with my life, not that because he's my friend, but because i know he won't take advantage of me or anything because he's very gay.

I'm now walking towards to Ms. Johansson's office, instantly warning at the lack of seeing people on the way. Usually, when it's the day of paying off, so many people would be scattering around her, but now? It's dead silence, only the sound of silent conversing, and the typing on keyboards. I was gonna knock on the door already, but i was stopped when Samantha called me out.

"Y/n! Hey! Ms. Johansson said you'll be receiving your payment up there." I frowned instantly.

"Are you guys have been payed already?" I asked, turning my whole body to her.

"Yeah, you didn't know? She sent us all a messages saying that we need to go here earlier than usual..." She explained unsurely.

"No...she didn't...." I trailed of on my words.

I bid Sam a goodbye and said that im gonna go upstairs. I quickly ran towards the elevator with my heart pounding in my chest.

What if she's gonna give me my last payment because she'll gonna fire me now?

Oh god, oh god, oh god-

I was brought out of my trance when the ding of the elevator rung out, i quickly walk towards inside, trying to find a trace of Ms. Johansson, while calling her name. I soon stopped when i saw her laying at a pool bench, sunbathing with just a a piece swimsuit.

I blushed and looked down, trying to avoid her smooth and bright skin.

"Ms. Johansson." I made my presence known, and in my peripheral vision, i felt her looked up, then stand up, there's a movements came from her but i didn't looked up.

"Ms. Y/l/n..." I can hear her voice that she has a smirk. "You can look up now." And i did, and saw her in a robe.

"Ms. Johansson, im here to take my payment." I said politely, giving her a tight small smile, but it was soon turn into a frown when i saw her face fell.

"Ooh, that....right. Well, actually, Ms. Y/l/n, you wouldn't be receiving anything." I frowned, as i felt my heart fell.

"W-what? Why? W-what did i do?" I stammered, my heart is now hammering in my chest.

"What did you do? Why don't you think about the days i always yelled at you for failing almost all of the paperwork i gave you? Did you forget about all that already?" She said with a sadistic tone.

I avoided her gaze, instead i gaze forwards, which is enough to not see her eyes, since she's a lot taller than me.

"No, i didn't, Ms. Johansson. But, as far as i can remember, i already made all my mistakes right. And...not all the time of you, calling me in your office, was because i did something wrong." I can't help but let out that harshly than i intended it to be.

I really need that money, and there's no way i will get out here without that.

"Oooh, getting too confident now, are we, Ms. Y/l/n?" She said with a teasing tone.

I can't help but feel humiliated in our current situation, and it makes me feel so small that all i want to do is to die or just jump right off of this building.

"Ms. Johansson, please, i really need the money. I will do everything you'll say, just please..." I pleaded, maybe being too confident and fighting back would just make her not give it to me.

"Anything?" She asked, and i nodded.

"Anything." I said, looking up at her. I saw a glint in her eyes, but it was soon faded.

"This is what you want, right?" She waved the stack of dollar in the air with her hand, and i nodded, before widening my eyes at the next action she made.

"Then get it." She said as she throw the money to the large swimming pool she has here.

I don't know how to swim, my body turned cold, but the desperation got the best of me.

Without that money, i will not have the chance to pay my bills. I need that. Most importantly, my mother needs that.

"What are you waiting for?" I flinch at her voice, looking back up at her with tears in my eyes.

I felt so little, like a slave, and so poorly humiliated. My heart aches at the thought of someone, treating me like this. I know that she is much up there than me who is literally living like a stray puppy, but she has no rights to do this to me.

She is so evil.

I saw how her eyes changed its look, it's like she got taken back about something, but before she can even utter i look back at the deep swimming pool, where all the dollars are floating.

I took a deep breath, before swallowing the lump on my throat. I walk fastly to the pool, then jump, with one thing on my mind.

This is for my mother.

I heard her voice called me out, but i didn't cared, and tried my best to get all of the money, while trying to gasp for air everytime i came to the surface, only to realize that im literally in the middle of the pool.

With every jump from the bottom, i realized that im at the very deep, my movements became frantic as i felt myself losing so much oxygen, while i kept hearing her muffled voice screaming my name worriedly.

I already drank the water, and some went through my nose, i was gonna reach out for another dollar when i felt a strong big arms wrapped itself around me, and the next thing i know, i was gasping for air while holding the wet money in my hands tightly.

I hope my asthma doesn't attack me right now.

"What the fuck, Y/n? Why the fuck did you do that? You could've died!" She yelled and i flinch while still gasping, and looked at the pool to see that there's still left, i was gonna jump again, but her strong masculine arms caught me.

"Hey! Stop! Stop!" She yelled, trapping me completely in her arms.

I couldn't take it anymore, my chest is burning, along with the pain im feeling right now. I sobbed, and cried hard not caring of what her reaction will be.

"H-hey.." Her voice sounded as if she was being strangled.

"Get off of me..." I breathed out, i want to vomit, maybe because of the amount of water i drunk and i felt it hard to breathe. "T-there's still more...i-i n-need to get that...my-my m-mom needs i-it..." I stammered, my tone is completely broken.

"P-please...i-i need to get it.." I thrashed around her arms, but then she hugged me, completely trapping me in her arms.

"Hey, hey, darling...it's okay, you don't have to get that...shhh, shhh, im sorry, i-im sorry..." Even me, i couldn't recognize her voice.

I stopped thrashing around, but still continue to gasp for air, my cries and sobs filled through the air. I felt so helpless, so poor, humiliated, and very desperate.

I looked down at the money in my arms, avoiding the sweet nothings she kept whispering in my ears. Her voice sounded soft, it tweaks, and sometimes it breaks, like she's crying.

"I-it's still n-not enough..." I said breathlessly. "Get off of me." I demanded weakly. "Please, stop making it all so hard for me...please...i just wanted my money...please...i can't- i cant do this anymore." I whispered brokenly, trying to push her death grip on me.

She kept muttering an apologies, then comforting words, but all i felt towards her is hatred, madness and all the worse things to feel.

We stayed like that until i calmed down. I'm still breathing unevenly, and i know im having my asthma. I'm shaking and all, with my lips quivering as i sob quietly. I don't know what's happening to her as she's holding me tightly, while whispering apologies to me.

Out of nowhere she picked me up ever so gently, while still whispering that it's all gonna be okay, and she's so so sorry. With all the things that had happened, i felt so weak, so weak that i can't even open my mouth because of exhaustion, im still gripping the money that is in my hand.

She went inside her penthouse while still carrying me, both of my hand is on my chest, clutching it together as i still feel my chest tightening, then the side of my head is on her shoulder.

I felt so weak.

My body is still shaking, and I don't know how to stop it.

I felt so cold, and i know that im going to be sick for days.

Why does Scarlett have to be mean to me?

My lips wobbled at my thoughts, as a strangled sob came out of it.

"Shhh, im sorry, im sorry....stop crying already, baby. It hurts my heart to see you cry..." I'm too exhausted to even manage to think what she just said as the next thing i know is she put me on the bathtub.

"N-no...i wanna go home..." I protested weakly, shaking my head as i look at up at her, to see her already looking up at me.

"No, you'll stay here, you'll stay here. It's okay, im sorry please, stay here...stay here for now, please....let me just take care of you, yeah?" She pleaded making me frown at her attitude, but i shook my head.

"N-no...t-the money, i need i-" I was cut off by her.

"The money will be fine, sweetheart. I'm your boss, you'll do as i said." She demanded with a soft tone. I didn't utter a word anymore, then look down.

"Can you give me that for a second, love?" She pointed at the money in my hand, i opened my hand and she took it then out it on the table beside the little table beside the bathtub, but not before kissing my head and saying 'good girl'. Then she took my face with her hands, looking at me with the most softest look she's given me.

"Don't worry about the money, okay?" She asked softly, and i nodded.

"But, i need it.." I said.

"I know, but don't worry about it for now, okay? Clean yourself first- do you need any help?" She asked and i shook my head.

"Okay, im just gonna be right outside the bathroom, okay? I'll get you some clothes and there's a brush and extra towels there, okay?" She pointed at the drawer under the sink.

"Just call me if you need anything, okay?" I nodded once again, and she smiled a little before kissing my head, leaving a lingering kiss there that felt so different.

She left and i started cleaning myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scarlett's POV:

As soon as i close the bathroom door, i sighed, leaning my head against it.

Why did i do that? Fuck.

Everything felt so wrong, my heart shattered into pieces as the earlier moments ran through my mind once again. Just thinking of how desperate she was earlier to get the money hurt me in the most impossible way, and the thought of her, almost dying because of what i did, is slowly killing me. The look on her face, fuck. It's all plastered in the back of my head, and the scenes kept playing without a stop.

An idea came into my mind, i quickly get her some clothes first, which is probably gonna be too big for her, i put it outside the bathroom door, on the table beside it. Then, i quickly pulled out my phone, dialing Wanda, not before walking far away enough from the bathroom.

"Hey, Lizzie?" I asked.

"Hey, Scar. What's up?" She asked.

"I need you to do me a favor." I said, then get straight to the point.

I told her to do a background check on Y/n's personal life, and do everything to see what my girl's life is really like. Then i told her what had happened, which she scolded me for. I told her my plan on getting Y/n and then after that, she made me promised to not to do something bad to Y/n again, or she said, she'll steal the girl from me, which made me a little aggressive, and cursed her through the phone, then we said goodbye.

After the phone call, i felt presence behind me, making me look around and saw Y/n standing there, looking so adorable and pretty as ever. My clothes is so big for her, but it makes my heart melt at the sight. Though, my heart still aches because she wouldn't even look at me straight in the eyes.

"I- uh, im gonna take my money now, then go home." Her voice is raspy, i quickly made a move walking to the kitchen then getting a glass of water.

"Come here, please." I said softly, while pouring a water in the glass.

She looked at me for a second, and when she caught me staring at her she quickly looked down, before hesitantly walking towards the kitchen countertop.

"Take a seat." I said with soft voice.

Now's my only chance, well, if i still have.

I slide the glass towards her and told her to drink it, which she did, almost downing it in just a 10 seconds. I watch her every movements with longing eyes, as my heart shatter on how afraid she seemed infront of me. It took me everything in my power to not to let my tears fall of.

I knew, by the moment and scenes we had earlier, i knew i already went beyond the line, and i will stop it right here. No procrastinations anymore. I walked towards her and stop by here side until im just a few inches from her. My arms are aching to be wrapped around her, while i beg for forgiveness, which i know i don't deserve, but i can still try, right?

I saw how she became tensed, but still continue on infront of her at a black space. I see her hands that is on the table shaking a little, which breaks my heart a little more, and i see her chest heaved as she breath.

"Y/n..." I called out softly, with my voice slightly wavering. "Can you look at me, hun? Please?" I asked, as i raised my hands to touch her cheeks, but quickly stopped when i saw her flinch and shielded her hands infront of her face.

I can hear my heart shattering into pieces, goosebumps started to form on my skin. I couldn't help and stop the tears that brimmed out of my eyes as i look down at her.

"P-please...i just wanna go home with my money..." She whispered so brokenly.

"Y/n...." I breathed out, but she put her hands down while shaking her head, now looking at me.

"P-please, j-just give me my money, and I'll quit, y-you won't see me anymore, just please, let me go in peace. I can't take what you're doing to me anymore....i promise, I'll quit." She rambled, and my heart stopped at the words she said.

"You can hurt me all you want if that's what will get you to give me my money, do anything- everything you want, yell at me, hurt me, slap me, i-i don't care, just give me my money, please, my- my mother needs it..." She pleaded, with her hands clasped and her eyes full of tears while looking up at me.

Tears are now streaming down on my face, the look she's giving me now, and along with the words she's saying is breaking me apart.

"Stop saying those things, i-i would never hurt you, okay?" I demanded, my voice getting hard.

Why would she thought im gonna hurt her? I would never dare or even think about laying a finger on her.

Am i that bad to her, for her to think this way?

"...and i will never gonna shout at you again, okay?..." My hands seems to have their own mind as it unconsciously went to her soft cheeks, caressing it as soon as they landed on the soft skin. "I'm sorry, im really sorry, not just for the things that i did today, but for all the things i did to you. I-i i never meant any mean words that i told you, it's very hard to explain it right now, but i promise you, there's something behind those things on why i treated you like that. Just please, don't leave, okay? Don't quit on me, please...." I pleaded looking down at her as my thumb continued on caressing her cheeks.

She looked down, and let out a sob.

"But, im tired..." She breathed out brokenly. "I'm so tired." She sobbed out before looking at me with mixed emotions in her eyes.

"You don't know how much you always hurt me everyday by those mean words you say to me, you don't know h-how i feel when i would walked out of you office with my head down ashamed of how much they might've probably think of how idiot i am because everyday, you'll scream at me. You don't know how i felt so humiliated, so little with everything that you did to m-me. I hate you. I despise you." She whispered the last 2 sentence with full of hatred and dark tone.

I sobbed out, before pulling her in my arms, her head is on my chest, i hold her tightly as i sobbed while chanting an apologies. She kept pushing me, but i made no move on pulling away, that it seemed to might've got in her nerves as she weakly punched me in the chest repeatedly. She's too thin and small than me, so it's no use.

I always told her to eat, and always makes her come with me to eat, because i hate how she looked so malnourished.

Maybe, later the day, i hope to find out what her personal life is really like. I have a feeling that it's nowhere near the words of good life, because of how desperate she is on getting the money, but whatever it will be, i took a mental note on helping her with it, it doesn't matter if she would decline or not, because i will surely do anything to help her, and she can't stop me.

"I know, i know you hate me, it's okay, shhh...there you go, punch me, yell at me, do whatever you want, it's okay..." I said with gentle tone while still holding her tightly.

She kept thrashing around, but i just keep her in lock in my arms, while still whispering comforting words and apologies to her ear occasionally. Fortunately, soon enough, she calmed down.

She's sniffling, and coughing, and she's still shaking, making me feel very worried. I pour a water on the glass with my hand one, while the other is still holding her, then i give it to her.

"Can you drink this for me, darling?" I ask gently, she didn't do anything, so i asked once again.

"Please, drink this? You need to drink water, so you'll still gonna be hydrated." I said softly, and this time, she shook her head.

"I wanna go home..." I sighed defeatedly, i kissed her head and put the glass down.

I took her face with my one hand, pulling it towards me for her gaze to be on me. Her face has no emotions, but her eyes says it all. She's tired, exhausted, even. And i know it's my fault. Her eyes are bloodshot red, same goes to her nose, there's so many stained tears on her cheeks, just by looking at her face made me more mad at myself, and felt extremely more guilty.

"I'm gonna let you go home with your money, I'll even double it, but promise me you're not gonna quit. I mean, even if you really do consider it, i won't let you, but say it to my face that you won't quit, or else-" She cut me off.

"Or else what?" She asked.

"Or else you won't gonna get to step outside, and i will lock you in here." I said with my dominant voice, before silence elope around us.

"Why are you being like this to me?" She asked with the smallest voice, after a minutes of silence.

"Because, i like- love you. I love you, since the first day you walked through my office door, i didn't want to admit it to myself because im scared, but as months passed by, i fell more harder for you, and i-...i couldn't stop it anymore-" She cut me off, once again.

"Please, stop with the bullshit-" I frowned and immediately cut her off.

"Stop saying it's just a bullshit things , because it's not." I said with an offended tone.

"Because it is. How can you say you love me after all the things you have done to me? After how you treated me like shit, as if im just someone who's born to be treated like that?" She quickly interfered making me shut up.

I mean, i have my reasons, but i know deep inside me, it's not that even good enough and too reasonable to say.

I'm too lost in my thoughts because the next thing i know is she easily got out of my arms.

"I won't gonna quit, if you would just give me my money, and let me leave peacefully. And, please, if you really are sorry, stop treating me like an animal, and start treating me like a human." That broke my heart, knowing i really did already got beyond the line.

I was too stunned to speak as all i can do i to watch her her her things, and when she's done, she stopped infront of me. I snapped out of my thoughts, and told her to wait until i get the money. I quickly walk to my office, and took a couple stacks of dollars, that is probably 10x more than her usual payment, but i didn't care.

She frowned when i put it on her hands, then looked at me confusedly.

"It's all yours." I said, with a small smile.

"No, im not gonna accept this just because you pity me or anything." She said while giving me the other stacks, and keeping what is rightfully hers.

"No, you don't have to want it, but i insist. Please, just- just take it." I said, giving her the money, but she shook her head before stepping away from me.

"I don't need that, just give it to those who needs it the most." She said before completely walking away.

I tried to call her, but she just continue to walk until she stopped infront of the elevator. I stand up, running after her as she got in, she turned around and looked at me, tears are visible in her eyes.

"No." She said weakly, but i didn't stopped and continue walking towards the elevator.

"Stop!" She demanded, and i stopped.

I saw the elevator doors closing little by little, a lone tear made its way down on my face, just like hers, but hers are more.

"Y/n..." I called out unknowingly.

"Scarlett..." She quickly said with the same tone as me, as if we're greeting each other, but this one, we have a sad tone.

Soon enough, the elevator closed, i walked towards it completely, before throwing multiple hard punches on it. Tears are now completely streaming down my face, as her name longingly slipped out of my lips while i sob.

Did i lose my chances already?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No One's POV:

"Hey, guys- wait, where's my desk?" Y/n was supposed to greet her friend, but stopped mid way as she took notice of her missing desk.

"Oh god, thank god, you're here! We're gonna ask you the same thing!" Samantha exclaimed worriedly, as Gab nodded.

Y/n felt her heart pounding. What if she's been fired? I mean, there's some good things there, she won't gonna experience being with someone so evil, but she's not ready, by the way Scarlett acted yesterday, saying she won't let Y/n quit. So many thoughts run through her mind, as her friends waited for her answer, the raspy voice boomed from the intercom.

"Ms. Y/l/n, come to my office, please."

Surprisingly, Scarlett's voice is not that cold and scary, it's soft, warm, and she even used a please.

"Go, tell us what happened, okay?" Gab said, and Y/n nodded before turning to her heels and walking towards the office with so many thoughts running through her mind.

She knocked on the door, receiving a soft come in, before she completely went inside. Her eyes quickly landed on a extra desk that is on the corner, with boxes on top of it. She averted her gaze and looked at Scarlett, who is looking at her with soft eyes and small smile?

"Come here. Take a seat." Scarlett softly commanded and Y/n nodded obeying what Scarlett had said.

"Uh- Ms. Johansson, may i ask where's my desk? I mean, my work desk, the one where i work, it's not there when i arrive-" Y/n rambled, avoiding Scarlett's eyes as if she's scared, well, she's nervous, but Scarlett's heart shatter at the thought of Y/n being scared of her.

Scarlett swallowed the lump on her throat, before clearing it. "That's actually the reason why i called you here. From now on, you'll be working here, in this office with me. That..." Scarlett pointed at the desk. "..is yours, and your paperwork will be lessen, but you'll gonna be with me- always gonna be with me everyday and everytime." Scarlett explained, Y/n frowned.

"Is my time here is still the same?" Y/n asked, and Scarlett shook her head.

"You'll go home, once i go home. You'll go here, once i go here. So practically, you're time will be from 7 in the morning, to 10 in the evening." Y/n frowned, but she didn't said anything.

What about her job at the convinient store?

It's as if Scarlett can read her mind, Scarlett speak up.

"And your job at the store is gone, but your payment here will be triple, so you don't have to worry about that. I already talked to the owner of the store, and she immediately agreed." Well, more like, she payed the owner.

Triple of my payment? That's too much. Y/n thought.

"Any question, Ms. Y/l/n?" Scarlett asked, and Y/n shook her head.

"None, Ms. Johansson, thank you. I'll be starting my work now." Y/n said and stood up, but Scarlett stopped her.

"Wait." Scarlett immediate said, making Y/n stop and turned her body to face Scarlett, but still not meeting the older woman's gaze. "...can you look at me?...please..." That's all it took for Y/n to look at Scarlett slowly.

Y/n saw many emotions on Scarlett's face, there's a small frown, her lips are in a thin line, her eyes are slightly red and smaller than it usually are.

"Did you already eat?" No.

Y/n nodded.

"Y-yeah, i-i already ate." She didn't, she already sent all her money to her mother, despite her mother's declines and disagreements, she still did.

Tho, she left money for her bills and all, and a little for her food for a week or 2, but, it's just like for, 1 food for a day.

Even with her best lying action, Scarlett still saw right through Y/n, and she took a mental note on putting more food on Y/n's plate later for lunch and dinner.

"Okay, you may go now." Scarlett said with a soft tone, and Y/n nodded before walking to her desk, arranging all her things again.

Days, week, and a few months goes by, it gets better, it's slow, but there's an improvement on their relationship. Unfortunately, not for Y/n's mother's health.

Scarlett always do this little things that made Y/n's heart soften towards the older woman. Everyday she went to work, there's gonna be a food on her desk, when she would look at Scarlett in curiosity, she would see her being busy and all. Tho, there's no name on it, she knows very well that it's from the blonde woman.

And since everyday, they are together, her heart soften more at the little gestures that the woman does to her, she would open up the door for Y/n, she's very kind towards her now, she's not shouting anymore, and! Everyday, and i mean, everyday, and there's even an exact time that Y/n would recieve different types of flowers, she confronted Scarlett about it, but Scarlett just always changes the topic, after saying; "It's from me, now...blah blah blah...."

Sometimes, Y/n catch Scarlett looking at her, then looked away as if she's not been staring at the younger woman's soul. And ofcourse, with all of those things, it did something to Y/n, but she's just too scared to admit it and figure it out for herself.

Until one night, one moment led to something more.

"Hey, did you guys saw Y/n by any chance?" Scarlett asked Y/n's friends, as she look for the small girl at the crowd of so many people.

There's currently a party for a successful year on their company, and Scarlett decided to throw a big party, with everyone who is working for her, along with other business man and woman who they got to collab in this years events.

Scarlett did saw Y/n earlier, but there's so many interruptions here and there, and she lost her girl. Now, she got the chance to find her as the party started, since they already have a great enough relationship with each other, maybe it's time for Scarlett to move?

We don't want anyone getting you instead of Scarlett, do we?

"Oh, yeah, she actually went home already." Samantha said, and Scarlett nodded before saying thank you.

Taking a few deep breaths, Scarlett told the people who are in charge of the party to guide all the people and to finish this in a few hours already, saying she'll gonna call it a night already.

After that, she quickly went to her car, driving as fast as she could to Y/n's house, with a very nervous nerve and afraid feeling. What if she got rejected? No. I mean, either way she'll always gonna find a solutions to get to call Y/n hers.

Soon enough, she arrived. Some lights are still on, thank god, so she knocked 3 times, only to recieve no answer, so she did it again until she got tired and took it on her own hands to get inside, fortunately it not locked. I mean, she's her boss,and she's worried so what's wrong with trespassing inside of her secretary? Nothing.

"Y/n..." She called out softly, but nothing responded, instead as she walk more steps, her heart broke at the sound he heard.

It's Y/n's voice, she knows it, and the girl is clearly crying, and Scarlett became too desperate to find out. Curiosity got the best of her, and wandered around the small apartment more, until she stopped as soon as the sight of Y/n curled up in ball in a small couch went to her gaze.

She sees the girl shaking, sobbing loudly, a wrecked phone beside her feet, as she hold her face in her shaking hands. Y/n's shoulder is shaking violently, and Scarlett took no hesitation on walking towards her, slowly.

"Y/n..." The younger woman's head whipped at the sound of her name, quickly scrambling around to stand up and fix herself.

"Ms. Johansson-, what are you doing here?" Y/n asked avoiding the CEO's gaze.

Y/n looks so broken, even her voice sounded the same, it sounded so timid that it sounded like in any minute, she'll be bursting in tears. Her chest heaved up and down, almost chaotically, making Scarlett more worried.

She's shaking, her shoulders are violently shaking. She's still in her black dress, a dress that made Scarlett completely mesmerized, and became more simp for the younger woman. Even with her situation right now, Scarlett still finds her the most gorgeous woman that she had ever laid her eyes on.

She'll always gonna be the best girl for Scarlett.

"I was looking for you at the party, your friends told me you might've came home already...." Scarlett started off softly as she scanned the girl. "The door is opened, and I let myself in already, I hope you don't mind." Her heart broke at how Y/n looks so defeated.

"Oh- uh no... I don't mind." Y/n's voice is wavering. "W-what- what uhm-... What do you need, Ms. Johansson?" Y/n asked, still avoiding Scarlett's eyes, as she gaze at her broken cheap phone beside her feet.

Instead of answering, Scarlett decided to walk towards her, her feet softly padding on the old floor as she walk towards Y/n who became tensed at the sudden action, but nevertheless, Scarlett continued until she's just a few inches away from Y/n.

"Are you okay?" Scarlett started off softly, before bringing her head up to Y/n's cheeks, wiping some tears off softly. "What happened? Why are you crying, sweetheart?" As much as it warmed Y/n's heart, she gently pulled her face away from Scarlett's hands, making it fall down slowly.

"I-it's nothing-"Y/n was cut off by her own sob, as she uncontrollably broke down once again, her hands quickly going to her face.

"Hey, hey..." Scarlett brought the younger woman in a big hug, almost covering Y/n's whole body with her tall and masculine one.

Y/n's body rocked in sobs as Scarlett hold he tightly, the older woman's hand going up and down on Y/n's back comfortingly.

"Can you tell me what happened? It's okay if you don't want to, but i'm here okay? You can talk to me of whatever. None of that already, please?" Scarlett's voice wavered at the end, her heart breaking at the sight of Y/n and the sound of her loud broken sobs.

"N-no, y-you can g-go, Scarlett. I'll just do w-whatever you want with me t-tommorow..." Y/n tried to get away from Scarlett's grip, pushing her chest away slightly motioning that she wants to get away, but Scarlett only tightened her grip on the younger woman.

"Y/n." Scarlett said softly but sternly, demandingly rather, as if she doesn't want Y/n to do the actions again.

Y/n stopped, before a pit of sobs broke out of her once again, letting her body fall on to Scarlett chest, the comfort of the older woman is spreading her body like a wildfire, making her ask for more.

"Shhhh, it's gonna be okay, my darling. Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay. I'm gonna be with you, I promise, I'll be by your side, yeah?" Scarlett pulled away slightly to have a good look on Y/n, one of her hand is still on Y/n's waist.

"M-mom..." Y/n started, looking down. "My Mom's g-gone, Scarlett... I-i'm all alone now..." Once again, she cried, sobbing loudly before leaning in towards Scarlett.

Scarlett felt her skin became cold, her heart hammered in the inside of her chest.

It can't be. She already gave Y/n's mother the best doctors, and everyday making sure that everything is going well, all that with and without Y/n's knowledge.

Y/n knows that Scarlett is partially helping through her mother's therapy and all, but she didn't know that Scarlett is also the one who's paying for the expenses on the expensive hospital where her mother was in.

Scarlett even met Y/n's mother already, asking for her mother's blessing on having Y/n as her girlfriend, which Y/n's mother already gave Scarlett freely. Being the charming woman she is, she always visited Y/n's mother until she got what she wanted, showing her good intentions and all.

All that without Y/n's knowledge, but that enough for Scarlett to be calm knowing that no one can have her girl, except her and her only.

But now, Y/n's mother is gone, it saddened her, broke her heart even, she became utterly close with the woman, treating her like her own mother, while the woman treated her like her own daughter.

A part of her is somehow, relieved, thinking that Y/n's mother is already at peace, and knowing that she already promised to Y/n's mother that she'll protect her daughter for forever and eternity.

And she will.

She will never let Y/n feel that she's alone, she's here.

"I'm here." Scarlett said with much determination.

"I will always gonna be here, no matter how much you pushed me away, or whatever. And if you'll let me, I will give you the love I have been meaning to give you all along." Scarlett said softly, and hearing Y/n's sobs quite down she became nervous, as Y/n slowly look up at Scarlett with mixed emotions in her eyes.

Y/n doesn't know if she wants to believe what she's hearing or not, Scarlett had already shown her every thing for her to confirm that the older woman has a feelings for her, she fell for it, and now, hearing Scarlett saying this, it somehow brought the chaotic thoughts calm down about Scarlett in her mind.

And as they look at each other in each passing seconds, both of their hearts grew, and from that moment, Scarlett knew that everything she had been waiting for, the 'forever' she's been looking for, for so long, has now been found.

Her forever is now found.

And she doesn't have any intention of letting it slipped out of her hand, not for forever.

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Wow, I never thought that this would get out of my drafts 😭 I just want to thank @thewidowsledger for giving me all the things that I really need to hear to continue my writing journey, thank you so much, Den! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) (Would you like a part 2 for this, everyone?)

#lhecxzsa #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff angst #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson imagine #scarlett johansson fanfic #scarlett johansson

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maxtermind · 6 months ago

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SCENE 2 :: HOW MUCH TRAGEDY ↳ you were never not mine — carlos sainz ༉‧₊˚✧

★ : pairing :: carlos sainz x reader ★ : genre :: angst; fluff separated by a hidden emotional turmoil, carlos and y/n navigate the complexities of co-parenting their twins amidst the high-stakes f1 world. amidst paddock visits and personal healing, will they go further apart or find their way back to each other? ★ : a/n :: text posts are going to return from tom till then you can enjoy this<3 taglist form is in the series masterlist btw!! HATS OFF TO EVERY SINGLE SMAU WRITER BECAUSE THIS IS SO HARD LMAO

( series masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

f1 10 mins ago

f1 LET'S GET THE EUROPEAN LEG OF THE SEASON STARTED! 🇮🇹

username oh the admin knows what they did with carlos at the front lmao username can't wait for the races! let's goooo! 🇮🇹🏁 username so excited for this leg of the season! bring it on! 🤩 username hoping for some amazing races! good luck to all the drivers! 🙌 username here for the racing, not y/n’s drama ⤷ username ugh yes like can we focus on racing and not y/n’s drama? username italy, here we come! forza ferrari! ❤️ ⤷ username poor carlos, dealing with y/n’s drama and still racing username ready for some intense racing action! 🏎🔥 username who else is here for the drama? carlos and y/n's relationship update please! 😂 ⤷ username i hope carlos and y/n figure things out. it was so nice seeing her at the race again

yn.user 20 mins ago

yn.user behind every successful man is his loving fam❤️ congratulations papa sainz

username this is a joke, right? after all the drama? lilymhe wow such a hottie and a MOM? smash! ⤷ yn.user date and time🙏 ⤷ alexalbon uhm... im right here? username weren't you just out with another man? hypocrite ⤷ username loving fam? like she didn't just get caught with another guy? 😂 username wow, pretending everything is fine now? ⤷ username guess she's trying to clean up her image good luck with that username this is so fake everyone knows the truth username acting like a loving family after everything? sure, y/n ⤷ username like who the fuck are you fooling, y/n? we know the real story username you're so pretty, y/n! i bought the tickets just to see you irl username didn't take long for the fake posts to start

carlossainz 20 mins ago

carlossainz victory feels even sweeter with my kids by my side!🏆❤️

username congrats, carlos! the kids are your ONLY real supporters. username so glad you’re focusing on the kids and not the drama. ⤷ username victory without y/n? this is peak comedy😭 ⤷ username way to go, carlos! the kids are all you need! username finally, a win focused on the right people. congrats, carlos! username oh god we really lost the great war huh username great win, carlos! the kids must be so proud. ⤷ username this is the content we love. kids over drama! username well done! no need for distractions we're so proud❤️ ⤷ username the kids are his real mvps so lol username congrats, carlos! the kids are your biggest fans.

twitter

boo is typing... (y/n's pov)

lily is typing… (y/n's pov)

yn.user 20 mins ago

yn.user as my boys said: finally a worthy opponent✨

username this is why some people shouldn't have kids. username she's a mess. no wonder they broke up ⤷ username using her kids for attention. disgusting! carlossainz so you're also bad at scrabble? ⤷ username oh shit carlos didn't come to play ⤷ username you tell her carlos!! username no stability for those poor kids with her around. ⤷ username kids must be so confused with a new man every week username pathetic attempt to make carlos jealous. GROW UP, Y/N!!!

carlos is typing… (y/n's pov)

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phoenixcatch7 · 9 months ago

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Okay so I saw this post about dark percy (really him reaching his Limit and fighting full strength with everything he had) and I was imagining the potential fallout of that. Pretty bad, as you can guess.

The thing is a lot of percys strongest moments happen out of view of the olympians, especially in hoo. The hurricane atop the glacier in alaska, the poison scene in tartarus, bending the depression river and the one in the palace of nyx.

Stuff like the St Helens eruption got him washed up on an inescapable island literally removed from reality until calypso gave him the OK, the achillies curse he got tricked into losing by hera. Smaller moments, the minotaur, fighting ares, the stolen pirate ship, walking on water vs hyperion, freshwater sources, him knowing both Latin and Greek, they're more easily brushed off or at least mostly due to cunning, sword skills and sheer luck and grit.

But basically the olympians don't actually know the full extent of percys strength and divine power. They have hints - percy standing on the throne, winning against ares, his many victories - but what they aren't willing to brush aside in the heat of (an important) battle there have been pretty strong consequences for.

Heck, just look at Frank, he's no prodigy with weapons, he's polite and respectful, but his distant relation to two olympians letting him inherit shapeshifting earned him direct divine meddling and his life force tied to a hunk of half toasted firewood. Man is a honey bear with lactose intolerance and he was punished with a mythical death curse for being too strong.

If Percy's true strength came out, he would risk losing everything. His freedom, most certainly. If he wasn't straight up executed he might wind up in a Greek myth style imprisonment, the way of atlas, prometheus, calypso, or something like the myriad of ways Greek heroes met their end. Good scenario he survives a dozen curses and gets on with life with a dozen new disabilities, best case scenario he's stripped of every inch of divine power and dropped back to the mortal world, not even clear sighted. Total separation from the Greeks and Romans. Oh, annabeth would marry him either way, and his friends would hardly abandon him despite the gods wishes, but they'd hardly be able to see him, and no long range contact without the ability to IM him or vice versa.

All of that to say Percy is hiding his true strength from the gods themselves - maybe not consciously, and it's not even power he particularly wants - but if they ever find out?

It's game over.

But why is he so strong? I don't know. What I do know is that the half bloods of the books are so much stronger than the ones of myth. Used to be that divine blood would get you divine favour and a great fate whether you liked it or not. Maybe some cunning and bow skills. A spot of spell casting if you were really lucky. Achillies got his curse after he was born, Perseus had a dozen magic artifacts, orpheus had something going on but hercules is to my knowledge an outlier. Now? Everyone in camp has some special power. Flight, fire, necromancy, hypnotism, dream walking etc. However it's happening, half bloods are slowly but surely getting a lot, lot stronger every century that passes. Meta? I mean I guess. But.

What no one has done before is something that their godly parent couldn't.

Except.

Except Percy.

Except Percy, in tartarus, at his mental, emotional and physical limit, controlling poison with his mind, overpowering the goddess of poison in her home, making misery choke on misery. Feeling something in his chest crack. Doing something poseidon could not, and doing it better than the person who could.

Down there, hidden away from the gods, he evolved. For that brief moment, he did something, was something new.

And that was how the gods overthrew the titans.

And that's why they must never find out.

#In terms of extrapolating meta 'percy Jackson unknowingly being maybe the first of a new generation of increasingly powerful #Half bloods that would be in line with overthrowing the more powerful but complacent olympians as the next in the long line of toppling #Ancient and established lineages of divinity' has to be one of my favourites. Give it a few more centuries and they might actually be in #Danger lol #And the olympians would NOT be happy but would they solve the issue at its roots and stop having kids? Doubtful :)#Even just three of them who barely had anything to do with land or mortals couldn't keep it in their pants for more than half a century #Hestia and chiron remain the mvps as always lol #I got distracted from a story idea with lore dang it #pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #Pjo dod #hoo series #pjo hoo #the heroes of olympus #perseus jackson #pjo meta

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rowretro · 1 year ago

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ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℂ𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕤

✧warnings: F-boy Sunghoon so mentions of sex ig, may be a lil suggestive, possessive hoon

❁synopsis: The campus hottie, was practically perfect, smart handsome talented and rumour has it among the girls, good in bed. The male is a fuck boy, a jerk face, never once wanted to fall in love after having his heart broken once by an unlucky bitch. Heck he believed he'd be like that forever, until he came across the new girl. Yang y/n.

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

✧❁PART 1/???❁✧

"Oh my god you slept with him?!" one of the girls exclaimed as the other girls had their shocked reactions too "Yeah... then he broke up with me" the girl admitted "Isn't Sunghoon a fuck boy though? girl why'd you date him he doesn't even hide the fact he doesn't love you?" another girl pointed out "It doesn't matter, at least I had a great night" the girl said shrugging as the others laughed it off.

Y/n fiddled with her phone as she waited outside the classroom, one earphone in, hidden by her hair. She's heard many crazy things about this high school, having been transferred from a school in UK where she was used to everything, to a high school in South Korea. Everything is so new there, education system, driving on the different side of the road. but she had her best friend, Danielle by her side.

"Hey it's going to be ok" the girl reassured. One thing y/n is glad about, is the fact that she's fluent in Korean so language will not be a big problem for her. She smiles at Danielle as she follows her in. The teacher asks her to introduce herself as the girl blinks, staring at the class in disbelief. Introduce? first day and she has to speak in front of all these judgemental 18 year old strangers?!

"I'm y/n..." she says, forcing a smiled, the teacher points at an empty seat which was sadly not next Danielle. Making a sad pouty face at Danielle, she sat at the seat. 17 minutes. That's how long it took "Park Sunghoon late again?!" The teacher scolded as the male scratched his head then he froze. His eyes on y/n.

The girl's jaw rested in her palm as she doodled in the margin, false lashes fluttering against her glasses, her lips stained with a rosy, nude shade. Fuck she's everything. Is this what cupid felt when he saw psyche? love at first sight like Romeo experienced with Juliet? Sunghoon was captivated.

He slammed his palm on the desk of the person beside y/n. The girl didn't even flinch and probably didn't care due to the earphone blasting Itzy in her left ear. the student sitting beside her immediately got up and went to a different seat as Sunghoon slipped into the seat beside the girl. he turned to her, tapping her shoulder. the girl paused her music turning to him.

So this is Park Sunghoon, the handsome fuckboy they say. Y/n knew he was bad news "Im Sunghoon... and you?" the male asked "Not interested" she said, turning back to do her work "Come on baby, don't be like that" he said, winking as she sighed, looking at him. She then turned back and ignored him, doodling.

"Wah you can draw- that looks so realistic gurl" he complimented as the girl groaned, slamming her head on the desk. "Park Sunghoon stop distracting the new girl and get on with your work. or you can switch spaces with Eunchae!" the teacher warned as Sunghoon groaned, picking up his pencil.

2 lessons passed by and break time rolled in, she smiled, sorta running over to Danielle with grabby hands. they jumped up and down squealing like typical girls as their fingers intertwined. "I can't believe we're finally in the same schooool!" Danielle squealed as y/n smiled. "I know right?! we can finally do typical bestie stuff get our nails done, do each other's makeup, gossip, and hang out~" y/n added with a smile.

"All of this and I don't hear boyfriend... i'm assuming it's because you have one?" Sunghoon asked with a raised eyebrow as the girl sighed "No I don't never had one and never will... I don't like the idea of putting all my trust in a guy." She said, in a slight passive aggressive manner. "Ok but I'm telling you, a pretty girl like you NEEDS to end up with a trust worthy guy like me" Sunghoon said.

Y/n gave him the 'be for real' look as she rolled her eyes, walking away with Danielle. "So stupid. He really thinks I'm going to let him get in my skirt?!" y/n scoffed, handing danielle a cherry lollipop as she sucked on her own. "Please. He can't flirt for shit, and just yesterday he had two girlfriends whom he dumped back to back." Danielle added as Y/n shook her head, disappointed. Sunghoon having over heard all this, decided it was time to stop playing girls like a gameboy, and pursue his princess.

✧❁PART 2❁✧

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spencerreidsbookfairy · 5 months ago

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SET UP.

famous!readers back you guys and its angstier than ever.

Okay so I skipped dinner.

I physically couldn’t handle the expected awkwardness

I lied and told him my manager needed to to talk me and it was urgent

He's a profiler you dumb bitch

Part of me feels bad, but it’s not like I don’t want to make amends with him and his team; it’s just that ever since I was a little girl, I’ve struggled with confrontation, and it’s followed me into adulthood. I know avoiding the issue won’t make it go away, and I’m fully aware that he probably sees right through my excuse. Still, the thought of facing him and his team, of having to explain myself and potentially deal with their disappointment, feels like too much to handle right now. It’s frustrating to be so paralyzed by something as simple as a conversation, but I’m hoping that with time and a bit of courage, I can find a way to address it.

Adding to my anxiety about confronting them is the lingering sting of how they treated me behind my back. I’d overheard them making fun of my singing and mocking my songs, which felt like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t just the hurtful comments but the sense of betrayal from a group I had hoped would be supportive. The thought of facing them now feels like stepping into a hostile environment, where every word and gesture might be laced with judgment or ridicule. This makes my reluctance to confront the situation even more overwhelming, as the fear of being dismissed or belittled looms large.

On top of everything, I already feel incredibly insecure about being around Spencer’s team. Here I am, a singer trying to make a name for myself, while they’re FBI profilers, experts in their field, and it’s hard not to feel like my career is a joke in comparison. The stark contrast between our worlds—my creative, emotionally driven profession versus their analytical, high-stakes work—makes me question if I even belong in their presence. Every interaction feels like an unspoken judgment of my career choice, amplifying my insecurities and making me doubt whether my passion for music is taken seriously or just seen as a frivolous hobby in their eyes.

I then decide to go out to a party to self soothe God knows i need it, seeing all my friends

Bella, gigi and ariana all my friends making it their duty to make me feel better about my current situationship

I then see a blonde, gorgeous woman walk into the club

Its lila archer

No.

Lila always secretly resented me, for what reason i'm not sure, but one thing i do know is that i'm not the problem lilas notorious for being a huge bitch to almost everyone she comes in contact with. Her fame getting to head 24/7 I truly want someone to shoot me if i ever turn out to be like her, so rude so dismissive so-

Wait whys she walking over here? Was i talking out loud????

“y/nnnnnnn???’’ she dreadfully drags out. ‘’ what are you doing here, everyone else told me youve been at home moping over a guy” voice FILLED with mockery terribly trying to be hidden with concern

I finally get the courage to say something.

“ wow words get around fast i guess”

“ im here for you you know, if you ever need advice, like beauty advice, or just friend advice”

Oh.

I already feel immensely insecure around her. her gorgeous eyes, body face, dating history

Before i can say anything back she chirps up and says

‘’ what is his name anyways? Wont spill the beans, promise.”

“Spencer.”

‘’ wow so I don't get a last name” she says and laughs, " that poisonous laugh will kill me one day.

‘“Reid.’’

I can see the knowing smirk forming on her face and i'm confused on whats humorous about his name

‘’ oh my god, you mean FBI spencer reid, that dirty dog just can’t get enough of the public eye girls can he, he sure does have a mouth on him though.’’

Fuck. my. Life.

He said i was his first girlfriend,

Im hyperventilating internally

‘’ maybe you're thinking of someone else lila, spencer said i'm his first girlfriend”

‘’ Oh you probably are, we still had fun though, he saved my life. Of course I'd reward him for it.”

I swear the music in the club stopped when she said that

‘’ excuse me.’’

I say as i quickly power walk out the nightclub and into my car to go home

You might be asking why i'm freaking out so bad

Spencer told me we were each others first time.

I gave him my virginity thinking it was his first time too.

He lied.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds incorrect quotes #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x famous!reader #spencer reid x singer!reader #spencer reid angst

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starillusion13 · 1 year ago

Note

saw the reqs are open omg!!! im thinking of badboy wooyoung (god forbid his new undercut) x reader. wooyo plays and teases her together with his friends til he crosses the line and the reader kind of gets hurt? angst to fluff i beg ❤️

I LIKE RED

Pairing: Ateez! Wooyoung x fem! reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Slice of Life

Warnings: crying, mention of physical abuse, psycho behaviour of boyfriend, teasing in university, slight mention of bullying, Wooyoung's undercut lol

W.C: 3.5k

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated 😭. Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

“Look, who we got here?”

“Wooyoung, I’m not going to repeat again. Move.”

As usual, he is not getting fazed by your cold attitude and hence, your bored face is giving him the amusement. His two bestfriends San and Yeosang finding the situation funny and three of them smirking and staring down at you.

……

You didn’t expect your university life to be dealing with these idiots everyday. It’s not like you have engaged yourself with them eagerly but somehow you and Wooyoung being in the same dance club making the things go around like this. When you got first introduced to him, you had just saw him from afar laughing with his friends and walking around the campus and boy, his laugh was so contagious that even from a distance, it brought a little smile on your face.

Everything becomes different the moment when next day, you met him, standing in front of you. An average tall boy in black pants and a loose jacket with a black tee inside, must be a black lover. Sharp jawlines highlighting the face on point along with the undercut hair, so on point that the shaved hairs above the ear and behind it shaved nicely to spot the earring more clearly, giving the face a fresh look but the shaved hairs slightly getting hidden under the rest black hairs, giving him a mysterious look. Curious eyes staring down at you, tongue licked his soft red lips and hands extended in front of you with an attitude laced in his voice.

“This is Wooyoung and what’s your name, sweetheart?”

Oh. A sweet-talker. Shaking his hands, your mind went how he had that rough outlook but his hands were so soft as if a handshake can ease your every problem.

“Myself Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Such a pretty name. Also, I like your dress. Its suits you so well and there’s a reason why am liking it more.”

“Thank you. And may I know why?”

“No.” And with this, he patted your cheeks with two fingers and making a clicking sound with his tongue and teeth, he winked at you and left you there, standing at the corridor. You didn’t know what did just happen. Like the introduction was normal but then if he didn’t want to tell you the reason so why giving a hint that he likes your dress for a reason. Quickly, you went to the washroom to check if there was any problem with your outfit but all you could see was your reflection just the same as when you left the house in the morning.

It’s not possible for that boy with the dark aesthetic to like such a bright dress.

…….

Now, it was a part of your daily routine to cross paths with him during the breaks between classes. You both only had few practical classes together and also it was usual to meet at the club meetings. The unusual part was him to be always being close to you, even people assumed you both to be a couple. ‘An innocent girl and a bad boy’ He himself even teased you several times along with his bestfriends but your reaction was simple just to glare at them, which was rather stupid to them, cute to him. It didn’t bother to his reputation of being the popular guy in the campus or him flirting with some girls even when he got to hear questions from some whether he is really dating you or not. He always laughs at this question and sometimes run around the campus just to know your whereabouts so that he can annoy you. Just like the way he is doing now.

“Why are you always telling me to move or…like you just ignore me the way as if you can’t even see me?”

“wooyoung, look don’t act like we are close. You know I won’t be giving in like other girls so better move aside.”

“Bad girl. Why are you being mean to me?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t pretend to be a good girl. Wooyoung is just being nice to you, nothing else. You both are paired up in for the dance competition so he is just trying to be friends with you.” San states while referring to his friend who is still trying to block your way from going to the next class.

“You know that even if we are paired doesn’t mean that we need to be friends and we can have this conversation only during the practices that’s it.”

That’s on cut, you push him and run away from the scene. Wooyoung tries to call you but end up laughing with his friends.

Arriving to a classroom, you take heavy breathes and lean to the wall. You didn’t have to run away from him like the way as if he was a killer with his gang. Atleast, he is not the one but the one who would judge the situation is.

You still remember those moments when these three had teased you a lot of times in the corridors. Either them flirting with you or spreading news that you are dating one of them or telling people rumours about you staying with them at nights but the second you get them in your hand, you would scold them but nothing can change the fact that they are deaf to your shouting. Mostly, Wooyoung who is the main cause of all these hurdles in your life. He is always the one who has to start such commotions every day. You don’t know why but apart from you being in a pair in dance class, he still tries to be close with you other times but only to tease you and make you run some errands for him. He and his friends would make you sometimes do a lot of their works but if you deny sometimes then they would make sure to threat you with your scholarship. To be in the good books of everyone, you are agreeing with everything, even with the dark life of yours.

And as you thought before, there is always one who would judge the situations in a different way.

“So, you were again with him. Had fun? Kissed yet?”

“M-Mark?”

“What? Didn’t expect me here or you are disappointed that you can’t spend time with that lover boy?”

“Mark, that is not the thing. He was just informing me about the dance practice schedules and-“

“Shut up.” Mark comes near to your form, eyes daringly watching how your body tensed up with his every step. He caged you in between him and the wall with his one hand resting beside your head and other one on your cheeks, “baby, why are you so afraid of me? It’s not like I’m going to hurt you. Do I ever hurt you?”

You remain silent. Lips quivering, eyes trembling and tears slide down your cheeks. A silent tear with storm of helplessness. Your whole-body trembling under his touch, remembering his previous tortures on you one by one.

“Now, we don’t want a bad girl here, right?” Bad girl. Wooyoung calls you this everytime whenever you glare at him when he teases you the times when you try to ignore him but he is not letting you to go until he has annoyed the hell out of you.

Mark slaps you. Your weak body couldn’t keep the balance and ended up on knees, getting hurt in the elbow during this. Mark bends down to hold your face upwards to look at him, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Why didn’t you answer yet? Is it so hard to tell whether I have hurt you or not? Yes or no.”

“No. You never hurt me.”

He yanks your hair and you grunt on the pull, burning your scalp. Your eyes are bloodshot because of the pressure and the way you are suppressing your cry, a cry for lost war.

“That’s a lie. I have just now hurt you and you are getting more punishments later for lying to me.”

He got up from the space and dusts his clothes. Glancing at you, he rolls his eyes and calls someone. After having some few conversations with the person on the other line, you know that’s Haechan asking him about their father’s business deals. Your cheek is burning but what about it, you are used to getting this treatment. Your once lovey-dovey boyfriend is now a psycho. Once, when a topic of breaking up with him had arisen since then he is acting like a maniac to keep you with him and now supporting his every behaviour has led down to this. Getting treated like a prisoner, atleast he allows you to come to university as you are always locked up in the suffocating house. The house is big but wherever you are with him, it’s a prison to you now, which was once a paradise you dreamed of.

“get up. Don’t overreact and don’t ever dare to miss the class. No one is going to pay for your semester fees if you fail this. You have only got the scholarship because I was your tutor in highschool so just go and attend the lectures.”

He was your tutor and that was how, you fell in love with him. How much you regret to have him as your tutor back then! You were so grateful for him to be by your side but now its sinful.

He went out without glancing at you twice. If he going to treat you like this then why keeping you with him. Obsession. He is obsessed with you. Somehow, even in this situation, your thoughts wander around how one day, wooyoung asked you in between your errands about your hand injury but you waved it off. I should have told him the truth. Why? You sometimes feel this urge to open up yourself to him because you find him a comforting person despite his teasings.

“You know you should break up with him? We can be better together?”

“Who?”

“Of course, I’m talking about Mark Lee. If there is someone else then I don’t know about him, honestly but you look like a good girl to do such things.”

“what? What such things?”

“Being in relationship with more than one.”

“You don’t know what I do or might be doing in my private life so don’t be a nosy person right now.”

“Oooooh, that’s sexy. My bad girl is interesting.” His bad girl and somewhere you liked the way he just mentioned you.

One moment he is being a friendly and understanding one with you but the next moment he will be returned to its actual self, having fun with everything all around and make you feel you are not a special person to him, you are just a part for him to make fun of.

What big expections you have with your life! You literally hate him then why thinking of getting close to him.

Mark’s daily abuse is getting out of hand these days because of him Wooyoung and that’s why you ignore him as much as possible just not to get in trouble but still a part of you wants to run to him. Why? Because apart from his teasing, he is the only one who actually let you show your mad expression when he has crossed his limits, to make you listen to his absolute nonsense but you enjoy hearing some out of world gossips than harsh insults from mark and many other things wooyoung make you feel, which make you believe you deserve a better life, a life where you can smile, laugh naturally, not laughing with a fear of someone watching you everytime.

“That’s it. We can keep the practice till here. We have two more weeks and we have already covered the whole dance, just a few more practices and we will be the one getting the winner’s trophy.”

You just nod on his words. You can rarely hear his words because your wide eyes looking down at the sweating palms holding your phone, showing 10 missed calls from your boyfriend, Mark. You are dead. This should not have happened if you previously hadn’t silenced the phone to not get distracted during the practice. It’s weird to be in a dance club when your boyfriend doesn’t appreciate such things, right? No. According to him, it would make you stay fit and strong but he doesn’t know that even if you are physically okay, mentally you are the weakest.

“Y/N, are you listening to me?”

You didn’t reply. You haven’t heard so how could you. You feel hands on your shoulder which break your trance of thinking all the negative situations to be faced after you will reach your place. Your wide teary eyes stare back at wooyoung who was looking at you in confusion.

“Y/N?”

“Wooyoung, I need to leave. I have to go. Right now.”

Your panicking state doesn’t go unnoticed by him and when you were collecting your things in hurry, he grips your hand to turn you around and you stare into his eyes, your panic rises when you realise if mark sees you like this with him then something like previous torturing days would repeat again.

…….

“If I walk around the campus like this, will your boyfriend be angry or just have faith on you and let it slide that we are friends?”

“wooyoung, move your hand. People might think us of something else. I’m already under so many gossips and I don’t want to add up to it.”

“Why are you always so eager to be in good books of everyone? Be yourself, Y/N. Fuck what people are thinking about you without any proof. I’m just asking about your boyfriend’s reaction. Also, I hope your boyfriend tells you the same thing about you too.”

I hope too. I hope my boyfriend would have been like the way he was, just the way you always playing around and like before being a polite and gentle boyfriend but he is a different person now. A literal doppelganger of his past.

You harshly push wooyoung and glare at him. He was taken aback by your sudden attitude but he had noticed your sudden change in attitudes for a while now. He had noticed the fear in your eyes whenever he asks you about your boyfriend. Ignoring his worst thoughts, still he believed on the positive side and annoys you.

“Don’t touch me like this in public or in private ever like this. Only my boyfriend is allowed to touch me and no one less.”

That’s how you left him there, standing and watching your figure disappearing when you took a turn.

You somewhere hoped to shout on your boyfriend like this not to touch you ever but somehow your whole life is being controlled by him and when you are with him, you are like a puppet of his hands. Mark’s touch are dominating and rough ,simply abusive and insulting whereas Wooyoung’s touch are soft and playful, in other words securing and loved.

………

“Don’t tell me to leave your hand again.”

“wooyoung..”

“Are you okay?”

“Wooyo-“

“Tell me. Are you okay? Is there something bothering you?”

You are wiggling your wrist under his hold but somehow his grip is strong but gentle. Before you could say any more word. The door of the practice room slams open, startling you and Wooyoung closes his eyes in frustration as to who is interrupting him. You both are looking at the person at the door. You are faced with the most scary scene in front of you, your eyes wide in horror and whereas wooyoung unfazed by the presence. Your boyfriend’s raging eyes taking in your position with him and how wooyoung maintaining a secure hold on your wrist. His heavy steps of the boot echoing inside the room as if the mirror walls would collapse under the pressuring sound, eyes focused on the grip.

Your breathes becoming heavy, hands becoming numb, ears becoming deaf to the surrounding and as if the walls closing in to suffocate you to death. Mark reaches to you and holds your other hand and when he tries to pull you, you are pulled back by the other one.

“Y/N, tell that guy that we are leaving for home and it’s your last time for this dance practice.”

Wooyoung didn’t like the tone he used on you and seeing your trembling form under their hold was triggering something inside him.

“Woo-“ you somehow manage to voice out his name but Wooyoung interrupts you.

“Even if you drag her away from me still I’m not leaving her hand. Not with you.”

Mark chuckles on hearing his desperation in the voice.

“You are speaking about my girlfriend in the way as if she belongs to you.” Taking few steps closer to him, he glared , “ Remember She is Mine.”

You clutch Wooyoung’s wrist under his hold and he sees your uncomfortable face to which he forcefully pulls you behind him and glares at your boyfriend.

“Don’t touch her.” Wooyoung literally growls at Mark.

Mark is not liking his attitude and finding this so annoying that you are giving in to him and not fighting against his hold as if you are glad to be with him.

“You don’t tell me what to do with her. She is not your property. Let me take back to where she belongs to.”

“Now, you are telling me she is a property? Shut up before I pull your throat out. She can’t be yours when you are just treating her like this. Have you seen her closely? She is dancing but her body is lacking the confidence and strength because she is weak both mentally and physically and emotionally and all this because of you.” Wooyoung glares as he stated his points.

Mark glares back at him, “aren’t you showing too much care for her? Have you fallen in love with her or what?”

“Yes, I have. Atleast I know how to treat someone whom I love. Just leave, Mark.”

Mark grabs his collar and glared at him.

You somehow managed to calm yourself while being out of sight of Mark but still a lingering sense of fear still budging you. You push yourself to the front of Wooyoung, “Mark, please let go of him. We were just practicing for the event and….I…I had put the call on silent. Sorry for that.”

Both of the males are looking down at you but with different emotions, one with soft and worried expression and the other one with furious eyes and mad expression.

Leaving the collar, he grabs your hair and pulls your face near him, “I have told you several times to stay away from him but you are a brat who won’t listen.”

“Ah…Mark. It’s hurting….please leave it.”

“Do you think Wooyoung will always be there to help you?”

“Whats going on here?” Yeosang enters the room and the scene before him is confusing. He looks at Wooyoung and then you and your boyfriend.

Wooyoung again pulls you out of his grasp and hugs you, “Y/N, calm down. Shh.shh, it’s me.”

“Please leave me. Please I will listen to you. I won’t be a bad girl again. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Wooyoung’s heart clenches seeing you like this vulnerable, he hugs you tighter and caress your head, planting a slow and soft kiss on your head. Mark was about to go towards him.

“Yeosang, call your dad and San and tell them to come here. Grab him and take him to the spare room. I’m coming.”

The one in command doesn’t need a word more to jump in action. He pulls out a syringe from his backpack and push it down the neck of Mark when he was busy watching you. One might wonder what in the hell Yeosang have such things in his backpack but that’s for other times. As for now, he is taking this unconscious man out of the room to the spare room.

Wooyoung waited until the door got closed. He makes you sit on the floor along with him and pulls you closer to his embrace, a secure one as if he is shielding your weak body from every strong presence and negative energies around you.

“Hey, look at me. No one is here to hurt you. It’s me and you. Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

Somehow his sweet voice worked and you parted your eyes a bit, still not sure about the scene that might get unfold. But to your relaxation, a sweet guy yet his appearance was not sweet, his looks and aesthetics are always so dark and gives off gangster vibes, you sometimes wonder him to be one. Your eyes wander around the room to see where is your boyfriend but it was only both of you and somewhat you thanked for this mentally.

Your gaze returns back to the guy holding you tight as if his hold won’t loosen even if it’s the end of the world.

“Wooyoung…”

“Yes…it’s me. He can’t hurt you anymore. You are safe now. “

Shaking your head, “he will come back to me again. You don’t know how powerful he is. Nothing can prevent him from getting me back. Not even you.”

“Who said I’m not powerful?”

“I’m not joking. He has a backup support of a gang and even if I complain about him to the police then his boss will bail him.”

Pulling your head to his chest, his hands patting your back, “I know everything about him. Even more than you know. You don’t know a lot of things about everyone but you know I guessed it right. That something is up between you and Mark. I have watched you feeling scared everytime I have mentioned about him. Even if you smile anytime, there was an unspoken sadness in your eyes.”

“You noticed? That’s crazy coming from you as you have always seen me as to tease and annoy me.”

“That’s fun though….. I have noticed everything about you Y/N. Since the first day, I met you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“To pull you in the mess of my life. I should have managed to get out from here before he could reach to us here but I was late.”

He caress your head before softly pulls it upwards. So opposite from Mark’s hold. The same actions but different approach, your hurtful eyes meeting his worried eyes.

“I’m glad that all my guess are cleared in front of my eyes and I was the one there who could protect you from him. I will keep you safe. And I can assure you that no one can hurt you ever not even me and you have to trust me.”

“I want to trust you but somewhere I fear to get hurt again like the way I got on trusting him. But Woo” your palm resting on his cheeks, “ but please let me trust you. Let me make you the part of my life. Please make me believe that I can be loved and you will not hurt ever.”

He smiles at you and this is the first time he is genuinely smiling at you without any teasing and you smile a little along with him.

“I have loved you since the day one since the day when you introduced yourself all dolled up in a red dress and you remember I told you that I like your dress for a reason.”

You nod.

“I like red and you caught my eyes that day but not like the other girls but a one who I need to protect. I like you in colour red. You shine the brightest. My bad girl in red.”

You hug him tightly, “thank you, Wooyoung.”

So it was your red dress. Now everything is getting clear why he always puts a red ribbon on your wrist or gifts you red cased pens, red key rings. He always urges you to wear red coloured outfits or a hint of red details atleast available in it. You thought it was just a part of him annoying you but it was just he wanted to see you in red colour.

“I love you, Y/n.”

You didn’t reply but rest your head on his shoulder inhaling his comforting cologne.

“I’m sorry if it’s too fast but after waiting for all these years I couldn’t help and-“

“I love you too, Woo.”

He is smiling brightly hearing your reply with the nickname and place a soft kiss on your forehead and then on your nose. He stares at your lips.

“One day when we will be both in a better situation, I will kiss you on the lips.”

You smile at him and rest your head against his chest, his heart beating fast yet it’s relaxing to you.

In a comfortable silence inside the practice room, there’s two souls promising to be there with each other, one is glad to save the other one and the other is glad to get the comfort they desired all these times. Never ever anyone had thought of having a peaceful silence in a place which is supposed to be loud chaotic.

“But you are still my bad girl who is ready to argue back with me and also we need to be the winners. The winners of the competition and the winners of the life of you and me.”

His bad girl in red.

Please dont hate Mark. I want to give Mark a psycho role and somehow I was lowkey loving it while writing him here but remember he is not even like this in real life. He is an absolute sweetheart. Mark him in your heart.

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