#one year of singledom

[dragonflylady77]

Today (8 August) is a whole year since i ended my marriage.

Took my teenagers for a mocktail to celebrate.

(and yes i totally have a stupid crush on the NB mixologist who makes the amazing cocktails, and it was latent for a bunch of years but now not so much but it's okay, i'm used to feeling like that and nothing is gonna happen cos i'm not gonna say anything)

[penistoners]

happy one year anniversary to the worst fucking phone call in my life

[sagechanoafterdark]

Shoot Your Shot, Cupid

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Word Count: 3,770 Warnings: mature language, unbeata'd, soft Bucky, lets assume Sam set him up for this one, female coded reader, happy ending because we all deserve it, TIME SKIIIIIP, best friend with good intentions that shows up for one job and then disappears, speed dating, one obnoxious man, all the soft feelings.

Hello Kittens, and Happy Valentine's Day. It's been a while since I wrote... well anything and I was working on this for a couple of months but I think it's come all together now. Hope you enjoy it!

This couldn’t get much worse.

Tricked by your best friend.

Nay, betrayed.  

By someone you implicitly trusted.

There would be no forgiving this.

Never, not ever.

The dinner and drinks invitation a few days before the start of February was met with trepidation on your part. All Christmas season you’d feigned interest as Mellony, your best friend, thrust every single co-worker, neighbor, and wait staff at you to find you someone to share the holiday with.

You couldn’t blame her. After all, Mellony was blissfully happy with her fiancée and only wanted the same for you.

All that you could forgive.

But this?

This was a complete and utter betrayal.

A deep and unimpressed frown marred your face as Mellony took the sticky name tag off the table with her perfectly manicured nails. Peeling the back with an ear-to-ear grin and pressed it against your chest. “There,” she exclaimed with joy, lacing her fingers together. “Now you’re all set.”

Looking down at the beautifully scrawled letters framed by little hearts you couldn’t help but curl your lip and whine, “Mel, you promised.”

The blond snorted and rolled her enormous puppy dog eyes, “I never promised anything.” Looping her arm through yours she practically began to drag you through the convention center doors and past the sign that sealed your fate.

Cupids Bow Speed Dating Event.

“Yes, you did,” you reaffirmed. Glancing around the room packed full of men and women in a combination of sweaters, suits, and cocktail dresses. “You promised not to try and set me up with anyone again.”

“This is my speed dating event. It doesn’t count.”

“I can assure you it does.”

“Nooooo,” she practically sang, turning around on her heel with that adorable mischievous smile of hers. “I promised that I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I knew. Everyone here was vetted by my team. I don't know any of these people.”

Grumbling she began tugging you towards the stage as intro music began to play softly from the DJ booth. Mellony paused, gripping your hand tight and looking down at you as the DJ introduced her, “Please, stay? I just want you to find someone.”

“Mel,” you hissed with disapproval. “I don’t need to find someone.”

Whether or not she heard you was unclear as the music swelled and Mellony put on her famous razzle dazzle smile and waved at everyone as she took the microphone and the presentation began. Your eyes swung to the crowd of people, more than three dozen people silhouetted against the stage lights and it made you shiver.

This was going to be a disaster.

Twenty minutes later your mind was glazed over with the audacity of men.

With every new ding of the bell, you found yourself becoming more annoyed. The match-making event progressed easily. People were divided into groups based on results from a questionnaire, something you distinctly remember Mel presenting to you as a fun Cosmo quiz, while one group remained seated the others rotated around the room.

By some stroke of luck, you were one of the people destined to sit. But that also meant that total strangers would be coming to your table to chat with you.

In all your years of singledom,  you’d thought you’d heard it all. Too fat. Too loud. Too smart. Too opinionated. Those were old hat by now, and you weren’t immune to the bitter words from unimportant people.

“I suppose you’re an attractive woman,” the suit across from you said thoughtfully. His eyes never met yours, instead looking around the room likely for the next victim of his charm. “But I’m not really into your hair color. How would you feel about dying it?”

The question hung in the air as you waited for the man to look back at you. When his beady eyes returned to your face you couldn’t hide the disbelief, waving your hand in the air with an icy finality, “Absolutely not. You can go.”

He didn’t wait. Standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor as he haughtily walked towards the bar. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you pulled out your phone and began to scroll social media waiting for the next bell in fifteen minutes.

Not the wildest thing you’d ever heard, but the gall of some people astounded even you sometimes. This also wasn’t the first event you’d been to that Mel had put on, you’d come to one or two as she’d begun her match-making service so you knew the ins and outs pretty well. But getting the same questions over and over was getting old fast.

What do you do for a living?

Where are you from?

What’s your family like?

What’s your perfect date idea?

BOR-ING!

Just once you’d like someone to ask you a real question, something thoughtful instead of the surface questions you’d find on social media.

You couldn’t believe you wore your favorite dress for this nonsense.

The bell dinged once again and the shadow of a new man sat in front of you.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said not looking up from the device in your hand.

“Come here often?”

“To a dating event? No,” the words were flowing out of your mouth easily. Canned responses for canned questions.

There was a heavy pause, “You seem bored.”

“That’s because I am.”

A muted scoff came from the other side of the table, “What would make it more interesting then?”

A long sigh escaped you as you continued scrolling on your phone, “If someone would ask me a question of substance, maybe I would give them a chance for conversation.”

Again a long stretching silence from the other side and you had to resist rolling your eyes.

“Alright,” he rumbled, leaning back against his chair. “Then what’s one gift you always wish you’d gotten, but never did?”

That had your thumb pausing on the endless scrolling you were doing. Finally, your gaze flicked up and your brain stopped working for a brief moment as you took in the disgustingly attractive man sitting your opposite.

Coffee color hair, and a chiseled jaw dotted with a five o’clock shadow would be enough to make even the most choosy of a woman’s breath catch. He was wearing a bulky leather jacket in a building that was pushing 80 degrees, which was odd but not overly strange.

But oddly enough you felt yourself getting drawn in. Not by his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the dimple in his chin, or even the semi-scowl he wore.

No, it was his eyes. Bright blue soulful eyes, that sparkled a little as he sat across the table from you. Eyes that told a story all their own and drew you out of your scrolling for the first time that night.

Pursing your lips slightly you thought, “Hmm, I’d have to say it’s a puppy.”

His eyebrow arched slightly, clearly surprised by your answer, “A puppy?”

“Sure,” you said with a slight shrug. “A puppy is something I’ve always wanted but never gotten as a gift from anyone other than myself.”

“What kind of puppy?”

“Oh I don’t have a preferred breed,” you informed, tilting your head a little at the odd conversation. “But as a child, it was what I asked for every year as a present. But I never got one.”

His lips turned up in a half smile and you thought you were going to melt in your seat, “Asking for one every year and not getting one, sounds a little disappointing. Was that just a Christmas thing?”

“Nah,” you laughed a little, fingers picking at a little piece of lint on the edge of your dress. “Christmas, birthdays, Easter didn’t matter. If gifts were being given, it was at the top of my list. Every year I’d be running to the tree and picking up presents, looking for one big enough. It’s a running joke with my friends that I’d marry the first man to give me a puppy for Christmas.”

A brisk laugh escaped him, his lips pulled into a charming smile that had nervous butterflies leap up in your chest. “A puppy for Christmas,” he rumbled thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that.”

The response made goosebumps prickle along your skin and you held back a shiver, wetting your suddenly dry lips, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s a gift you always wanted but didn’t get,” you paused briefly a coy smile stretching your lips.

His smile turned into a smirk as he once again leaned back in his chair, blue eyes darting back and forth over your face as he thought about it. It was going well, your impish smile growing along with his own. That is until his smile began to fall, bright blue gaze darting a little more frantically over your face before he licked his lips and an unexpected tremor sounded in his voice, “I think, I think it was a sled.”

“A sled,” you asked, leaning forward a little in intrigue. “Like a big plastic one with the handles? Oh no, I got it you’re definitely an inflatable snow tube kind of guy.”

A balk of laughter sounded from him, making hidden laugh lines appear at the corner of his eyes as they brightened with your playful banter. “Nah,” he exclaimed, waving a hand. “More like a wood and metal one. It had bright red skis and a wooden seat top. That sled was all I wanted as a kid.”

An amused giggle slipped from you, “I had a wagon kind of like that as a kid, it was a radio flyer.”

His fingers snapped as he pointed at you with a little bit of excitement, “That’s it! A Radio Flyer sled, with a rope handle and foot steering bar. Though I don’t think I’d ever get one now. I’m a little too old to go sledding down a hill.”

“Age is all about perspective.”

He snorted, “Tell that to my driver's license.”

Genuine laughter bubbled up from inside of you as you leaned forward in your seat, a teasing retort on your lips. Before you could speak, Mellony rang her little handbell and people began to switch places again. But your blue-eyed stranger lingered at your table.

“Talk to you again?”

He sounded, hopeful. “Yeah,” you croaked out pathetically. “Talk to you again.”

You watched as he stood from your table and made his way across the room to his next table while another man took his place at your own. A feeling of disappointment swelled as you lost sight of him in the crowd of people, the feeling intensifying as this new man briefly introduced themselves before launching into a long Tinder-level introduction.

Two more men sat at your table, barely holding your interest outside of normal pleasantries before Mel rang her handbell in rapid succession. “Alright everyone that’s the first round,” she called from her place at the podium. “We’re going to break for thirty minutes. There are hors d'oeuvres and refreshments at the bar. Please feel free to mingle!”

The room of people began to stand and mill around as an uproar of chatter began. Your eyes picked out a couple of men from your group, pairing up with others and heading to the bar. Cordial smiles turned into pleasant touches and sweetheart eyes as they went.

The Cupids Bow Dating Event was a success and you couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride for your friend.

“Hey, Sourpuss,” Melody greeted, looping her arm through yours. “You having fun yet?”

Your mind drifted back to your blue-eyed stranger, “A little.”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this. But the point of speed dating is to, you know, find a date. I was watching you, and you gotta talk to more than one person,” she sassed.

Your mouth turned down to a frown for a brief moment, “I talked to someone.”

“Oh yeah? What was his name.”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you realized quickly you’d never even got Mr. Blue-Eyes name, “Shit.”

“What?”

“I didn’t even get Mr. Blue-Eyes name!”

“It’s Bucky.”

Turning around there stood Mr. Blue-Eyes himself, err… you meant Bucky. There was no doubt your embarrassment showed on your face, but the little nervous laugh that slipped out sealed the deal.

Bucky smiled at you, “That is if it’s me you were talking about?”

Wetting your lips you shifted, suddenly nervous before meeting friendly blue eyes, “Yeah,” you squeaked before clearing your throat. “I mean, yes. I’m sorry I missed your name when we talked.”

He was nodding for a brief moment, his eyes darting over towards the bar before taking a few steps closer to you and leaning down. “There’s a restaurant down the street. They’ve got pretty good sushi. You want to get the hell out of here?”

“Oh, my god yes!” The tips of your ears felt hot as you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole but Bucky didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. Instead, he offered up his right arm and you looped yours into it without hesitation.

Melody’s brow shot up out of surprise, “B-but that was only the first round! There are still two more.”

“I don’t think we need a round two,” Bucky said, the same charming smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and making his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah,” you laughed, in a teasing tone. “This round just might go to Cupid after all.”

Three years later.

Lights twinkled in the living room of your apartment, it was god awful early and you’d carefully planned today. Christmas day and you’d been waiting for this moment for two years now. Quickly and quietly you snuck out of the bedroom where Bucky lay wrapped up in the blankets and made your way to the front closet.

It was hard being sneaky when your boyfriend was a super spy. But after a lot of careful planning, misdirections, and a lot of help from Sam, you’d managed to do it and Bucky was none the wiser.

Tiptoeing towards the hall closet that Bucky never used you opened the squeaky hinged door in just the way so it made no noise. Reaching blindly into the black of the closet you felt around, past the dozen unused coats, jackets, scarves, and hats your hand met the back of the closet wall. Sliding quietly until your fingers brushed the cold metal you were looking for.

Jackpot.

Fingers wrapped around your prize as you gave a firm but gentle tug. A pristine, adult-sized, bright red and creamy wood seat Flex Flyer sled emerged complete with an enormous red bow.

Stifling a giggle you set it down.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek tore out of your throat as you jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air.

“James Barnes,” you scolded, heart beating a million miles an hour. “What have I said about sneaking up on me?”

“You were being sneaky first,” he said, brows drawn together as he tried to look around you. “What you hiding doll face?”

“Nothing!” You lied, spreading your arms and legs to hide your surprise gift.

It was at that moment you heard the vibration from Bucky’s phone clutched in his hand, the man tried to not look sheepish as he not so covertly pressed the silence button.

Suspicion immediately filled you, “Bucky? What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” He shot back, his brow knits in suspicion.

It was a standoff.

The two of you staring each other down in the dark of the hallway in your matching Christmas pajamas. Someone knocking on the front door startled you both before Bucky cursed under his breath, pointing at you, “Don’t follow me.”

His instruction surprised you as he brushed past you in the small hallway. You scoffed under your breath, “You’re in your PJ’s Buck, how far are you going?”

Bucky paused before going around the corner, “I mean it.” There was another soft but hurried knock and he cursed before disappearing.

A tisk of disapproval escaped you, but urgency filled your movements the second he was out of sight. Hands shaking slightly you hurried, pulling the sled out from the closet with as much silence as you could muster before dashing the Christmas tree. Stuffing the sled behind the tree, a few bulbs swinging back and forth as you fumbled to fluff the crumpled bow on Bucky’s surprise.

A cacophony of hushed grumbles and whispers came from the front door, you could have sworn you heard Sam as the door closed with a thunk and the lock turned. In a matter of seconds Bucky was coming around the corner again, an enormous gold box gripped in his hands affixed with a brilliant glittering green bow.

It was clear that Bucky didn’t see you immediately as he juggled the wobbly box and tried to remain quiet as he did so.

“Whatcha, got there?”

Bucky startled, socked feet skidding to a halt just at the corner of the couch as the box wobbled in his hands again. Frustrated and accusatory blue eyes narrowed, “What are you doing in here?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

“What are you doing in here?”

“You better not be shaking presents.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll have you know I haven’t shaken a present since I was ten. What’s in the box, Jamie?”

Bucky flinched a little, his one weakness was when you called him Jamie. His shoulders sagged a little as his grip on the box tightened, “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. The mantle clock began to ding for the early morning hour. Five AM came so early now. “Do you want to open our gifts now?”

Bucky pursed his lips, body jerking as the box tried to throw itself from his hands. “I think now is best.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the prospect of what the box could contain. But your eyes flitted over to the space behind the tree where you’d stuffed Bucky’s surprise and the anxious feeling grew tenfold as you thought about the question you were going to ask him once he’d seen it.

Clearing his throat Bucky nodded towards the Christmas tree and the traditional present opening space. Dutifully you sat down in the chair, eyes darting over behind the tree to where your gift sat. “Um, mine's not wrapped.”

“That’s alright,” he said, setting the box at your feet as it rattled all on its own now that it was on the floor. “Where is mine and we’ll do them on the count of three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers tapping the edges of your box. “Yours is behind the tree.”

You saw his eyes dart over to the tree and then back down to you, “On three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers poised to rip at the bow on top of the gift. “One.”

“Two,” Bucky echoed, taking a step closer to the tree.

“Three!”

Your fingers began tearing at the bow on top of the gift box as it rattled against the floor. Pushing back the loose gold paper and terrible tape job before, POP!

Two of the most adorable brown eyes you’d ever seen stared up at you. You were stunned for a moment, staring down at the cutest little paws and wet nose you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“OHMYGODAPUPPY!!”

The shrieking sob spilled past your lips as you pulled the squirming pup into your arms, its tiny tongue licking and sniffing all over your face and mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as the little bundle in your arms wiggled, squirmed, and kissed your face everywhere; its bottom wiggling so much they tumbled out of your arms and into your lap.

“Oh my god,” you blubbered, holding the precious little one to you. “Bucky! He’s so cute. Oh, it’s a she. She’s so cute, James. Oh god! Oh my god, I love her so much. I can't—I can’t believe this! This is real right? Do I get to keep her? Bucky?”

Looking up Bucky was angled away from you, the lights of the Christmas tree gleaming off of his arm as he held onto his new sled. His fingers found the tag as he stared at it in the dim lighting. 

He sniffled briefly before he began to read, “Roses are red, violets are blue, do me the—the honor—the honor of spending my life with you?”

Teary blue eyes turned towards you as you held the squirming puppy in your arms. “Doll,” he squeaked out with a sniffle as a few tears began to slip. “You…”

Looking up at him from your seat you reached into the side table drawer pulled out a distinctive black ring box and opened it. Inside, a single simple gold band that had Bucky’s breath catching.

“Will you,” you croaked out, clearing your throat a little more and juggling your new bundle of joy in your arms. “Will you marry me, James Buchanan Barns?”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he lowered the sled to the floor, and then himself. Bucky knelt before you, down on one knee, and reached forward towards the little puppy squirming in your arms. His fingers brushed against a tiny piece of string attached to the bow, you’d missed it but he lifted the dangling object for your inspection. A beautiful golden ring with what had to be the most enormous diamond you’d ever seen.

Your shocked watery gaze met Bucky’s impossibly blue eyes, “Only if you say yes too.”

The puppy leaped down from your lap, content to explore their new apartment as you slid down and onto Bucky’s lap. Arms wrapping around his shoulders and kissing him harder than you ever had before. Warmth blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s lips parted briefly with a light moan, kissing one another with dizzying urgency.

Gasping for air the two of you parted briefly, planting pecking kisses against one another lips.

“Is that a yes,” he husked, his hands sliding up and down your back.

“Yes, it’s a yes, Jamie.”

Grinning up at you, Bucky cradled you against him, “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.”

 “Of course I’d say yes,” you whispered, holding onto him tightly. “After all,  you did get me that puppy I’ve always wanted.”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he held you tightly and buried his face against your chest, his shoulders shaking in what could only be a relief, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blue-Eyes.”

END

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [12]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 11 | Fic Masterlist | Part 13

Prince Yeosang.

The fourth son born to the King and Queen of Joseon, was among the most widely recognised princes in the nation, though not for reasons one might consider positive. Unlike his numerous brothers and sisters, he adamantly resisted marriage despite reaching a suitable age.

But of course, his singledom was not the main reason for the constant chatter about him. The real cause for the heightened attention was the prominent birthmark beside his left eye.

In Joseon, beauty held immense significance, particularly for members of the royal family, who were deemed superior and held to higher standards than the commoners. Consequently, the prince's distinctive mark marked him as an anomaly within the royal lineage.

Throughout his life, Yeosang had been accustomed to the constant scrutiny that came with being perceived as a defect. From what he understood, even his own parents had reacted with alarm upon witnessing the sizable red birthmark on the side of his face when he was born. In reality, the mark didn't diminish his attractiveness, but societal taboos surrounding such markings led people to overlook his overall appeal and fixate solely on the spot.

As a result, he rejected all marriage proposals, having observed the disdainful glances directed at him by potential candidates. The thought of being wedded to someone who did not genuinely appreciate him was unappealing. Besides, he loathed the constant parade of pampered girls presented to him annually.

He would prefer to remain alone for the rest of his life than be tied down to any of those brats. Having always believed that no one could ever empathise with the pain of having such a mark on their face, he was more than astonished to discover you proudly displaying your scar. What's more, you stood in stark contrast to any of the snobbish noblewomen he had met.

It was when he was evading his many princely obligations meant to prepare him for the throne, despite being fourth in line, that he unexpectedly came across you, the beautiful stranger, while seeking a brief escape in the garden. For the first time in a long while, his heart quickened as he approached you, fearing he might lose sight of your enchanting presence.

"Allow me to express our deepest respect, Your Highness. This is Lady Park, the esteemed wife of General Park. Mistress, may I present to you Prince Yeosang." As if sensing his intentions, the servant standing beside you quickly clarified your identity.

However, if she thought this revelation would dissuade the fourth prince, she was sorely mistaken as Yeosang only smiled wider. So, you were the famous Miss Jang, currently the talk of the town. Knowing that you were here only to discuss wedding arrangements, he deduced that you and the general were not yet properly wedded.

That meant not all hope was lost for him.

Your eyes widened at Eunsook's words, the realisation sinking in that you were in the presence of a prince. Without wasting another second, you performed the formal bow you had practised countless times with the head maid before visiting the palace. Greeting the prince respectfully, you maintained the poise and grace befitting your status as the general's wife, "It is my greatest honour to be in your presence, Your Highness. Forgive this humble subject for failing to recognise you."

Up close, Yeosang's admiration for you only intensified. The genuine respect you demonstrated meant more to him than you would ever know. The prince had rarely been shown sincerity, and he knew then that he was right about your purity. Unlike any other noblewoman, you didn't eye him with even the slightest hint of disgust.

She's the one.

"Please rise, Miss Jang. It is quite alright; no harm is done. If anything, it feels very refreshing not to be recognised in an instant." He extended a hand to assist you, gently lifting you from your bow. Your eyes widened in wonder, and you offered him a grateful smile, not recalling Eunsook mentioning this part of the greeting.

Meanwhile, the head maid was in a state of panic, realising that the prince seemed interested in you. He had disregarded your title as Lady Park and had taken the opportunity to be close to you. Seonghwa would not be pleased if he found out.

"I'll be honest, I have yet to meet anyone who adores flowers as much as I do. It's almost as if fate brought us together." Yeosang said, chuckling as he took in your eyes sparkling with sincere enthusiasm. You seemed innocently happy just to make a new friend.

How precious.

"Would you care to take a stroll with me, my lady? I know of a perfect spot with a view that surpasses even this one."

Eunsook's stomach sank as you agreed to his invitation. It wasn't that she blamed you for being unfaithful to her master; she knew you were simply too clueless to see through the prince's intentions. Her concern was for the potential aftermath of the situation – what would happen if the general were to learn about Yeosang's interest in you and your willingness to spend time with him.

In another part of the palace at the War and Strategy Department building, the atmosphere was the furthest thing from peaceful as the words spoken by His Majesty weighed heavily on your husband's heart, "I'm so sorry, my boy. It seems your wedding will have to wait. Relations with the neighbouring nation, Ruhon, have not been very good lately. I fear war is inevitable this time, and... we need you."

Seonghwa sank into one of the chairs, his eyes blinking rapidly as he absorbed the weight of the words just spoken, "War...? H-how serious is the situation? And why haven't I been informed about the strained relations with Ruhon?"

San, taking a seat beside him, sighed and responded, "We've been attempting peace negotiations with them for months, but an agreement seems elusive. They've been making unreasonable demands. We didn't want to burden you with any of this at first, we wanted you to focus on your new marriage. But the situation has escalated, and it appears we're left with no choice but to prepare for the worst."

The King continued with a heavy heart, "Unfortunately, despite our efforts, we haven't been able to reach an agreement with Ruhon regarding their latest demands. They are now threatening to settle matters through force. We must start preparing and strategising immediately; their attack could come at any time."

The implications of the impending conflict raced through your husband's mind, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. The realisation that he would have to lead the army into battle overshadowed the joy of his recent marriage. Just when he thought things were finally looking up for the two of you, the looming threat of war cast a dark shadow over your lives.

He pressed a hand against his head, eyes shut tight, muttering, "I could be gone for months or even years..."

"I'm sorry, Seonghwa-yah. I know this is not what you expected, especially right after your marriage. I wish we didn't have to ruin your plans like this." The King apologised with a solemn expression.

With a shake of his head, the general replied, "No, Your Majesty, I understand the gravity of the situation. My duty lies in protecting this nation. I promise I won't let anything jeopardise its safety, even if it means altering my personal plans."

Nodding, the ruler pursed his lips appreciatively, "We thank you for your dedication, General Park. We'll need you to lead our forces and devise a strategy to repel the impending threat from Ruhon."

"I'll do everything in my power to safeguard our country, my King. You have my word." Seonghwa knew that safeguarding his nation also meant keeping his own wife safe. As much as he hated it, there was no time to dwell on the disappointment of the changed plans; he needed to get to work immediately.

Transitioning into his professional demeanour, he interlocked his hands as he met the gaze of the ruler of Joseon, "When is my deployment to the war zone scheduled?"

His Majesty sighed deeply before answering him, "You have a few days to spend with your wife; the troops are still establishing the base as we speak. You can head over when it's ready. General Officer Song has also been notified and will be there to start strategising in detail with you by then."

Following the finalisation of the main details, the meeting came to a close. As the general prepared to leave, the King stopped him once more. Before he could offer yet another apology, Seonghwa intervened, "You don't owe me any apology, Your Majesty. None of this is your fault; you've done your best to protect your people. Now it's my turn to perform my duty. I... I only have one thing to ask of you while I'm gone..."

The ruler nodded, aware of the request that would follow, "I ask that you watch over my wife for me and make sure she's well protected until my return," His Majesty agreed, a hand squeezing your husband's shoulder, "Of course, my boy. You don't even have to ask."

As your husband headed towards the cherry blossom garden to find you, the unexpected sight of you with the fourth prince caught him off guard. Suppressing a sigh, he shook his head, preventing another wave of irrational jealousy from taking over. He reminded himself that, as San had assured him, you were his. Perhaps, he reasoned, you were simply making new friends.

Moreover, he recalled Prince Yeosang's firm stance on not settling down. Seonghwa reassured himself that there should be nothing more to this than platonic bonding.

Catching sight of her master approaching, Eunsook's panic began to seize her. Mentally preparing herself for the incoming wrath, she knew he wouldn't be pleased to see you spending time with another man. Turning back to you, she hoped to catch your attention, intending to warn you of his presence. However, you were too engrossed in your conversation with the prince, discussing your favourite flowers.

"I think my favourite might be the lotus flower, but that's probably because my husband has dedicated an entire pond full of it to me." The general's heart swelled with affection at your words, confirming that his trust in you was well-placed.

That's my girl.

Before the prince could respond and tell you that he could give you so much more, Seonghwa had finally arrived behind you.

"You're here, master," The head maid greeted, but he waved her off and bowed at Yeosang, "Yes, I'm here now. Thank you for keeping my wife company while I was busy, Your Highness. If there is nothing else, we will be taking our leave now."

Brightening up at your husband's presence, you stepped over to him, and he instinctively circled an arm around your back. Despite the enjoyable time with your new friend, the instant comfort of being with Seonghwa made you feel at home again. The fourth prince's eye twitched at the interaction, but he did his best to maintain a smile on his handsome face.

The elderly woman was genuinely surprised; she blinked as she tried to comprehend her master's calm demeanour. It was unexpected, especially considering how unhappy he had been when you were around Yunho and San. But she found relief in not witnessing him explode or resort to his usual passive-aggressive self.

"Ahh yes, General Park, off to make arrangements for your upcoming wedding ceremony, I presume?" The prince's tone carried a hint of smugness, almost as if he were privy to some knowledge.

Your husband's expression dimmed at the reminder; there would be no wedding plans for some time. Mustering a cordial smile, he bowed lightly, "Something along those lines, Your Highness." He had no intention of breaking the news to you in this manner, and he certainly didn't feel obligated to provide Yeosang with any explanations, so a little fabrication wouldn't hurt.

As if on cue, a few palace servants finally caught up to the prince, out of breath, "There you are, Your Highness! Please don't make our jobs any more difficult than they already are. Will you return to the library with us? The royal tutor is still waiting for you." Yeosang sighed and reluctantly turned to bid you goodbye.

"Very well then. It was nice talking to you, Miss Jang. I hope to see you again. And you, General Park." You and Seonghwa bowed politely as he left the garden with the poor servants trailing miserably behind.

The general did his best to brush aside the prince's borderline irritating behaviour, particularly the way he insisted on addressing you as Miss Jang despite your change in marital status. In the grand scheme of things, such trivialities held no importance now. Chances were slim that you would ever meet Prince Yeosang again, given the impending war and the duties that awaited your husband.

With a deep breath, he focused on the immediate task at hand – spending precious moments with you before he had to leave for the war. Gently tucking a strand of stray hair behind your ear, he offered a warm smile, "Come, my love. Let's make our way home."

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you questioned, "We're heading home already? Aren't we supposed to meet His and Her Majesty?" The head maid shared your astonishment; she was equally puzzled.

Seonghwa let out a small sigh and nodded, "Yes, there's been a change of plans. I'll explain on our way home."

As you walked back to the waiting carriage, your husband's mind raced with thoughts of how to break the news to you. You had only just overcome a traumatising ordeal and were finally getting your happily ever after. The daunting task of telling you that he would have to leave for war for an indefinite amount of time loomed over him. He wondered about your possible reactions and couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether he would return.

Despite being the great General Park, he couldn't escape the reality that, at the end of the day, he was still human.

Settling down into the vehicle, you noticed your husband staring anxiously out the window, lost in thought. Placing a hand over his, you softly called out, "Seonghwa," When he turned to meet your concerned gaze, you inquired, "What is it? What was the emergency meeting about?" He grasped your hands, squeezing them, as he prepared himself to share the news with you.

"I... I'm so sorry, my love, but our wedding ceremony will have to be postponed... indefinitely," As disappointing as that was, you wanted to know the actual reason, so you nodded and waited for him to continue, "That's because... there is an incoming war."

He didn't need to elaborate for you to grasp the situation immediately. Naturally, it meant he would have to go and fight. As the most promising general in all of Joseon, the King's most trusted warrior, if it wasn't him going off to fight, then who else? Your heart clenched uncomfortably at the revelation, but you understood it was only part of his job, so you smiled reassuringly at him, "Oh... I-I understand, Seonghwa. Wh-when are you leaving then?"

Raising his brows in surprise, it took him a minute to react, "W-wait, are you not upset with any of this? I will be leaving you, and it could be for months or even years... and you're okay with it?"

You sighed shakily, the smile now dropping.

"Of course, I'm not okay with it... If only it were possible, I would like to keep you all to myself, but it's your job to defend the nation. You're General Park, and I'm so proud of you for that. You've won so many battles; I'm certain this will be another easy victory for you. As your wife, I will do my duty to safeguard our home until your return."

Just as he believed his love for you couldn't deepen further, your words proved him wrong. He felt incredibly fortunate to have such an understanding wife. He should have known better; he didn't know why he expected you to throw a tantrum. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and pushing your head into the crook of his neck, "You're right; I'm an idiot. I hope you know you're not making it any easier for me to leave you."

Despite the tears welling up in your eyes, you chuckled, trying to maintain a positive outlook amid the looming dread. Inside, you were trembling, and letting him go was the last thing you wanted. Yet, you had to face your reality, "You haven't answered me, Seonghwa. When are you leaving?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his hold around you before whispering, "In a few days, my love. A few days."

« Preview of Part 13 »

"Your Majesty, the fourth prince requests an audience with you." The Queen arched an eyebrow, surprised that her most rebellious son would willingly seek to meet her. She had anticipated him doing everything in his power to avoid her due to her constant nagging for him to settle down.

"Hm, does he now? Allow him to enter."

With a deep bow, the eunuch complied, "Yes, Your Majesty, as you wish," before exiting the Queen's chambers to fetch her son.

"The fourth prince, Your Majesty," Yeosang made a grand entrance with a half-hearted bow and greeting, "It's been a while, Mother."

Her Majesty snorted in disbelief, but it no longer surprised her. He had always been the most disobedient among all of her children. She tried to be understanding, acknowledging that his life hadn't been as easy as his other siblings due to the birthmark on his face. This understanding explained her leniency with his attitude.

"What a surprise, Yeosang. To what do I owe the pleasure, my son? If this is regarding more funds or approval for another one of your expeditions out of the palace, you can forget it. I don't want to hear it unless you're telling me you wish to get married—"

With a smirk, the prince crossed his arms over his chest, "That's exactly what I am here for, Mother. I came to tell you I have changed my mind and would agree to get married, on one condition."

The Queen immediately straightened in her seat, wondering if she had heard him wrong, "Y-you're willing to get married?" He nodded, and she widened her eyes, "Name it; what is your condition?"

"It has to be the eldest Miss Jang promised to General Park Seonghwa. It's her or nothing, Mother."

Y'all, my new and final semester of uni starts next week. Here's a heads-up; updates are probably not going to be as frequent, but I will do my best! Also, I apologise if this part felt like a filler chapter HAHA gotta let the drama build up slowly.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ v ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: sorry it took a while compared to the other chapters. i finished up my lab reports in my surveying class. this is not edited nor is it beta read and i dont remember much on what happened during the 2018-2021 seasons so pardon me if there are inaccuracies. anyways, welcome to max's pov. u can say im stalling on the shitshow that will happen once max discovers that reader resigned. lemme know what you think.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1

masterlist.

2018

“Who’s that?”

Daniel looks up, cheeks stuffed with the sandwich he was eating for lunch, “Who?”

Max cringes internally. His mother always told him and Victoria to not talk when his mouth was full, she called it bad manners, and now, he is understanding where she was coming from with those lectures. Nevertheless, he doesn't reprimand Daniel. Instead, he gestures to the girl standing a few meters away from their table in the Red Bull hospitality staff cafeteria, who was happily chatting with two Red Bull senior engineers whom Max recognizes to be Elijah Stuart and Richard Fox.

It is the first time Max has seen her. A new employee perhaps? Perhaps not. She lacks the company standard uniform.

Daniel trails his line of sight to where Max has pointed, “Which one? Richard?”

“No,” Max groans. Daniel blinks.

“Elijah?”

This is quickly becoming annoying.

“The girl, Daniel,” Max says, his exasperation bleeding through his words. “She’s not wearing a Red Bull polo.”

Daniel’s brows rise to his hairline, head snapping back to Max, “[Name]?”

Then, a shit-eating grin erupts on his lips. “Are you interested in her?”

“She’s not my type,” Max’s denial comes quickly. Is it even considered denial if it’s the truth? In his twenty almost twenty-one years being alive, Max never really put a lot of time into thinking about what his ideal type would look like. But he is sure that the woman of his dreams will look very far from the woman who was successful in catching his attention because you are wearing a black shirt in a sea of Red Bull polo shirts.

You with your eyes that forms into tiny crescent moons once your face breaks into a grin, you with your smile that shows too much gums and too much teeth, you with your hands that moves too much when you talk, and you with that too loud and too obnoxious laugh that comes even with the lamest of jokes. You’re like Daniel in a way. All happy sunshine vibes.

Max is watching you close, observing how you were interacting with Richard and Elijah. They're old men and no one should look this happy while talking to boring, old, white men, who worked more than four decades in the engineering industry so they only know how to speak boomer language and everything engineering. Surprisingly, Elijah and Richard seem to be having fun talking to you. A miracle on its own because they never even look that happy talking to Daniel Ricciardo and everybody in Red Bull Racing adores sunshine honey badger, Daniel Ricciardo.

“I didn't say anything.”

“You're thinking about it.”

“How would you know what I’m thinking?”

“Because you’re currently on a quest to erase my singledom. I can put two and two together.”

Daniel snorts, crossing his arms over his chest, “Maybe I just want to let you meet new friends.”

“I have enough friends.”

“You don't have friends that are not racers.”

Max presses his lips in a thin line.

“She’s my manager, by the way.” says Daniel, leaning back into his seat.

“What happened to Nick?”

“He’s on leave,” Daniel says. “His wife’s giving birth soon. She’s my temporary manager for a few months. Or I don't know, maybe the whole season.”

Max brows rise in pleasant surprise but says nothing.

“Now that I think about it, she’s around your age. How old are you again? Twenty-two?”

“Twenty,” Max corrects. His birthday is still months away from pre-season. On the end of September.

“Ah, she's older than you. Oh wait, here she comes. Hey, [Name]! Here!”

Max flinches and his heart begins ramming against his ribs erratically that he thinks he’ll undergo cardiac arrest in a matter of seconds. He does a double take—why am I even panicking?—then forces himself to calm down and straightens up in his seat. His shoulders and neck are still considerably stiff and his palms are slowly becoming sweaty. He swallows an invisible stone in his throat.

“¡Hola mi amiga, [Name]!” Daniel greets and his Spanish accent sounds off that it makes [Name], who stopped right in front of their table, giggle and when Max looks up at her through his lashes, it almost feels like the world is turning too rapidly on its axis and it’s making Max dizzy. Daniel and her do a friendly handshake—when did they reach this level of friendship?

“Hola, Daniel,” she greets, smiling. Your accent reminds Max of Carlos, but unlike Carlos, who possesses a very distinct Spanish accent, yours sounded subtler than his and it's mixed with the charming rhythm of words that reminds Max of sunsets in the south. You pronounce Daniel’s name like it has two syllables instead of three. Dan-yel instead of Dan-i-el. Suddenly, Max is curious as to how his name will sound if it originates from her mouth, how the syllables will roll off her tongue. Max will still sound like Max. Nobody will mispronounce that name. But Emilian and Verstappen? How will you say it?

“Hi Max.”

The Max sounds plain even though you’re smiling when you greet him. She didn't say Max the same way she said Daniel, whose name was uttered with a certain fondness.

“Hello,” Max’s chin dips slightly into a nod.

“Eat with us,” Daniel invites and he is already dragging a chair from a nearby table to their table before Max can fully register what he’s doing.

“You sure?” you ask, brows raising slightly at Daniel’s abrupt invitation.

Daniel waves his hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah, Max wouldn't mind. Would you, Max?”

Suddenly, two pairs of eyes are on him and his throat feels dry. He cannot speak. No words leave his mouth. Empty brain, zero thoughts. In the end, he nods and you join the two for lunch.

Max frequently sees you following Daniel in the paddock. You remind him of a dog. No, even dogs do not follow their owners this much. Or do they? Max wouldn't know. He is a cat person anyway.

Max’s main point is this: not even the other racers’ managers follow them around this much. Not even Max’s manager follows him this much. (No one tell Max that this was due to the fact that he scares his own manager. Imagine a middle-aged man scared of a Dutch racer half his age with anger issues.) But you follow Daniel around like he is the sun and you are planet Earth and you need to be constantly revolving around him to achieve universal balance. And for some reason, your actions cause something odd to stir up in Max. He is annoyed. Of what? Maybe because you are so good to Daniel? Maybe he wants someone to be like that for him, too? His manager is not as proactive as you. Yeah, maybe that’s it.

And if you are not with Daniel, which is a rare occurrence, you’re hovering around the Red Bull mechanics. You even go as far as bringing them coffee in the mornings and that annoys Max even more. Daniel, he can understand if you brought him coffee, but the others? No. You don't even bring Christian Horner coffee. Why only them?

Whatever.

You are such a suck up. Max hates suck ups.

Baku 2018 was a bad race, a total nightmare for everyone in the team. The moment Max got out of that car, he was burning. Figuratively, at least. The engine of the RB14 is the one burning, in a literal sense. Horner is red in the face when he sees Max and Daniel, and he yells at them to cool down before they do the formal stuff of apologizing and dealing with the FIA and all the formalities that Max rather thinks are bullshit.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice raising, when he sees you approaching. “Aren't you supposed to be with Daniel?”

“Water?” you offer the water bottle to him and Max knows full well it’s supposed to be for Daniel. Max saw you offering it to Daniel earlier when the two of them stepped into the Red Bull garage after retiring from the race but the older man has declined your offer before stomping off somewhere else to cool down.

“No.”

He is not going to take the scraps of someone else, even though he is thirsty as hell.

You nod, shrugging your shoulders and saying, “Okay.”

You crouch on the floor and put the water bottle in front of him with a neatly folded face towel balancing on top of it. Then, you rise and walk away, leaving Max to glare at your back as you fade away from his view. Once you disappeared from his line of sight, he drags his gaze back to the water bottle and towel.

He drinks the water and then uses the towel to wipe his sweat. At that moment, Max decides that he will never allow himself to be beaten by Daniel ever again.

Max remembers the anger he feels when he discovers the news of Daniel leaving Red Bull.

“Was this because of Baku?!”

Daniel tries to explain his situation as calmly as he can but Max is all fire and flames and fury. He is only hearing Daniel’s words, not listening to them because all that he registers are the words “leaving” and “Renault” and “goodbye” and the rest are all just a bunch of ringing noise. Max knows where Daniel is coming from because he isn't dumb nor naive and he is aware that he is quickly becoming the team favorite, but did Daniel really need to leave?

Daniel’s leaving, Daniel’s leaving, Daniel’s leaving. He’ll have no friends left on the team.

Max’s fear of being left behind is often masqueraded as anger. The thing about Max is that his pain always turns to anger and his anger turns into violence.

He barely registers what he has done to Daniel until he sees his teammate—former teammate—on the floor, eyes wide and clutching his cheek. Max’s fist trembles. They are both horrified at what Max has done.

“Daniel, I—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?!” Daniel scrambles to a stand and lunges at Max. Max fears he’s going to get punched, too, and maybe he deserves it because he is the one who has thrown his fist first, but [Name] appears, quick as lightning, and rushes in between Daniel and Max.

“Daniel, calm down.”

Max is surprised you can hold Daniel down on your own. Daniel was a racer, had been since 2011, so he possessed the physical strength of a veteran racer and you, well, you're not. You’re shorter than them both, too.

Daniel is turning red in the face and fury paints his features. Max wants to fight, answer Daniel’s anger with his own. Fire to fire. Let them both burn until they achieve ruination.

“Nick!” you cry and at the call of his name, Nick appears quickly. “Hold Daniel!”

Your hands clutch Max’s nape and forearm and you quickly drag him away from the furious Daniel, leaving Nick to hold Daniel off and calm him down.

His ears are still ringing. Even after he's dragged away from the chaos. Even after he's brought into an empty room. Even after he sits down on a plush chair, face scarily blank while his mind runs for miles.

The ringing sound disappears when you tap his shoulder and asks, “You okay, big boy?”

His brain becomes a blank slate.

Max nods hesitantly, “Yeah.”

His knuckles are still tingling. He can still feel the remnants of the violence of his fist, can still feel the sting when his knuckles met Daniel’s cheek.

“Injuries?”

Why do you only speak words instead of full sentences?

You scan Max’s face for injuries and Max holds his breath when you lean your face closer to see clearly.

“No—No injuries.”

Your shoulders sag in relief, “Good. Thank fuck. Horner wouldn't be happy if golden boy got clocked.”

You pull yourself away and Max feels like he can breathe again. Then, you pivot on your heels.

“I’ll get you water.”

“No!”

You flinch and then turn to him slowly, your eyes growing wide and mouth falling slightly open. Max mirrors your surprise. You blink at him. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, your forehead creases and you close your mouth.

“No need to yell at me,” you mumble but Max hears it loud and clear and now, his anger is spiking up again.

“Fine, go!”

You raise a brow at him, giving him a long look. A sigh escapes your lips. You leaned against the door, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why aren't you leaving?”

“You don't want me to,” you say in a know-it-all tone.

“I told you to go!”

“What you want and what you say are two different things. Don't worry, I’ll stay for as long as you need.”

Max doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he sits there in the silence with his thoughts and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He’s sure you noticed that he’s trying not to cry, not with you standing in front of him. Max always makes weird faces when he forces himself not to cry.

But then you turn your back on him, not to leave, but to give him the privacy he needs.

His tears fall silently.

The 2018 WDC was Lewis Hamilton, who garnered 408 points by the end of the year. Max finishes in fourth, only after the Ferrari drivers, Sebastian Vettel and Kimi Raikkonen. The world thinks it is not a bad result. Max is still young and he’s battling three WDCs for points. But Max thinks otherwise. Winning is number one. The rest is just losing. The only thing he knows is he's not good enough. Jos is thinking of the same thing, too. He knows it.

Everytime someone congratulates him, Max has to bite his tongue and fake a smile. He can only feel anger, for finishing up fourth. It's like people are constantly reminding him of what he failed to become—a champion.

Red Bull throws an after party at the hotel bar, like they do at every Grand Prix, but Max chose not to go so he can drown in his own bitterness in the privacy of his hotel room.

A series of knocks on the door disturbs his ongoing rampage. He is sure it is his manager who’s behind the door. Archie possesses a horrible habit of appearing when he is not needed and not appearing when he is.

“What?!”

“Open the door, sour loser.”

That's not Archie.

Max’s jaw tenses. He marches towards the door and aggressively throws it open. It is you who stands behind it, an unimpressed expression printed on your face. Why is Daniel’s manager here?

“Who are you calling a loser?”

You sigh, peering your head in to look at his hotel room. You wince.

“Horner is not gonna be happy with how you trashed everything,” you begin. Max may or may not have thrown things across the room, punched a table and the wall, and accidentally broke a hotel-owned wall decoration. “Did you punch the wall?”

He did. But he’s not going to tell you that. Max hopes you don’t notice the peeling skin on his knuckles—red and angry and bloody.

“Can you leave?” he asks through gritted teeth. He hears you sigh. You do that a lot when you’re around him. Why?

You rummage through your tote bag—cream-colored with peach prints, the same one you wear all year round—and pull out a cold can of beer and a face towel.

“Lemme see.”

You reach for Max’s hand, which causes him to jerk back, his hand going behind him. You pause.

“I told you to leave.”

“Okay,” you shrug. You grab his wrist before he could dodge and you thrust the cold canned beer and face towel into his hand.

“Put this on your knuckles,” your tone leaves no room for further arguments. “Danny’s worried ‘bout you.”

“If he’s so worried about me, he shouldn't be leaving me,” Max snaps.

“Have you tried listening to his reasons?”

“Of course, I did!” Max is offended that you even feel the need to ask him that.

You purse your lips, “Maybe you did listen, just never tried to understand. I’d do the same thing, too, if I was Danny. No need to stay in a place where we’re no longer wanted.”

Max opens his mouth to bark back. How dare you utter such nonsense? You only stayed here for a year! ? You will never understand the relationship between Daniel and Max. You will never know Daniel the same way Max knows him.

“He isn't going to win anywhere else. We are going to get a new engine and the car will be better than this year. We’ll be better than Ferrari or Mercedes. We’ll be champions.”

I’ll be a champion, but Max leaves it unsaid.

“I know, heard it from the mechanics,” you shrug. “Maybe Danny won't win in another machinery. Maybe he will. Who knows? But if the team wanted Danny then that’s better. A team that wants and prioritizes Danny will treat him better than any team could. And right now, that's what he needs, a good team that supports him well.”

“Red Bull prioritizes him, too.”

“You're lyin’ to yourself, you know it. You of all people should know how shitty it feels to be number two and Danny is number two right now.”

Silence.

Number two. Cursed number two.

“Are you gonna follow Daniel, too?”

Max will not be surprised if you do.

You shrug.

“Let's wait and see.”

Then, you turn around and walk away, the soft click of your beige flats echoing in the hotel hallway until it fades into silence, while Max stands there at the open door, a cold canned beer and a face towel in his hand.

He uses the face towel to wipe the blood on his knuckle and uses the cold canned beer to help soothe the pain of forming bruises. Max wishes you brought something to ease the pain in his heart, too.

2019

The 2019 pre-season begins with Christian Horner saying that Archie, Max’s incompetent manager last year, has submitted a resignation letter. That makes Max Verstappen officially manager-less this year.

“For this season, since Daniel is no longer with us—” The corner of Max’s lips curve downwards. “[Name] does not have anyone to manage anymore. I was thinking of moving her to the engineering team but she was too efficient at managing Daniel last year. Would you mind if she becomes your manager? I assume you're both friends?”

Friends is not the appropriate term to describe what they are. Sure, they talked because Daniel talked with Max frequently and wherever Daniel was, [Name] is closely behind. Daniel also has this habit of dragging everyone into the conversation so no one will be left out. They also engaged in banter a few times, when Daniel’s not around and Max and her do not bother tolerating each other for the sake of the Australian racer.

For the most part, when Daniel is present, [Name] become the nicest person to ever grace the room, even Mother Teresa is put to shame, but when Daniel’s gone, [Name]’s saintess act disappears and enters an asshole who'll argue with Max and annoy him to oblivion. She absolutely vexes him.

Also, she's a terrible suck up. Max hates suck ups.

“She’ll be good for you,” Horner adds.

“Do you believe so?”

“I know she can handle you.”

Max raises a single questioning brow, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nevertheless, Max has no choice. Horner believes she’ll be good for him and Max prefers having her as a manager than having none at all. God forbid he’ll be stuck manager-less. He can barely organize anything to save his life.

Even though they're not perfectly civil with each other, Max cannot deny the fact that [Name] is a good manager. It is like she possesses the uncanny ability of knowing everything Max needs without having him to voice it out and you do it without Max having to ask you. Which works greatly for Max. He really isn't the best at asking what he needs and people cannot mindread so he just sucks everything up until a simple thing gets blown out of proportion and he ends up blaming someone else for a problem that should have been solved had he voiced it out in the first place.

“PR sent me this,” you walk into the room early in the morning and Max groans because he’s still dealing with the hangover from last night so he cannot deal with your annoyingness right now. Despite hearing his dilemma, you put the iPad on the table and Max sees a picture of him drunk as fuck in a bar somewhere in Barcelona. He winces, looking away and not bothering to read the caption.

“They want you to clear shit up.”

“What's there to be cleared about?”

“People think we're datin’, darlin’. That's what you need to clear up.”

Max’s eyes go comically wide. Him and [Name]....dating? A blush graces Max’s cheeks.

You swipe down and show Max a video. The clip shows you walking out of the bar, warding off people with a passed out Max on your shoulder.

There are two things that immediately entered Max’s head at that moment:

Wow. You're really strong.

What the fuck? When did this happen?

“I’ll get you an Advil and soup. In the meantime,” you open a word document on your iPad. “You read this. Prepared a script ‘cuz you can’t improvise shit. We’ll film a press release vid when I come back, aight?”

You are gone before Max can even nod his head.

[megamindsecretlair]

If I Took You Home, Part 2

Pairing: Dom!Kevin Atwater x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Food porn. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing, masterbation (male), fingering (female receiving), cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. D/s dynamics.

Summary: Your friends were all in relationships so that meant it was time to bug you about your singledom. Your blind date went a little too well. You expected the magic of the night to give away to clarity in the morning. You didn't know if you were breaking some kind of one night stand rules by spending the night. You try to sneak out undetected, but Kevin only proves that he knows how to wear us down.

Word Count: 7,041k

AO3 Link | Part 1

A/N: Hello, my loves. This was long, long, long overdue! I wanted to finish this yesterday. Ah well, what a sweet lullaby muahaha. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @amethyst09 @ciaqui @harmshake @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @twocentuar @westside-rot @yaachtynoboat711 @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout @bigsisbria @babybratzmaraj @darqchilddaydreamz @pinkpantheris @blackerthings @awerkofart @longpause-awkwardsmile @palmstreesallday @thadelightfulone @judymfmoody @eggnox @playgurlxoxo @shesstillshyy @multiversefanfics @tvchi

Some things became clearer in the light of day. As wakefulness encroached upon the sweet lullaby of sleep, you blinked your eyes sleepily at the unfamiliar room. Panic made your heartbeat increase as you tried to remember where the fuck you were.

You shifted on the bed, a particular ache between your legs making you wince. Oh yeah. Memories flooded you of every single nasty thing you did last night and let this virtual stranger do to you. The way he commanded, demanded, and delivered. It brought heat to your cheeks as you tried to think of how you could explain your night without breaking into song and dance.

Sex that good had to warrant a little bit of razzle dazzle right? A little bit of jazz hands. A little bit ohmygodwhencanwedothatagain?!

Kevin snored gently beside you and you half turned in the bed to watch him. He looked damn good up close and in repose. He had long eyelashes that rested against his cheeks. Juicy lips that puckered in his sleep. He slept on his stomach, hugging the pillow to his chest. His massive arms curled adorably beneath him. 

In the light of the morning, or afternoon, whenever it was, your nerves came screaming back. What was the protocol here? You’d never done anything like this and you were completely out of your element. Was it awkward to stay? Was it awkward to leave? 

He asked you to stay, sure, but what if he changed his mind? You needed time and space to think. Preferably away from the sight and smell of him. It only served to confuse you. Get you thinking about forever, when this was only supposed to be something fun. 

You felt like you should leave. Maybe it was you being nervous or those manners your grandmother beat into your head. You didn’t necessarily want to leave Kevin, but you didn’t want to make him go through the whole song and dance of exchanging numbers just because you slept over. Then wait by the phone for a thousand years before you finally catch on that he asked for your number out of a sense of duty rather than any actual interest.

Been there, done that. To hell with your friends. If they felt awkward because they were booed up and you were not, that was strictly a “them” problem. You took slow, measured breaths as you extricated yourself from the tangle of Kevin’s sheets and the warmth of his body. It was like sleeping next to a damn furnace. 

You stuck one leg out of the bed and immediately snatched it back with a tiny yelp. It was freezing in his apartment! You looked back at Kevin to determine if your squeak woke him up. His cute face scrunched up but he returned to snoring. Your heart was hammering out of your chest. You felt like you were sneaking out after putting your hand in the cookie jar. 

You looked towards the ceiling and took a few more breaths to calm yourself down. You stuck your foot back out, freezing cold air raising goosebumps on your leg. 

You slid out of the bed and worried that Kevin would wake up and see your not so flexible acrobatics to get out of his huge bed. You already had to hop a little to climb out. You hopped from foot to foot as your feet touched the freezing ground. 

It was bad enough Chicago was one of the coldest places you’d ever been. The way he kept his apartment, you might as well be standing on the top of Mount Everest. Your hair was probably a mess. Your breath worse. You cupped your hand to your mouth to check. Not terrible but could be better.

You inwardly groaned as you hunted for your clothes. Last night’s game of undressing from room to room lit up in your mind’s eye. Rolling waves of heat rolled down your spine as you remembered the look in his eyes. You smirked as you found your panties finally and then your bra in the bathroom. 

You hunted through the apartment, gathering all of your things and your heels. You placed everything on the back of his couch so that you could get dressed in peace. No sooner had you stuck one leg through your undies, did a deep voice clear itself behind you.

You yelped, spinning around to see Kevin leaning into the doorway. His eyes were half mast, sleepy, and he looked adorable rubbing his eyes. He leaned on one arm, his hip dipped as he leaned against the frame. Naked as sin and twice as fucking hot with his dick soft against his thigh.

“No goodbye kiss?” He asked.

“You fucking scared me!” You screamed. Your heart was already in your damn throat from sneaking about. Getting caught by Kevin somehow felt worse. 

Kevin smirked at you. “Still waiting on that kiss,” he said. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and looked at him. You wanted to be the cool one here. The levelheaded one. No, your world was not rocked last night. No, you weren’t hearing wedding bells in your head already. 

Kevin crooked his finger, beckoning you closer. The deep, subconscious desire to be commanded immediately obeyed, walking closer to him before you knew what the hell you were doing. Kevin watched you walk closer, not moving until you were close in front of him. Naked as the day you were born. 

He used that same finger to lift your chin and look at him in the eyes. He stared for a moment, long enough to make you feel nervous. But all he did was look. “Do you want to go home? Did I scare you last night?” 

“What? N-No!” You stumbled over your words, emphatically shaking your head. Oh god. He couldn’t possibly think you were leaving because of him? You shook your head again. “No, no, I swear.” 

Kevin lifted an eyebrow. “Why are you running then?” He asked.

You scoffed. “I’m not running,” you said and rolled your eyes. You were a grown adult. You didn’t run from anything, least of all the likes of Kevin Atwater. 

Kevin playfully frowned and looked from you to the pile of clothes on his couch. When he looked back at you, you giggled and crossed your arms. “Maybe, I just wanted my dress off the floor.” 

Kevin looked at you. “Maybe I was burning up underneath all your damn body heat.” You laughed but quickly stopped when you noticed that Kevin wasn’t laughing with you. 

“I had a fantastic night last night. Did you?” He asked. 

You nodded. Fantastic wasn’t even the right word. What would be better? Amazing? Mind-blowing? Phenomenal? Hell, the word you needed hadn’t been invented yet. “Incredible,” you finally agreed. 

“So what are you really doing?” He asked. 

Claire didn’t mention that he was a damn mind reader. You looked at him and sighed. “I wanted to give you a smooth out, in case…” you shrugged. Fuck, this was hard. Why was this hard? “In case you changed your mind.” 

Kevin nodded. “I’m pretty sure I promised a few things I still wanted to do with you today. We just met yesterday, but I think we really have something here. If I’m wrong, let me know.” 

“You’re not wrong. I feel comfortable with you,” you said. Mushy ass feelings just wasn’t your jam. But you had to pull on your big girl pants and give it straight. “I get in my head sometimes. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to keep this going if all you wanted was booty last night.” 

“If all I wanted was some ass, I could get that day in and out. I want you. Do you want me?” He asked. 

No hesitation. You nodded. “Very much so.” You smiled and he smiled back. 

“Good. Is there anything you want to talk about last night? Anything you didn’t like?” He asked. He grabbed your hand with his and pulled you closer. You looked down at your entwined hands, loving the absolute pretty picture you two painted. The joining of two brown hands like branches of the same tree. 

Your eyes also clued in to the length of his dick, getting harder by the moment. You’d seen him fully erect, he wasn’t there yet. But it was damn close. “Honestly? No fucking notes at all.” You snickered as you remembered last night. God. It was like he reached into your head and read every single filthy thought that flittered across your mind. 

When was the last time you felt like that with your partner? Probably never. You never felt comfortable handing your pleasure to a man. They never fucking listened. You could be moaning, “don’t stop”, over and over and they took that as a clue to stop what they were doing. Or they began fingering you and got mad when you coached them on what you liked. The bar was truly in hell. 

Kevin smiled. “I always want your honesty. Anything you wish I did different?” He asked. His fingers slowly stroked the back of your hand, playing with your fingers. How could he make something so mundane be the hottest thing ever? 

With each glide of his thumbs on your skin, your legs tingled and your belly flipped. That inner sex demon stretched like a lazy cat inside of you. One touch. One look. You were down bad for Kevin Atwater. If he’d let you, this sexy ass man wouldn’t be able to breathe without you. 

You shook your head. “Remember when I said it was bad out here?” You asked.

Kevin nodded his head. “That was putting it mildly. I have enough horror stories to fill a library with the fucking audacity of men these days. I’m not saying you’re perfect, because I don’t want you to get a big head. But it’s truly, truly mind-boggling how no one has trapped you in a marriage or a baby. ‘Cause?” You fanned yourself for extra dramatics. 

Kevin laughed, a full throaty laugh that came from deep in his soul. You could listen to him laugh for the rest of your life and never get sick. 

“Ain’t nobody trap me ‘cause momma ain’t raise no fool,” he said. “But okay. I want to let you know that you are perfect.”

You pushed at his solid chest, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious. You bring out something in me. Something I’d like to explore more.” He licked his lips and looked at you up and down. 

He had to be doing this on purpose. Turning up his charm to a thousand and ten. You couldn’t take it. He was too fine. Too hot. Quite literally chiseled by the gods. He couldn’t be real and yet he was standing right in front of you, telling you that you were perfect. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

You nodded. “I’d like to explore it too.”

“So no running?” He asked.

You grinned. “I was not running!” Liar, liar. Kevin tilted his head. You rolled your eyes and fought a grin, not successfully. “No running.”

Kevin nodded his head. He seemed to change right before your eyes. Turning from easy, sleepy, and relaxed right back to the man who was in charge last night. He stood up straighter. No longer leaning against the door frame, he reminded you with a simple action that he was tall. And big. A man. 

Your breathing caught in your throat as your heart began beating faster. Your fingers tingled. He inspected you from head to foot, took in your stance, took in your nakedness. You should be nervous about him seeing you, but you were being truthful earlier. You really did feel comfortable with him. Like you’d known him far longer than just one day. 

He clasped his hands behind his back and raised his chin, looking down at you. His eyes looked half closed from this position and you knew to interpret this as a warning. “I’m glad you said that. Because now, we have to talk about how you denied me the pleasure of waking you up with my tongue,” he said. 

You rubbed your thighs together and swallowed painfully. Your mouth dropped open in a surprised smirk, tongue rubbing against one of your teeth. Damn. What the hell did you say to something like that? 

You thought you had been playing in the big leagues with your level of nasty. Kevin showed you in so many subtle ways that you were playing with weak ass men before. Men who thought they owned something if money was involved. Whether it’s gifts, dinner, or quality time. Kevin just naturally oozed a lot of that masculinity that made you so attracted to men in the first place. 

“I went to bed dreaming about what you’d taste like fresh in the morning. Of how you’d look when you woke up to an orgasm. That little bit of surprise,” Kevin said. He closed his eyes briefly and bit his bottom lip as if he were recalling the dream at the moment.

He stalked closer to you. Instinctively, you began to back away. He looked like a man on a mission. A deviousness played in his warm brown eyes as he looked at your body like he wanted to gnaw on you like a dog with a bone. 

He took a deep, deep breath and let it go in one long sigh. “The things I was finna do to you in that bed.” He shook his head like he mourned the lost moment. 

“I’m sorry! We can go lay back down?” You asked. You continued to back away from his advancing form. Both scared and horny, you mentally kicked yourself. If you weren’t careful, you could get sucked into the vortex of Kevin Atwater. You weren’t entirely sure that was a bad thing. 

Kevin shook his head. “Naw, don’t work like that. Bad girls get punished,” he said. A downright wicked gleam entered his eyes with that comment. He reached out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you towards the couch. He sat down with you in front of him, in between his legs. 

Out of the protection of his body, the cold air hit you once more in full force. It battled with the natural heat of your body, leaving you in a push and pull of dueling temperatures. Your nipples beaded from desire and from the cold air, practically poking out in invitation. 

“I wasn’t bad,” you pouted. Sure punishment sounded fun, but you wanted what he promised last night. 

“I was gonna run you a bath, get you all nice and soapy and wet and…” He let the thought drift away as he tugged you to kneel before him. The soft rug by his couch was padded enough that you didn’t think you’d get rug burn, depending on what he had planned. 

“And what?” You asked. Your pussy clenched. Fuck, that sounded amazing. Getting all soaped up with Kevin, washing each other down, playing in the water. You got a full tour of his apartment and knew that his shower was big enough for his ass. It would fit the both of you comfortably. You needed it. 

Kevin smirked and grabbed his dick, stroking himself as he looked at you. You leaned forward, licking your lips. He was fully erect now. Thick and veiny, long. You licked your lips again, wondering what he tasted like.

“Hands behind your back,” he said. His voice grew rougher as he tugged on his meat and adjusting himself on the couch. 

You obeyed, putting your hands behind your back and grabbing your forearms. Your eyes never left his dick. His big hand gripped himself way harder than what you were ever comfortable with. Precum leaked from his tip. He gathered some of it on his thumb and swirled it around his tip. 

You moaned softly, watching him, mesmerized. Your grip on your forearms slackened as you leaned in a little more, scooting in between his legs. 

“Stay right there. I got a feeling that you’d like if I spanked you. And I’m not rewarding your rabbit ass with too many orgasms,” he groaned. He sank into his couch, groaning, as he pleasured himself. 

Your eyes followed the glide of his hand. He still wore the bracelets around his wrist. The strings moved with the force of his hand. It was a hell of a way to hypnotize you. He could ask for the Krabby Patty secret formula and you’d find a way to fess up to it. 

“I’ll be good,” you said, still staring at the way he stroked himself. You’d never been more jealous of a fucking hand. 

Your essence dripped out of you, slow like honey. You were unbearably wet. You moved your hand, more than capable of taking care of yourself. Kevin growled. “Don’t move.” 

You stopped and whined, adjusting your arms back behind you. Kevin groaned and leaned his head back against the couch cushion. After a moment or two, he collected himself and looked back at you. “If you be good and take this punishment, I’ll make it worth it,” he promised.

“I don’t even know what the punishment is,” you whined. Fuck being an adult. You wanted to take a ride on his dick and he was fucking playing games. 

“I’m gonna paint that gorgeous face of yours,” he said. “You don’t behave, you don’t get this dick. Fair?” He asked.

“No,” you pouted, poking your lips out and everything. Maybe if you were cute enough, he’d lose his composure and fuck you silly. 

Kevin only moaned, hand moving a little faster from all the precum leaking out of him. “Keep whining, it turns me on,” he said and winked. 

You fought the smile. This was not amusing. This was torture. This was cruel and unusual punishment. This had to be illegal. 

You were incredibly horny, sitting somewhere between too cold and too warm. Your body was confused. But your mind was far from it. You watched him like he was the single greatest porn scene you’d ever watched. 

Kevin groaned. “I love the way you lookin’ at me,” he said. His voice was rougher, like he’d been running for a long time. He was out of breath, stroking himself nice and smooth. He had a patch of dark hair at the base of his dick. His dick smooth like velvet, hard as a brick. 

“I could do a lot better than just look,” you said. You hadn’t had a chance to show off your own moves. Too busy with getting caught up in the way Kevin took care of business. You leaned up on your knees, getting excited at the prospect of giving him the gawk gawk 3000. That had him rolling his eyes and singing your praises. The kind of slobbering that had you caught up a few times, with men who swore they were in love with you. 

Kevin chuckled. “I bet you could. You look like you wanna eat me,” he said. His hips jerked as he said it, practically fucking his hand at this point. He let out a low string of curses as he closed his eyes briefly. 

“You have no idea how badly I want your dick in my mouth,” you said.

“Yeah? Tell me how badly,” he said. 

“I wanna taste you. I want to see how far back in my throat you can go,” you said, unashamed of your words. You were mad tripping earlier. That same connection you felt last night only seemed to strengthen in this moment. 

Kevin groaned, bucking his hips against his hand like he truly was fucking. You could picture bouncing on his dick in time with his hips moving. Was it possible to cum from no stimulation at all? You felt like you could cum at this very moment. This may be punishment, but fuck if it wasn’t beautiful to watch. 

Kevin’s jaw began to slacken, eyes tightly closed. He was close. He groaned, the sound slithering down your spine. Your pussy throbbed. Clit swollen and weeping, crying out to be played with. To be touched. To relieve this fucking tension in your bones. 

“Can’t wait to feel that mouth on this dick. Wanna see you struggle to take me. Looking up at me with those sexy eyes. Fuck. Would you cry?” He asked. He seemed more like he was talking to himself. He worked himself up with that particular fantasy. He scooted forward on the couch, stroking his dick once and then twice before moaning as he squirted his hot cum all over your face.

It landed more so on your nose and cheek, dribbling onto your lips. “Lick that shit up,” Kevin said, voice deep and raspy. Deep enough to make you whimper. You licked your lips, licking up his cum and swallowing him down.

You moaned, finally getting to taste him. “Oh, my, god,” Kevin said, panting from the force of his climax. He collapsed onto his couch, breathing heavily. A beat passed and then two, before he turned back to you with a wink. 

He leaned forward, tugging you closer so that he could kiss you. You melted against him. He leaned back. “You did so fucking well for me,” he said. 

You whimpered. He helped you rise to your feet. Then brought you to the bathroom, where he rinsed off a washcloth and gently cleaned your face. He was not making it easy on you. In a minute, you were going to drop to your knees and propose to the man. He took such gentle care with you, cleaning your face softly. You watched his face. The absolute concentration. The little bit of tongue poking out between his lips. 

Done, he tugged your arms behind his back and kissed the absolute daylights out of you. Scorching. Hot. Enough to completely daze you as he brought the kiss to an end, lips still pressed together. He slowly withdrew, opening his eyes and looking up at you even though he was taller. 

“How about you run a bath while I get some breakfast going for us? You good with an omelet?” 

You nodded. “That sounds delicious,” you said. Your stomach rumbled, loudly, in the quiet bathroom. It was tastefully decorated in steel blue with complimentary towels. The rug underneath your feet was shaggy and comfortable, toes sinking into the fabric. You swayed a bit, suddenly so damn hungry you couldn’t think straight. 

Kevin kissed your cheek. “Forgive me, I’ve been a bad host,” he said. 

You smiled lazily at him. “You’ve been so amazing, I’m starting to think I’m having a really good dream or I’m in a really bad coma,” you said. 

Kevin chuckled. “Naw, baby. I’m real,” he said. He grabbed your chin and brought you closer for a sweet kiss, a light smacking of your lips on his. “I’ll come get you when the food is ready. There’s no rush.” 

Kevin left you with one final kiss, like he couldn’t help himself. Then, he grabbed a towel, wash cloth, and hand towel from a cabinet in the wall. You asked about grabbing your panties first, but Kevin shook his head.

“No underwear policy in this space,” he said. 

“Now sir,” you said and giggled. 

“You see me wearing one?” He asked. 

You looked down at his dick and licked your lips. Kevin grunted. “Don’t get hurt now.”

You giggled and shook your head. “I can’t walk around the apartment naked as hell. What about your windows?” You asked. 

Kevin made a face but then sighed. “Fine.” He walked out of the room without another word. You watched him cross the hall to his bedroom, opening his drawer, and pulling out a dark gray T-shirt. He returned to the bathroom and handed it to you. “No panties.” 

You accepted the shirt and smiled. “Thank you,” you said. “I’ll behave. That punishment was bullshit,” you said. You turned towards his tub, reaching over to turn on the water and plug it up. Kevin smacked your ass, hard, the slap echoing off of the tile. 

“Worked, didn’t it?” He asked. He waggled his eyebrows and then left you alone in his bathroom. You pinched yourself. You quietly squealed, running in place. You had to get the jitters out of your skin. 

No amount of pinching or screaming would convince you that this was real. That you were in this space, surrounded by this man that was a book boyfriend come to life. He said all the right things and did all the right things. Even when he was mean, he was still sweet and sexy. This connection between you was insane. Indescribable. How the hell would you even begin to try?

His tub was easy enough to work, the warm water filling up quickly. You raided his soap, looking for the one he used most often. He had a teakwood body wash that was almost gone so you helped yourself to it, wanting to smell like him. If this were a dream, then oh thee fuck well. You were never going to wake up from this. Never. 

You washed yourself up, sinking into the warm water and living through flashbacks of last night and a few moments ago. The water felt so good on your skin, easing up any aches and pains accrued over the night and from kneeling for so long. You were good and pruney, practically falling asleep, by the time Kevin knocked on the door.

“Okay to come in?” He asked. 

You sat up in the tub. “Yep!” You called out.

Kevin entered and leaned on the doorknob. He hummed in appreciation. “Giving me all kinds of ideas about that tub,” he said. 

“I aim to please,” you said and giggled. 

“Later, beautiful. Food’s up. If you need help drying off, just let me know,” he said. 

You laughed. “If you help me dry off, that food will get cold,” you said.

Kevin sighed but nodded with a small smile. “You right. Come on, gorgeous,” he said. 

The casual way that he dropped all of these terms of endearment only further solidified that you’d never find someone like Kevin. Out of the billions of people on the planet, you couldn’t find someone like him. Even if you were to clone him, Kevin was unique. Different. The total and complete package.

You’d have to find a way to abscond with Claire and marry her. Give her your first born. Something. How the hell had she been hiding all of this?! 

Kevin knocked on the door and then partially closed it, giving you enough privacy to get out of the tub and drain it. You dried off, smelling his sweet scent all over your skin. You hummed as you pulled on his shirt, amazed that it fit over your curves and rolls. Huh. How about that.

You’d never been able to experience the small pleasure of putting on your boyfriend’s clothes. It was always a smidge too small. And whoever you were with tried to make you feel better. As if it were their fault that their clothes weren’t bigger for you. It didn’t crush you, not really, but secretly you always wanted to. You liked the inherent pleasure in it. Like you were staking your claim with one piece of clothing. 

Kevin was big enough that the arms of his shirt hung loose. The shirt came down to the middle of your thighs, looking like a dress that was almost too short. Too indecent if you were to wear something like this in public with no shorts or leggings underneath. If you bent over, he’d get a good view of your pussy. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the smirk that never left your lips. Your hair was a little wild, but that was okay. You smoothed it down. You looked like you’d been fucked. And fucked good. You grinned to yourself and finally left the bathroom.

The kitchen smelled amazing. It was still warm from what he cooked. He sat on the couch with a plate in his hand. He had an area to sit in the kitchen, but he patted the couch next to him. Your thighs tingled remembering what he did earlier. 

Your dress was draped across the accompanying recliner, laid out to smooth out the wrinkles that appeared because it had been bunched up all night. Your heels were on the floor and your purse was underneath the dress. 

Strangely, you felt no immediate need to grab your phone. Fuck the world. You were having fun in your little bubble. Kevin handed you a plate as you sat down. It looked good enough to be in a food magazine. Oh and the taste.

You moaned, fork scraping against the plate as you dug for another piece and another one. The egg was fluffy, flavorful, filled with little pieces of ham, cheese, and tomato. You looked at Kevin, licking your fork clean. When you released it, you smacked your lips. 

“Okay, this is really unfair. You look like that and cook like this? Fuck,” you said and shook your head.

Kevin laughed. “Couldn’t let my siblings grow up on mediocre ass food. I can throw down a little,” he said, being modest and ducking his head as he dug into a bigger version of your omelet. 

As you ate, you swapped family horror stories, both cracking up and nearly choking on food. Kevin ended up turning up the heater for your sake. You spent the late afternoon watching movies and pigging out on the couch. You found movies that you’d both seen so it wasn’t a big deal if you missed some of the movie by talking. 

And oh, did you talk about everything under the sun. Conversation flowed freely. The laughs were quick and loud. Sunlight filtered through his blinds, flecks of dust swirling in the beam. Your foot swung back and forth off of the couch before Kevin grabbed your foot and started to massage the heel. 

You moaned, resting your head against the back of the couch. You smiled at him, eyes drifting close as he found a particular ache in the arch. A soft sigh escaped you as you moaned with pleasure. His hands were perfect. Absolutely perfect. Immediately zeroing in on your most sensitive spots.

“Oh, that is so unfair,” you moaned. 

“What is?” Kevin looked from the TV to your face. You studied his half side profile. The line of his jaw. The peek of his lips surrounded by a neat, full beard. The way his hair twisted. The kind glow of his eyes. You were simply obsessed. 

“You’ve been doing nothing but making me feel good for the past day and some change,” you said. 

“I’d like to do it for longer than that,” he said. He gave you a rare, shy smile. “Too soon?” 

You shook your head. You moaned around him digging his thumb in. You brought your arm up to rest against your cheek. “It doesn’t scare me.”

“Good. I don’t ever want to scare you,” he said. 

You spent a few moments staring into each other’s eyes. His eyes reminded you of sitting outside a log cabin, crackling fire in front of you, bundled in sweaters and scarves. He was so warm. From the inside out. It made you feel lucky to be in his orbit. 

“You can’t ever scare me, I think. Is that weird?” You asked. 

“Naw, that’s not weird. But you can always tell me if I do,” he said. 

Kevin moved his hand, rubbing the top of your foot. His fingers brushed your toes and you yanked your foot back with a squeak. You could barely tolerate someone touching your feet. But touching your toes was out of the question.

Kevin gave you a funny look, reaching for your toes intentionally. You yanked your foot back, tucking it underneath you. You fought a laugh, fought the unbearable awkward sensation.

“You ticklish?” He asked. 

“No,” you said and shook your head.

Kevin’s face dropped in realization as he began to find other places you were ticklish. You squealed with laughter. There was something terrible and wonderful about being tickled. Your body didn’t like it but your brain recognized it as pleasurable. It was a weird headspace to be and you fought with all of your might against Kevin. 

He stopped once you were hysterically screaming for him to stop, laughing so hard that you were out of breath. Kevin held up his hands, laughing with you. “My bad, my bad. I ain’t know,” he said, still chuckling at your wheezing.

You eventually calmed down, sobering up while looking at him. “You are amazing,” you said. 

“And you are perfect,” he said. He leaned forward on the couch, covering your body with his. His powerful arms were on either side of you. He did one half push up and began kissing you. His lips smacked over yours, light little hums escaping him as if he were tasting something delicious. 

Your body lit up, warming from the inside out as you felt all of him imposing on top of you. He kept most of his weight off of you, but you wished he’d drop down so you could treat him like your personal weighted blanket. 

You ran your hands over his shoulders, feeling his smooth, wondrous skin beneath your fingers. He smelled heavenly. 

Kevin moaned. “You smell just like me,” he said. He moaned against your lips, kissing down your jaw and across your neck. Liquid heat followed where his tongue licked against your skin. “This was a turn on I didn’t know I had.”

Your giggles ended on a moan as he licked across your rapid thumping vein. The space between your thighs warmed up, turning into an inferno all its own. Kevin slid his knee between your legs, spreading you open for him. He hummed, staring at you all smug and shit. The light hairs on his thighs rubbed in the most delicious way. 

Your eyes fluttered, hands reaching out to push at his chest. Kevin used his imposing frame to lean down, putting pressure against your weak hand. Your hand dropped and Kevin smirked.

He knee was joined with one of his hands, gathering up your slick and juices, coating his fingers. He brought it to his lips, sucking on his fingers while he  stared into your eyes. You stared back, watching him gather up as much as he could. 

He moved down the length of your body, kissing in places and biting in others. Your sighs were choppy and quick, not allowing you to draw in a full breath. Kevin nosed through your wet folds, rubbing his nose in your pussy and humming to himself. His fingers dug into your thick, meaty thighs.

“Gahh damn, beautiful. You fuckin’ soaked,” he moaned. He lifted his head, dragging his tongue along the slit of your pussy. You whimpered, legs dropping open further so that he had enough room. Kevin adjusted himself on the couch and then used his tongue to push between, finding your clit with a precise lick.

“Oh, shit!” You cried out. Your nails raked across his back, digging in for purchase as he licked around your overly sensitive clit. His tongue flicked, dragging back and forth and made you speak in tongues. Your hands flew to his neck, pulling, pushing him down harder against your clit.

You gyrated your hips, fucking into his mouth. He moaned around you gushing around his mouth. The orgasm snuck up on you, too swift like a sniper. You moaned and cried against Kevin’s tongue, unrelenting, sucking harder.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you cried, panicked cries echoing in the room. The TV played in the background, some random ass movie or show. You weren’t sure which. The afternoon light was gone, replaced with the warming embrace of night. 

You felt this orgasm start in the base of your spine, shooting forward, racing towards the forefront as you came undone from Kevin’s tongue. “Oh, shit. Kevin, Kevin, I’m–” Words got caught in your throat as you came and came, a rolling sort of pleasure that was nearing painful. 

You coughed and then gasped, pulling in lungfuls of air. You felt like your heart restarted or you blacked out for a moment. 

Kevin moaned, looking up at you with your essence dripping from his beard. He kissed up your body, leaving sloppy wet kisses on your belly and chest. He moved himself forward, mouth latching onto your nipple. You cried, the nipple sensitive as hell. 

Each pull of his tongue made your pussy clench. You had no moans to give and yet your moans escaped nonetheless. Your hands roamed over Kevin’s body. He grabbed your wrists and pinned it to the bed beside you, fingers squeezing and making you feel bound. 

You moaned as Kevin released your nipple and then moved on to the next. He gave that one the same care and attention, pulling and tugging, and making you move your hips, feeling empty as hell. 

You couldn’t think straight. You were too blissed out on feeling good. All you knew was his hands on your skin, his lips around your nipples, his deep rumbling moans vibrating against you. All you knew was that there was no past, no future, no present that did not include Kevin Atwater. 

Kevin moved up your body again, kissing along your chest until he licked a trail up your neck. He moaned, moving into position between your legs. You grew a little nervous. Even with all this foreplay, you weren’t sure he would fit again. Last night had to be a fluke. 

“Eyes on me,” he commanded. 

You dragged your eyes up to meet his. He smirked, kissing you and driving random thoughts from your mind. He lined himself up, dragging your legs higher on his hips. He leisurely slid inside of you, like he had all the time in the world.

He paused every so often, letting you adjust to his size and length. He sank deeper and deeper, stretching you to your absolute fullest. 

“Oh fuck, Kev, you’re so big,” you groaned. 

“Made for me,” he said. He kissed your cheek as he began to pull out and then pull back in. 

You practically growled in his ear as his tip brushed up against your cervix. He was so deep, filling up an essential part of you. You no longer felt empty. You felt so completely full that tears sprang to your eyes.

Your pussy clenched around his dick. Your loud squelching sounded painful, even to you. He groaned as you squeezed his dick, sliding out so slowly it felt like torture, before pushing back in. 

Your orgasm was vicious, wild, and crazy. Burrowing through your veins and spreading throughout your entire system. Useless drabble fell from your lips. If you were trying to say something, then you had no clue what. You doubted he was any wiser. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Feel so fuckin’ good. You were made for this dick,” he moaned. 

“Fill me up, Kevin. Please fill me up,” you begged. 

Kevin’s strokes increased, pounding into you, ramming inside of you. Your ass slapped on his thighs. His balls slapped against your ass. Kevin gripped your ankles, pushing your legs against your chest and closer together.

He felt even bigger, sliding against your innermost walls and wrecking your shit. You pushed against his chest, tried to scratch at his hands around your ankles. “Please, baby, please, please,” you moaned. 

“Doing so good for me baby. Go ahead and let that shit go. I got you. I’m right here,” he said. He whispered against your skin, leaning against your legs that were leaning against your chest.

He made it slightly harder to breathe, fighting for every rasp and gasp. God, you were feeling incredible. Out of your skin. Like your consciousness mixed into the universe and poured into a galaxy. “I–” You couldn’t even get the sentence out before you were cumming once more, eyes rolling back into your head.

“There it is,” he moaned. “There it is. Don’t that feel better? Don’t I take care of you?” He asked.

He stroked once more before stilling, moaning, and spurting hot loads of cum inside of you. He bathed your insides, stuffing you completely with his seed. 

“Ohhhh, ohhh shit.

“Ohh shit. 

“Shit. 

“Shit,” Kevin groaned, eyes closed, jaw slackened. He pulled out, wet gurgling following behind, before he slammed in. He repeated the action a few times. You groaned.

God, no more. No more. You didn’t have another one in you. You simply didn’t. Kevin collapsed on top of you, taking deep breaths and pressing into your skin. He rolled off of you, sliding out. He looked between your legs, pulling your legs apart to watch himself leak out. He hummed in appreciation and then got to his feet and padded away to the bathroom.

He returned with a warm washcloth and gently wiped up between your legs. He closed the cloth and then used the clean side to clean up lingering sweat. Done, he got rid of the cloth and then helped you to your feet.

You were too weak, too fucked out to hold yourself up. Kevin chuckled and swooped you into his arms without a grunt. He deposited you in the bathroom so that you could clean yourself up further. Then, he picked you up and put you on his bed and tucked you under the covers.  

“Yo ass better be in this bed in the morning,” he said. He kissed you on the lips and then joined you in bed. Even though he turned up the heater, you didn’t know true warmth under his scorching chest met your frozen back. You moaned and snuggled further into his body.

“A nigga like to cuddle in the morning,” he said. He buried his face in your neck and kissed the back of your ear.

“Mhm, yes, sir,” you sleepily mumbled before passing off into dreamland.

There's more! The Secret Kevin Atwater Files | Part 1

[theodorecanaryhood]

Platonic

Jason Todd x Male reader

Family functions were the worst, you had no love for them at all. Your parents knew but still forced you to be there.

You were the youngest son, and your parents and older siblings always tormented you for the fact you hadn’t found anyone yet.

You stood in your bedroom staring in the mirror, holding up a red tie and a blue tie.

‘The red ones nice’ Jason said as he walked in the room.

His white shirt and black suit pants complemented his body, he’d agreed to go with you as your ‘boyfriend’ for the night.

You’d forewarned that the two of you would be sharing a room as it was overnight at your parents house.

‘Great, red it is’ you said, throwing it around your neck and tying it.

Jason smiled a little as he put on his black blazer, picking up his mustang keys.

‘It’s a long drive, you ready?’ Jason asked as you smiled.

‘Yeah’

The two of you drive to your family function, you dreading that you agreed to go. You didn’t like the fact you were flying to your family about having a boyfriend. But you also couldn’t bare the stress of having your singledom thrown in your face again.

‘Right, before we head inside. Is there anything we should do?’ Jason asked as he parked the car. You looked at him confused.

‘What you mean?’ You asked, Jason smiled.

‘We have to convince the family we’re a couple, also I have to convince them I’m gay’ Jason made his point.

‘Maybe just hold hands …. I guess I can hold onto your arm’ you suggested. Jason nodded.

‘What about kissing?’ Jason asked, you raised an eyebrow.

‘If you’re comfortable, but we don’t have to’ you said.

The two of you got out of the car, walking toward the venue. Jason smiled as he took your hand in his, preparing himself for the charade you two would put on.

You’d been friends with Jason a few years now, he had no issues at all with you being gay. But, he also didn’t like the idea of you being picked on by family for still being single.

He happily agreed to be your pretend boyfriend for a night or two.

The two of you stepped inside holding hands, both suited up as you walked towards your parents.

‘Mum, dad?’ You called out gently as they turned around and saw you, both smiling.

‘Y/n’ your mum cheered as she hugged you. Your dad doing the same.

‘And who’s this?’ Your father asked, looking Jason up and down.

‘This is Jason, my boyfriend’ you smiled as Jason introduced himself to the parents.

It was a busy event, and you gladly paraded your ‘boyfriend’ for the night. Your siblings meeting him too.

There was never an issue of running into the family while being out as you lived in Gotham City, they lived in Metropolis. It was a long way for them to travel to even see you.

Jason did a really good job at pretending he was with you, you didn’t think he’d be as into it as he seemed to be.

‘How am I doing?’ Jason asked you as the two of you stopped for a drink.

‘Great’ you smiled, your parents looking at the two of you from across the bar.

‘Your parents are looking’ Jason whispered, not wanting to make you anxious.

‘Do they seem suspicious?’ You asked curiously as Jason nodded a little.

‘Think so’

You thought maybe you’d been caught out and that was when Jason took a leap, holding onto your face and giving you a kiss. A few seconds, but it was deep.

‘Still looking?’ You asked as Jason peaked, he smiled a little as he nodded.

‘Yeah, not suspicious anymore it seems’ Jason said as he realised he was still holding onto your face.

The two of you had a drink together before you both got alerted it was coming to an end. Jason opted to drive the two of you to your parents house .

‘You ok about sharing a room?’ You asked him as he stopped outside your parents house.

He just nodded in response, opening the car door and the two of you heading into the house.

It was a nice house, too many bedrooms for a small amount of people. Much like Wayne manor. Jason was impressed by it, more so the artwork on the walls.

‘Y/n, why don’t you show Jason your room?’ Your mum said as you took Jason’s hand and lead him upstairs.

Giving Jason a tour of the house that was too big, too flashy and far too loud with artwork on the walls.

Jason sat with you drinking tea with your parents, him getting to know the family better. He found it quite funny how they were being so nice to you considering the stories he’s heard of what they’re really like.

It came to bedtime, Jason went to your room with you as you stood in the room.

‘Thank you again, for doing this for me. It’s a lot to ask I know’ you said as Jason shook his head a little.

‘Don’t sweat it, it’s great’ Jason smiled as he stripped his suit shirt and pants off. You doing the same.

‘You can have the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor’ you said as Jason took your arm.

‘No, please. You can sleep in the bed too’ Jason spoke quick as you looked into his eyes.

‘You sure?’ You asked as he nodded. You got into bed and lay next to him.

Jason fell asleep pretty quickly but you didn’t, your head raced. You kept thinking about the kiss you shared.

You know Jason is straight and has no interest beyond friendship with you, but you couldn’t help it. You’d never seen this side of him before.

Once you managed to fall asleep, it wasn’t long before the sun was up for its rounds. You groaned at the sight of the it as your bedroom door creaked open slowly.

‘Morning, you want coffee?’ Your mum smiled as you nodded.

Looking and seeing Jason still fast asleep next to you.

You couldn’t remember the last time your parents were this nice to you, you wondered if it was only because you’d brought a guy home.

It didn’t matter as it was time to head home after a couple of hours, Jason was smiling and holding your hand to the car.

Giving you a small kiss in the cheek as you got into the car. Once off your parents property and headed back to Gotham City, the charade would be over.

Jason hummed a little to the tune on the radio, eyes focused on the road. He suddenly turned to you.

‘If you need to do this again, let me know’ Jason suggested.

You smiled as you nodded, Jason went back to looking at the road. He was your saviour for the weekend. And you would never be able to thank him enough.

[profoundbondfanfic]

More holidays fics to keep you warm this winter!!

A Very Merry Christmas by orphan_account [General audiences, 3k words]

Dean is Christmas shopping when he meets the Omega of his dreams.

Holidate by Kitmistry [Teen and Up, 34k words]

Dean and Castiel hate the holidays! Their enduring singledom leaves them subject to the judgment of their meddling family members or stuck with clingy, awkward dates on each festive occasion. When these two meet, they pledge to be each other’s plus-ones for each holiday celebration over the course of the year.

I Won't Even Wish for Snow by Annie D (scaramouche) [Teen and Up, 6k words]

It’s the third year that Castiel’s spending Christmas with his best friend’s family, and he expects it to be much like the previous two. Then mistletoe happens.

Married Christmas by wigglebox [Teen and up, 13k words]

Time has passed since the dust settled and everything had been put "right". Things once seen as impossible in Dean's eyes is now tangible to him. All it needs is a wedding band and the promise of a future full of love and happiness.

Mistletoe Angel by PeachGO3 [Mature, 7k words]

In the last week before Christmas, countless mistletoes appear in the bunker. Dean jokes about it at first.

Nine Times We Met (And One Christmas We Parted) by almaasi [Explicit, 58k words]

On the last day of school before Christmas vacation, Mr. Castiel Quinn discovers that one of his young students has smuggled male pornography into the classroom. Upon being told that the photos belong to the boy's uncle, Castiel vows to himself that he will keep the other man's preferences a secret. It's 1947; a man experiencing attraction to another man or fantasising about his sexual touch are transgressive faults, which could potentially result in imprisonment - or worse. But then the uncle walks in. The photos are of him: Dean Winchester, a rogue with an empty pocket and a child to feed. Castiel doesn't know it yet, but his life is never going to be the same again. Years pass between chance meetings, but even though they live their lives apart, Dean and Castiel's story is proof that absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.

T'was the Night Before Christmas by Jacqueline Albright-Beckett (xaandria) [Teen and Up, 1k words]

Surgical tech Dean and vascular surgeon Cas share their first Christmas -- but they've only been together a handful of days.

The Secret Santa of Cubicle Land by followyourenergy [General audiences, 4k words]

Castiel Novak has never loved the workplace Secret Santa tradition, but he loves watching his coworker (and his very straight, secret crush) Dean Winchester’s enthusiastic responses to his daily gifts. Dean is so enthusiastic that he declares he’s going to ask his Secret Santa on a date. They’re both in for a surprise.

[yinyuedijun]

your recent kitsune suo post about the immortal/mortal pairing reminded me of this two(?) lines from journey to the west 2013 movie i watched back then in my mandarin class, i just remember the movie wasn’t really that good and i don’t like how there was a love interest to sanzang 😭, even though the story takes place before him decided to be a monk.

but basically,the context of the lines are when the love interest is dying, sanzang cried and said “i would love you forever, i love you for 10 million years, i love you for every lifetime” or something along those lines and the love interest (played by mother shu qi) replied, “that’s such a long time, just love me for now.”, i just remembered that in the chemistry between the characters was not there and the romance is too sudden but that line shook me to the core somehow, anyways great work as always‼️‼️

afldjwkdajsk I've never watched this movie but it is very funny that they gave tang sanzang a love interest. though to be fair to them, reading saiyuki as a kid made ME want to be tang sanzang's love interest, so... well-played...

I LOVE THAT DIALOGUE THOUGH... "love you for ten thousand years", "I'll love you in every lifetime" etc are such classic chinese romance lines but I love that follow-up reply. that's such a perfectly human answer and I do think it fits the vibe of this reader haha. I'm uncertain that suo would ever say those first lines... I feel like he just does it. sleeps routinely on your grave in his fox form and resigns himself to ten thousand years of singledom because you're his one and only wife. then he runs into your reincarnation like 500 years later and is like "well I can't not" and now bro is suddenly living that c-drama life 😔

also THANK U!!! I'm glad you're enjoying my shitposting 🫶

[bunnyreaper]

way back into love

pairing - gabriel reyes x f!reader wc - 1,860 warnings - weight/self-esteem issues, mild sexual content notes - chubby gabriel reyes? chubby gabriel reyes. i want soft gabe, i want him so bad - also on ao3!

Retirement was strange, and not something you thought either of you would get to experience, never mind get used to. 

When Overwatch was dismantled, Gabe undoubtedly struggled at first—more so than you did. 

Now, the two of you steal the moments you always wanted, in the form of a quiet domestic life on the outskirts of the city.

Gabe spends a third of his time in the kitchen, cooking you both exquisite home-cooked meals. Another third is spent catching up on a bunch of TV shows from the last several years, and a reluctant addiction to some trashy reality shows.

The final third is dedicated to the two of you enjoying each other's bodies fully. No time constraints or missions looming over you. No distractions. 

Yet as of late, your alone time has been happening less and less. While a natural part of a long-term relationship in some respects, the shift had you feeling lonely, and most importantly, concerned.

The behavior seemed out of character for Gabriel—a man with so much passion.

You try to push the thoughts out of your mind as you unlock the front door to your home.

After discarding your jacket on the coat hooks, your shoes on the rack, and your purse on the side table—you make your way into the living room.

Gabriel is lounging on the couch, eyes fixed upon the TV, with a bag of chips by his side and a beer on the table.

Tiptoeing up behind him, you press a sweet kiss to the top of his head as you hang off of him, trailing your hands down his chest and caressing him. 

"Hey papi." You mumble into his hair, your voice rising flirtatiously. 

Your new friends had spent most of the time at your drinks talking about their escapades in singledom—and it really made you miss when you and Gabriel first started fooling around. 

"Cariño." He greets, as his hands slip up to hold your wrists, stopping your groping in its tracks. "Somebody's eager." He chuckles. 

"I missed my hunk. What can I say?" 

"Pshh." He shrugs away from your touch somewhat, so you pull back your hands to rest between your chin and his head.

Your eyes flicker up to the screen, catching a shot of some scantily clad model types dancing around the pool. "What are you watching?" 

He hesitates for a moment before offering up a quiet response. "...Love Island." 

You don't need to press further to know he's embarrassed. 

"Ugh." You grunt, expressing your disdain. Gabriel's new reality TV fascination was something you were on board with, but Love Island wasn't about surviving on an Island or making it to New York Fashion Week. 

"I know, I hate it." He laughs, yet his gaze hasn't left the screen. 

"Sure you do." You laugh, then pull away and head back over to your purse, grabbing your phone to check the time. "Want me to handle dinner, or should we just order take out?" 

"No, I've got it." He calls out, finally turning around and offering you a smile. 

"Can we get started soon? I'm so hungry." You ask. 

"Sure." 

You return his smile before heading toward the stairs. "I'm gonna go put some sweats on." You call out as you leave. 

Making it to your bedroom, you pull off your sundress and the bra underneath as a matter of urgency. You're so desperate to be comfortable, and you head over to the dresser, pulling out a lace bralette and your softest sweats. 

As you pull on the bralette, the bedroom door opens behind you, and Gabriel walks in with a pile of freshly washed, perfectly folded laundry.

"I meant to bring these up earlier. Do you need anything from the pile?" He sets the clothes down on the bed, and your eyes instantly land on a specific shirt of Gabriel's you love to wear—and one that drives him crazy, too. 

"You've had a productive day, I see." You throw the shirt on and smile as you smooth the fabric over your thighs. "Thank you, though. I was going to do the laundry when I got back, but seems you beat me to it." 

"How was your time with the ladies?" He asks, as he begins to put some of the folded pieces away in the appropriate drawers.

You decide to forego the sweats for the moment, in the hopes you won't end up needing them right now, anyway. "Good! Though they're trying to sign me up to their spin class." 

"Not that you need it." Gabriel offers, as he stands before the wardrobe he's just hung some clothes in. 

Unbeknownst to you, who can't see his facial expression, he appraises his reflection and begins to pick apart everything he sees.

"I can think of some other exercise I'd rather do." You turn your tone sultry, as you step behind your boyfriend and slip your arms around him once more, running your fingers across his stomach before you dip lower. "Who needs to ride a bike when I can ride you?" 

Once more, his hands still yours, his fingers slipping in between your own as he pries your hands away. 

"Not now, cariño." His smile is forced, his voice strained. 

"Okay... sorry." You whisper, pulling away out of respect. 

A heavy silence settles on the room as rejection stings you. While you respect your boyfriend's autonomy, now you're really starting to wonder if there isn't something truly amiss. 

You turn away to pull on the sweats you intended to wear earlier, as just outside of your gaze, Gabriel pinches at his stomach.

"Gabe?" You ask, not turning to face him, as you worry you'll lose your nerve right now if you do.

"Hmm?" He responds absentmindedly, lost in his head and the swirl of negative thoughts. 

"Is something bothering you?" 

"No." He answers too quickly, and your gaze now snaps to him in suspicion. "Why?" His brows are furrowed, almost like he's frustrated with you for even asking the question. 

That only makes you want to press further. 

"Well, when we first got together, you couldn't keep your hands off me for a minute. And I know, it wears off with time but, you've been brushing me off more and more lately." Your throat tightens as you talk, and you try to hold back from releasing any indication of the feelings that have been building up. 

You don't wish to pressure him, but you need to at least talk to him. 

"Yeah, that's what it probably is, just the end of the honeymoon phase." He mutters forlornly, still not meeting your eyes. 

You've known him long enough to know that at this moment, he's completely full of shit. 

He meets your eye, his jaw tightened as he tries to remain resolute, yet you fix him with a look. 

Moments pass where neither of you look away—him determined to remain silent, you determined to crack him. 

He finally turns his head away again, facing the mirror once more with a sigh. He knows you know something is up, but that doesn't mean he intends on being entirely forthcoming. "I don't wanna talk about it." 

"Gabriel." You whisper, joining him at the mirror and taking one of his hands in yours. You watch his expression in the reflection, as he fights to keep his feelings from showing. 

Yet the longer you stand there, holding his hand and simply being there, the more his walls start to crumble. 

Without looking up, he begins to mumble. "... I've let myself go, and I don't feel worthy of you anymore."

The words completely stun you.

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but this wasn't it. At least it wasn't the thing you had feared. 

"Oh papi." Your voice takes on a tone of sorrow as you step between him and the mirror, taking his other hand too. "Look at you, if this is letting yourself go, god help all the other men on this planet." 

He lets out a small, sad laugh at that—a lopsided smile coming to his face, one that doesn't quite reach the eyes.

The changes in his physique haven't gone unnoticed by you, but they also haven't changed a damn thing about the way you feel for your lover, either. 

"You're incredible, even if you have a little extra weight." You resist the urge to lean up and kiss him, and run your hands all over every part of him you can touch.

"But I don't look like I did when I was Commander, when I was the man you fell in love with." He admits quietly, a somewhat bitter tone to his voice. 

"Yet you're just as handsome." 

His hands slip out of yours, and you expect him to pull away once more, yet his arms encircle your waist as he pulls you close and presses a deep, needy kiss to your lips. 

Your eyes fall shut as you feel the shivers down to your toes, before he pulls away, and you're left with a bright smile. 

That kiss did nothing to quell your need for Gabriel, yet judging by the way he's stiffening against you, it seems he wouldn't mind so much the way you feel.

"And..." You walk your fingers up his chest teasingly until you reach his neck, as you pull him down, so you can whisper in his ear. "You still get me worked up like no one ever has."

"Really?" He sounds equal parts taken aback and aroused—the doubt being something you're not used to hearing from him. 

You pull back, and he finally meets your eyes. There's less sadness in them than before, but you still have a little more to say. 

"I love you exactly as you are, Gabriel, and I always will. Lucky for you, your abs weren't nearly the most interesting thing about you." 

If only he could see how much you still wanted to climb him like a tree, or have him pin you down underneath him as he fucks your brains out—weight or no weight. 

He finally smiles wide, and your heart soars. 

"What really doesn't suit you isn't the extra weight, it's this uncertainty you have." You comment. "You're usually so annoyingly self-assured." You laugh to let him know you're trying to be lighthearted. 

Humming in thought for a moment, he pulls you even closer to his body, his fingers gripping into the shirt of his you're wearing as his attitude seems to shift. 

"I recall you liking me knowing what I do to you." His voice drops deeper, becoming even more alluring as he regains a sense of his usual suave confidence. 

"I do." You smile, pushing yourself up on your tiptoes and rubbing your body against him in a way intended to tease. You have every intention of taking him to bed and worshiping his body. 

You can't help the oozing sex in your voice as you speak, offering him more temptation as naughty plans form in your mind. "How about I remind us both exactly what you do to me?"

[artemisia-black]

In a really odd point of life.

My work contract is ending and I signed a new one which happens to be a promotion. But I feel really sad, I was content (other than occasional stress) in my current role and I actually have the best manager I’ve ever had.

Also all my closet friends are married and having children and while I’m so happy to be an aunt and I love seeing them happy. I feel a very particular sense of loneliness now.

Looking at my hinge data 12 redownloads and 1.5k matches that I barely responded too,(not a humble brag those are proportional to London’s population) I wonder what it is that I really want. Because surely I could find 1-2 people I could stand in that number

I want a partner but have no motivation to find one. I enjoy being single (I’ve been in a bad relationship and there’s nothing worse) but I’m also increasingly isolated in my singledom.

Life feels disjointed. And after several deaths this year, I want to live as full of a life as possible. But whenever I think I know what I want, it slips away.

[odessa-2]

Just realized Ms Balfe and appendage haven’t shown up at Wimbledon this year, in a year that’s packed with celebs. For years shippers have thought the tides were turning only to be slapped. I can’t help wonder if this time is different. Brace for fuckery but hope for a different playbook?

The working Mother of one might be too busy to balance work and a nanny and a gay assistant come husband to attend a tennis match. I wouldn't hold by breath Anon that any sort of positive change is afoot. Sam is still selling his Whisky and promoting Waypoints which hinges on his singledom. Season 8 seems like millennia away so I can't see the narrative drastically morphing. Maybe some small changes here and there. Maybe a few less vampire sightings which I've actually quite grown to like. At least the vamp sightings provide us with some light entertainment in an otherwise very tedious saga.

[my-shields-are-down]

Chenford + Chris Returns..

Please note - this is not part of the one word prompt series. I'll be posting more of those tomorrow.

===================

"Well Chris is back from visiting his family in Chicago. I saw him outside the station as we came back after that op. He looks tan and relaxed. We nodded at each other."

Lucy looked up from the carton of noodles she was currently stuffing in her mouth and tried to speak but ended up sounding like a parent from a Charlie Brown special.

Tim chuckled and said, "Babe, please finish chewing and drink some water before you try to speak. We don't need me to do the Heimlich again , do we?" He was gleefully referring to the lunch services the other day when he performed the life-saving procedure at their favorite noodle place. The restaurant patrons gave him a round of applause (freaking applause!) after a chunk of shrimp shot out of the woman's esophagus. Lucy shook her head at the memory. She would have given him more grief about it, but the restaurant took his picture and put it on the wall and gave him a GOLD card which meant free noodles for life. She wasn't about to complain about that perk.

They still paid for their noodles (cops don't get freebies!) like the spicy kung pow ones was shoveling into her mouth now.

With her mouth finally clear, she asked, "Do we want me to tell him about "us,” you know be up front about it like grown ups? So he doesn't hear it from the grapevine? Better to control the narrative?"

Tim sighs. While he loves Lucy's perpetual optimism, he doesn’t see her more recent ex responding well to her moving on within an hour after breaking up with him. Tim is not sure anyone could spin that narrative in a positive way.

Instead he simply says, "it's your call. But i would expect everyone to know after he finds out. Our sneaking around bubble will have burst. Are you ok with that?". I will have a back up plan in place if anything goes wrong, ok?

Lucy grabbed his hand and said, "I'm not going anywhere and honestly, I don't care who knows that."

====

Lucy doesn't actively seek Chris out, so it's a few days later that she sees him come out of an interrogation room with Wesley. Wesley, who along with Angela were two people in the "need to know" circle she was about to blow apart.

Chris looked over at Wesley to figure out why he stopped walking and saw Lucy. Their eyes met and while Lucy started to smile and move forward to say hello, Chris takes a step backwards and puts up his hands to stop her, saying "Lucy- please don't make this any more awkward than it already is. You broke up with me remember and no, I don't want to get back together."

Lucy stares at Chris. Her mouth opens and closes a few times but no sound comes out. So she squeaks out, "Oh?"

Chris turns to face her fully and said, "I saw Gloria - my college sweetheart - when I was back home and we decided to give it another go. Our parents are great friends and we fell back into one another easily. She's moving out here later this month."

Lucy's smile grows and she steps forward again to say, "Oh Chris, I'm so excited for you. I remember meeting her when she came to visit last year and I really liked her. Congratulations."

Chris could tell Lucy was genuine and not pretending when she told him congratulations. He wonders at that. "How are you doing?" he politely asks. Hoping she'll say she is missing him and wants another chance, that she wants him to toss Gloria aside and be with him like he really wants.

Lucy blushes and says, "Well, actually, I'm dating a great guy. We got together shortly after you and I broke up and I've never been happier. Which is why I'm so glad you are happy in your new relationship too."

Chris is stunned but not surprised that Lucy is dating someone; she hasn’t really understood how much of a catch she is and it sounds like someone took advantage of her newly singledom to make her theirs. "Anyone I know?" he asks cheekily, running through a list of possible suitors in his head.

Lucy looks at Wesley and takes a deep breath, "Yes, actually. The new Metro Liaison Sergeant and I are dating. I've known him for several years and he asked me out as soon as he knew I was single."

"Yes, I heard there was a multi-departmental promotion-shift resulting in a new serg - wait.... isn't Tim the new Sergeant for Metro? Are you dating Tim? (Lucy's smile broadens and Wesley takes a step back). "WHAT THE FUCK LUCY?! WHAT. THE . ACTUAL. FUCK?" Chris is shouting at Lucy and Wesley steps in between as Chris starts to charge at her, red-faced and menacing.

At that moment, Wade Grey steps forward and sees the shock on Lucy's face along with hearing Chris's expletive filled yell, grabs each by an arm and forcefully leads them into his office - where Percy West - the head of Internal Affairs - and Tim Bradford, Lucy's boyfriend and Senior Metro Liaison Sergeant are standing. Percy and Lucy smiled at each other quickly, and then Commander West uses his Church Deacon voice to speak to Chris with authority.

"ADA Sanford - you will no longer address Officer Chen. You will address me - Commander West. Are you paying attention?" Not waiting for Chris to respond, Percy says, " For the record, please state your issues with Officer Chen. I'd love to hear them."

Chris, seething with resentment and hurt, glances around the room to find four people staring at him. Waiting for an explanation.

Lucy had moved to stand next to Tim and was holding his hand. Chris lashes out again towards Lucy, 'YOU CANNOT BE FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW - HE IS YOUR BOSS. YOU CANNOT BE HOLDING HIS HAND." Tim makes a movement forward to address Chris directly, until Commander West holds up his hand and stops him.

Percy again says, "ADA Sanford - I repeat - you will address me and not Officer Chen. I will not give you another warning. What are your specific accusations towards Officer Chen?

Chris turns to face Commander West and sneers at Lucy, saying “Officer Chen is a disgrace to the uniform. She fucked her boss and had a secret affair with him while she and I were dating. She withheld affection, and love from me, knowing I was in love with her. Everyone sees the way they look at each other. How she pants after him and he pines for her. Both of them are disgusting and should be punished.”

Commander West says “Is that it?”

Chris replies, “isn’t that enough?”

Percy walks to Sergeant Grey’s desk and says, Mr. Del Monte? Did you get all that? I wanted to reiterate to you that Officers Bradford and Chen’s relationship was investigated more thoroughly than normal because Bradford was her training officer. As I mentioned to you earlier this week, we found no evidence of any wrong doing by either of them. Unsurprisingly, they maintained a professional relationship while in the office and have noted their change in relationship status. Additionally, Officer Bradford moved out of Officer Chen’s chain of command as soon as he was able to do so. IA and HR are fine with their relationship status change.”

DA Delmonte from his office across town, speaks up and addresses Chris directly, “thank you Percy. That matches our findings as well.

ADA Sanford, effective immediately, you will no longer be managing cases based out of mid-Wilshire and are being transferred to downtown Ventura traffic court. Your recent promotion has been revoked and you only still have a job because both Officer Chen and Officer Bradford spoke so highly of you. Please take the remainder of the day to clean out your office here and report tomorrow to DA Simpson at the Ventura courthouse at 8 am.”

The call was disconnected. Percy walked over to Lucy and gave her a hug before leaving. Tim leans down and kisses Lucy as if his life depends on it. He then shook Wade’s hand and left. A blushing Lucy smiled at Grey and said, “thank you” before turning to Chris a final time. “Good luck with Gloria. I hope everything works out for you both.” She nodded at him and headed out as well.

Chris stood there shocked. He turned around and saw Sgt. Grey glaring at him.

“Son, get the fuck out of my office before I throw you out.”

———

[elizabeth-karenina]

AYO I got tagged my dudes!

By one of my favorite mutuals, @perpulchra! Thank you so much for thinking of me, my dear!

Last song: Help Me Make It Through the Night - Sammi Smith

Favourite colour(s): royal blue, violet purple, emerald green, and burgundy red.

Last book: Right now, I'm re-reading one of my favorite history books called White Mughals by William Dalrymple. If you haven't read it, I would recommend it. It's about the cross-cultural exchange that happened when Europeans tried to initially colonize India, and how the cultural exchange wasn't as one-sided as we were led to believe. It would make an incredible miniseries tbh.

Last movie: My parents and I watched The Thin Man together last weekend, because it's one of our favorite black-and-white classics.

Last TV show: Last night I watched four or five episodes of Bob's Burgers, because that's my comfort show and it never fails to make me cackle.

Sweet/spicy/savoury: Outing myself as the gluttonous person that I am to say that spicy and savory comes first, with something sweet to follow. It's the only way to eat a meal if you ask me.

Relationship status: Empress Elizabeth of Singledom, if you please. *extends hand for you to kiss my ring*

Last thing I googled: ....the Disney classic masterpiece that is The Aristocats (1970). Why? Idk. But like I said, do I even need to expound on such greatness?

Current obsession: The TV show Interview With the Vampire; reading about history, particularly about 18th century and 19th century history (but that's always a given with me); re-watching a lot of the older Disney animated movies; re-reading the Madeline book series; as well as perfume. I've always been into perfume, but lately I've really gotten into it. I've literally spent hundreds on it for my birthday!

Looking forward to: The Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays that are fast approaching. I'm excited for it this year; there's so much awful crap going on in the world right now. And while celebrating something won't make it go away, I'm just in the mood to spread some love and take comfort in my community.

Tagging: @cromwelll, @honeyxwildfire, @lucienne-thee-librarian, @royalsampaguita, @oxfordsonnets,

[its-moopoint]

Imagine being thrilled that a couple hasn't been seen in public together and hoping divorce is coming. Or, calling the husband gay because he married the woman they wanted with the man who may very well be, but nobody should question. The double standard . . .

Anonymous asked:

Just realized Ms Balfe and appendage haven’t shown up at Wimbledon this year, in a year that’s packed with celebs. For years shippers have thought the tides were turning only to be slapped. I can’t help wonder if this time is different. Brace for fuckery but hope for a different playbook?

odessa-2

The working Mother of one might be too busy to balance work and a nanny and a gay assistant come husband to attend a tennis match. I wouldn't hold by breath Anon that any sort of positive change is afoot. Sam is still selling his Whisky and promoting Waypoints which hinges on his singledom. Season 8 seems like millennia away so I can't see the narrative drastically morphing. Maybe some small changes here and there. Maybe a few less vampire sightings which I've actually quite grown to like.

rosegoldcameo

After all the vitriol and all the denials I hardly think that they will ever come out as long as she is "married" to McGill

And yet, the slap keeps coming. You know it, I know it, they know it. I don't know why they get mad every. single. time.

[alarrytale]

Hi Marte,

I don’t see what’s the point for Louis to have the beard? Only because he always had one and thinks it’s normal? In his case I don’t see how it will benefit his career or improve the mood of the tired fandom.

Why do you think since pl*asing H almost stopped wearing nail polish?

Hi, anon!

I don't think L needs a beard relationship to hide his relationship with H and his sexuality. But the issue here is that he's been publically single for over a year now. He hasn't been linked to anyone or had rumours about him and women for a long time. Zero, zip, zilch, nada. I discussed this with someone a couple of months ago, about how long L can go without being connected to a female before people get suspicious and the larry rumours start to make sense for some people.

An article about him still being hung up on his ex-gf could explain the year long singledom. He's a millionaire pop/rock star who's target audience is both men and women. The men would question his rizz and why he's not pulling women left and right when he's rich, good looking and single. After all he did get a one night stand pregnant. So why no rumours of women? Why hasn't he got one in every port? Females who thinks he's straight and projecting onto him may also question his lack of relationships and female connections. They won't have a shot with him if he isn't giving anyone a shot at all. They also don't have a gf to project upon, and his lack of romantic life is probably starting to bore them.

I don't think L needs a beard, but i do think they need, at some point, to start connecting him to females either by planted rumours or made up tabloid articles; "L spotted talking to X", "Friends says L has a crush on X" and so forth. His seemingly non interest in women may have people start questioning if it goes on for too long.