#please don’t read this if you don’t want to see negative I’m sorry
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not-another-walnut · 2 years ago
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what podcasts have you dnf’d? or wish you dnf’d by the time you finished!!
(trying to figure out which shows are actually going to be worth my time)
ohh okay!!! obviously this is all a matter of my personal opinion, and if you love these shows I’m so happy they found their people!!!!
-Where the Stars Fell: I found both the main characters extremely annoying and dreadfully unlikable !! the worst part was the Trauma Competition scene of “my life was hard, no MY life was harder, well I’m disabled, oh yeah i’m disabled in this WORSE way, okay but my childhood was hard, no MY childhood was hard” it was just too much, i wish we learned these things more naturally and less transactionally (also that end of season one ‘twist’ was tough 😔…..)
-Weeping Cedars: This one was one of those spooky docu-dramas, that ended up going way too ‘documentary’ and not enough ‘drama’ (or spooks!! which is why I’m here!!)
-The Storage Papers: so I listened up to I think half way through season 3? my main issue was that the story seemed really confused, and I found the main VA’s voice annoying (not his fault! it’s just a little distracting) (also there was an episode where he basically said hitler & the nazis were all possessed by demons which was, yucky)
Ghosts in the Burbs: this is mainly because I do not like the anthology format, I typically binge my shows and and anthologies get really boring and exhausting for me! I especially didn’t care for the theme, which was 200 episodes of Rich, White, Suburban Moms in boston see ghosts (I am not very sympathetic to rich, white, suburban moms) (it was also basically the same five ghost stories over and over again)
The Penumbra Podcast: okay NO hate to penumbra, my main issue with it was that the main character makes out with like, everyone they meet, and the sound of kissing makes me want to literally peel my skin off! I also thought it was a little cheesy?? HOWEVER, I know that it’s cheesy, campy notes are very much beloved by its fandom!!
Ostium: this one hurt, because the first season was SO interesting and mysterious, and then the story just slowly drifted off into nonsense! I also really disliked the main female character (monica?) because it’s like they tried to write this STRONG and SENSUAL and POWERFUL and INDEPENDENT woman, and then produced an awful character who repeatedly sexually manipulates the main character (it’s okay though, they fall in love eventually so she didn’t do anything wrong! /s)
Archive 81: this one is widely beloved, but the first season was goddamn unbearable!! the voice acting was rough, the story is the SINGLE most confusing and lost thing i’ve ever heard, the main character wasn’t likable, and the ending was so predictable and boring!!!! (I legitimately had no idea it what was happening for the entire show and I still knew how it was going to end) (however!! the community says the second and third seasons are good and interesting, but I never had any desires to keep listening)
Honorable Mentions:
-Literally any PNW/PRA show (tanis, the black tapes, rabbits) somehow they will always end up being recommended but they are truly all an exhausting waste of time with poorly thought out twists and endings (if they even end at all 😔)
-Station 151: this is the only podcast i’ve given a one star review, it was so abysmal it made me physically and genuinely angry and had to stop working to rant about it to my beloved 😮‍💨
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aliteralsemicolon · 4 months ago
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Wait until you like me again - 18+
See part 1 | Part 2 of We can't be friends (wait for your love) | See part 3
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The decision to resign puts a lot of weight on your shoulders. A takedown gone wrong makes it the least of anyone's concerns, especially Spencer’s. You’re not willing to let him back in; it feels too little, too late.
Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader
DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. Part 2 was highly requested and I’m sorry it’s taken so long to finish.
WARNING Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, drugs (GHB), Case details (very poorly thought out). Violence: canon typical - strangulation, drugging, guns/gunshots. Proceed at your own risk.
Word count: 10.3K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.
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The most annoying part about making a decision in haste is the clarity of the situation when the dust settles. It’d taken Hotch just over two minutes to message you after you’d sent your email. 
From: Boss Man 🕶 👔 My office, first thing tomorrow. 
You didn’t take into account that you’d have to explain your sudden resignation to your unit chief, or that you’d need to think of a good enough goodbye to lessen the hurt of abandoning your friends. These are people you consider your found family; you’re leaving behind years worth of bonds with no proper warning or closure, in a measly few weeks. Your reasoning had to be good enough to convince them that this was for the best. 
To convince you that this was for the best. 
You’d spent the whole night in tears, racking your brain for an excuse, because ‘the person you care most about in this world and unrequited love of your life telling you that he didn’t want to see your face was a pathetic reason for discarding your life’s work. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t think of adequate justification. Even as the sun rose and you made your way through your pre-work routine, nothing came to mind. 
“You can’t love me.”
Any time you tried to conjure up a defence your thoughts would wander back to Spencer. Too many words had been exchanged between you and your former best friend in the span of four months and not a single one of them properly explained why he was so butt-hurt. He loves you too much, but doesn’t want you to love him? That’s your understanding, at least. 
“Please don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.” 
Since you’d left his apartment the previous night, you’d been cycling through all the stages of grief in record time. Spencer once told you that people tend to remember more negative memories than positive. He was right. You couldn’t recall a lot of your happier memories with him. All you could think about was the two conversations where he’d hurt you in ways you never imagined he would. 
You’re not sure exactly what part of you snapped at that moment, all you knew was that you were done making him the centre of your universe. Spencer Reid played no part in your decisions moving forward. He was not the reason for your departure with the BAU, a lie you made sure to relay to Hotch during your meeting with him.
“I’m just surprised, that’s all. Where is this even coming from?” He inquired from across you, hands folded neatly against his desk.
“I just think it’s time for me to try new things, you know?” It was a pathetic excuse, but less pathetic than the actual reasoning. 
“I try not to interfere with the personal lives of the team, but this is just so…sudden. I have to wonder if this has to do with Spencer?”
“This has nothing to do with him.” You go out of your way to avoid saying his name, suspecting you might taste poison. 
Hotch’s brow raises, as if his brain has been alerted to key information, head marginally tilting to the side like it does when he catches a lie. He doesn’t say anything, eyes narrowing in on you in stoic fashion. You feel like a petulant child that’s about to receive a scolding from their father. 
“Hon–Honestly…Hotch, I just–”
Three rapid knocks cut you off, the door to the office swinging open without waiting for a reply. 
“Sir, Hello, I’m sorry to interrupt but it’s an emergency. That case we were consulting on for Anchorage PD?” Garcia bursts into the room, slightly discoloured and more panicked than normal. “Well, five more bodies were discovered. Two of them pre-date who we initially thought was the first victim.”
“Garcia, tell everybody to meet on the jet ASAP. We’ll debrief on the flight.” Hotch orders abruptly standing from his seat. “You and I can finish this meeting later. This case is now our top priority, wheels up.” 
Emily, Rossi and Derek were already in their seats when you boarded. You secured your go bag in one of the overhead compartments and temporarily took a seat next to Derek. 
“How bad do you think this one is gonna be?” Derek sighs, dreading the horrors that await your arrival. 
“We’re up to thirty six bodies and counting. Whoever this unsub is, they’ve been at it a while. So, bad.” You answer honestly. 
“Speaking of bad, is everything okay?”
“That was not even remotely smooth.” You scoff. 
“I’m just asking as a concerned friend.” He shoots his hands up in defence.
“What happened to the days where we at least tried to mind our business. You know, at least asked each other about our weekend plans before jumping into interrogation mode.” You roll your eyes and smirk. 
“Heyyy, woah– no one’s interrogating anyone.” Derek chuckles. “What are your plans for the weekend?”
It wasn’t long before everybody had made their way on the jet, Spencer being the last one. You didn’t notice his arrival, too engulfed in your conversation. He definitely noticed you though. The sound of your giggles caught his attention the second he was in ear shot. He didn’t like how warm he felt at the sight of your smiling face. What he disliked more was that he could instantly tell that it wasn’t a genuine smile. 
He quietly made his way to his self assigned seat on the couch, trying his hardest to focus on anything but you. Every laugh that Morgan coaxed out of you bothered him. Spencer’s agony only ended once the jet had successfully taken off. 
“Alright let’s get started.” Hotch declared and everybody moved to gather around. 
With all the details laid out by Garcia through the monitor, everybody began stating facts and suggestions. You wrapped up soon enough and retreated to an isolated seat in the back of the jet. It was an almost eight hour flight, seven of which you were planning to use to come up with a solid plan to announce your departure. Life always has to throw a wrench in your plans though, because the lack of sleep from the night before caught up to you and you dozed off almost immediately. Had you any energy left in your body, you might have been privy to the eyes that were on you. 
“She didn’t say anything as to what the meeting was about?” JJ hushedly pries from her raven haired co worker in the cramped kitchenette.  
“No, but Garcia said that ‘the air in his office was really tense’.” Emily relays, her fingers mimicking quotation marks. “Did Hotch say anything?”
“No. He just gave me his usual dry look and told me to focus on the case.” JJ rolls her eyes at the thought and leans back against the counter. 
Despite being the FBI’s most decorated task force, the agents of the BAU weren’t strangers to workplace gossip. You’d just entered the bullpen this morning when Hotch frantically summoned you to his office, not even giving you time to set your things down at your desk. Witnessing the events sparked a guessing game sparked amongst the team. 
“Is it something we should know about?” Sitting across from Hotch, even Rossi succumbed to his curiosity. 
“Dave you’re not normally one to pry.” Hotch smirks, keeping his eyes on the case-file laid out in front of him. 
“No I’m not. But with the events of the past few months...” Rossi sips his coffee, staring at his younger superior expectantly. “...there’s been some talk Aaron.”
“Talk?” Hotch meets Rossi’s eyes.
“Mhm.” Rossi nods. “Apparently you’re transferring one of our two youngest members because they haven’t been able to put their differences aside.”
“I’m not transferring anyone. Where did this come from?” The alarm in his tone makes Rossi snicker.
“Office drama. You know how it is. And while you may not be transferring anybody,” he sets his mug down and looks towards where you’re sound asleep. “I’m guessing somebody is leaving. Hence this morning's meeting.”
“We’re not supposed to profile each other, you know.” Hotch sighs. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep this contained. I haven’t had a chance to properly discuss this with her yet and I think she’d prefer to break the news herself.” 
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As you had predicted the case was by no means an easy one. On the first day everybody was split into groups to follow up with the M.E, victims’ families and examine the crime scenes. All the evidence and information gathered wasn’t enough to narrow the profile any more than the generic: male, mid thirties to early forties, hates women. You were now three days in with no viable leads. 
You were especially frustrated because you felt that you weren’t working as well as you could. The stress of your announcement was taking its toll, you were unable to properly converse with your team out of guilt. Hotch sent everyone back to their hotel rooms with the idea that you would start fresh tomorrow. Normally you would room with Spencer, but lately JJ and Emily have been taking turns rooming with both of you. This time you were with Emily.
“I think this may be the first night we’ve gotten to turn in early.” Emily yawns as she dramatically stretches her limbs.
“I’m just glad we got to turn in at all, for a while there it looked like we may have to pull another all nighter.” You force a giggle, exasperated.  
“You okay?” She doesn’t miss a beat, taking the opportunity to ask about your uneasiness. 
“Yeah, fine.” You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 
“You’re going to snap at some point, you know?” She examines your closed off posture, trying to figure out a way to get you to open up. “Something’s clearly wrong. Talk to me.”
“We’re all on edge right now. It’s this case.” You hope that you’re being convincing enough. 
“It's more than that. You’ve been distant from everybody.” Emily briefly thought back to the Ian Doyle debacle, recognising all the signs of somebody preparing to run away at any given moment. 
“I’m aware that I’m not working to my full potential–”
“That’s not what I mean and you know that.” She steps closer to you. “I can’t force you to tell me whatever’s actually on your mind, but I would really appreciate it if you would. I hate seeing you so…detached. Not just from us, but from yourself.”
It’s the empathy in her voice instead of the usual sympathy that finally cracks you. Tears pool your eyes and you sink to the floor. Emily sits down next to you without a word. She tries to pull you in for a hug but you push away. 
“Please don’t.” You sob. “I’m sorry.”
She squeezes your knee to relay that she understands and retracts her hand. Your discomfort with physical touch was another thing you had in common with Spencer. It was just a personal preference for you, unlike his germophobia. He was the only person you were actually comfortable with in terms of touch, but you couldn’t fault others for not respecting that boundary when you’d never verbalised it. 
“I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to tell you guys, but I don’t think there’s any way this gets easier.” You recompose yourself after a moment. “I’m, um, leaving.”
You expect her to get upset with you, but find her unfazed. 
“You don’t look surprised.” 
“Well it’s not entirely surprising. I mean given everything that’s happened.” 
“So you’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” She leans back with her mouth slightly open. 
“Because I feel like I’m abandoning you guys.” You heavily exhale. 
“You’re not abandoning us. You’re doing what you feel is right for you. I mean, am I happy about it? Definitely not. But I know better than anyone why you feel like you need to do this. And it’s not a decision you have to justify to anybody.” Emily reassures you. 
“How do I tell everybody else?” You push for more advice.
“However you feel most comfortable doing it. It doesn’t have to be some big announcement. You can casually break it to them whenever you get the opportunity. They’ll understand.” 
“Thank you, Em.” You genuinely smile this time, eternally grateful that she’s managed to take some pressure off your shoulders.
“Now while you’re in a mood to share…if you wanna talk about something else–” She attempts one last time to get you to talk about Spencer, sensing that the mood lightened a bit. 
“Nice try.” You laugh as you rise to your feet, offering your arms out to her to help her stand.
The following two days were a lot easier on you, mentally. You took Emily’s advice and disclosed your news individually to each team member, each of them more understanding than you’d anticipated. You were surprised to learn that Rossi was already aware, assuming that it came with being a profiler for as long as he had. Derek and JJ did try to talk you out of it initially, but accepted your decision in the end. You still had to talk about this with Garcia, but felt a lot more at ease with mostly everybody knowing.
Except Spencer.
That thought lingered in the back of your mind. You still love him, it’s not something you can just turn off. You shake it off and divert your full attention to the case. Four more bodies had been discovered and with them, a new pattern to the killings. The unsub was devolving. You and Spencer were the only ones at the precinct when the last murder was called in. Meaning you were stuck working on the geographical profile with him while the others were out chasing new leads. 
Realistically, only one of you was needed to build the profile and decided you were going to let him do it. You quietly sat in the furthest seat possible, trying to make yourself invisible and hoping that this would keep him busy enough to not talk to you. The whole week, you hadn’t uttered a single word to him unless it was absolutely necessary for the case. It was as if he didn’t exist, even if he was standing right infront of you. Spencer, on the other hand, spent the whole week prodding you for any reaction he could get. Anytime you made suggestions and he happened to be in the area, he tried to one up you.
At times it felt like he was purposely seeking you out, despite his brutal proclamation five days ago. Every attempt to rile you up failed. The most acknowledgement he got from you was a few scoffs and glares. He hadn’t even realised he was doing it, until Derek asked him point blank what his problem was. He didn’t have an answer, but now that he was aware of it he tried to go out of his way to avoid it. 
That didn’t last more than a few hours. The fact that he had to consciously avoid talking to you pissed him off, especially because he couldn’t stop. You pretending like he didn’t exist pissed him off even more. The one time he took his eyes off the board in front of him they landed on you. You were busy scribbling words in a file, trying to get a head start on your paperwork. 
“Do you plan to help at all?” He sneers, noticing that you looked a lot more relaxed than you did at the start of the case. 
You snap your head towards the board behind him. A rough venn diagram was drawn on a map of the city, small tacked notes labelling prominent buildings in the area. 
“How am I meant to help?” You question, darting your eyes between him and the board out of confusion.
“You’re asking me how to do your job?” He taunts, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.
You dramatically groan, throwing your head back. 
It’s hard to believe that he’s a man of logic in moments like these. There have been far too many in the last few months. You bounce off your seat and head over to the board. Spencer stays glued in his spot and your body accidentally brushes against his as you try to get past. He watches you take off some notes and add on new ones but doesn’t register what you’re doing at first. He’s too intoxicated by your scent. His hand runs through his hair as he steps back in an effort to regain his composure. His teeth grit and his jaw tenses momentarily, he hates that you have the ability to do this to him. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” The pitch of his voice raises and his ears are burning.
“What do you mean?” You roll your eyes, shrugging your arms, sarcasm laced in your words. 
“Don’t try to act all dumb!” He berates, shaking his head. 
“Don’t try to act all smart.” Your eyes roll again. Spencer was slowly starting to wear down your apathy. 
“I am smart.” He scoffs. Your blood boils, this trump card is becoming too repetitive.
“Savour that, it’s the one good thing you’ve got going for you!” You finally snap. 
“You’re UNBELIEVABLE! The first time you bother to answer me all week and it’s just to argue?” He’s trying his best to refrain from yelling.
“Oh! You’ve been trying to start an argument all week and now that I’m giving in you can’t take it?! Actually, why have you been trying so hard, Doctor? I was under the impression that you can’t even stand to look at my face!”
He dryly swallows, unable to respond immediately. The reminder of his words makes him internally cringe. He never meant to say them. It was the most efficient way he could think of at that time to hurt you. Spencer hadn’t anticipated the sheer amount of will power it would take to stay away from you. You seeking him out made it infinitely harder. His fake disdain was a defence mechanism, he was hiding behind hatred to get the job done. 
“YOU–”
“Alright, that’s enough!” Hotch loudly cuts him off. 
Neither you nor Spencer noticed the teams return during your squabble. You’re slightly embarrassed, wondering how much they’ve witnessed. Spencer turns away from you and looks to the blank wall on the other side of the room. You look to the floor and bite the inside of your cheek. 
“Care to explain what’s going on?” He grills and you feel like a petulant child receiving a lecture from your father. 
“She wasn’t doing her job!” Spencer complains. “And when I brought it up she messed up my profile!”
“God you’re insufferable! It’s called ‘narrowing the profile’, Spencer. Maybe if you did it properly, I wouldn’t have to.” You retort. 
“Hey!” Hotch scolds.
It falls silent for a second, awkward glances finding their way around the room. Rossi breaks it first. 
“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were bickering toddlers instead of FBI agents.”
You make eye contact with Morgan trying to hold in a laugh and it makes you snort. 
“We will discuss this later. Let’s focus on the updates we’ve gathered.” Hotch dismisses due to more pressing matters at hand. 
“After talking to friends of the latest victims, I can confirm that they were all last seen in the same club.” JJ pipes up first.
“And the dumpsites are all less than twenty minutes away from there. He’s definitely not holding them anymore.” Morgan adds.
“That has to be where he’s choosing his victims. Did the medical examiner find anything new?” Hotch asks.
“Traces of GHB.” Emily replies. “We don’t know how he’s administering it into their systems, but my guess would be through the drinks.”
“Gamma-hydroxybutyrate, mostly known as GHB, is a party drug that produces feelings of euphoria, confidence, relaxation and sociability. Side effects of GHB can include drowsiness, vomiting, mood swings, dependence, as well as more serious symptoms of unconsciousness. When mixed with alcohol the risk of overdose increases as it can cause respiratory collapse leading to coma or in extreme cases death.” Spencer’s about to continue but quickly recognises that it’s a tangent he needs to cut short. 
“Wait JJ what club were the victims last seen in?” You inquire, walking closer to the map.
When she relays the name it clicks. 
“That’s smack in the middle of the comfort zone.” You point at a small red note labelling the building. 
“So how do we catch this guy? I mean the club would be packed and we don’t know what this guy looks like. The profile tells us that he would blend in, nothing would stand out about him.” Morgan subtly suggests a string operation.
“Except for when he’s alone with the object of his rage. Which in our case would be the women he’s using as surrogates. He'd be possessive, become clingy, hold on too tight and once those advances are rejected he’d fly into blind rage.” Spencer exclaims without realising the weight of his input. 
“Yeah…but he has a very specific type.” Rossi hesitates. 
A fact that everybody had been avoiding the case because of how close it hit to home. 
You’re his exact type.
“No.” Hotch shuts down.
“Hotch, think about it. I mean this guy is not slowing down. A sting might be our best bet to stop him before he kills again.” JJ shares Rossi’s hesitation.
“It’s too risky!” Spencer blurts, making it clear he’s against the idea. 
Everyone begins to chime in with their input, but you stay silent and think it over. None of them wanted to put you in this position, but you’d seen the bodies and what he’d done to those women. What he’ll continue to do to other women if he isn’t stopped. It was a no brainer on your end. 
“I’ll do it!” You announce amidst the chatter.
It comes to an immediate halt, all eyes shifting on you.
“What?” Spencer scoffs.
You can tell that he’s genuinely surprised by the small hitch in his voice. Emily sceptically calls your name, posing it as a question. 
“I’ll do it.” You reiterate, taking care to seem as confident as possible.
“Absolutely not! The odds of this going wrong are way too high!” Spencer howls with a little too much passion. 
“Reid’s right. The unsub is way too unpredictable.” Hotch debates.
“JJ has a point, think about it!” You argue. “We know for a fact that he’s going to strike tonight. Sending me undercover as bait is better than staking out the place and waiting for him to target a civilian!” 
“Okay so let’s send somebody else!” Spencer contests, his tone prayerful. 
For a split second, you see your best friend again. He’s showing more regard for you now than he has in months and it makes your heart sink knowing it won’t be forever. Still, you try to reason with him while he’s there.
“There’s no time! I fit his type. This is our best option.”
“No, this is stupid and dangerous. You’re not going in there!” He’s gone again. 
“That’s not your call to make!” You snap. 
“Hotch no!” Spencer tries again.
“Kid, relax! This isn’t her first undercover mission.” Morgan attempts to calm Reid. “Plus we’ll all be there in case anything goes wrong.”
“Statistically–”
“For God’s sake forget the fucking statistics! People’s lives are at stake!” You loudly end his tangent before it can begin. 
“Alright, everybody calm down!” Hotch speaks up, making it a point to stare down Spencer. 
He’d made his decision and Spencer can only stare back in disbelief, too breathless to argue. 
‘Like Morgan said, we’ll be there watching over you, along with some local law enforcement. You won’t be wired, but we’ll have a fail safe just in case you need backup earlier than expected. We don’t have a lot of time. Let’s get to work.” The unit chief asserts. 
Before anyone can make any further moves, Spencer storms out of the room. JJ runs after him, assuring Hotch that she’ll take care of it. The rest of you break off to your assigned tasks, preparing for the operation that night. 
“Spence! Slow down!” She yells, chasing him all the way outside the precinct. 
He’s breathing too fast, practically on the edge of hyperventilating. He pushes his hair back with both of his hands, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. 
“Spence what the hell is going on with you?” JJ pants, reaching out to touch his shoulder.
“Me?!” Spencer yanks himself away from her. “What the hell is going on with all of you?! You’re all insane for allowing her to do this!”
“She’s a grown woman and a trained agent! This is her decision. She knows what she’s getting herself into.” JJ reminds him. 
“Well it’s not a very smart decision! She shouldn’t be making decisions this…this reckless!” He shrieks. 
“Okay you need to calm down!” JJ sternly states. 
“Jennifer, do not tell me to calm down! She’s about to make herself a direct target for a psychopathic sadist and you’re all just letting it happen!”
“So what? Should we let some innocent woman become his next target?” 
“No! I’m not saying we should– just– why does it have to be her?!” The emphasis on his last word gives him away, JJ picks up on it instantly. 
“That’s what this is about? C’mon you know better than this.” She relaxes her shoulders. “Spencer, we all care about her. We all want her to be safe. And she will be as long as we separate out feelings from–”
“Feelings? This has nothing to do with how I feel–”
“Okay stop! Stop! God!” JJ huffs with pauses between her words. “I am so sick of this! This is clearly about your feelings. The past four months have all been about–”
She smacks her hands against her face as she takes a deep breath, a display of frustration. 
“Listen to me.” She commands, exhausted from the back and forth. “It’s clear that you two care deeply for each other, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. Neither of you will talk about whatever it is that’s caused this rift– fine! But don’t you think it’s time to bury the hatchet now that she’s leaving?”
Spencer freezes. 
“...Leaving?” He repeats, taken off guard. 
JJ takes a moment to read his expression. 
“She didn’t tell you?” JJ mutters, still scanning his face. 
“What– what are you…” He can’t find the words, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to process her words.
“She’s resigning, Spencer. She’s leaving the FBI.” JJ can’t hide how she’s surprised that you haven’t shared this with him. 
“No, that's not possible. She loves this job. Why would she leave?” Denial is his first response.
Spencer thinks over your possible motivations and can only land on the obvious. You’d only leave if you grew to hate the job. 
Did he do this? Did he make you hate it?
“We were all surprised when she first told us, I mean, it came out of nowhere.”
“We?” He rubs his temple, anticipating a possible migraine from the bomb that just dropped on him. “How long?”
“What?”
“How long have you guys known?” He balefully sighs, trying his hardest to not misplace his anger. 
“It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.” 
He had no one to be angry at, but himself.
“A day? Maybe two? She told us individually. Honestly with this case I haven’t had time to wrap my head around it.” JJ honestly reveals. 
So not long. Maybe you were still making your way around to telling him? You wouldn’t just leave without so much as telling him, would you?
A few months ago, Spencer would’ve confidently answered no. Today he was sure that you would. He so badly hoped that he was wrong. 
“Spence, look, we can talk about this later. But right now, you need to make sure you’re able to stay objective. Can you do that?”
He nods relentlessly, tucking his hair behind his ears. A habit he adapted early in life. It was an indicator of the gears turning in his head. JJ gives him a few more minutes outside before guiding him back in to help with preparations. Spencer absentmindedly performed his tasks, but all he could think about was you. 
You’re leaving and he’s the only person you hadn’t disclosed this information to. Abandonment was a feeling he was all too used to, but he never imagined that you’d abandon him. He knows that he can only blame himself, but he still can’t help the irritation that’s creeping in his veins. 
Even as he straps up his hidden bullet proof vest hours later, he can’t push the sentiment away. You were setting yourself up as bait for one of the most dangerous types of serial killers. On top of purposely putting yourself in direct line danger, you were leaving without telling him. He would’ve showed up to work one day and you’d be gone.
Right now he stands just a few feet away from you and you don’t look toward him once. No one would be able to guess that you’re undercover. It’s amazing how you’ve managed to transform yourself from supervisory special agent to a regular socialite and party girl in a couple of hours.
If he could overcome the hurt he feels at the moment, he might see how breathtaking you look. Then again, you always appear breathtaking to him. Before he knows it, he’s walked right up to you. You don’t feel his presence looming behind you until you bump into him when you turn around. 
“Shit Spencer!” You jump, mostly because of the nerves from the upcoming night. 
He’s about to say something but you beat him to it.
“Don’t start! I’m not in the mood.” You brush him off and disappear out of sight.
It was like that for much of the preparations. He’d muster the courage to try and talk to you, and you’d walk away. Much like how Spencer would avoid you when your friendship first fell apart. 
“Everybody in position?” Hotch inquires through his ear piece. 
“Affirmative.” Morgan gives the greenlight for your entry into the club. 
You made your way to the bar, making it a point to sit alone. You didn’t have to wait long. Archie Carter, 36, cheated on by his ex fiance before their wedding. She ran away with another man because Archie failed to keep his sadistic traits hidden and it scared her off. Torturing and murdering women who looked like her was his way of giving her a real reason to be scared. 
This was all information Garcia found after it was nearly too late. He’d managed to get you on the dance floor, subtly injecting you with the GHB. You didn’t even feel him do it. To everybody else it just seemed like you were playing your part really well on the dance floor, when in reality you were struggling to stand up. You couldn’t give out any signals and he was able to slip you away into the back alley under the noses of five FBI agents. 
It was Spencer who’d found you fighting for your life against Archie’s grip around your throat. Spencer, who put the bullet in Archie’s head after being unable to talk him down. Spencer who kneeled above you, begging you to come back as he began CPR. If he’d found you any later you might’ve been gone for good. 
Pissed was an understatement.
At the piece of shit that almost ripped you away from the world. At Hotch and the team for not listening. At himself for being right. Not you though, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t pissed at you. He was terrified. Both for you and for almost losing you. 
You had to stay a few extra days in Anchorage, bound to your hospital room. The team refused to fly back without you, each of them taking turns to keep you company. They all felt an immense amount of guilt but you reassured them that it wasn’t their fault. Your tongue grew tired of reminding them that this was a part of the job. Rossi joked that it was a good thing you were leaving it all behind in that case and it stung more than you were willing to admit. 
In your brush with death you came to the revelation that you didn’t want to leave, but hearing Spencer’s voice lull you back to him confirmed that you needed to. You couldn’t bring yourself to hear him talk everyday and not be the person he was talking to. It was why you had basically barred him from visiting you during your recovery there. Seeing his face was more than you could handle at the time. Not seeing yours weighed on him, because he needed to see if you were okay.
Physically, he knew you’d be fine once the doctors confirmed it. Mentally, he knew all too well of the repercussions that came with almost dying directly by the hands of an unsub. You’d been discharged and cleared fifty eight hours after you were admitted, and the team was ready to fly back a few hours later. All the signs of being less than okay were there. He recognised them as soon as he saw you board the jet. 
Besides the obvious bruises collaring your neck, there was some minor swelling that lingered. That wasn’t his biggest concern. It was the smile plastered on you when you put on your ‘I’m okay’ act for the others. Your eyes, like always, gave you away. You were already trying to sweep everything under the rug. Less than a few minutes after take off you isolated yourself in the back. You’d been doing that a lot in your recent cases. 
It irked him how everybody just let you. He decided right then that he wasn’t going to. He didn’t care how much you hate him, he was going to ensure that you came out of this truly okay. You were mindlessly staring out the window, counting the clouds, listening to the music playing through your headphones. You tried to ignore the feeling of being watched. You’d felt like that since you came to, in the alley. 
It took you a second to understand that you were actually being watched, turning to find Spencer in the previously empty seat across from you. 
“You’ve gotta stop sneaking up on me.” You snark, ripping off your headphones, still recovering from the small jump scare.
“Sorry.” He chuckles out of habit.
You unintentionally smile at the sound and find yourself staring in his eyes. 
“Are–” He falters as he thinks the question over in his head. “Is there anything I can get you?”
You’re taken aback, not expecting those words. You had a script prepared to waive off questions about your well being. He knows you better than that, throwing you off course as usual.
“What do you want?” You grumble, accepting that you couldn’t get past him.
“I want to know if there’s anything I can get you.” He repeats in a low tone. 
There he is again. The Spencer you know and love. Your heart threatens to leap.
“If this is to clear some guilty conscience, don’t bother.” You verbally guard yourself. “I’m fine.”
It would be a lie if he said his reasoning was completely selfless. He was hardly able to keep away from you without feeling like he was drowning, but it was nothing compared to how he felt when he thought he may have lost you forever. The feeling didn’t last very long, he was able to revive you within a few seconds, but never feeling like that again would be too soon. 
Spencer believed in two things; statistics and facts. One fact he refused to ignore any longer is that he couldn’t live without you. He quietly opened that satchel that still clung across his torso, fishing out some pain killers and an unopened water bottle. 
“I know you probably forgot to take yours out of your bag.” He ignores your previous comment and slides the items across the table to you. 
Your gaze lingers on the items in front of you, but your hands stay folded in your lap as you piece everything together. 
“You know.” You whisper. 
“Were you going to tell me?” He gulps after a beat of silence. 
“Does it matter?” You're quick to respond.
“I wanna hear it from you.” He’s just as fast. 
You look up from the leaf of pills, he’s already surveilling you. It’s a short lived staring contest because your focus shifts behind him to Hotch, who’s observing this encounter from the kitchenette on the other end. Spencer continues waiting on you for a response but you stand up, ready to walk away. It dawns on you when you see your supervisor that technically you hadn’t officially resigned yet. The paperwork never got started because this case took priority and that was a detail you needed to sort out right away.
“Don’t go.” Spencer pleads when you take your first step.
Was it a request to sit back down or to stay with the BAU? You didn’t bother to clarify, he had no right to ask for either. 
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You let out a deep, exasperated sigh as you lie curled up in your warm sheet, scowling at the floor beneath you. It seemed that the universe (your friends) had it out to delay your departure as much as possible. It’s been four days since your return from Anchorage and you’ve been stuck in your apartment since Hotch dropped you off here. He’s ordered mandatory time off for your recovery, meaning the paperwork has to wait. 
You could be using this time in a more productive manner. You could be searching for a new job. And a new place to live. You should be trying to figure out where this new place would be. You never actually thought that far ahead. In your haste to run away, you forgot to plan your next steps. You’ve convinced yourself that you can’t do any of it until the forms are filled out. 
The ‘universe’ isn’t the only thing delaying you. 
If you really wanted to, you could have everything emailed to you. You can have it done online, but there are two major problems. The first is pretty straight forward; you’re not ready to leave. You know that this is the best course of action for everybody, but your brain and your heart are at an impasse. You’ve dedicated years to this job because you love this job. Unfortunately, you love Spencer more, which means that staying is going to drive you to hate your job. 
The other reason is slightly more nuanced and you don’t want to think about it, opting to let your impasse be the reason for your lack of motivation to do anything other than bed rotting. It’s not as bad as it seems, it’s more self care than anything. Your body’s telling you it needs to rest and you’re simply obliging. Plus, it couldn’t be that serious if you still had bursts when you had to keep up appearances. You have to be okay if you’re able to force yourself to open the front door for your coworkers when they come to check on you. You really weren’t that miserable if you managed to smile and laugh for their short visits. 
And it’s not like you’re truly rotting. You showered quite often, you actually just had your second one today. You were definitely okay if you could manage to keep up with hygiene. It’s not excessive, you need to scrub the purple away. You know that’s not how it works, but you can’t stand to look at the parts of your neck where his hands were wrapped around. If you close your eyes for long enough you can still feel him squeezing until–
You’re okay.
No, you’re irritated. The incessant knocking on your front door won’t stop no matter how much you ignore it. You were relieved when evening came. It meant that normal visiting hours were over and you could rest today. If it wasn’t any of your usual visitors then it had to be stranger. The thought made you uneasy, you hesitated to answer it at all. 
You can’t live in fear all the time. 
The door eventually opens and Spencer sees you for the first time in days. He actually tried to check on you earlier, but Penelope insisted everybody stick to her roster so you don’t get overwhelmed. The circles under your eyes were almost as dark as his, you hadn’t been getting much sleep. The swelling around your throat was almost all gone, but the bruising wasn’t healing like he expected it to. 
“Spencer…what are you doing here?” Your voice is hoarse. 
“I brought take out.” He gently dangles a bag of food in front of him, his voice high, but quiet. 
You can practically smell the contents of the bag, nostalgia hitting you like a ton of bricks. It was your favourite thing to order on the days he’d come over for movie nights. Before Spencer showed you a side of him you didn’t know existed. It felt like a taunt, like he was twisting the metaphorical knife he plunged in your heart. It made you sick.
“I already ate.” You lie, mustering a dull smile on your face.
Spencer swallows and bites the inside of his cheek, not taking his eyes off you. Trying to think of the best way to call you out without causing you to shun him. 
“We can do something else until you’re hungry again.” He gives a tight lipped smile and raises his furrowed brows, like he’s pleading for you to accept his offer.
“I don’t think I’ll be hungry anytime soon.” You awkwardly laugh– well it’s close to a laugh if not for your strained vocal chords. 
“Can I come in anyway? We can put on a movie.” He’s using the voice he used to when trying to comfort you or convince you of something. Soft, low, steady. It’s a stark contrast to the voice you’ve been hearing for the last ten days. 
Please don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.
Tears threaten the composure you’re working so hard to maintain.
“Why are you really here?” You sigh, unable to stick with the pleasantries. 
“I told you.” He emphasises the bag of food in his hands again. “Take out. Maybe a movie–”
“Cut the shit.” You assert, harshly. “You can tell Penelope that you came to see me so she gets off your back, but please stop pretending like you care.”
“That’s…is that why you think I’m here?” His shoulders drop.
“Isn’t it?” You bite, your door now wide open as you lean against it for support. Your legs are aching to curl into your chest again. 
“No.” His reply is short and clear, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “I’m here because I want to be here.”
“Why? There’s nothing in it for you.” You scoff, blinking from confusion. “Unless…is this some sick game? Seeing me like this– knowing that I’m– are you trying to gloat?”
“Gloat?” He repeats in almost a whisper, the hurt in his voice evident.
“Relish, rejoice, rub it in, I don’t know. You’re the walking thesaurus.”
He can tell from your lax posture that you're amused. Your back is against your door, hands behind your back and you’re leaning forward a bit as you stare at the ground. Not caring that your words cut deep.
Is this how low you think he is?
“Why would I be enjoying this?” His hopeful smile drops entirely as he tries to understand you. 
“Call it epicaricacy.” You shrug. 
“Epicaricacy?” He mumbles in a whispered tone, like he’s trying to process what you said.
Deriving pleasure from the misfortune of others.
Your eyes roll from how slow he’s acting and you have to hold yourself back from repeating the definition out loud.
“Do you honestly think I enjoy seeing you like this?” The change in pitch stings a bit. 
“No, I don’t think you like seeing me at all.” You half smirk up at him, sadness evident in your eyes. “Which brings us back to…why are you here Doc?”
“That’s not true.” He cringes, ignoring the second part.
“Not true?” You wiggle your brows sarcastically. 
“Not true.” He reaffirms, sighing deeply. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” 
“You’re sorry.” You scoff again, shaking your head.
“I know that I’ve been unreasonable–”
“Unreasonable?” The tip of your tongue rolls against the back of your teeth, bewildered at his sheer audacity. 
“A dick! I’ve been a dick.” He corrects himself, desperate to have you hear him out. 
You tighten your jaw, inhaling lightly through your nose and your brows are raised as high as they can go. 
“I was hurt. Okay? I wash lashing out, but, I–” He takes a deep breath to stop himself, wanting to get to the point. “I know that I’ve been acting otherwise but, I care about you. And when I found you back there…I just…I know what you’re going through, even if you won’t admit it. I don’t want you to go through it alone.”
Your expression softens as he speaks. Of course he knows. He knows you better than anyone. For a moment you consider allowing yourself to break down in his arms, like you would have once. It’s jarring, Spencer reverting to his former self after he saved your life. The comfort swiftly bubbles into anger. All your attempts for reconciliation were met with so much hostility before. It took you almost dying for him to care. It feels too little too late. The only thing you can think of as he stands next to you is all the ways he can further hurt you if you let him. You push off your door and stand straight, giggling bitterly. 
“Spencer, go home.” You say with the same bitterness. 
“Please–”
“Go home! I don’t want your pity!” You yell. It feels alleviating. “Do you honestly think that  anything changes just because you saved my life? Do you think it erases everything that’s happened in the past few months? Because it doesn’t! Things can’t go back to how they were simply because you feel bad that I almost died. It’s not a flip you can switch. You don’t just get to start caring!” 
You're heaving and he can only stare at the ground. He knows you’re right, except for the one crucial error in your speech. 
“I never stopped caring.” He mumbles.
This fucking idiot.
Enraged, sad, frustrated, confused; all emotions you’ve been suppressing that are now fighting to show at the same time. You take a step closer to him and he meets your eyes again. You can see that he’s holding back tears, same as you. It fuels you in a twisted way. You have an opportunity to hurt him the way he hurt you and you don’t let it go to waste.
“Don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work to see your face at work, I don’t want to see it in my personal time too.” 
You can’t stay to see the effects of his words thrown back at his face, your heart’s threatening to burst from how fast it’s racing. His jaw locks from how tense he is. He knows exactly why you said it, but it’s still hard to hear. You turn around and rush into your apartment, shutting the door on his face, leaving him standing there. You don’t make it too far inside, collapsing on the wooden floor with a choked sob. 
That didn’t make you feel as good as you thought it would. You hoped that maybe if you could make him feel at least a fraction of you’re feeling, you’d hurt less. It was more than just getting back at him for everything he’s done. You were unknowingly trying to punish him for what Archie Carter did too. It didn’t make you hurt any less, but at least you felt less alone in your hurt. 
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He didn’t come back for the rest of your time off. Everybody continued to follow the roster, showing up on their days and bringing you ‘get well soon’ goodies. Penelope even invited herself over for a night's stay once. You didn’t have the heart to say no, but you found yourself counting the hours until you’d be alone again, free to wallow. The only respite you got for the next week was on Spencer’s days. You could expect to be left mostly alone, only a bag of take out accompanied by an eerily fitting quote sitting outside your door. 
You hate to admit that those were your favourite days. You had a chance to breathe and he somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear. You gave the food away in protest and the quote would go straight in the bin (once you read it). One final psych evaluation later you were cleared to come back. Not that you needed one since you didn’t plan to stay for long. It was really just a formality. By the time you returned only a few faded bruises remained, easy enough to cover with concealer. 
“You’re back! Ooh, it’s so good to see you!” Garcia was the first with a warm greeting and a tight hug. You reciprocated to the best of your ability. 
“Good to have you back, Pretty Girl.” Derek’s second, walking you through the bullpen as you make your way to Hotch’s office.
“Enjoy it while you can.” You giggle in reply. “Is Hotch in yet?”
“I see someone can’t wait to leave us.” Emily jokes, feigning a hurt look. You roll your eyes.
“Yeah, he’s expecting you.” JJ laughs, slapping Emily’s arm playfully. 
“Thanks JJ!” You smile and they all watch you disappear behind the door. 
“So it’s official? She’s really leaving?” JJ questions through a half-hearted smile. 
“I asked Rossi and he said that Hotch is gonna ask her to stay until we find a replacement.” Emily replies, still eyeing the door. 
“How did you get Rossi to admit that?” JJ turns to the raven head, questioningly, and Emily smiles coyly giving no response. 
“Am I the only one who thinks this whole thing would end once they make up? I mean come on, we all know she’s leaving because of him, right?” Morgan looks at Spencer, who’s nose deep in a file at his desk. 
“Yeah, but we can’t help if they refuse to talk to us about it.” Emily sighs, hanging her head back. 
The three dive deeper into their discussion and you’re none the wiser from inside the cream-coloured walls of Hotch’s office. As per protocol, he’s just finished informing you of what’s next and you’re kind enough to accept his request to stay until they find a replacement. You definitely said yes because you want to make the team’s transition easier, not for any self indulgent reasons such as you not being ready to leave. 
“Just return this to me once you’ve filled it out.” He instructs as he hands you a file containing your resignation forms. 
“Thanks Hotch.” You smile, grabbing the file. 
You begin heading towards the door when he stops you by your name. 
“I understand that you’re set on this decision, but I am sad to see you go.” It’s insane how many emotions this man can get across while maintaining a blank expression. “However, if you change your mind at any point, let me know.” 
“Thanks Hotch.” You playfully scoff, appreciating that even he has to try at least once. 
If one more person tries though, you might scream. It wasn’t easy, pretending that you weren’t crumbling inside. The extra pressure doesn’t make it any easier. You leave his office, closing the door behind you and approach your desk. The resignation forms are put aside for later as you still have to finish your case report from Anchorage. Part of you wanted to put it off until the last minute, the other part wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible. 
“Coffee?” Penelope chirps, holding out a mug filled with the hot beverage. 
“Thanks Pen.” You smile up at her, taking it out of her hands. 
“No problem.” She smirks mischievously and trots off. 
A strange lady, but your strange lady.
Upon your first sip you almost choke it out. It was perfect. Exactly to your liking. Which would be a good thing, except only one person knows exactly how you like it. Back when you first joined, you learned how popular coffee was with all the employees. You felt out of place because you weren’t a massive fan of the drink and you avoided too much sugar because it made you feel sick. You soon discovered that you liked it a lot more with honey instead. It was a weird preference, but it worked for you, making it sweet without overpowering your senses like sugar did. 
You never declined a cup when offered by your colleagues, not wanting to dishearten them. It was Spencer who caught you sneaking honey into your cup when you thought no one was paying attention. He never mentioned anything to you, but the next time he returned with a cup to offer, you couldn’t help but the smile that adorned your face for the rest of the day. It was why you dedicated yourself to morning breakfast runs for him, memorising his coffee order as a silent thank you. Neither of you ever talked about it. 
You spin your seat around to find Spencer engaged in conversation with Rossi. You consider walking past him and dumping the beverage in the sink to make a point, but it was a welcome energiser for the dreadful task at hand. Plus you aren’t wasteful. You spin back around and decide to accept it just this once. 
When he’s sure you’re no longer looking he sets his sights back on you. A small smile forms across his lips when he sees you drink the coffee. He honestly expected you to throw it away. He feared that if he was the one to deliver the mug, you’d throw it on him. It was why he convinced Garcia to do it, bribing her by promising to buy a round of drinks on the next night out. 
“Kid, are you even listening?” Rossi scolds in an incredulous way. 
As the hours pass, your frustration grows. You couldn’t get yourself to write the details of the case. Your mind refused to think about it. You had hoped that taking breaks would make it easier, but everytime you returned to the page your head went blank.
“Need some help?” Spencer asks, spawning next to you.
“Christ, Reid!” You blurt, startled. “I thought I told you to stop doing that.” 
“Sorry.” He chuckles as if on cue. 
You glare at him expectantly. He doesn’t say anything, glancing between you and the unfinished case file, waiting for an answer. 
“No thanks.” You keep it short, hoping he takes the hint. 
“Let me know if you do.” He doesn’t. 
“You wouldn’t even be the last person I’d ask if I did.” You snark. 
“But you would eventually?” He stays calm, almost playful. 
Smart ass. 
You choose to ignore him, be the bigger person and all that. Even though he wasn’t antagonising you. 
“Thanks for the coffee.” It’s forceful gratitude. You weren’t feeling grateful, but you still had manners. 
“You’re welcome.” 
“Don’t make it again.” 
“I will not.” He grins and walks away to his desk. 
You act like you don’t know he’s watching you work. Looking up often to find you stuck on the same page. Even if he knew that you know, he didn’t plan to stop. What he does know is that you’d never directly let him help you. He doesn’t care. There weren’t any new cases this week, so a ton of paperwork was to be expected. It’s taunting enough to write down details of your own assault, the extra paperwork would only add more stress. You’re too busy trying to push through the mental blockade to notice the sudden influx of files on his desk and the efflux on yours. 
What you didn’t miss was how the next cup of coffee you were offered was just as perfect as the one from before. 
“I thought I told you to stop with the coffee, Reid.” You lightly slam the paper cup on Spencer’s desk. 
He leans back in his seat and chews on his lip with an entertained smirk. 
“And I did. That’s not from me.” He’s earnest with his response.
“Oh, so JJ just happens to know my coffee preferences all of a sudden?” You sarcastically retort, crossing your arms.
“No.” He crosses his fingers across his lap. “I told her how you like your coffee when she said she was going on a coffee run.”
“And why did you do that?” You play along, unenthusiastically. 
“Because you told me to stop doing it.” He states in the most casual way possible. 
This was getting you nowhere. It was naive to think he’d let you spend your last few weeks here peacefully. Scratch that– he was being peaceful. Too peaceful. A new tactic to get under your skin?
“Stop. It.” The delivery of your words is slow and emphasised. 
“Stop doing exactly what you’ve told me to?”
You bite your tongue and glare at him. His face, shoulders, arms, everything, is relaxed. You can’t even argue with him. You take a moment to consider how bad it would be if you bashed his head in with the back of your gun. Then you take another to critique how easy it is to pass the psych evals. They should really think about the consequences of using questions the BAU wrote on actual BAU agents. 
After that day you went back to ignoring him. Any time coffee was offered you’d decline altogether. If he attempted to try and talk to you, you’d respond with yes or no for the sake of professionalism. This didn’t deter Spencer though. He gave you your space but kept a close eye on you, continuing to try and ease your burdens from afar. Exactly how he used to. 
This only lasted until the next case came in. Specifically until you were back out on the field, where he perceived you to be in high amounts of danger. You tolerated it because it gave you comfort, not that you’d ever tell him. Having Spencer by your side made it easier to deal with the reality that there’s little you can do if another incident like Anchorage occurred. 
Plus focusing your energy on ignoring him kept the flashbacks away. Or it did, until the take down. You once again found yourself in danger from an unsub, only this time the situation was controlled. All guns were pointed at the killer, except for the one that was pointed at you. The plan was simple: you talk down the unsub, take him back to the station and talk him into exposing his partner. 
Everything was going according to plan, until Spencer realised that one of the cops in the room was his partner and he was about to shoot you. Nobody understood what happened before the situation calmed down. Spencer had fired the first shot towards the dirty cop and immediately tackled you to the ground, shielding you from the hail of bullets that followed after. All you remember clearly is freezing up, clinging to the man on top of you. One moment you were screaming out, trying to make sure that he was okay and the next you were back in the alley behind the bar, fighting for your life. 
You didn’t comprehend anything until the panic attack subsided but Spencer was fine. His vest caught the bullets. Both unsubs were dead. Rossi and Prentiss came to the realisation the same time as Spencer and were quick to react. And you weren’t in the alley. You were in Spencer’s arms as he led you away from the scene when it was safe. 
When you snapped out of it the medics had cleared him of any injuries. He tried to approach you during your check up, but you shoved him away, unable to even look at him. The only thing you remember clearly is Hotch sending you all back to your hotel rooms before tomorrow’s flight back. You should be asleep right now, if not from the exhaustion of today’s events alone, then from how long you spent reassuring everybody that you were okay. 
You couldn’t sleep. Not when so many thoughts were occupying your headspace. This is the second time Spencer’s saved your life, in the span of roughly a month. The first time he’s put his life in direct danger to save yours. Had it not been for his vest he would be dead. The more you linger on it, the angrier you’d become. You were also wearing a vest, you would’ve been fine. What he did was unnecessary and reckless. 
What if the bullet missed the vest? Entered through the side? What was he thinking?
You were mentally fighting the urge to barge into his room and yell at him for his stupidity, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go to him. What happens to him is not your problem anymore. You aren’t going to let your guard down just because he’s an idiot.
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Spoilers: BAU! Reader, Reader almost dies, Reader and Spencer are pissing me off, bc they’re so dumb, angst, hurt no comfort, Reader gets a little revenge.
AN - Before you comment ANYTHING, there is one more part. It’ll be posted a lot sooner than this one was. Writing this made me realise how limited the English language is. There’s only so many words to use and ways to write them. If either part sounds repetitive at times, it’s not my fault!!! Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.
If you comment you garner good karma for yourself and that could lead to you meeting MGG someday (I’m not liable if this never happens), think about that... 
Thank you for reading!
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pierregazly · 7 months ago
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tying you to me ꨄ max verstappen
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max verstappen x reader
warnings: sweet max, random coincidences to lovers trope, happy ending [wc: 4.3k]
[4 times] in which something coincidentally led back to max, and the [1 time] it turned out nothing was just a coincidence (in which everything has always tied max to you).
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Time, curious time  Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs  Were there clues I didn't see? 
It felt like a never-ending nightmare. 
One thing after another, one bad day after another, one bad week after the next. It felt like it was never going to end. 
The person that was supposed to be that person, the man that was supposed to be forever, the person that was going to be standing at the end of the aisle... leaving with a simple apology and a ‘I’m sorry, it’s me, not you’... it was incomprehensible.  
It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around what had gone wrong. Was he telling the truth? Was it really him? Or was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the blunder? The inevitable demise?  
Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you, it was so evident it wasn’t meant to be. Nothing connected to him, there were no signs pointing to him being the one, there was no inevitable connection. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the internal heartbreak that felt like it was never going to end. 
All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling, that pulled you to another person, that proved they were the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know that it was so obvious, he just wasn’t that person. 
The coffee shop you currently sat in had become a morning staple after the last few weeks. After coming back to Monaco for a much-needed reprieve from the rest of the world, the little coffee shop nestled into the charming walls of Monte-Carlo had become a necessary distraction to the outside. 
The employees all knew you by name now, often passing by the table and inquiring about your day, inquiring about the book you were reading, or the work assignment shown on your computer screen. Always engaging in polite conversation back, it was one of your favourite places to be. 
People-watching was the only negative of it. The loving couples who passed through, all cuddled up together as they ordered their drinks for their walk throughout the city, the older couples who sat just tables away and reminisced on their lives together. It was the only thing that drove you crazy about the charming little shop.  
Watching them occupied your thoughts more time’s than you cared to admit. Daydreaming and losing focus on the outside world was a commonality, especially in the little coffee shop. 
It was exactly where you found yourself currently, your eye’s peering to the left as you watched an older man place his hand over who you assumed to be his wife’s hand. Their wedding bands shining brightly in the Monaco sun, soft smiles on their faces as they peered at one another, your heart begging to be let out of this turmoil, begging you to turn away and focus on something else, anything else. 
Its wish was granted when you felt the cold of a drink begin to sink into your shirt, instantly soaking your skin, a gasp of shock falling from your lips. 
“Oh god, I am so sorry. I just turned around and you were right there, let me grab some cloths, please.” 
You knew instantly it was your own fault, you hadn’t been paying attention, more focused on the elderly couple, prompting the person in front of you to spill their... was that Red Bull? On your shirt? 
“Is this Red Bull?”  
The man in front of you grimaced as he handed you the dry cloths, a small smile falling across his lips while his eyes crinkled with the movement of his face. A bit of a cute look, you thought to yourself while beginning to dab at your shirt as the smell of the energy drink wafted up your nose. 
“Yes, I’m so sorry. I don’t drink coffee often, but my sister wanted to stop here because she had heard good things, I was just waiting for her drink while she took a quick call outside. I really only drink Red Bull in public when I have to, or when I’m getting paid to. I thought it was her behind me when I whipped around like that, I’m so sorry. Please, can I buy you a coffee as an apology? Or a tea?” 
You weren’t entirely sure if the rambling was out of nerves that you were going to overreact over the spilt drink, or if he just simply felt like he owed it to you to explain the entire incident and how it came about in full description. 
The frustration that was brewing was not at all a fault of the cute man in front of you, but an accumulation of days of sadness, an irregular appetite, and just a combination of heartbreak. 
Trying to keep the tears of frustration at bay, you instantly shook your head towards the cute man in front of you. “Thank you, but no. Obviously this is a sign I need to go home, sorry for spilling your drink.” 
Before he could get the chance to say anything back, you were forcing yourself to rush out of the coffee shop before an outburst could erupt from inside of you. You hadn’t even noticed the look of intrigue that the Dutchman gave you. 
Bad was the blood of the song in the cab  On your first trip to LA  You ate at my favorite spot for dinner 
The memory of the handsome Dutchman in the small coffee shop left your mind not long before the happy memories of your ex-boyfriend finally forced themselves out of your head. Things had finally begun looking up, the more time you spent with your friends, the more time you spent focusing on work and the hopeful promotion that would come with it. 
Although, your boss had insisted you take a few weeks off, citing the fact you were there more than anyone she knew, and that burnout was inevitable if you didn’t take the much deserved and obligated time off. The amount of overtime and banked hours allowing you to take the time off with full pay just made it easier to agree. 
Which was exactly how you found yourself just south of Zurich, the snow whipping past your face as the ski lift ascended higher and higher up the mountain. Your friends giggled beside you, smiles lighting up everyone’s faces. 
Winter break, although cold and snowy, was always a fan favourite amongst your friend group. It was exhilarating, you hadn’t had the chance to attend the annual ski trip while you were with your ex-boyfriend, he hated skiing and anything including winter sports.  
It’s what made the trip even better, getting the chance to catch up with your friends and their partners, the chance to laugh, and drink, and just smile again. It was all worth it.  
The group of guys in the ski lift behind obviously had the same idea, hooting and hollering at each other as the ski lift continued its ascent. You couldn’t decipher what they were saying, the words in a different language, but the name ‘Max’ seemed to be a commonality. Maybe someone was missing their dog while on vacation? Who knows.  
After hours of skiing, the alcohol in the ski lodge was flowing. The laughter and happiness from every group was prevalent, everyone there was so obviously happy to get away from the real world. It’s what places like that were for. 
“That guy over there can’t stop looking at you,” jostled out of your thoughts by one of your friends, you followed her head inclination to one of the tables a few rows down, a familiar face looking back at you inquisitorially.  
It took you a second to place his face, the day in the coffee shop floating back to your mind prompting a small laugh to fall from your lips.  
“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull all over me when I ran into him in the coffee shop in Monaco, remember?” 
It had been a running joke, a typical meet-cute in a coffee shop, but instead of spilt coffee... a spilt Red Bull.  
“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull on you?” 
One of your friend’s boyfriends gaped at you, as he continuously maneuvered his look between you and the man in question. Nodding your head, he continued to gape at you. 
“Don’t you know who that is?” Giving him a look, you shook your head. 
“That’s the Max Verstappen. Three-time Formula 1 World Champion? Dutch God? Second-coming of the Formula 1 Jesus?” 
You recognized the name, having heard it at the few races you had attended, but you never would’ve been able to place the name to the face otherwise. 
A laugh erupted from one of the other members of the group, a shove directed at the other man. “I think you've got Verstappen mixed up with Lewis Hamilton.”  
“He’s kinda cute, huh?” One of the girls pointed out to you, a small giggle falling from her lips as she looked over towards the man in question, his eyes meeting yours as you looked in his direction again. 
His hair was flopped over, obviously a combination of a long day wearing a ski helmet and a hat, mixed with the combination of the sweat and heat that engulfed the inside of the lodge made him look even more attractive. Windswept, tipsy, and overall, just happy. 
“So much better than that last loser.” A mutual agreement of ‘yes’, ‘obviously’, and ‘fucking no wonder’, floated throughout your group at your friend’s words. 
Shrugging them off, you just laughed and pushed the conversation in another direction and away from the man sitting across the room, who seemed as if he couldn’t take his eyes off you at all. 
As the night started to dwindle down, you bid goodnight to the remaining group of friends and started your route back to your room. 
“At least I have nothing to spill on you tonight.” 
Directing your gaze to the voice at hand, your eyes made direct contact with the blue irises of Max Verstappen.  
Quirking an eyebrow at him as a small laugh left your lips, “I’m sure the bars fully stocked with drinks you could spill on me. You’re just not trying hard enough.” 
A loud guffaw fell from the man’s mouth, his hands instinctively covering his mouth as he laughed. You couldn’t help the heat that grew on your cheeks at his reaction, his smile directed towards you when he finally moved his hands from his face. 
“I’m so very sorry. Next time I run into you, I’ll try to make sure I have a full drink in hand to spill on you.” 
“Oh, you plan on running into me again?” 
Shrugging his shoulders with a small grin, the Dutchman just laughed. “Well, I ran into the person I spilt a Red Bull in a coffee shop on in one of my favourite places in Switzerland, I’m sure I’m bound to run into you again. Things happen in three’s, don’t they?” 
Max ran a hand through his hair as he smiled at you, before either of you could get the chance to say anything else, one of his friends was clapping a hand against his shoulder with a boisterous laugh. 
“Time to get out of here, mate. Say goodnight to the pretty girl,” he said. 
You felt your cheeks heating again, as Max smiled at you in farewell, a small wave from both of you any indication of goodbye as you both walked away. 
Time, mystical time  Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine  Were there clues I didn't see? 
F1 race weekends were as fun as they were busy. Any race you had attended since you were an intern was always focused primarily on working. Getting the opportunity to attend a race with your friends, in Melbourne, without having to worry about work or advertising, or anything else, was obviously the best way to spend it. 
Lou, one of your friends linked her arm with yours as she basically skipped through the hospitality area, pointing out the different garages as she got a glimpse of them. Her boyfriend, Nick, had gotten both of you passes through his own work, a long-term employee of McLaren meant that the both of you had been spoiled for the weekend. 
"Maybe you’ll end up running into Max again, imagine? A third little meet-cute,” she said, with a giggle.  
Rolling your eyes at her, you just laughed as she grinned back. “Don’t roll your eyes at me! It’s totally possible, I’m sure Nick could totally convince Lando to convince Max to pass by the garage or the hospitality. We could totally orchestrate it.” 
“Babe, it’s pure coincidence I’ve run into the guy more than once. I’m not like... going out of my way to run into Max Verstappen.” 
Huffing back at you, Lou sent a mock pout in your direction as she continued to drag you through the hospitality center. Passing a stand full of travel cups of coffee, you were eager to grab one as you walked by. 
Before you could even press the lid of the cup to your lips, you were interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice, yet again.  
“Is it your turn to spill something on me, then? I’m having a pretty bad day, and I don’t know if I can handle that.” 
Both you and Lou whipped around to the sound of the man’s voice, the man who just a short time ago had been forced to retire his race due to a faulty and on fire brake. You could practically feel Lou humming with excitement as she looked between you and Max. 
Shoving her hand out in his direction, Lou introduced herself to Max who did the same back. 
“With that, I’m going to see how everything’s going in the garage. Call me if you get lost, yeah?” Without giving you the chance to argue, she bolted away.  
Silently groaning, you looked back towards Max. For someone who just retired from a race he was probably going to win, he seemed relatively calm and relaxed. 
“So, are you?” 
“Am I what?” You questioned back, confused. 
“Are you going to spill your coffee on me, in retaliation for the Red Bull?” Instantly shaking your head, obviously the retirement from the race couldn’t have affected him too negatively, if he was already cracking jokes in your direction. 
“You don’t even know my name, and you’re accusing me of wanting to go out of my way to kick a man when he’s already down?” 
Watching his face fall, you could tell he was about to defend his words. A smile began to cross your face, his eyes jokingly narrowing in your direction. 
Sticking your hand out towards him, you finally introduced yourself, your name falling from his lips as if it was a beautiful word from a testament as he took your hand. It would be embarrassing to say a small spark shot up your arm, but the racing driver had inevitably shocked you, an apology dropping from his lips almost immediately. 
“Terrible race to stalk me at, though. You couldn’t have at least made it a race that I actually stood a chance at winning? Pretty embarrassing to have to retire for such a stupid reason, in front of such a pretty girl.”  
If there was one thing other than racing that Max was good at, it was making your cheeks warm and the butterflies in your stomach spike.  
“Well... I am here as a guest of McLaren... maybe I was just really hoping for a Piastri win. Gotta root for the hometown boy, right?” 
Shaking his head, Max mockingly pressed his hand to his chest and looked at you like he was internally wounded. 
“You’d support McLaren over me? The man who runs into you in the weirdest of places? Who gave you a free Red Bull without a can?” he said. 
You could barely help the small snort that fell from your lips at his words, your hand instantly slapping against your lips in horror. Max openly laughed at your reaction, arm gently hitting your shoulder with a grin. 
“Just for that, I’ll support Ferrari before I support you and your Red Bull’s. I don’t think Charles Leclerc would spill a Red Bull on me.” 
In response, Max grinned and pointed in the direction of the Ferrari garage, the red and yellow prominent amongst the stone. “Shall I go introduce you to Charles, then? He’d probably spill an actual hot coffee on you, at least I didn’t leave any lasting damage.” 
“The trauma of smelling like an original Red Bull for more than 2 hours isn’t enough damage?” you questioned, your eyebrows quirking up at him. 
Max looked at you in horror, “You can’t possibly be saying you don’t think the smell of an original, cold, fresh out of a fridge, Red Bull isn’t just simply lovely. This is potentially the biggest red flag about you.” 
You were quick on your feet, the words dropping from your lips before you could contain them. 
“I guess we’re all on fire today, then. Red flags left and right.” you said with a smirk. 
All Max did was laugh at your words, his head rolling back while his hands placed themselves on his hips.  
Just as he had been the last two times, Max was interrupted before he could continue the conversation, a lady in a Red Bull sweater tapping him on the shoulder to let him know he needed to make his way back to the garage for some interviews that had been requested of him.  
“Nice seeing you again, I’m sure next time I see you, you’ll probably heal more of my Red Bull soaked shirt trauma.”  
The only response he gave was a loud laugh and a wave, as he walked away. 
Time, wondrous time  Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies 
The FIA year-end Gala was exquisite. Everyone was dressed to the nines, the lights were twinking, the service was lovely, and the atmopshere was electric. 
Even though, for almost all of the people there, it was a requirement of their jobs, everyone seemed as if they were having a wonderful time. Mingling with those around them, actively engaging in conversation with co-workers, friends, long-time acquaintances.  
Your boss had elected that you and a fellow co-worker attend in her place, admitting that although she loved the excitement of the night, she needed a break from the glitz and the glam of Formula 1 for a tiny bit. She knew you were more than willing to take her place and do an incredible job.  
Which is exactly how you found yourself at a table with Jack, one of your co-workers, a wide grin on his face as he observed everything going on around him. He was new to the company, just having recently completed his internship and been offered a full-time position with the organization. It was his first time at a Formula 1 event of any kind. 
“Isn’t this brilliant? I’m a huge motorsports fan, I wanted to get into karting when I was a kid but it was just too expensive, my parents couldn’t afford that. I’ve never even had the opportunity to go to a race, and now I’m in the same building, the same room as literal race drivers. Have you been to a race before?” 
You forgot how much he could yap, an almost over-eager human equivalent of an excited golden retriever. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer to his question. 
“I’ve been to a few races for work, and a few privately with some friends. They’re always a great time, you’ll have lots of fun when you start going for work.” you said. 
Grinning at your words, you began to tune him out as he launched into another rant. You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of someone saying your name, your head swiveling in the direction of the voice. 
You were almost positive Jack was squealing out loud, as Max Verstappen once again entered your view. Smiling up at him, you stood up to greet the Dutchman, which resulted in him pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, his hand gently patting you on the back as he did so. 
“I just wanted to come by and say hello. You look very beautiful.”  
Unable to contain the anxious laugh that fell from your lips, you immediately smiled at him. Accepting compliments was obviously not your forte, especially when they were coming from Max, who looked more handsome than ever in his suit, and the wide smile on his cheeks pulling everything together. 
“Never thought I’d see you in anything other than jeans and a Red Bull shirt, Max. You look lovely, as well.” 
“Making fun of me, and a compliment all in one? I will say, I probably would’ve worn jeans if I could, but my public relations manager likely would’ve murdered me and I quite enjoy being alive,” he said. 
Shaking your head in silent laughter, you barely even noticed as Jack thrust his hand out to introduce himself to Max.  
“Your girlfriend is lovely, mate. This is what, the fourth time I’ve run into you?” Max said in greeting, a somewhat tight smile on his face. 
Jack instantly shook his head, “Oh god no, we’re co-workers. I don’t mean she’s not lovely, she is. I’m not her type, or actually she’s not my type. I’m yapping, this is embarrassing. Mr. Verstappen, it was really nice to meet you. I need a drink. I’m sorry.” 
He practically sprinted away, both you and Max looked on with amused grins present on your faces. 
“So, if he’s not your boyfriend, does that mean one of the guys you were with in Switzerland are?” 
Shaking your head, “God, no. Those are friends I’ve known for years. I’m very much single, right now.” 
Max looked like he was in complete contemplation as he debated what to say next. You were secretly hoping he would take the bait, maybe ask if you were free after the gala, or ask how long you were going to be in town for. 
Running into him again once was by chance, twice was a coincidence, and thrice was obviously a sign. The universe was obviously trying to tell you something, there was a reason this man, who had first shown up in your life just after one of the worst heartbreaks you had ever experienced, continued to show up. It was hard to not get your hopes up, to not get ahead of yourself. 
It was hard to keep the butterflies at bay, truthfully.  
“Hypothetically, does that mean you’re free after the gala?” 
“Hypothetically... I man be free after the gala,” you responded. 
Nodding his head, Max smiled in your direction. “I think it would be a crime to let this beautiful dress, and my efforts to wear a suit for something go to waste. I’d love to take you out after.” 
And isn't it just so pretty to think  All along there was some  Invisible string  Tying you to me? 
Max had been transparent from the beginning; he wasn’t overly affection nor was he a fan of excessive cuddling. He got warm often, and the moment he got too warm when he was in bed, he got miserable. But when he wanted to cuddle? You had to take what he would give you.  
Which was exactly how you found yourselves right now, Max playfully attempting to whack your phone out of your hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist as he burrowed his head into your neck. 
“Schatje, I just wanna cuddle for a bit. Give me a little attention.” 
Slapping gently at his arm, you looked at him in mock exasperation. All you ever did was give him attention, he almost took the words out of your mouth when he muttered, “I know you give me plenty of attention, don’t yell at me.” 
You just shook your head silently as you used your free hand to gently twirl small tuffs of his hair, a small hum of content falling from his lips at your movements. 
“What are you looking at?”  
Attempting to look over at your phone, you moved the screen so he could see it better. It was a video from your first ever Formula 1 race, back when you were still a little intern and your boss had wanted you to gain some exposure to the sport. 
“I’m just looking back at some videos. Found this one from my first ever race. I didn’t even know I still had this.” 
Max instantly perked up and looked at your phone, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher something in the video. 
“Do you remember which race it was? Looks like it’s a few years old, yeah?”  
Nodding your head, you tried to do the math in your head, thinking back to what year you first started your internship. “I think it was 2016? It was definitely in Spain, but I’m pretty positive it was 2016.” 
“Do you know what that means?” Max questioned, a soft smile on his lips as he pressed a small kiss to the junction between your chin and throat before looking back up at you. 
Shaking your head in confusion, you tried to determine what he could be talking about, giving him the chance to continue.  
“My first ever win in Formula 1, for Red Bull, was the 2016 Spanish Grand Prix. Isn’t that so ironic? Guess things were always meant to be.” 
Maybe he was right. 
Maybe there was always a string, a small, invisible string, tying everything together, tying you to him.  
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genuinely i got this into my mind and felt like i was legally obligated to write it asap. i hope you LOVE it and i would so appreciate it if you told me if you do. thank you, love you all 🫶���
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cry4mina · 6 months ago
Text
Lascivious
(BackTattoo!Sana x Fem!Reader)
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Word Count: 4.9k
Smut
Summary: You unintentionally walk in on Sana, completely naked, and see a large tattoo you never noticed before. You're admiring the artwork but she has her eyes on something else.
TW: this is literally just fucking. If that’s not something you want to read, please don’t! Slapping, teasing, biting, fighting for who is on top, Sana has a dragon back tattoo, overstimulation, choking...uh degradation maybe? Let me know if I missed anything
A/N: Thank you @neoplatinum for letting me write a story *cough porn cough* about back tattoo Sana and to @nr1chaedickrider for scheming hehehe. And thank you to @tttwiceeluvrr for the request that I thieved from Neo! @myouicieloz for helping me spark the idea for the same cuz i was STRUGGLING lmaoo Please enjoy what my Sana brain rot produce and thank you for reading<3
Music bumps through the house, vibrating the walls and rattling the framing of the pictures scattered.The high hats ringing off the ceilings, bass reverberating through the floor. Sana knew you were coming. You made plans to go out to eat that day at 1:30pm after schedules, she couldn’t have forgotten right?
Letting yourself in, you walked through the halls to the source of the loudness, finding the master bedroom cracked with about an inch of space between the door and threshold. Yelling her name was useless, music blanketing any sound that could’ve been made in a 20 foot proximity.
Pushing the door open curiously, you take your first few steps into the room when her shadow comes into your view, stopping you dead in your tracks.
Sana was in her walk-in closet, completely nude, facing her clothes and attempting to pick out an outfit. The curvature of her was enough to send you into a panic, perfectly smooth skin draped over a frame even Gods were jealous of. Muscles noticeably flexing as she slid a shirt across the rod bolted into the wall.
Seeing her bare like this wasn’t the only thing that surprised you.
An entire back piece, a dragon in Japanese traditional style, lay across her, fitting that perfect frame in a way that was almost natural. Like she was born with it. Getting lost in the intricacies of the details, beautifully designed with near perfect line work ascending her spine.
Head of the dragon on her shoulder, body of scales intertwining down her back over part of her ribs, claws on her hips and tailed stretched down her butt and ending at the top of her thigh. Cherry blossom petals balancing the negative space throughout the piece, shading perfectly balanced and clear. This was a work of art.
You are suddenly hyper aware of everything around you. The loudness of the music, the softness of the carpet, the way your heartbeat picks up its pace, arguing with the bass in the music, and how your lungs are struggling to function properly. Your underwear is in the beginning stages of being ruined, unable to help yourself imagining her looking down at you between her legs.
Mind completely mesmerized and your body moving without your permission, you step into the closet to get a closer look at the artwork on the masterpiece that was Minatozaki Sana.
Your hands lift and lightly start tracing the line of the dragon’s head on her shoulder, startling her. Her back muscle tensed underneath your touch, before she whipped around to see you absolutely enchanted by her naked body along with the ink laid into her skin.
Attempting to keep eye contact and not look down at her chest, already feeling horrible about invading this much of her privacy to begin with but your pussy was soaking at the thought of making her cum.
There’s a glimmer of something present behind her eyes, a slight smirk slithers across her face when she sees how red you are. Your brain immediately releasing cortisol into your veins causing your blood to run cold in panic.
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve knocked.” abruptly shouted over the speaker system before attempting to get out of that room. Absolutely embarrassed that you didn’t just turn around and leave in the first place.
Speeding to the door, the music was halting mid song and you hear “I’ll be ready in a minute!” before you close the door behind you and almost sprint to the living room. Thinking about just leaving entirely when your phone vibrates twice in your pocket. A text from Sana.
Sana: You better not leave! We have lunch plans.
You: Fine.
Sana: :)
How could she just know you were going to try and escape the situation? More importantly, how could you not just stop yourself from approaching her? What an invasion of space.
Hands reach to cover your face in shame when you hear Sana’s crisp giggle emerge from the hall that connects the living room to the rest of the house. A long heavy sigh leaves your chest, raising your head to face her.
She’s wearing a short sleeve cropped shirt that’s nearly see through, a black sports bra underneath, black cargo pants that are a little too big for her, and some white sneakers. Giving a little spin to show her outfit, but all you can focus on is the bold lines that shows through her shirt and exposed on her lower back.
You swallow roughly, standing up and attempting to explain yourself and apologize.
“I am so sorry, Sana. I do not know what came over me, I should’ve knocked or texted you or something instead of just walking right into your space and then not leaving immediately when I saw you were…unclothed” not wanting to bring attention to the fact that she was naked. So uncomfortable with the idea of violating a good friend's boundaries that you could barely even make eye contact with her.
Sana is smiling at you in an endearing way, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to force you to look her directly in the eye.
“Y/n…it’s completely okay. It was only a matter of time, okay?”
Only a matter of time?!
“What do you mean by that?” regrettably leaving your mouth before you could even question the thought.
“Maybe I’ll show you after lunch.” winking and grabbing her keys before ushering you out the front door, giving no time to question what she had just been spoken so nonchalantly.
Pushing you playfully to the car, opening the passenger side door, and motioning for you to get in. Baffled by what is happening currently, you can’t imagine why she would say what she did…unless?
Unless she actually meant it…peering over to her, watching her carefully put the key into the ignition, pull the car out of park and speed off down the road.
“We are going to go to that Italian place down the road, I’m feeling like pasta today! Is that okay?” still peeking at her, you forget to respond entirely. Distracted by the sentence that plays back in your head over and over and over again, causing a slight ache between your legs.
“Y/n? Are you there?” reaching over to lay her hand on your upper thigh, lightly tapping to try and get you to pay attention to what she was saying. The tap causes you to clench your thighs together, holding your breath as a devious smile appears on sana’s face.
“Too distracted? What’s on your mind?” knowing full well she already knew the answer to what was occupying your thoughts.
Flashes of those details on the cherry blossom petals and the dragon's teeth cascade through your mind, you know what? Fuck it.
Finally exhaling and beginning to breathe regularly again, you shift back in your seat and mutter “I saw you naked once and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
A little surprised by your boldness, that was not the version of you she was familiar with, sunglasses slid to the end of her nose as she raised her eyebrows at you.
“Let’s discuss over lunch, hm? I’m interested in the thoughts you’re having.” sultry tone coating you in absolute need for her.
“Maybe I’ll show you after lunch?” oh my god, why did you say that?
A snide chuckle knocks on the windows of the sedan as she pulls up to the restaurant.
“Playing my own game against me?” sultry tone still present with half lidded eyes, leaning over the center console to get closer to your face.
“How am I doing?” leaning towards her, almost mocking her movements, even playfully, she takes it as a challenge.
Smirk, a hum, and a tongue in cheek as she picks up her phone and makes a call. You’re confused until she speaks.
“Hello, I would like to play a to go order please.”
She’s calling the restaurant you were parked out in front of...I guess we will be dining in today.
Food in hand, you walk back into the house you left about 20 minutes ago, Sana throwing her bag and keys on the counter as you place the food down. Having no moments to register what’s about to happen, she places her hands on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.
“What were you going to show me?” lowly reveals itself from her throat, inching closer to your face, somewhat teasing you and attempting to ignite the tension that had been building since you were caught admiring her shamelessly.
Sana’s hands travel up your sides under your shirt, you’re stoic in all of this. Waiting for the opportunity to show her exactly what you meant as she continues you softly run her nails down your ribcage.
Goosebumps pepper your skin as you throw your arm around her waist to hold her tightly against you. Skin warm on yours while your forearm locks her into place, bringing your face so close to hers, mouths almost touching, her lips chasing yours in an act of desperation.
“Tell me what you want,” whispered into her mouth, eye contact all consuming, completely converting your mind from slightly nervous to absolutely lust drive.
Sana watches how you change, the shift in dynamic between the two of you tenses the air even further. Though she was the instigator, she was no longer in control and she knew that.
“I think you know what I want.” lips moving closer to yours before you pull back again, making her a little annoyed that you keep making her work for it.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Satang.” a warning disguised as playful banter. Neither of you had ever experienced each other in this way before, even if it felt natural to hold Sana so close to you.
Chuckling at your statement, she’s having a hard time taking you seriously. The friend version of you sits in her mind's eye. Always so sweet and caring, she assumed that carried over into the bedroom too.
“Oh, are you a top? Well you’ll have to fight me for that. I’ve waited too long for this…I’m not going to give up control so easily.” big brown eyes blinking at you, almost challenging you, pushing you a little farther off the edge.
“Safe word?” coldly uttered as your pointer finger trails up her stomach to the neck of her shirt.
“Do we need one?” head cocked to the side. She truly has no clue what’s about to come.
“Hmm…let’s go with colors instead. Stoplight style.” smirking at you, eyes full of lust and curiosity waiting for you to make your move.
“Deal.” Hand maneuvering from the neck of her shirt to her actual neck, the soft sweet human she knew was no longer present in this. Almost predatory in your movements as you lightly pulled her to her bedroom.
“You’re going to listen to every word I say, understand?” ice shards spewing around your words before throwing her onto her bed.
She looks confused by this, never expecting the sweet anxious Y/n to be so…dominant. It tastes like a daydream she’s had continuously since she’s met you.
“And if I don't? What happens then?” curiously inquiring about your plans, testing the waters to see if being a brat was something you wanted.
Glaring down at her, ignoring the question, you simply had one instruction for her.
“Strip.”
Sana hesitates, another push, intrigued by the demeanor you’ve presented to her. It’s just so unexpected, you’re usually so docile and reserved about sexual things. This is what she dreamed of most nights, unable to grasp that it was coming true before her eyes.
“Now.” taking a seat in the chair in the corner to watch the show you insisted she put on.
Sana stands up, sauntering over to you while grabbing the hem of her shirt and peeling it from her body. She slowly turns around, removing her sports bra in the process, dragon tattoo on full display, making sure to slowly slide her pants and underwear down to her ankles before kicking them to the side.
Refusing to pull your eyes from her body as you take in the ink and curves. Her skin is silky smooth, a perfect ass you just wanted to take a bite out of, and not a single mark on her to tell the world who she now belonged to.
“Turn around.” rotating to face you, she takes a few steps forward and leans down, placing her hands on the arms of the chair and invading your space again.
“Demanding, aren’t we? Especially since you were the one who came into my room unannounced” standing up straight and walking over to the bed. Her ass on the edge leaning back on her hands, legs spread apart in front of you. She is leaving nothing to the imagination.
Jaw tensing at the new view you had, practically ripping your shirt off before leaning back into the chair again. Unable to keep your eyes off of hers as she continued on in that low tone that nearly made you rabid.
“Were you expecting to see me like this? Sprawled out on the bed for you? I’ve thought about inviting you over, just to give you a show like this.” one hand raises up and you know exactly where it’s headed.
“Stop.” eye contact maintained as she halts in her tracks, surprised you said anything.
You stand and walk over to her, removing your bra and pants along the way.
“Don’t touch what’s mine.” growled at her before roughly cupping her face and bombarding her with a fiery kiss, tongues intertwining, her hands wandering up to you as she tries to flip you onto your back.
Grabbing her hands, locking your fingers in hers, and pinning her to the mattress. She lightly whimpers into your mouth causing your knees to buckle. Feeling her lips curve up before she uses a leg to literally sweep you off your feet. Your knees hitting the ground roughly, causing you to wince, squeezing her hands tightly and pulling her forward with you.
“How can you expect to be the dominant one from the floor? I thought you were actually going to put me in my place…such a shame.” glowering at you from above.
“You wanted a fight didn’t you?” jumping to your feet, pushing her onto her back, rolling her over harshly, inciting a giggle of excitement out of her.
Cocking your arm back, you smack her ass roughly, watching her flesh ripple underneath your touch, only to lay another immediately after. Hearing her suck air through her teeth as you lay another handprint to the canvas.
“Color?” cuts through the sound of Sana panting, admiring the red welts left behind and watching a string of slick drip from her.
“Green…so so green” between breaths.
Expressing amusement at her enthusiasm with a dark chuckle, you apply one more solid smack to her before placing a kiss at the bottom of her spine, confusingly soft in your touches and light pecks up her spine, over the line beautiful line work, across every cherry blossom petal and up to her neck.
Sana breathing heavily underneath you with your tits pressed firmly against her back to hold her in place to avoid her squirming, you take a second to appreciate the position you found yourself in, and how absolutely drenched you were for her.
Your right hand follows the curvature of her hips wrapping around her and sliding down between her legs. She groans before you even touch her.
“Awhh, baby’s all worked up, hm? How long have you been dreaming about what I would feel like between your legs?” dragging your middle finger lightly over her dripping cunt to gather a little wetness before coasting over her clit a few times, just to rile her up a little more.
The bed muffling her whines, you grab a hand full of her hair and pull it towards you, forcing her head back to allow the honeyed moans to drench the room in their sickly sweet stickiness.
Sounds reverberating through her body, causing a reaction in yours, solidifying the ruination of your underwear. Sana’s hips start rocking back and forth in the rhythm of you set with your hand so you still your movements and let her fuck herself on your hand.
“Awh, look how desperate you are for me. Grinding into my hand to feel something? How pitiful. You might as well beg.”
Sana squeals in frustration, grinding down into you harder as you watch her pathetically try to earn some sense of pleasure, tail of the tattoo snapping with her subtle movements. It’s like watching a scene unfold.
Removing your hand suddenly brings her even more anger, rolling over, forcing you onto your back with the movement and quickly finding her seat on your abdomen, slick warm against your skin. Your breath hitching silently so she can’t see how weak she has you.
“Why can’t you just fuck me like I want you too? Have to make it about teasing me?! I obviously fucking want you so why won’t you just take what’s yours?” almost maliciously spat at you, her hands dragging down your chest and brushing over your nipples. You're clenching around nothing as Sana touches your body, trying to tease you back.
You’ve had enough of her trying to be the dominant one, even if it’s only for a second. You sit up, halfway getting in her face, foreheads pressed together and noses brushing, her arms instinctively wrap around your neck.
“I don’t need you to tell me what to do…color?” Wrestling her onto her back again before she has more time to protest.
“Green,” moaned back to you, her eyes half-lidded, screaming fuck me through the tension. Lowly growling as you press your lips together, urgently trying to absorb as much of her as possible.
Making your way to her neck, you bite down viscously. She moans your name into your skin as you refuse to let go of her. You’re practically dripping onto her as she rakes her nails cruelly down your back, causing you to whimper into her.
“Fuck baby, I need you.” hoarsely stated, shaky hands tug at your waistband, trying to pull them off, moving . You’re inclined to help her remove them from your frame, finally unlatching from her neck and giving her just enough leverage to slide them off you.
“Let me feel you, baby. I’ve waited so long- need to feel you.” running her hands up your thighs, grazing over your slick covered skin until she reaches your core. Her finger glides past your clit a couple times causing you to almost get carried away grinding into her, before you snatch her hand away from you.
“Who’s the desperate one now?” Spat at you as your slick drips down her fingers slowly.
“It’s still you.” guiding her hand down to her own pussy, letting her smear your cum onto her. A loud wail leaves her mouth, feeling the warmth from your wetness against her, unable to stop herself from shoving her fingers inside.
Grabbing her cheeks, forcing her lips to pucker and making eye contact, you utter one single word that halts her in her tracks. “No.”
You remove her hand for her knowing she wasn’t going to do it herself. Whimpering at the lack of something inside of her, she’s reduced to just a begging mess for you. Your little whiney play thing.
“Pleaseeee, I’ve been so good.” rocking her hips, the attempt to feel something overpowers her need to be the little brat she was attempting to portray.
Smirking at her, you lean in to kiss her again. She’s melting into you, exactly where you want her to be. So desperate for you. Your hand wraps around her throat again, squeezing lightly before your fingers descend her torso, scratching along the way, and stopping right above her slit.
“Begging looks good on you. Are you sure you’re needy enough? Maybe I’ll make you wait all day…maybe I’ll make you wait all week, actually. I think you look too good like this…” sharply spat into her mouth as her brows furrow. The whiny little whore beneath you squirming, writhing for your touch, bucking her hips up.
“Maybe it’s because you can’t make me cum.” the whiney tone contradicts the words hissed, neediness has taken over and now she’s just trying to make you fuck her.
A smack on her cunt, followed by a loud shriek fills the room, her juices coating your hand and splatter against her thighs and yours.
“Try again” straight faced, despite how badly you want her, how badly you crave the way she tastes. She doesn’t need to know how close you are to fully devouring her.
“Unghh…fuck, please y/n. Please fuck me! I’m so fucking desperate for you. Want to cum for you. Fuck please please please.” tears brimming at how badly Sana aches for you. The knot building in your stomach pulls at all your senses, this was just as bad for you as it was for her.
“So pathetic…color?” gripping her hips tightly before getting on your knees, pulling her forward just a little bit and resting her legs on your shoulders.
“Gre-eeen…oh, shit.” stuttered as the warmth of your breath radiates up her thighs
The sounds she's making could make anyone weak for her. Yelping and arching her back, rutting her hips forward for more contact, the lustful whimpers begging you to use her in a way that you never thought you would.
“Look at me.”demanded before laying a long, slow, tantalizing lick from her entrance to her clit that has her unable to keep still, she’s absolutely rabid.
“More, please…fuc- I’ll do anything, just please…” almost weeping, running her fingers through your hair, gripping tightly and attempting to pull you closer to where she needed you the most. Putting your tongue out in preparation; you knew she was going to try to do this.
Allowing her to use your face for mere seconds, you force her hips down onto the mattress and give her another slow long lick. Taking back the control you allowed her to have and driving her insane all in one swift motion.
Hair completely all over the place, face red, and half lidded watery eyes look down at you, a single tear, reflecting your diligence in working her up, sluggishly plummets down her features before hitting the bedding with a thick thwap.
You mewl into her, securing your lips around her clit before running your tongue over it incessantly. She’s already close, body tensing under you, unable to keep still as you overstimulate her. You spent all this time working her up just for this moment where she would absolutely crumble for you.
“Fuck fuck fuck” followed by another string of unintelligible sounds solicited from her mouth. Immediately adding 2 fingers into her with no intention of taking it easy on her, immediately pumping at full speed just to watch her fall apart for you.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Screamed out into the negative space of the room as Sana came around your fingers. Her silky smooth thighs tighten around your head, one hand grasping at sheets the other tugging your hair as you keep lapping at her aggressively.
“Fuck…wait wait…I’m gonna- oh my god” already hitting another stride of pleasure.
Pressing up into her roughly, the sound of her pussy crying for you makes you want to shatter her. Sucking, licking, and sliding a third finger into her, Sana falls apart around you again. Shaking violently as you hold her down against the sheets, tears running down her face as a flash of heat dances across her entire body in pure ecstasy.
Breathing heavily and sitting up, she grabs a fist full of your hair with one hand and leans back onto the other. Bucking her hips into your tongue wildly, panting and moaning loudly without a single care in the world.
Firmly holding your head in place, smearing her cum along your tongue and lips, completely lost in pleasure as she fucks your face in an attempt to push herself over the edge another time.
Letting her have her moment, you left your tongue out for her to use. Slurping every drop of her as she rides your mouth. Her pants are getting faster, body tensing again, moans being cut off by curses. She’s completely lost in her own pleasure when she finally manages to formulate a short and simple sentence..
“Good girl”
Ripping her off of you before she can fully finish using you. The frustration behind her eyes seers into you like a brand, eyes carving into your skin as you start sifting through nightstand drawers.
“Where is it?” almost shouted at her, trying to quickly locate the last thing you needed to prove the point that you were in charge. She knows exactly what you’re looking for, huffing over your question and pointing to the bottom drawer of the dresser across the room.
Quickly stepping over and finding it, the 8 inch strap heavy as you fix it around your hips, balance feeling almost off as you bring your attention back to Sana who is still rocking her hips and whimpering. Just where you want her.
“Flip over…color?” You’re practically leaking down your thighs and she fixes herself, ass up for you. Her back arched, face in the mattress and massive tattoo on full display as she taunts you by wiggling her ass against you.
“Fucking green…Fuck me, please! Need you inside so so so bad.” desperation weighs heavy in her voice and only grows worse as you grind the strap against her clit, teasing her even further. How far could you push her?
Smacking her sensitive little clit with the silicone a few times, building it up even further than you needed, just to see how she would react.
The sounds coming out of her are so pitiful, whining incoherently for you.
“You want it, Hm?” teasing the tip at the entrance before running it over her slit one last time. Pressing the head into her entrance, only the head.
“I’d bet you’ve dreamed about this moment.” removing the tip to watch her clench before gliding it back in painfully slow. Sana is just nodding her head and making sounds that could only be described as painfully needy.
“Dreamed about what it would be like for me to slam into you?” rapidly bottoming out into her, touching her cervix and staying in place.
“Does the little slut want to cockwarm my strap while I mark all over this tattoo? Let the world know who you belong to? Hm?” brutally sinking your teeth into the line work of the dragon that graced her back.
Reeling your hips back slowly, torturously staying with half the tip in, waiting to re-sheath it and leaving it buried inside of Minatozaki Sana. Just where it belonged, inside your perfect little toy and she couldn’t be any more feral for it. Trying to push back into you to feel something, even if it was just to feel full.
Finding a place on the other shoulder to bite down on, railing into her again. Creating a slow building rhythm that harmonizes with the symphony ejecting from Sana’s perfect lips. Like a crescendo building higher and higher as you slam into, getting faster in every thrust.
A scream, the snap of a knot, another belligerent bite down, and a continuous pace that wasn’t going to stop until she was unable to hold herself up, creating a whirlwind of heat and passion. Dragon tattoo on her waving into the waves the both of you created, Sana slamming back into you with your hands on her hip, pulling down and creating leverage for yourself.
It didn’t take long for her legs to give out, fully spasming into the bedding, gasping for air when you finally let go of the flesh on her back, tasting a mixture of her and iron on your tongue, licking the wound before laying sweet kisses on her back and neck.
Carefully removing the strap from her, she moans at the loss of what filled her. You watch her muscles contract and laugh to yourself as you remove the leather off your hips and crawl up next to her.
Sana’s still laying stomach down horizontally across the bed, breathing heavily with her eyes closed. Tapping her shoulder, you lift an arm and offer for her to cozy up with you and she is happy to take it.
Arms and legs wrapped around each other, dragging the tips of your fingers over the bite marks and ink, you can’t help but ponder when she got the tattoo.
“Can I ask you something?” whispered to her, not willing to remove any comfort that she currently had from her grasp.
“Mhm.” hummed back at you in pure exhaustion, you can feel her body relaxing onto yours- she’s about to fall asleep.
‘Why did you go for a back tattoo? Out of all the tattoos I thought you could get, a very large dragon was not on my list.” chuckling as you spoke, watching the coy smile form on her face through a sleep filled haze.
“I wanted to give you something to look at.”
939 notes · View notes
purple-babygirl · 8 months ago
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welcome baaaack! i missed you so much
i've been here since forever and i remember a very long time ago that you promised us insecure chubby bucky. i never forget and i'm still waiting for him (when you get time for sure). i would love to read that whenever you right it! otherwise i'm really happy you're back again.
much love purple<3
Pairing: Insecure!Chubby!Chef!Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Word Count: 4,180
Summary: Bucky runs into his ex, who manages to mess with his head, bringing his insecurities to the surface again. His girl takes it upon herself to show him how perfect he is.
Warnings: 18+ content, bullying (sort of), fat shaming, negative self body image, insecurities, intrusive thoughts, mentions of cheating, a little crying, a little angst, smut, unprotected vaginal sex, cum, multiple orgasms
A/N: Nonnie, omg, you have been here a long time! I love and appreciate you so so much and I can't believe you stuck around for so long wow:"💜💜 Thank you so much for existing and for being here you're the reason I don't wanna leave again💜💜💜 Here's one insecure chubby bucky for you, I hope you like this one and that I did a good job💜 Thank you again ilyyy, please enjoyxx💜💜(y'all i think i forgot how to write smut what is wrong with me)
~
perfect to me
“I’m so sorry, baby, I have to run,” she told him after checking her phone, pecking his lips and taking quick steps down the aisle of the large store.
Bucky smiled, taking another fruit plate and placing it in their cart. His girl was such a hard worker and he couldn’t be prouder.
It was going to be Christmas soon and his girl was still working hard so Bucky was going to make her the best holiday food she’s ever tasted.
He was focused on picking the freshest cranberries when he heard a scoff, a very familiar one.
“Hey, Ryan,” Bucky sighed, not really wanting to ruin his good mood, as he turned around to meet a face he knew too well.
“What does she owe you?” said Ryan, tilting his head with a smirk.
“What?!”
“There’s no way this chick is seeing you. I figured she must owe you and is just paying her debt!” He smirked further, not even trying to hide his gloating when he saw that his words still had an effect on Bucky.
“My relationship with her is none of your business.” Bucky’s voice was suddenly low as his eyes stared down at the contents of the cart.
“But my relationship with you is.” Ryan put a finger under Bucky’s chin but the latter took a step away.
“We don’t have a relationship. You cheated on me, remember? I was too fat for you.” Bucky’s shaky voice moved nothing inside Ryan. If anything Ryan wanted more.
“And now you’re too fat for her.”
“Shut up. She is nothing like you.”
“Really? Do you even know where she goes when she leaves you? Where she is right now, for example?” Ryan smirked.
“She got called into work and had to run to the office.” Bucky knew he owed him nothing and if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t have went through a conversation with Ryan at all, but he wasn’t.
“How are you still so naïve?” He laughed heartily as if Bucky’s misery was actually amusing to him.
“Leave me alone.” Bucky tried to push the shopping cart and walk away, but Ryan stepped before him.
“I didn’t know your publisher lived in an office.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She leaves you to go fuck your publisher. You know him, black guy, sexily built, very handsome.”
The words left Bucky feeling lightheaded as the world seemed to twirl around him. Could history be repeating itself? No, not this time. His girl was not like that.
“I saw her coming to his building with him.”
“How’d you even-”
“I wait tables in the restaurant across the street from his apartment. I didn’t know she was with you but damn are you lucky you met me today!” Ryan laughed insensitively.
“It’s probably someone else.”
“I think I know what your publisher looks like.”
“You’re lying,” Bucky chocked out, trying to get out of Ryan’s way.
“You don’t sound so sure about that.” Ryan tilted his head again with a smug smirk, poking Bucky’s tummy, “you know why? Because deep down you know she’s too sexy for you. Because you look at her and then at yourself and you can’t figure out why she’d want you. Because you know that sooner or later she’s gonna get tired of your fat ass and—”
“My life now is none of your business, Ryan. You left. You chose to go, so stay gone.” Bucky’s weak voice interrupted, shutting Ryan right up before he sped out of the store, leaving the groceries behind.
“You’ll come back to me when you see for yourself!” He shouted after Bucky, but he didn’t stop nor turn back.
The questions he had raised in Bucky’s head, Bucky had no answers for them himself. Why was this sweet girl with him? What did she see in him? Anyone who met them thought the same thing: they didn’t belong together. So what did she see differently? What was Bucky bringing to their relationship? Could he even satisfy her? Could he keep her fulfilled?
He thought the days where Ryan messed with his head were long gone but he was obviously mistaken. Ryan could still easily hurt him. He could still make him feel as large as an elephant yet smaller than an insect. The dagger he’d planted was in so deep that Bucky couldn’t feel anything but the pain the stab brought.
~
His ex’s words plagued his mind. They took over and drowned out his girl’s voice, pushing it to the background.
All of a sudden, Bucky was very aware of his size, of the way the couch made the slightest sounds under his weight, and the way his girl could fit her whole self on one of his thighs if she wanted to.
“Bucky bear?” A hand on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts.
Suddenly, he hated the words she nicknamed him with. Bear? Is that how big she thought he was?
“Hmm?”
“I was asking if you wanna go shopping for last minute gifts with me tomorrow,” she repeated, smiling sweetly, her fingers brushing a few hairs back and behind Bucky’s ear as she yawned.
Bucky’s new cookbook became a best seller after one week of release and the publication house was throwing the amazing chef a party.
She couldn’t be prouder and she wanted to support Bucky all the way. She loved Christmas and now it was going to be even better with this event added to their memories.
She was going to go all out for her man and he didn’t even know it. It was going to be a huge surprise and she couldn’t wait to make it happen.
“Yeah, why not,” Bucky replied, faking a smile back.
“What were you busy thinking about?” Her thumb traced his stubbly cheek as she frowned worriedly.
For a wonderfully successful cook, Bucky didn’t look so happy.
“You,” he answered with the truth though his eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually would at the thought of her.
“What about me?” Her smile returned as she stared lovingly at Bucky’s face.
“Why are you with me?” Bucky couldn’t hide the sorrow in his voice if he tried.
“What?” She sat up straight in his lap as her face fell.
“Please don’t make me repeat the question.”
“Buck, where’s this coming from?” Her hands cupped both his cheeks.
“I just don’t get it.” He shook his head, swallowing as his hands removed hers from his face.
“Don’t get what?!” She placed her hands on Bucky’s chest instead, refusing to let him push her away.
“Why you’re here!”
“I’m here because I love you, what’s hard to get, baby?”
“Do you really love me?”
This was serious. She’s never seen her boyfriend look so broken.
“James, what’s going on?”
“Answer the question, plum,” Bucky requested, the back of his fingers stroking over her cheek, knowing this was probably the last time he would get to touch her soft skin.
“Of course I love you!”
“Then why do you leave me to go meet Sam and then lie to me about it?!” Bucky unintentionally raised his voice.
“W—what?”
There were so many emotions overwhelming her and none of them was pleasant.
She was shocked, hurt and dejected. Bucky has never raised his voice at her before.
 “What were you doing together last night? And the night before and the night before that?!”
“Bucky, you’ve got it all wrong.” She shook her head, heartbroken that Bucky would think of her like that.
“Please leave.” He slid her off his lap and stood up, turning his back to her.
“Bucky.” Tears pricked her eyes.
“Leave, plum.”
“Bucky, me and Sam were—”
“If you won’t leave then I will.” Bucky sped to the door, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanged.
The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of her too. He’s already shown his weakness once; never again.
“Bucky!”
He ignored her calls, ready to run out of the door and let his legs take him far away where he’d have to hear no lies and could no longer get hurt.
“James Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare walk out on me!” She blocked the door, preventing Bucky from exiting the apartment.
Her eyes glistened with yet to be shed tears as her heart pounded in her chest. The mere idea of losing Bucky for any reason terrified her more than anything else.
She loved the man with her heart and soul and would go to the ends of the Earth for his sake. Why couldn’t he see that?
“I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise but… your book is a best seller. Me and Sam were planning you a party to celebrate. We figured if we met at the restaurant it’d ruin the surprise so I saw him at his place after work.”
Bucky stared at her dumbly.
“You can call Sam if you don’t believe me.”
“Oh.” Bucky felt like someone’s just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head; felt like an absolute idiot, “oh, plum.”
“I’m sorry I kept it a secret, but I’m not sorry I wanted to do something nice for the man I love.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her lower lip trembled, “and I’m really sad with you for stalking me and doubting me like that. I didn’t expect that from you, Bucky… and I’m hurt.”
“Sweet plum-”
“You can leave now if you still want to.” She took quick steps to the bedroom, leaving Bucky at the door.
It wasn’t often that she and Bucky fought and it was never something that couldn’t be solved within an hour. He could never bear to see her upset, let alone let her go to bed mad at him.
“Plum,” Bucky softly knocked on her door, swallowing the lump stuck in his throat, “can I please come in?”
But this was big.
Bucky has doubted her love for him. He has insulted her loyalty and ruined everything because of his insecurities and the poisonous words of a man who never cared for him.
She opened the door for him in a heartbeat, her face soaked in tears.
“No, no, sweet plum.” Bucky took her in his arms, praying to the deities she wouldn’t repel from his touch.
“You pushed me out of your lap.” She sobbed, her chest heaving and her forehead pressed to his shoulder.
His accusations hurt but the fact that he pushed her away somehow hurt her more.
Bucky couldn’t help but let his tears fall as well.
How could he be so thoughtless? She was the one good thing in his life and he almost let her go. No amount of restaurants he could open could make him feel as happy as a smile from her would.
He could write a library and collect every prize ever known to humankind, and she would still be the best thing Bucky has ever won over.
“I’m stupid, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hold tightened, engulfing her smaller frame in a desperate hug, “please don’t cry because of an idiot like me. I’m sorry, sweet plum. Forgive me, baby.”
“Why’d you do it?” Her sad eyes looked at him in question, full of confusion yet void of bitterness.
“I- sweet plum-” Bucky didn’t know how to answer her question because now that he looked back, he could see how stupid it all was.
Why did he follow her for 3 consecutive nights while she went to meet Sam instead of just trusting her? Why did he choose to believe and trust in Ryan’s words and not her love for him? Why was it easier for him to imagine her with someone like Sam but impossible to think of her with someone like himself?
“It’s because I’m a big idiot,” Bucky replied.
“Bucky.”
“Please forgive me, plum.” Bucky pecked her temple.
“Tell me what happened.”  She demanded softly, wiping Bucky’s own tears away and kissing his chin.
“Nothing happened, sweet plum. I got inside my own head again. I’m sorry, baby.” Bucky lied with a sad smile, too ashamed to admit Ryan’s words almost had him ruining the best relationship he’s ever been in.
She nodded understandingly, her hand cupping Bucky’s face as she rested his forehead on hers.
Bucky would tell her when he was ready. She didn’t want to stay mad at him. She knew he had issues with self confidence and she wasn’t about to make him feel even worse. He would come to her when he was comfortable. Bucky would tell her on his own.
“Please stay.” She whispered, her teary eyes heavy with sleep, yet afraid to go to bed and have Bucky leave after.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweet plum.” Bucky kissed her forehead, taking her by the hand to their bed.
~
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Her soothing voice whispered, filling the dark room.
Bucky was laying wide awake, Ryan’s words playing in his ears over and over again. What he did to his girl and how he made her cry. All the messed up shit he did just hours ago gnawed at him and took the sleep away from his eyes.
“I ran into Ryan,” Bucky finally replied, unable to sleep while he’s hiding something from her, “he filled my head with thoughts about you leaving me for Sam, and I let him.” He admitted to the ceiling, hesitant to meet her eyes.
“I would never leave you,” she promised him without reluctance, cupping his face and making him look at her.
She wanted him to see all the love her eyes held for him with no shame.
“Please don’t. I will lose the weight, I will—”
“Wait, what? He told you I’d leave you because of your weight?” Both hands were back on Bucky’s cheeks, thumbs wiping under his eyes.
Bucky nodded.
“And you believed him?”
“It’s why he left me.” He shrugged.
“Bucky,” she sighed.
“I know I know. It’s what’s on the inside that counts—”
“Don’t talk as if you’re not physically breathtaking!”
“Baby—”
“No! You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?!”
“Plum, you don’t have to say such stuff.” Bucky shook his head sheepishly and regretted it when he saw sadness cover her delicate features.
She quickly shook it off, scratching her forehead before taking Bucky’s hand, helping him sit up in their bed.
“Sweet plum, what are you doing?” Bucky asked when she started moving the covers down his torso.
“Gonna love on my man. Would you let me, Bucky? Can I love on you?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.
Bucky nodded, hypnotized by the adoration shining in her eyes and she started to undress him.
Her eyes never left his as she took piece by piece of clothing off, revealing his beautiful figure to her, her smile only faltering when she bit down at the sight of her man in all his naked glory.
Bucky’s body was lit up under the soft moonlight coming from the window, helping her appreciate every curve and inch.
This gorgeous human being was his and he was hers.
“You’re so fucking sexy you take my breath away,” she moaned, slipping out of her own sweater, “and I don’t just mean the way you make me cum so many times until I have to fight for oxygen.” She brushed her lips on his.
Bucky was speechless. He could only stare and try not to lose his own oxygen.
“Keep your eyes open for me, Buck.” She pecked his lips once and he opened his eyes at once, not even realizing he’d closed them in the first place.
She smiled at how fast he followed the instruction, leaning back on the headboard and licking his lips.
Bucky’s groan when her bra hit the ground made her giggle. She slipped out of her panties, leaving herself bare before Bucky’s eyes.
“Come here, plum,” Bucky’s arms reached for her but she shook her head.
“This is about you, Bucky Bear.”
She climbed on the bed between Bucky’s legs, her hands wandering along his shins, thumbs caressing up his inner thighs. She bowed forward, peppering kisses on Bucky’s soft flesh.
“I love your thighs,” her lips moved higher and higher, the tiny kisses and nibbles driving Bucky crazy as he tried not to touch himself, “love how thick they are. So strong. So perfect. I would ride them all day if you’d let me.”
Bucky whimpered when she accompanied the honest words with a bite, leaving her mark on his pale flesh.
“And that ass,” she moaned, her hands sliding underneath Bucky, pulling his legs up and cupping his ass cheeks.
Bucky’s shy gasp made her smirk. He was so precious she could eat him. Maybe she should some day…
She let Bucky’s legs settle back on the bed and kept kissing up and up, skipping his twitching cock on purpose and placing wet kisses on his tummy instead. Her eyes locked with his and Bucky bit his pink lip.
He looked so beautiful, blushing, disheveled and turned on like that. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks rosy and his breath uneven; she was falling in love with this chef all over again.
“I love your tummy so so much,” her tongue dipped in Bucky’s bellybutton and the flush spread from his cheeks and on to his neck and chest.
Another moan slipped from his lips as her warm tongue lapped at his skin. She was full on licking him now.
Her words were romantic but the way she was loving him was driving him insane.
“I love to feel it against me when we hug,” she kissed his right side, “I love when you let me rest my head on it and I get to hear you breathe and feel your heartbeat,” she kissed his belly, “I love how it warms my back when you spoon me. And I love feeling it pushing against my ass when you take me from behind.” She pressed a final kiss to his left side.
“My favourite has got to be your cock though.” She gave his leaking dick a single pump and his hips were already bucking off the bed, “I’m a sucker for this cock, baby. Literally.”
Bucky was too busy whining when her mouth wrapped around the crown of his cock to call her out on her bad joke.
His whole body was on fire with need for her. He needed her to do something, anything.
“Plum, please. Let me get you ready. I need you. I need to be inside you.”
Bucky didn’t want to cum in her mouth, not this time. He needed to be buried deep inside her and he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to last.
“I’m ready,” she said, situating herself on top of his cock, rubbing the tip on her wet folds, letting out filthy mewls at the feel of him against the lips of her pussy, “always ready for you, baby.”
Before Bucky could argue that he should at least make sure she was prepared to take him just in case, she was pushing the tip of him in, stretching herself out on his cock with her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream.
“Fuck, plum, so tight,” Bucky groaned, feeling her pussy grip every inch as soon as it disappeared inside her.
When she has completely impaled herself on Bucky’s cock, she stilled, taking a minute to get used to the stretch.
No burn has ever felt as good as the burn she got when Bucky’s dick split her in half. Getting opened on this cock was her favorite thing in the world.
She dragged her lips along his stubbly jaw as she waited, kissing all over his face, savoring the moment as sweetly as possible as if the head of Bucky’s cock wasn’t almost touching up her cervix.
Her open palms glided from around Bucky’s neck to his shoulders and down his arms until she reached his palms.
“and those hands, I think you already know how much I love your hands.” She chuckled as she continued and Bucky nodded, squirming below her.
“I love when you hold my hand; makes me feel safe; chosen,” she rolled her hips, making Bucky groan wantonly.
“I love how fast you can make me cum on the fingers of your left hand.” She whined when Bucky’s hands dug in her sides as she moved on him, surely leaving bruises behind.
“Fuck, plum-” Bucky was so close so fast and he wished he could last longer but the movement of her body on top of his, the words leaving her mouth and her walls snug around his cock were too much.
“I love you. Every inch, every part. I love all of you, Bucky.”
Bucky groaned in reply, chest heaving as he watched her take him.
“I love every part of you. I crave your touch like my lungs crave air.”
Bucky involuntarily thrust up, making her eyes roll.
“Oh Buck!” she wailed, Bucky hitting her favorite spots so good.
He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting hers every time she came down to take his cock over and over again, eyes glued to where he was disappearing inside of her.
“Nothing could ever match the feeling of being filled up of you, Bucky.”
“I love you, plum ahhh fuck,” Bucky moaned, overwhelmed by emotions and ready to burst any second.
“I love you too, Bucky bear. You’re my everything; my one and only.” She kissed him hard, thighs shaking around his body as she came on his cock.
Bucky couldn’t help but let go himself, cumming harder than he has ever before, filling her up with so much cum until he felt it leak out of her despite having her plugged on his softening cock.
She moaned at the warmth of his cum, shuddering when it seeped out of her.
“Fuck, plum,” Bucky sighed on her shoulder, breath still shaky.
She giggled shyly, burying her face in Bucky’s neck.
“Where did that come from?” Bucky asked, cupping her cheek so he could look at her.
She was glowing, smiling at him so innocently as if his cock wasn’t still buried deep up her leaking, pulsing pussy.
“From here.” She pointed to the spot between her breasts.
“Right here?” Bucky leaned forward to press a kiss on her hot skin, making her laugh as she nodded.
“I love you,” he whispered on her lips.
“I love you, Bucky. I love every tiny detail about you inside out. Nothing will ever change that.” She promised, seeing his eyes soften once again, insecurity dissipating.
“Thank you, plum.” Bucky hugged her close, kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck.
“Thank you for letting me show you how much I love you.”
“So you love my cock huh?” Bucky teased.
“Buckyyyy,” she whined, trying to get away as her face heated up.
“No, say it.” Bucky bit his lip, looking at her with a smirk.
“You know I do. Stop.”
“No, plum. I don’t know anything.” Bucky shook his head trying to act serious, “say it again.”
“Iloveyourcock,” she mumbled, trying to take herself off his cock.
“What was that, plum?” Bucky thrust upward into her and even with a soft cock he could make her make the sweetest sound.
“Hngh, I love your cock, Bucky,” she moaned, throwing her head back.
“Hmm, how much?” Bucky swirled his hips, feeling himself get hard again.
“S-so much,” she admitted as his cock stretched her sensitive pussy.
Bucky held her close, turning them the other way around and gave a deep push when he was on top, his cum making the filthiest squelching sounds as she screamed an “oh god”.
“So much you’d let me take you again?”
“Yes, yes,” she nodded frantically, not wanting the man to stop his thrusts.
And he wasn’t going to.
Bucky’s tummy pinned her down as he pressed his lips to hers, eating up her squeals as he pounded her into the bed, showing her how much he loved her.
~
“So you really don’t care about my weight?” Bucky asked, supporting his body up on his elbows as he stared at her glossy eyes.
She could barely remember her name as she tried to come down from the other two orgasms Bucky has just given her, his body still on top of hers, but that wasn’t a question she needed to think about the answer to.
“I only want you okay and healthy, Bucky. If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Otherwise, you’re perfect to me,” she told him with a shrug, pushing his wet hair behind his ears, “every little thing about you is perfect.”
“I love you so much, plum.”
“I love you more.” She smiled, heart fluttering at the look he was giving her.
“Not possible.” Bucky kissed her lips, “not possible, plum.”
~
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909 notes · View notes
nicka-nell · 4 months ago
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omg ur taking requests!
can you do some angst to fluff with Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa (I’m sorry if they’re too many you can choose whoever you want to write about from these characters, I luv all of them soooo much)
Can you make it like really really Angsty in the start. Like the characters doing something they’ll regret a lot and then they spend a lot of efforts making up for it? Please make it fluffy in the end, I can’t handle sad endings 😭
Also please don’t include anything with infidelity or mentions of it. My boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me last month and I’m having such a hard time.
Thank you for considering my request. And there’s no pressure to accept, I don’t mind at all.
Hi! yes I am taking requests right now. 😇 First of all, I'm so sorry that you had such a negative experience. But tbh, you're better off this way. Nobody needs such an ass cheating on them! 😔😤 My ex did that too, with my ex-best friend btw. I also had a hard time but quickly felt better because I realised that it's a waste of time to cry over such a dick. I hope you don't lose hope in a healthy relationship based on trust. There really are good people out there and I hope you find someone who can appreciate you. Sending you a lot of hugs and kisses. 🤗💚❤️‍🩹
And for your request. I've written three stories for Tsumu, Iwa and Suna. Unfortunately they got a bit tooo long for my taste, so I only made these 3. I hope that's okay. I really had problems making it super angsty (urg, I need more practice for angsty stuff 😵‍💫). As you wished, I didn't include anything with cheating (even though I had a few ideas haha.) and I also added a trigger warning before each story. I think Iwa's and Suna's in particular might be a bit darker... so you can decide on your own if you want to continue reading it or not. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thanks for your request. Stay healthy! 🥰💚
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Regretting their actions
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Pairing: Atsumu x, Iwaizumi x, Suna x reader
Warning: angst to fluff, break-up (Atsumu, Suna), mention of abuse/anger issues, mention of blood (Iwaizumi), mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (Suna)
Part 1 | Part 2 (End)
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tw: mention of break-up
You met Atsumu when he came to his brother’s onigiri store for the housewarming.
The two of you got along well quickly. And it wasn’t long before he kissed you at a party, looked at you with his cheeky grin and said, “Tastes better than a victory.”
More things happened that night. Not just simple kisses and when you woke up next to him in bed, he asked you, still sleepy: “You’re my girlfriend now, aren’t you?”
You’ve been together for several years now and were thinking about moving in together soon when Atsumu’s career suddenly took off. He was traveling abroad more often and had less time for you or looking for an apartment.
And then it happened…
You scroll through the apartment search app for something suitable for the two of you, lying on the bed while missing him terribly. You close the app to go to your messenger, only to realize that you were the one who last texted Atsumu... two days ago… Two blue check marks indicate that he has read your messages but has not replied. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone and you think about writing to him. Maybe he read your message during training and didn’t have time to reply. Maybe he just forgot about it afterwards... maybe...
“Hey Tsumu... I know you’re busy but, I hope you’re doing well. Love you.” you type into your phone and send the message with a strange feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take long before you see under his name that he is online. The gray check marks next to your message turn blue, but instead of replying, you see that he went offline again. You swallow a big lump down your throat, your heart feels heavy. Maybe he can’t answer you right now... you try to convince yourself again.
Several hours pass as you sink your head into your pillow and try to stifle your tears. Atsumu’s sports t-shirt is in your arms, which he had given you before his trip abroad. Time passes and suddenly you hear the ringtone of your phone as a message arrives. Your heart hits loud against your chest as you reach for your phone and see your boyfriend’s name. But your joy quickly disappears, the lump in your throat gets bigger and you can’t breathe. 
>> Hey... listen, I think it’s better if we end the relationship… break up. I don’t know, but I just don’t have time for it. I’ll see you around. <<
It feels like a slap in the face. As if this is a poor joke. You want to write to him, ask him what this is all about, but your tears blur your vision. The only thing you send is a “really?” but the message is no longer read. It remains on one gray check mark.
Two days go by and you still think it was all a bad joke, but every time you read his message, you feel like throwing up. Has he really dumped the whole relationship? By a shitty text message? You open your Instagram account and enter his name almost as if on autopilot.
Another slap in the face as your tears run down your cheeks again. His bio no longer says “Best setter and proud boyfriend” but simply “Setter MSBY Black Jackal”. All the pictures he had with you on his account have been deleted. Instead, you can only see advertising photos or private photos of him. The last eight pictures are of him, Hinata and Bokuto dancing and having fun with fans in different bars. Atsumu grins at the camera as if he doesn’t care about you at all. As if your relationship meant nothing to him.
You text him some more times, leave him voicemails because he never answers your calls. But after a few days, you let it go. It only frustrates you even more to see how little this relationship actually meant to him. For days, you cry yourself to sleep, what doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu. After all, he sees you three times a week when you help him out in his store. When you tell him what has happened, he is also speechless, because Atsumu has really pissed him off with all his raving about you. So why would he break-up with you out of the blue? Osamu can’t see you as devastated as a heap of misery. So he also tries to find out the reason for the break-up between you and his silly brother. But when he calls him, Atsumu only faces him coldly on the phone. “Did she tell you to ask me? Leave it okay? I think I just realized that I don’t want a relationship.”
Two months go by and somehow you still can’t believe that your relationship just fell apart. Osamu tries to distract you somehow, but it doesn’t help because he reminds you too much of your idiot ex-boyfriend.
Nevertheless, you are grateful to Osamu for swapping your shift with his coworker’s shift so that you can open the store with him in the morning. That way, you avoid running into Atsumu, who is more likely to be in the restaurant in the evening as soon as he returns from his stay abroad. You’re not ready to face him at the moment.
Just as you’re about to finish work, you remember that you wanted to show Osamu a video on your phone. “Look, the new trailer for the second season of this soccer series is out. Shall we watch the first episode together on Saturday after work?” you ask Osamu as he approaches you and looks over your shoulder. He rests his hand on the counter next to you, his chest almost touching your back, but he keeps his distance from you respectfully. You are both focused on the trailer, not hearing the doorbell from the store.
Atsumu is tired. The flight was delayed, and he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. How could he sleep well with all the partying and Hinata as his roommate, who spent the night in the hotel calling his friends from Karasuno. At least that’s what he tells himself… that this is the reason for his sleepless nights. But this thought vanishes when he steps into his brother’s store hungry, actually only wanting to eat a few onigiris and then go home. Into his apartment. His empty, dreary apartment. But as he walks through the door of the store, it feels as if someone has hit his chest with full force, knocking the air out of him.
He sees Osamu leaning towards you with a sense of familiarity. What’s going on there? And why does it bother him so much that you giggle and look at Osamu, who returns your gaze with a nod and a smile before turning to the door? His brother winces when he sees Atsumu. As you turn around as well, your smile disappears.
You look at Atsumu as if you’ve just seen a corpse, before packing your bag and saying goodbye to Osamu with a “See you tomorrow.”, only to walk past Atsumu with quick steps. You don’t even give him a glance, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, your tears would run. You would want to ask him questions upon questions. Why did you break up with me? Why am I not enough for you? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why...
As you walk through the door, you accidentally bump into him. This nudge, which was actually rather gentle, felt so painful. Why does it bother Atsumu to see you standing so close to his brother? Why does it hurt him that you stared at him with those empty eyes, as if he were a stranger? No. Worse, as if he were someone who had hurt you. Why does he have the feeling that he couldn’t make a sound if he opened his mouth now? The answer is simple, and even Atsumu seems to understand it by now as he looks from the now closed door over to Osamu, who stares at him with an indifferent expression crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So this is what someone who has realized that he doesn’t want a relationship looks like? Ya look like shit.”
Oh, how Atsumu would love to punch Osamu in the face. “Why are ya touchin’ my girl?” is bitter on his tongue, but he has no right to say it out loud. After all, he was the one who turned you down. The blonde Miya suddenly realizes how incredibly stupid his action was.
Back then, Atsumu had not expected to be traveling abroad so often. At first, it was only temporary stays. Nothing that would damage a relationship.
But the last few times in particular, he was sometimes away for several months. You kept telling him on the phone that everything was okay, but every time he called Osamu, he said that your eyes were sometimes red when you came to work and that you looked tired and sad.
Atsumu knew he was the reason. That you’d probably be better off without him. After all, you’re a great woman, someone who would find a new partner quickly.
You didn’t deserve to be sad all the time when he was gone. You should be happy. After all, a smile suits you so much better than a sad expression.
Atsumu would concentrate on his career. It would be difficult for him at first, but he would manage without you. He had to… for your sake.
So his mind was made up when he read your unanswered, concerned messages. If he texts you now to say that it’s over, being an ass to you, you’ll be able to forget him quickly… That was what he thought. 
But it wasn’t that easy. Your puzzled messages, your crying voice on his voicemail, broke his heart. Yet he tried to cover it all up with parties and his dear fans. He convinced himself that he was fine. Only to arrive home, see you and realize what an idiot he was, how much he missed you.
And now it’s Atsumu who reaches for his phone and texts you message after message.
Atsumu 8:02 PM: Hey babe, no.. hey Y/n. I know I have no right to text you. But please… let’s talk. I fucked up. Damn, I fucked up so hard that I don’t even know how to start… shit…
Atsumu 8:12 PM: Please… please answer your phone, babe…
Atsumu 8:44 PM: I know I’ve fucked up. I know I hurt and disappointed you. Fuck, I know I was an ass. Yk, I thought I was doing the right thing. 
Atsumu 9:34 PM: Fuck… please answer me… I still… damnit. 
That was the last message you received from Atsumu before you put your phone away and tried to forget him. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he stirring up your feelings again?
But Atsumu doesn’t think about stopping now. He runs to your house, to the apartment building and rings your doorbell. Once, twice, he rings so often that you can’t ignore it. You are about to tell him to leave through the loudspeaker system, but he interrupts you.
“Fuck baby, please open the door. I’m… I still love ya, okay? I always loved ya. I - shit, can ya even hear me? Fuck…” he curses agitatedly and presses the bell next to your nameplate again several times.
But instead of letting him in, you go down to the entrance of the apartment building and open the door with an expression on your face that Atsumu has never seen before. What is it? Anger, sadness, despair? Everything somehow.
“Say... are you kidding me? Do you think that’s funny?” you ask him, bewildered, still standing in the open doorway. Of course, you wouldn’t just believe him. Atsumu could have guessed. Your reaction was completely understandable. But he has to do something to show you that he’s serious.
“No, no, I don’t. I’m dead serious. Please let me explain,” he says, and starts to tell you that he thought a break-up would be best for you because he’s not good enough for you. Since you were obviously so sad about him leaving so often and he didn’t want to be the reason. He tells you that he thought he could get over you, but that he had to realize that you are the most important thing to him. Something… someone he doesn’t want to lose. With shaky hands and a still agitated voice, Atsumu takes out his phone.
“I wanted ya to hate me so that it would be easier for ya. But believe me, I... I couldn’t forget ya. Look, you’re still my wallpaper. All the photos of the two of us are still on my phone, all the memories-“ he is about to unlock his screen when his phone falls out of his hand and drops to the floor. Atsumu seems to be completely overwhelmed right now, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Should he bend down, pick up the phone, should he keep talking to you or hug you? He doesn’t know.
”Baby, please, please, I’ll do anything. Please gimme a chance. I’ll talk to my agent about not takin’ so many jobs abroad. I will be with ya more often. Always write to ya and call ya in the evening when I’m not at home. Let’s look for an apartment so we can move in together. Please, please, I would do anything. Please believe me that I love ya. Please..." he begs in a voice that becomes more and more brittle with every word. His eyes are full of emotion and his hands, which have unconsciously reached for yours, are trembling terribly.
“Two months... two months you ignored me, treated me like a piece of trash.” You say in a low voice as you search for eye contact. Atsumu has never felt so scared. Only now does he realize that the love of his life is standing in front of him, and that this might be the last time he’ll see her again, the last time he’ll touch her skin. But then again… Atsumu was an ass, so why should you forgive him? No, he can’t think like that. After all, you loved him. And if you love him as much as he loves you, then maybe there’s still hope.
“I know, and I know I can never make it up to ya. I know it’s not done with an ‘I’m sorry’. I’m the dumbest, most idiotic ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had. But... I’m stubborn too. And if that means chasin’ after ya for 10 years, drivin’ to yer apartment every day to ring the doorbell and tell ya I still love ya, wishin’ ya a good night every day, nice dreams and telling ya how important you are to me... I’ll do it. Every damn day, if it means there’s still a little hope for us.” He answers you hoarsely, keeping eye contact, hoping that you see how honest his words are.
You sigh, bend down, and pick up his phone before handing it to him. Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with all this. His face grimaces as if he’s expecting the worst. “Then... you shouldn’t lose your phone... if you want to write to me every day,” you answer him, a weak smile on your lips. Atsumu’s sorrowful expression suddenly changes and you see him looking at you with hope.
“Does that mean ya...” the blonde Miya can no longer contain his emotions as he leaps forward and pulls you into his arms. His embrace is so tight that you can barely breathe, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his hands. Firm, but quivering. His whole body is shaking and you’re sure you’ve just felt something wet on your skin. Tears? Is Atsumu crying? “I promise to be a pain in yer ass every day. To text ya, to call ya, to be there for ya. Even in yer sleep. Okay? I love ya... I love ya so much...”
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tw: abuse, anger issues, mention of blood
You’ve been with Iwaizumi since your school days. Back then, as a little flirt at school, Oikawa and Matsukawa mainly teased Iwaizumi for having a crush on you.
But in the end, many were jealous of the perfect couple who waltzed together on the dance floor at the prom with loving looks on their faces.
You were inseparable. Even Iwaizumi’s stay in America for his university didn’t affect your relationship. So it was no wonder that you got married after his return and were the perfect happy couple.
At least for the first few years.
The stress of being a coach for the Japanese national team is weighing on Iwaizumi’s mind. He normally handles stressful situations well, but he is under pressure.
If the team fails to perform in the next few games, he will lose many sponsors and possibly even his job.
Iwaizumi is constantly on edge and you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around him so you don’t provoke him.
More often, he has sudden temper tantrums, shouting at you about things that aren’t worth mentioning. “Damn it, I told you I need this one shirt for today. Why isn’t it clean?”
And once, when you stumbled with your words and asked him whether it might not be better to take a break as a coach, he was so angry that he almost hit you. But he managed to hold back and just sighed before going out for a beer in a nearby bar.
You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but right now, you’re really scared of your own husband.
Today was another training match between the Japanese national team and the Indonesian team. The team’s performance was better, but nowhere near good enough to shine. You watched the game on TV and run through your imaginary list in your head already, of potential trigger points for Iwaizumi. You don’t want him to get upset. The laundry is done; the house is clean; the food is also ready and in the fridge. Did you take out the trash? You chew nervously on your lower lip as you walk to the kitchen and let out a relieved sigh. That’s done too.
You are just closing the lid of the garbage can when you hear the key in the lock of your front door and Iwaizumi comes home with a surprisingly normal, “I’m home, my love, smells good in here”. Your shoulders relax immediately, a smile is back on your lips as you walk cheerfully into the hallway to greet Iwaizumi.
“Hello darling! How was your day?” Iwaizumi hugs you and leans down so you can kiss his cheek. “Let me eat something first. My day has been really exhausting,” he sighs, watching you nod and turn around to warm up the food for him. Your husband hangs up his jacket, puts down his bag and is about to turn around to follow you when he stumbles against a nearby vase that you had placed as a decoration for the fall changeover. The vase swings, loses its balance and falls to the floor in pieces.
“Shit!” You hear Iwaizumi curse and immediately run to him, anxiously hoping that nothing has happened to him. But luckily, he is unharmed. “Wait, I’ll clean up the broken pieces, you eat-“ you’re about to say, but Iwaizumi interrupts you loudly. “Always this stupid bullshit you put up. Shit, I could have hurt myself. If I miss now, that’s it for my career!” he shouts and stomps past you. You turn around hastily and apologize. “That wasn’t my intention, really,” you say, before realizing that it was a mistake to talk back. Iwaizumi turns around, his eyes ferocious and angry like a wild animal as he takes a step towards you. Your heart is beating restlessly and you are suddenly afraid.
“Not your intention? Admit it, you’d be happy if I got rid of the job!” he shouts, noticing how you start to tremble and shake your head. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be in his right mind as he takes another step towards you. “Go clean up the mess! Make yourself useful!” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at your anxious and puzzled face. You know you should move, but your body doesn’t seem to listen, too scared to move a finger. And then it happens.
Iwaizumi grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him. You cry out, weeping bitterly as you hear his voice again. “Are you deaf?! Get going!” he shouts, before pushing you away with more force than necessary. You lose your balance, stumble over your own feet as you fall and hit your head on the edge of the stairs in the hallway next to the broken vase. Your head hurts terribly, something warm flows down your face, sticking to your hair and making your vision suddenly completely different. It gets smaller and smaller before everything goes black in front of your eyes and the sounds around you stop completely.
Iwaizumi is abruptly perfectly sober and only now understands what has just happened. What he has just done to you, the woman he loves more than anything.
His eyes are big as he stares at his hands, which start to tremble in front of him.
Panic spreads through him as he looks at you. At your motionless body, at all the blood under your head.
He doesn’t know how he did it. His memories are hazy, but he can still remember trying to wake you up, in vain.
He had taken off his shirt, pressed it on your head injury to stop the bleeding and somehow managed to call an ambulance. Iwaizumi can’t remember anything else, just the one question from the paramedic who put you on the ambulance stretcher and took you to the hospital. Since Iwaizumi was your husband, he was allowed to drive with you.
“How did this happen?” the paramedic asked, as Iwaizumi answered quietly, “I don’t know... I really don’t know.”
It’s now been some hours after the accident and your head had been stitched up. Thank God it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first.
You’re still in the recovery room, Iwaizumi next to your bed on a chair, his hands folded in his lap as he hangs his head in bewilderment, looking at his wedding ring shining on his ring finger.
What happened? What has become of him? He still can’t believe what he has done.
He looks at his hands again, opens them, starts to tremble, clenches them into fists and realises how he lets out a frustrated sigh, which he had been holding back, as warm tears roll down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of his trousers.
In his mind, there’s only your shaking body, that frightened look, your screaming, and then this unbearable silence.
When you open your eyes, your head throbs a little and you have to squint through the bright, clinical light. “Where... where am I?” you say quietly, looking around the room and noticing that you’re lying in a hospital room. Next to your bed is none other than Iwaizumi. But he looks different. Broken… He shrinks at your words and looks up at you. You see his red eyes and how he hesitates whether it’s okay to take your hand in his. Iwaizumi gets up from his chair, wants to close the distance to your bed but his legs collapse and he falls to his knees when he suddenly starts to... cry? 
“Haji- me...” you say, still feeling exhausted. “I’m... god I...” Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to look you in the eye. He takes a deep breath, regains his courage before peering at you. Carefully, he grasps your hand, checking if you are afraid, but you don’t seem to pull it away. Maybe because you’re still too tired. Awkwardly, he strokes the back of your hand before resting his forehead on it and closing his eyes briefly.
“I’m a terrible husband. I’ve done everything I shouldn’t have done. Instead of carrying you on my hands, bringing a smile to your face and protecting you from everything that would harm you, I’ve done the exact opposite. Instead of being happy to see me, you’re just scared of me, aren’t you?” he says in a shaky voice and looks up at you again. You are calm. Just stare at him with a hurt look.
“I.... I can understand if you want a divorce. If you don’t want to be with a monster like me anymore. I really can’t even blame you. But... please let me tell you one thing. When I saw you lying on the floor like that, the world collapsed inside me. I was afraid of losing the most important thing in my life. And the most important thing is not my job, no, it’s you. And I’m ashamed that I’ve forgotten that. I am disgusted with myself and I know that is no excuse. What I have done is unforgivable. But please... if there is still a bit of hope, then I will try to do everything I can to be the man you fell in love with again. I want to be your Haji-bear again. Your place of peace, and your favorite person. I will go to anger issues therapy, behavioral therapy. If it’s better for our relationship, I’ll step down as a coach and see if I can find a job as a volleyball coach at a school. No matter what, I would do anything.” Your hand becomes wet as his tears land on it. His words move something inside you. You want to believe him, you don’t want the relationship to end either, but everything that has happened so far will not pass by without damage.
“I need time, Hajime... If you really mean it, please grant me the time...” you answer him and notice how your words seem to tear him apart. But at the same time he seems to want to make the best of the situation. He lets go of your hand and stands up just to sit back down on the chair next to your bed, looking at you determinedly, his eyes still red and swollen. “As much time as you need. If it means we still have a chance...”
A few months pass. Iwaizumi has passed on the house to you and moved into his parents’ house to give you the space you need. He goes to therapy three times a week and tells you about his progress. He is still coaching the national team, but his assistant coach is taking a lot of the work off his hands and the volleyball team seems to be playing better again.
Just like when you were at school, you’ll find a letter in your letterbox once a week. Back then, Iwaizumi always told you a bit about his week and wrote it down because, funnily enough, he was too shy to talk to you in person. Only that in his current letters he writes that he misses you, but hopes that you are doing well at the moment.
He meets you in public places, goes out with you, so that you gradually feel more comfortable with him again, that you can see his progress in therapy and don’t just think it’s empty words.
Six months have passed since the incident. You are standing in the bedroom, changing the sheets, when Iwaizumi comes through the front door of the house. “My love, I’m home,” you hear Iwaizumi’s calm voice. Coming home from his therapy session, he hangs up his jacket in the hallway as your voice lets him know where you are. 
Iwaizumi puts the flowers he bought for you on the kitchen table before he sneaks into the bedroom and sees you trying to unfold the sheets to put them on the blankets. With silent steps, he reaches around your waist to throw you onto the bed with him, wrapped in the covers that were in your hands earlier. Screaming, you laugh in unison with his chuckle as you look into each other’s eyes. “Hajime! Don’t scare me like that.” you laugh softly, while his hand gently tucks your hair behind your ear. Iwaizumi looks at your forehead, at the small scar that is left from your injury, before leaning forward and giving you a kiss on that spot.
“I’m sorry, but that was just so tempting,” he says, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer and just relaxes in bed with you. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead once more. “Hajime... what’s going on? Why are you so clingy suddenly?” you laugh, but Iwaizumi doesn’t join in the laughter, instead answering you seriously.
“Today, six months ago, I almost lost you. I’m just grateful that nothing happened to you. Thankful that you gave me another chance, even though I showed my worst side.” You can’t think of the right words to answer him, so you just smile, snuggle closer to him, and close your eyes. Safe in his arms, with his pulsating heart at your ear, you fall asleep.
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tw: mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (without consent) 
Suna and you were just friends for a long time. Even if the others saw you more like a couple.
You were the only one Suna didn’t mind when you sat next to him and pulled out one of his earphones to listen to music with him.
You always had the same route to school and if one of you came to school alone, you knew immediately that the other one must be sick. 
With graduation, you mentioned that you might want to study abroad. That time, Suna had a weird feeling in his stomach for the first time. As if he was afraid of losing you.
That was the day he realised that he felt more for you than just friendship.
The same evening, he asked you to come over and watch a movie when he yawned in a very clichéd way to put his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he just was.
A number of things went through his mind. What if you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you? Will you still want to study abroad? Would you end your friendship with him if you didn’t feel the same way?
He tried to block out the questions and then, with his usual calmness, asked you if you could imagine anything more than a friendship. Luckily for him, you said yes.
From that moment on, everything was perfect. You had created your own little world over several years. You studied, and luckily not abroad. Suna was successful in volleyball, so you were both able to buy an apartment together quickly.
Just the two of you. Your friends were there from time to time, but in the evenings you were always alone at home, arm in arm, in the quiet flat without any noise or other people to disturb you.
Until one morning where you look at the little piece of plastic in the bathroom, stunned, when the two red stripes tell you that you are pregnant.
You hadn’t spoken to Suna about having children yet, but you’ve been together for so long now and everything is going well that you assume he would be just as happy as you are.
You thought…
When Suna comes home, you’ve already prepared a little surprise. There are a pair of baby shoes on the table in the living room, the pregnancy test in front of them and a little balloon with “Best Dad” written on it. You can’t help smiling as you see Suna walk into the room when you call out “surprise”, looking a little shy in his direction. But Suna’s reaction differed from what you expected.
Almost disgusted, he looks in your direction. “This better be one of those stupid TikTok pranks, right?” he says, and your smile disappears abruptly. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. And not because of the pregnancy. You stand there irritated, only able to utter a quiet “No... it’s not a joke”, confused by his negative reaction. “No? What week are you in? Tell me you can still have an abortion...” he says, annoyed, as he walks towards the table to see if there is any information about the week of pregnancy on the pregnancy test. 
“What?” you say in bewilderment, still looking at Suna, who throws the test on the table in frustration before starting to massage his temples. “We’ll go to the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? Get rid of it. A child means responsibility. You have to look after this thing all the time, you’re no longer flexible and it’s noisy too... I just don’t want that.” 
His words feel like a thousand stabs. Never have you seen Suna act like this before. You anticipated that he might be a bit taken by surprise and perhaps not be able to deal with the situation at first, but Suna seems to have a very clear opinion on the subject. He doesn’t even seem to be willing to talk. But abort a child? Let Suna’s and your baby die just like that? You can’t do that. You don’t want that. 
The two of argue. Suna’s look gets progressively angrier. Yours sadder until he decides to leave the house with a “Do what you want, maybe it’ll die anyway”. Now you’re home alone with his painful words. You stand rooted to the spot in the room for several more minutes until the strength in your legs finally gives way and you slump to the floor, crying bitterly. The night, you spend alone in your bed, without Suna. He doesn’t answer his phone and doesn’t reply to your messages. You don’t hear from him the next day either, and he hasn’t come home. Thank God you get a message from Osamu, who texts you that Suna is with him and that you have nothing to worry about. But how are you supposed to stay at home without worrying if your boyfriend doesn’t get in touch with you and you’ve been arguing for days? You are scared. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the relationship and everything you two have built up.
Another day passes. You lie in bed, tired and lacking in energy. Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and get up, go to the bathroom to get ready for the day and don’t notice when the front door opens and Suna walks in. “Baby doll, I’m at home... and... I’m sorry...” you hear Suna’s voice and walk out of the bathroom. Even though you had a fight, you are still happy to see the man you love so much again. With a somewhat sad smile, he stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he approaches you.
“I’m really sorry. I behaved like an ass. You took me by surprise with the news and somehow... I don’t know. What do you say you sit down now? I’ll make us a drink and we can talk about all this. About the baby, and what happens next?” You can hardly believe his words. What has Osamu done in the last few days to make Suna suddenly do a full turnaround and be willing to talk to you openly, without shouting about becoming a parent? You make a mental note to thank Osamu later, before nodding with a smile and sitting down on the sofa in the living room.
But what you don’t know is that Suna went to a friend, a doctor, who gave him two pills before he came home. Pills for an induction of abortion. You have to take one now and the other two to three days later.
Suna knows that you wouldn’t take these pills voluntarily.
So he makes sure that you are indeed sitting in the living room before he takes out a small bag containing a pill, puts it in the grinder and turns it into a fine powder before mixing it into your iced tea.
He takes a deep breath, putting his smile back on as he walks towards you in the living room, where you are already waiting for him with happy eyes.
Without saying much, he hands you the glass, sits down next to you and watches you.
“I know it’s all so sudden and I could have said it differently. I really took you completely by surprise with the news,” you say quietly, looking at the iced tea in your hand, unaware that an abortion pill is floating there.
Suna listens attentively as you talk about how you first had to understand what a pregnancy means, but that your overwhelm quickly turned into joy because you are looking forward to holding a mini version of the two of you in your arms in less than 9 months. You talk about all the beautiful things that are going through your head, while Suna continues to listen to you, his eyes constantly focus on the tea in your hands and you.
He keeps looking at you as you raise the glass and press it to your lips, ready to drink the poison cocktail, when he realizes what he was doing. What he’s trying to do here.
Panic strikes him. His green eyes widen as he literally knocks the cup out of your hand. It falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t drink that!” he says in an unsteady voice and looks at you in horror.
But you don’t understand anything, only shake your head.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I... I think I just made the worst mistake of my life,” Suna says, looking back from you to the broken cup. You don’t understand what’s going on and tilt your head, asking him if everything is all right. But when Suna continues talking and tells you what was in your tea, your world collapses. You are shocked that your own boyfriend wanted to do this to you. “I was overwhelmed. I... I know that’s no excuse. But when I heard you talking, I realized that -“ Suna wanted to continue, but your voice cut him off, your words silenced him.
“Let’s break up,” you say, and unlike before, unlike when you argued a week ago, your voice is determined now, your eyes full of pain and betrayal. Those green eyes that used to mesmerize you are now looking at you desperately. “What?” Suna whispers softly, followed by a “No, wait”. But you interrupt him again.
“You just wanted to give me some drugs without my consent so I’d lose the baby?! No, Rintarou… I’m breaking up with you. That... no, I can’t do that.” Abruptly, you get up from the sofa, ignoring the hand that tries to grab you before quickly slipping into a jacket and a pair of shoes just to leave the apartment. Suna wants to run after you, but his legs won’t move. His mind and heart are screaming to run after you, to stop you and tell you he’s sorry, but his body just won’t obey him. When he finally manages to get up, you’re already gone.
Still wearing his slippers and without putting on a jacket, he eventually runs out to check out all the places you love, all your friends, to see if he can find you somewhere. But no matter where he looks, he can’t find you. You don’t reply to messages or phone calls. The mechanical voice of your voice mail greets him directly. “Shit, shit, shit!” he yells as he stands in the park where you two had your first official date. The surrounding people look at him. Some with an irritated look, some as if they were pitying him.
Without really knowing where to go, your legs automatically led you to the bus that goes to Kita’s home.
Kita was one of your best friends back then. And you knew that if you went to Kita and told him not to tell Suna that you were there, he wouldn’t tell his friend either. And that’s exactly what Kita did.
You were in Kita’s guest room when you heard Suna’s voice in the hallway.
He sounded shattered, broken, as he begged Kita to tell him where you were.
This went on for several weeks, until one evening Suna rang the doorbell again, trying to talk to Kita in a voice you had never heard before.
His voice was so thin, so fragile, as if a heap of misery was speaking out of him.
Kita tells him once again that he doesn’t know where you are when you hesitantly open the door, thinking about going downstairs and listening to what Suna has to say. But for now, you just listen to the conversation.
“Please, Shinsuke, I know you know her location. Please, just give her this. Please...” Kita sighs, followed by a soft “ok...” before the front door closes. Your best friend’s footsteps creak beneath the floor as he walks up the stairs, looks at you a little twisted and hands you a large package.
You know that you demand a lot from Kita. It’s not easy for him to lie to his friend either. Eventually you have to talk to Suna.
Alone in your guest room, you spend almost half an hour looking at the unopened package at the other end of the bed until you finally decide to open it. When you see what’s inside, surprise catches you. Multiple emotions flow through your body without you even noticing how your eyes suddenly turn glassy. Small letters and several items are in the box. You take out the letter that is on top of all the other items.
“My love, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t apologize for what I did. Nevertheless, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I was confused and scared. Our relationship has always been perfect so far and I thought it was great that it was just the two of us and that no one else disturbed our privacy. I was afraid that when we had a child, we would argue, have no more time for each other, and grow apart. I was selfish and didn’t think about how you would feel. I wasn’t thinking about our baby. The thought that we were both going to be parents hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But every time I walked past those little shoes you had placed in the living room, I couldn’t think of anything else but seeing our child standing in them. How it tries to move around in it, sometimes falls down because it loses its balance and seeks shelter with its beloved mom. I regret every second of what I’ve done, every word I’ve said. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do, and yet I did it. I am sorry. I am so terribly sorry.
I did some research. Did you know that it is currently very difficult to find midwives? You should probably start looking very early on. My team colleague gave me the number of the midwife he and his wife had at the birth of their two children. I also have three other numbers. You might want to give them a call. There are also birth preparation classes in our town. I have also put a brochure in the package for you. You don’t necessarily have to go there with your partner. With me… So... if you want, you could also go there with Kita, even if I would be happy if we both did it together. But I can understand if you don’t want to.
Are you eating enough? You should pay particular attention to your diet during pregnancy. A lot of women suffer from a vitamin deficiency during pregnancy. But you have probably already discussed this with your gynecologist. Anyway, I’ve written down a few recipes for you that are rich in vitamins. I admit that Osamu helped me a little with this. Oh, and on the back are some things you shouldn’t eat during pregnancy. Raw eggs and products containing them such as ice cream, mayonnaise and so on... you should not eat them, because the risk of salmonella infection is high. Peanuts can contain aflatoxins, which can also harm the fetus... but as I said, I’ve put together a list for you. In case you didn’t already know all this already. There are a few other things in the box. Maybe you’d like to take a look.
I hope you are doing well. I hope the baby is doing well too. Have you thought of a name yet? Do you know whether it will be a boy or a girl? I’m sure there’s already a little bump on your belly. I... would really like to be with you right now. Would love to hold you in my arms and stroke your tummy. I know I made a mistake that can never be fixed. But if you’re willing, if that’s what you want, I’d really like to be by your side again. And if not as your boyfriend, then as the father of our baby. I would like to do couples’ therapy with you so that we can find our way back to each other… So that you can trust me again. Because in all of this, I was the problem and never you. But only if you want it too, of course. I know it may be hard to believe, but I love you. So much that a life without you scares me. I am sorry…”
You’re crying bitterly by now as your tears blur the ink on the letter before you put it aside and look in the box. Next to a small onesie for babies, there is a note with the telephone numbers of midwives, a small book with recipes, the brochure he had mentioned and another box containing photos and memories. Pictures that Suna had always secretly taken of you at times when he thought you looked extra pretty. You always found the photos embarrassing, but for him they were beautiful to look at. Because they were moments when you were just being you, not smiling for the camera or doing anything else to disguise yourself.
There was also a necklace with shells on it in the box. You made it for Suna when you were on vacation in Croatia. It turned out incredibly ugly, yet Suna wore it proudly during the whole vacation. You’re touched that he still has this ugly necklace. Little notes that you wrote to each other at school are also in there. So many more memories from the past. Where had Suna hidden this little box in your apartment so that you never noticed it?
You hastily get up, open the door and run down to the hallway as Kita comes out of the living room and looks at you questioningly. “Is everything all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He asks concerned, but you just shake your head, wanting nothing more than to see Suna, talk to him again. He asks you if you are absolutely sure, but your determined nod is enough for an answer. So he grabs his jacket and car keys, driving you straight to your ex boyfriend, to your apartment. He doesn’t want you to take the bus in your current state.
Suna is sitting in the living room. In front of him on the coffee table are various reports on pregnancy, parenting and more. His head is leaning on his hands as he takes a deep breath. Have you opened his package yet? He wonders, unable to think clearly, when he hears the key in the door lock and runs into the hallway as if stung by a tarantula. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, standing rooted to the spot in the doorway, not knowing how to react.
“Shinsuke... Drove me here...” you say. “I opened your package.” You continue, watching Suna swallow hard, still not moving an inch from the doorframe. “How are you, the baby?” he asks quietly, almost absent-mindedly, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. “Good... can... can we talk?” you ask and watch him nod, having trouble sorting out his feelings. You take a step towards him, clearly seeing the dark circles, the red eyes, the slightly thinner face, as if he has lost weight. And on closer look, you can see his whole body trembling.
“Is everything you wrote in your letter true?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, even though you’re at your wits’ end. “Yes, yes all of it. I’m sorry for everything... I want nothing more than to see you happy. To see our baby happy. And if you want another partner by your side to be happy, if you don’t want me in your life, then I will accept that.” Suna whispers, knowing that if he were to speak even a little louder, his voice would fail and he would cry. You take another step towards him. “What if I want you? Want to give it another try?” You have barely spoken your sentence before you hear a bitter shuffle from Suna, which he seems to have been suppressing the whole time. His shaky hands carefully reach for your face before he presses his forehead against yours and says softly, “I would wish for nothing more than that.”
Although you hesitate for a second, you finally put your hands around his back and stand with him in the doorway for a while. Neither of you says a word. Both of you let your tears run until Suna releases you at some point and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “You shouldn’t stand for so long. You’d better get some rest,” he says in a somewhat steady voice before helping you out of your jacket and leading you into the bedroom, where he pushes the sheets aside so you can lie down. 
“Rin, but I’m not tired at all...” you say, even though you are exhausted, but Suna lies down right next to you, pulling you close while his free hand moves to your stomach. “I know... But... let’s just lie here like this for a moment, regain our strength before we talk... Talk about everything, our future, how I can make it up to you, our little baby… Agree, baby doll?” He whispers tiredly. Yet you also notice how all the crying is slowly making you a little tired. “Agree, Rin.” you smile weakly, snuggling closer to him as you both fall asleep arm in arm, his hand protectively on your baby bump, your hand on his.
330 notes · View notes
comically-callous · 19 days ago
Note
Can I request headcanons for Kurt, Remy, Logan, and Wade being stuck with his gender neutral crush in close proximity please?
Love this 👅👅👅
Wade, Logan, Remy, and Kurt with gn!Reader in close/forced proximity 💕
Warnings!!!: Mild language, tad bit suggestive in a few parts (nothing crazy, don’t get excited), Wade being semi aware that he’s in a fanfiction lol, forced proximity in smallish places
A/n: Hello, I’m back. I liked writing this one, it brought me joy even though I had a mental breakdown halfway through writing it for unrelated reasons. Anyways, requests are open 😛
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Wade Wilson:
Wade drags you out to a casino after a successful mission together because you guys are in Vegas and he wants to celebrate!! and definitely not because he wants to spend more time with you
But, of course, as soon as you two exit the lobby area of the casino and enter an elevator, the thing comes to a sudden halt.
“Uh-oh. The good ol’ forced proximity trope. Better get comfortable, Y/n. I’ve read enough fanfiction to know we’re not getting out of here anytime soon.”
Obviously, you call the front desk. But, they tell you it’ll be a while till they can send someone over to get you guys out of here.
Despite the shitty situation, Wade is happy to be spending time with you.
The two of you sit on the floor after a while and even though it’s a pretty spacious elevator, Wade sits right next to you. Like, shoulder to shoulder.
He’s sure to keep you entertained while you wait to be rescued. And by keeping you entertained, I mean he won’t shut the fuck up.
And it’s really all fun and games for him until you show any signs of being genuinely upset or nervous about being stuck here.
That’s when he basically pries the doors open himself and somehow manages to climb through the elevator shaft and fixes the problem himself.
“How the hell did you manage to do that?”
“I can be useful when I want to, hot stuff.”
You guys leave a negative review on the Casino later.
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Logan Howlett:
You two have to share a hotel room together while on a mission, and unexpectedly, (say it with me, now) there’s only one bed.
“I can sleep on the floor.”
“I don’t want you sleeping on the floor.”
“Do you wanna sleep on the floor?”
“The bed can easily fit two people. Besides, It’s just for one night.”
“…”
“Come on…. I don’t bite.”
So, now you two are sharing a bed. And to your surprise, he’s being very mindful about it.
He sets up a little wall of pillows between you and says it’s to protect you in case his claws come out while he’s sleeping.
And obviously, you don’t know about it, but he’s pretty nervous.
He knows it’s stupid and he knows he shouldn’t be nervous because it’s not like anything is going to happen between the two of you. But, still.
He gets up once or twice to leave the room to smoke and definitely not to go outside and contemplate every single thing he’s done tonight.
When he comes back, you apologize and he realizes that he’s probably made you think that he’s somehow uncomfortable by your presence.
“Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind this, honestly.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
And so, the two of you get into bed together. Don’t worry. He’s going to be a gentleman about it unless you don’t want him to be 😈
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Remy LeBeau:
The two of you are tasked with grabbing some spare blankets from a closet after some of the children at the school ask to build a pillow fort.
Easy enough task, right? Wrong. Somehow the two of you get trapped in the blanket closet together.
One can only bang on a door and shout for help for so long before giving up.
“Don’t worry, Mon Ami. Gambit’ll keep you company.”
The two of you can’t really move too much, both settling for leaning against the walls opposite from one another.
He assures you he wouldn’t mind you getting closer. Which, of course, gets you flustered and you just have to hope he doesn’t notice in the dark.
He’s having a great time. He loves teasing you, and getting to see you get all nervous.
“You sure you don’t wanna get a little more comfortable?”
“It’s fine, really. Someone’s probably realized we’re gone by now. They’ll find us here any minute.”
“Shame. I was hoping we’d get a little more time alone together.”
Anyways, it turns out if there are people looking for you, they’re doing a pretty shitty job, because you haven’t even heard anyone walk by the closet and it’s been nearly 20 minutes.
And Remy knows he unfortunately can’t just stay in here with you forever. So, he’ll knock down the door the second you give him the word.
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Kurt Wagner:
You, Kurt, and a couple of the other X-Men take a little road trip. Or are all driving to do a mission. It doesn’t really matter, you’re all in a car together.
You and Kurt end up drawing the short straws and are forced to be crammed into the small backseat together.
Now, could Kurt hypothetically just Bamf over to wherever you guys are going? Probably. But, why would he do that when this is the perfect excuse to spend time with the person he’s been pining after for…. Weeks? Months? Who knows.
It doesn’t matter! He’s happy to be here with you. But, also nervous.
He doesn’t wanna upset you, or weird you out, or make you uncomfortable at all! That’s the opposite of how he wants to make you feel!
So, he may or may not end up basically smushing himself against the car wall.
He chills out eventually and gets comfortable. But, fuck, those first 30 minutes were ROUGH.
You two get to talking and he’s just so happy to be spending time with you. So happy his tail subconsciously wraps around your ankle.
You either don’t notice or don’t say anything. Either way, the tail stays there.
After a couple hours, your eyelids start to feel heavy. And before you know it, you’re asleep. On Kurt’s shoulder. AND HE’S FREAKING OUT ‼️‼️
-Y/n? Y/n? Mein Gott….”
And that’s the last thing he manages to get out before going completely ghost and still. He wants you to get your rest.
Eventually he falls asleep too. Turns out the two of you get very good rest when sleeping together. Maybe you should do it more often.
381 notes · View notes
flowerfreya · 2 months ago
Text
Normalcy
The office AU - Part 16
Reader just wants to get back to normal , but the boys just want to take care of you
Poly!141 x reader
Crazy , ex girlfriend was banned from the premises, if spotted the people in the building were told to contact the 141. She would be violating her restraining order ( you did not know about this) and trespassing.
In the hospital, you did decide to press charges but you made it known you didn’t want to go to court and all that mess. You just wanted it to be over.
The boys felt like they owed you one. But also they just wanted to be there for you.
You wanted to go back to work once the doctor cleared you to go home from the hospital, showing up to the building the next day , sore but ready to work. The boys did not like that. At all.
“What are you doing here?” , John snaps at you.
It has you looking up from the computer, confused murmur, “working”, you answer back.
“Don’t you have a concussion”, Gaz says as he strolls in from the annex. His forehead is creased and he’s straining his eyes trying to see if you are in pain.
“No, only some bruising and messed up ankle”, you answer, starting to get annoyed. They were at the hospital with you almost the whole time. Asked more questions than you did. You know they are just making up shit to coddle you, and you don’t appreciate it (yes you do but you don’t want to admit that yet).
“Maybe yer should on the typing, hen. Might hurt your wrist” , Soap says from his seat, twirling his pen but looking as intense as the other men.
You just wanted to feel normal again. And you don’t have that much saving and definitely not enough PTO to have all this time off.
“I just need normalcy, please”, and money , you say to John.
He is still staring at you. Trying to figure you. Maybe trying to read your mind you don’t know but you look down at your keyboard hoping for him to leave you alone.
~
In the break room, your warming up a very sad microwavable meal when Simon comes in.
You give a tight lipped smile, “sorry no leftovers today”. He touches your arm causing you to jump, “alright”, he ask.
Shrugging your shoulders, “not really”, you say truthfully. You don’t know but being honest with Simon is easy. Maybe because he doesn’t give you solutions but offers a listening ear.
“I used up all my PTO and I’m for sure in the negative and I can’t afford it”, you say starting at the microwave. Embarrassed. A little ashamed that you everytime something good happens to you another thing ruins it.
“I can donate some of mine to you”, he say.
Your turn to him , shocked, not wanting to get your hopes up. “Are you allowed to do that”, you ask.
(Well first of all , Price was going to pay your regardless, wasn’t going to use your PTO at all, it’s his company, his money. But Simon knows that you wouldn’t want that, he knows that you want to be independent at least for a little bit).
“Already asked the boss”, Simon replies.
You let a sequel, jumping up and down (as much as you could do in a boot). Wrapping your arms around his neck, “thank you , thank you , thank you”, you feel all the stress just about to leave your body.
He huffs, “calm down”, grabbing you by the hips , he holds you in place.
He holds you closer, your chest to chest. Unconsciously matching your breath with his as he leans forward and buries his head where your neck meets your shoulder and inhales.
“Everything okay”, you ask. Holding your arms in the air unsure what to do with them. You know for a fact this inappropriate for work.
“Missed you”, he mumbles.
You didn’t really get a lot of time with him before getting hit by a car and everything.
You close your arms around him, leaving a little kiss on his head, “missed you too”.
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heartkyeom · 1 year ago
Text
be sweet
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prince!hoshi x princess!reader (svthub garden collab)
word count: 18.7k
warnings: arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, modern royalty au, family issues, descriptions of food, unprotected sex
tag list (only svthub members since I’m revamping my tag list): @bitchlessdino @wondernus @idyllic-ghost @strawberryya @junkissed
notes: oh my god I finally have another fic out!! this one was truly a labor of love, thank you to all the svthub members that beta read any part of this story. this fic is for the @svthub garden collab and I am extremely grateful for the network’s help with this story <3 I’m very happy that this aligned with hoshi’s birthday! and a big big thank you to my beloved @wondernus for making this amazing header for me!!! as always, I hope y’all enjoy this and please leave feedback through reblogs !!!! and the title is based off the amazing song be sweet by japanese breakfast, listen along to it if you’d like!
The day’s events shouldn’t have felt so taxing, yet they were. There were only a few meetings you had to sit in on, both not requiring full participation. That sounded easy enough for you to handle, you were used to the rigor of royal meetings for years now.
It was easy enough to brush off any requests with a short comment of approval or neutrality, never expressing a thought of negativity unless the guest was close to your family.
You didn’t pull the princess card very often, especially since your meetings mainly consisted of fellow royals who knew the pressure of the job, but today felt different.
Maybe it was the dull pressure that resided in your head, making it hard to focus on the topics at hand. You curse yourself for not taking some kind of headache relief earlier, but now it has lodged itself in the middle of your brain.
You almost work up the nerve to speak up, but your aide beats you to it.
“Princess,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, “there's an urgent matter. We should leave immediately.” Her hushed tone makes your heart clench.
You could only hope no one in your family was hurt. You silently nod and clear your throat, bringing attention to yourself.
“I’m so sorry, but something urgent came up. I have to go, but please make sure to send me any notes and I’ll be sure to review them before we meet again,” You offer the room a small smile, enough to garner empathetic nods from the room.
You let out a shaky breath and stand from your seat, your aide trailing slightly behind your side as you both exit the room in silence.
“What’s going on?” You ask hesitantly.
“Someone has requested a private meeting with you, they asked to keep their identity a secret. Everyone in the family is okay, don’t worry,” The aide turns her head slightly to make sure she can see your response.
You can’t help but ask about your family first, it’s the only thought you have as the only child.
If someone’s passed on, you’re stepping up to handle the situation, and the emergency plans start to kick into high gear.
Luckily, that nightmare can remain at rest.
“Okay,” you nod slowly, trying to process who could want a private meeting with you.
Is an elder statesman concerned about his country? An estranged family member asking for a favor? It really could be anything or anyone.
You both keep a consistent pace through the cavernous halls of the royal estate, your footsteps echoing loudly with each step. You soon arrive at one of many conference rooms, and you’re surprised to see your aide face her back towards the door, she steps aside to let you walk in.
“I’ll be out here if you need anything, lest it escalates to that point,” She raises her eyebrows at you before looking away. That wasn’t a reassuring sign.
You brace yourself before going inside, but nothing seems to prepare you for who’s waiting.
“Hi, lovely.” Kwon Soonyoung smiles at you in a menacingly sweet kind of way, it makes your blood boil.
He’s dressed much nicer than you’re used to seeing him, he’s the type to wear baggy clothes that swallow him whole. In contrast, today he wears a crisp button-down with black slacks, his suit coat nowhere to be found. His signature designer sneakers are exchanged for loafers instead. There’s no logical reason why he could be here, considering his own busy schedule as a prince.
Soonyoung isn’t flying in for a private conversation just for the hell of it.
“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance.
“That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth.
You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.
Most princesses knew to let each other know that if they were charmed by him, Soonyoung was ultimately not marriage material. If anything, he was determined to make himself the least suitable husband possible.
He was the typical sweet boy turned party animal, spending most nights abroad drinking his days away with a new girl in his bed every night. He does show up to the occasional political obligation, but only when his team forces him to. That’s one reason why he bothers you so much, he has such little duty to his native country of Aranorin and the people in it that everyone else has to make him care about it.
“You’re joking, there’s no fucking way,” Your body vibrates from laughter, but you slowly come to your senses once you see he’s not cracking another joke.
“I’m not joking, I’m here to start our courtship.” His serious tone makes you start to consider the gravity of the situation.
“Hold on, so you think you can just come into Maritria, coming from god knows where,” You make a broad gesture toward him before continuing, “to formally start our relationship. That’s what you’re saying,” You cross your arms, returning to your originally defensive stance.
“Yes, this isn’t just coming out of thin air. This has been in the works for a few months now,” He raises his eyebrows to punctuate the timeline. It just makes you even more confused. Why wouldn’t anyone tell you about this?
“What do you mean?” You question.
He braces himself one last time. “I’ve been speaking to the king and queen about arranging our marriage for two months,” You almost think his face goes slightly sympathetic at his admission, but that’s wishful thinking.
Regardless, it’s a blow to your ego.
How could they not tell you? How could they so easily shift the responsibility onto him without saying a word?
It would be one thing if they were still considering other men, but to know the talks were final, that Kwon Soonyoung was your future husband whether you liked it or not, was a devastating realization.
“This is unbelievable.” You let out a shaky whisper, you’re so rattled that you force yourself to sit down and close your eyes, willing yourself to take a deep breath.
You open your eyes to see him hovering near you, clearly a stifled attempt to try and comfort you. Yet, he’s the least comforting person you’ve ever known.
“I don’t want to do this either. You’re definitely not my first choice for a wife.” He scoffs at the possibility that he could ever choose you without incentive.
“Yeah, clearly. You’d rather want a girl who would kiss your ass every day instead of being honest with you.” You retort.
The gossip that flitted between young royals all but confirmed your suspicion that he dumped any girl that tried to make a long-term connection with him. It was fine if he didn’t want to get married. Not all royals are meant for it, and he didn’t have as much pressure to marry off as the youngest child. He could get away with being a lifetime bachelor, but choosing that lifestyle wasn’t worth hurting other people in the process.
“Aw, is lifetime celibacy boring you that much to the point where you’re worried about the girls I sleep with?” He cracks a smile that you match with a forced laugh.
“No, I just think you dump them as soon as they realize how small your dick is.” You smile through your response, causing him to form his arms together.
“You’re so lucky now that we’re together, you can finally stop waiting for those nice guys who don’t have a personality to sweep you up,” His condescending tone makes you frustrated but not deterred from bantering completely.
“So I can end up dating one of your dickhead friends instead? Absolutely not,” You shake your head knowing how insufferable most of his friends are. Soonyoung just happened to be the worst of them.
“All jokes aside, I know you’re perfectly aware of why we’re getting married. I don’t have to look at the news to know things are bleak,” His straightforward approach forces you to swallow the lump in your throat.
You knew the country’s finances were not great.
You didn’t want or need to see the exact numbers, especially if it makes your day-to-day duties labored with worry. Although many political teams insist that princesses have no business in the logistical affairs of running a country, it meant everything to you to know how your country was faring in the world. Maritria already maintained a longstanding connection with Aranorin that gave your country some freedom to pursue other lucrative opportunities, but it dawned on you that it wasn’t enough.
“I’m doing this for my country, not out of some pathetic excuse you may have to avoid self-reflection. You can just get married to me and stop pretending to be a good person, right?” You ask bitingly.
“We both know I stopped pretending a long time ago. Marrying the nation’s sweetheart is just a bonus,” He smirks unapologetically, you don’t like the way the nickname sits on his tongue as if it’s his own.
“Is there anything else you want? I need to get back to work,” You stand up from your seat, trying not to look back at the door while you plot your escape. It was hard enough not to completely explode at him, and you needed to redirect your energy elsewhere.
“There is, I got you something,” He retrieves a small velvet box from his pocket. “It’s not an engagement ring, but just consider it a courtship gift.”
You open the box and lightly examine the ring. You know it’s far too expensive than most of the jewelry you’ve ever worn. Your family was wealthy, but Soonyoung’s family had the kind of money that you didn’t need to plan so carefully around. However, you don’t want to seem so easily impressed.
“It’s fine. When are you planning on proposing?” You brush him off easily.
“That ruins the surprise.” He smiles at you yet your face remains stoic.
“I’ll get your number from someone else, I don’t want to drag this out anymore.” You stuff the box in your dress pocket and start to make your way toward the exit.
“It’s been horrible to see you again, Your Royal Highness.” His stiffly formal greeting makes you turn around to face him.
You squint your eyes. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“The Royal Highness thing,” You point at yourself before continuing, “I’m not gonna say Your Royal Highness every time we’re in private. Don’t start giving a shit now.”
“Fine. Bye, darling.” He quips.
Your face contorts into disgust before you can stop yourself. “You’re not gonna make that my mandated wife nickname.”
“You don’t get to choose the nickname I give you, honey.” He approaches you and pinches your cheek before speaking, “Besides, it’ll be fun to try to figure out how to mask my hate for you in public.”
You cringe at his touches, but you straighten up immediately.
“Likewise,” You offer a tight-lipped smile before finally leaving the room.
You close the door behind you and take the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.
“Can you clear my schedule for the rest of the day? I need time to deal with this,” You finally look at your aide with an expectant glance.
“Yes, of course, princess.” She immediately grabs her phone to send notices to those involved. You can’t even remember who you were meant to see for the rest of the day. Your mind simply wanders to your parents, the next targets of your rage.
“I’m gonna go home. I don’t want to see anyone unless it’s my parents. Or him, not that I want him around anyways,” You roll your eyes at the thought of having to voluntarily communicate with him on a regular basis.
“Sounds good. I have his phone number, if you’d like it.” She offers.
“Ok,” You agree and quickly input his phone number. As you type in a contact name, you’re not sure what to call him.
Soonyoung is far too casual, it doesn’t feel comfortable yet. You’re absolutely not calling him by his title, not by a long shot.
The romantic pet names similar to the ones he used with you were not earned, so it left you stumped.
You settle on “headache,” because the ache in your temple is still there, bothering you immensely and now he’s adding to it.
You’re just lucky that you didn’t end up shouting at each other this time.
As if they could read your mind, your parents call you in for an emergency meeting before you can make it home. That pent-up rage is starting to make its way out before you even see them, it shows in the way you stomp to your father’s main office, marching far ahead of your aide.
You open the door without knocking, a major sign that you’re not looking forward to the discussion.
Your father gives you a warning look, but you’re not bothered by it. The staff turns their attention toward your bold entrance, immediately preparing themselves to leave.
Your father is sitting in his velvet study chair, poised as always. Your mother stands behind your father, idly leaning her weight against the back wall.
Her demeanor is not as composed, as if she knows you’re about to raise hell.
“We’d like a private meeting, thank you,” He gives a pained smile to the staff and they all file out silently. You watch them with a fiery gaze, waiting for the last person to close the door behind you.
When the door finally shuts, you whip your gaze to face them again.
“Soonyoung? Are you kidding me?” You exclaim.
“Y/N, please,” Your mother tries to intercept, but you’re faster than that.
“Actually, I’d like to know exactly why I was left out of the conversation about me having an arranged marriage, to begin with,” You cross your arms and lean back in your chair, preparing yourself for a bullshit excuse.
“Well, we were anticipating this kind of reaction,” he gestures at you in disapproval, “you weren’t meant to be involved in these discussions in the first place.” He speaks to you so patronizingly that it almost catches you off guard.
“So you can just decide that I’m getting married on a whim, just like that.” You snap your fingers impatiently.
“You know how the country is currently faring, you knew marriage could possibly be an option for financial security almost a year ago. Please don’t act like this is some affront to you,” Your father slowly raises his voice, fists slowly clenching as he elaborates.
“Yes, but you didn’t tell me things were this bad. You didn’t tell me that you had tried everything else. Hell, you didn’t even tell me that you were starting discussions about marriage!” You were trying your best to keep your voice even, but the defeat was starting to show through.
“We ultimately thought leaving you in the dark was best, but we miscalculated.” Your mother tries to cover for your father’s stern approach. You scoff, turning away for a moment before continuing.
Miscalculated is an understatement. You were devastated.
Your father seems to be annoyed that you were showing this much emotion while your mother seems ashamed that the situation has escalated this far. Their conflicting expressions just made you feel even worse, knowing that they couldn’t act as a united front. You wished that it was either complete anger or support from both of them.
“Soonyoung. You can’t possibly tell me he was the only option,” You turn back to them with glossy eyes.
“Sweetheart, you know Arinorin is one of our most important allies. Soonyoung would have always been an option. Even if there were better options, we couldn’t ignore him.” Her comforting tone does little to comfort you at the moment.
A tear finally falls onto your cheek. Her words hurt because she was right. Even if there was a perfect prince waiting for you out there, he wasn’t the prince of Arinorin.
“He hates me, you don’t see how much he hates me.” You shake your head and cover your face with your hands. You’re fully sobbing into your hands and it leaves your parents speechless. You know they’re looking at you with full judgment, but it didn’t matter.
“You’re giving your only daughter away to a man who despises her.” You seethe through your tears.
“He hasn’t given us any reason not to trust him.” Your father speaks up again and it breaks you down even further. He has that immovable stare on his face that signals his word is final.
You compose yourself before speaking again.
“When we get a divorce, it’ll be your fault.” You lift your hand to your cheeks, wiping away any stray tears left on your face.
“You’re being ridiculous, you’re saying that you won’t even try for your country?” Your father shifts in his seat, it seems like he wants to jump up and fully lecture you but it won’t happen.
You finally snap. “I have tried for this country! Every day, I have shown both of you what I’m capable of as a future queen, not asking you for anything. Now, the one part of my life where I should have control, choosing the person I’m married to, I have none.” By the time you finish speaking, your tears are gone by sheer will. Your eyes burn with the familiar sting of fatigue mixed with anger bubbling over the surface.
“I’m sorry, dear.” You see your mother wipe a tear of her own. You were grateful that she saw through you, at least at this moment. It was a quiet show of support that you needed amongst all these difficult feelings.
You put your head in your hands for a moment before looking up at them. “I’m going home and someone will send me the things I need to wrap my head around this entire situation.” Your tone is far more measured compared to before.
Before you can hurt your own feelings by hearing them out, you decide to make your exit. You’re nearly out of the door before you turn around again, letting go of the doorknob.
“I’ll always remember that he told me first instead of you.” With that, you leave without looking back at their expressions.
Hopefully, it’ll hurt like hell for them to hear it.
You ignore the staff members that were peering near the door, eagerly waiting to see who would break first. You’re sure that it looks dramatic, but you were far too concerned with your own feelings before anyone else’s.
Once you made it home, you were attempting to forget the stress of the day and it was going relatively well. You were able to catch up on a TV show you’d been forgetting to watch, and finally remembering to do self-care tasks that were left unattended due to your work.
Now, you’re taking a bubble bath with no intention of opening your eyes anytime soon. You needed to just sit, you didn’t have much time to do that most days.
The water is still fairly hot, enough to where you can sink down and continue to salvage any remaining calmness you might’ve had left.
Thus, your vibrating phone didn’t exactly make you feel at ease. You hope that it wasn’t one of your parents, considering your conversation didn’t have a clean finish. Any of their apologies would be falling on stubborn ears.
You glance at your lock screen and if anything, it’s worse.
It’s him. You pick up the phone with an anxious hand and press the accept button.
“What do you want?” You snap at him.
“You actually picked up!” He notes with a hint of surprise.
“Trust me, I didn’t want to.” You shift uncomfortably in the bathtub, the sloshing water calling you out immediately.
“Is that water? What are you doing?” His curious nature already annoys you, so it’ll be easier to dodge the question.
“None of your business.” Your free hand cups the remaining bubbles in the bath.
“Oh my god, is the princess naked on the phone with me?” He sounds far too pleased with himself. You can practically hear his shit-eating grin in the way he replies.
“You’re a horny little freak who hasn’t told me why he’s called yet.” You force yourself to sit up now that the relaxation in your body is quickly dissipating.
“Right. We’re doing intimacy coordination tomorrow. I figured you didn’t look at that schedule they gave you.”
“Shit.” You sigh just out of earshot.
Intimacy coordination isn’t common at all with arranged royal marriages. If a couple looked like they had never met before in their life, it was typically on them for not being more convincing. Yet, the number of public events you two have to be involved in over the foreseeable future warranted different circumstances. If you couldn’t look head over heels for each other at the wedding, it was going to spell trouble for both countries.
“I’m only in town until tomorrow night, so I don’t have to look at your face for much longer than that,” You sigh at his response, knowing that he’s not one to hold back with you.
“I wish you could leave sooner, maybe I could actually enjoy not seeing you even more than I already do.” You reach to open the drain.
“Just practicing my future husband duties by stressing you out, love,” You can practically hear his smile through the phone.
“That one isn’t bad, actually,” Your thoughts trail off once you hear it, but he brings you back to reality almost immediately.
“So that’s definitely not what I’m gonna call you.”
“I’m hanging up.” Your waning patience with him has officially run out and you’re itching to move on with your night.
“Bye, honey!” He’s laughing uncontrollably through the response and it makes your blood boil. It’s clear that this is already a joke to him.
“Fuck off,” You hang up before you have to listen to his laughter any longer. You put your head in your hands and let out a muffled scream.
He already wanted to make this courtship as excruciating as possible.
You finally stand up from the bath and wrap a warm towel around your body, staring at your reflection in the mirror.
Luckily, your parents did listen to your request and a massive document of schedules and timelines of your relationship with Soonyoung appeared in your email inbox.
You had only skimmed the schedule before Soonyoung called you, you stopped looking at it before it stressed you out beyond repair.
According to the timeline your parents created in accordance with his team, you were supposed to have been dating for 11 months at this point.
You can’t possibly imagine putting up a front for 11 months, but then again, you would have to pretend for the rest of your life.
That thought haunts you through the rest of your night routine.
How do you carve your life around Soonyoung when he’s creeping his way into everything?
How do you find peace when you’re with someone who’s determined to misunderstand you?
These questions have you wiping your tears as you attempt to fall asleep that night.
To your dismay, the intimacy training was first thing in the morning.
You were barely conscious, but somehow you arrived early with a slightly cloudy mentality and an overall dread for the next 2 hours.
You were the first of the three, besides your personal staff members, to arrive at the dance studio. You figured the space was far too big for what you were working through today, but you forego criticism to admire the room.
Admittedly, you didn’t go into many of the creative spaces throughout the palace because you weren’t a creative type. The arts were simply something you admired from afar, you didn’t have the talent even as a child to pursue these things seriously.
This apparently needed to be remedied as you notice the sweeping mirrors around the perimeter of the room. The hardwood floors were practically shining underneath your feet. You’re sure that whoever used the room was sure to enjoy themselves.
You’re admiring yourself in the mirror when you catch Soonyoung entering the room. He quietly greets the staff, giving short bows to everyone in sight.
It’s the only time you’ve seen him act with a royal demeanor, even in his casual workout clothes it’s a bit surprising to see him this way.
He makes his way over to you with a smile on his face.
“You’re early.” He eyes you up and down.
“Unfortunately, yes. You look.. comfortable.” You don’t mean to raise your voice up another octave, but you were just barely attempting niceties.
“So do you, you actually don’t look like you're trying too hard for once.” He leans against the mirror and gives you another judgmental look.
“It’s far too early in the morning to play this game, Kwon Soonyoung. Don’t get your feelings hurt.” You close your eyes before you get too angry, a slight change of pace from your typical interactions with him.
“It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be more awkward considering you’ve only had two boyfriends, one who looked like he was your son.” He stifled a giggle.
“Chan was so sweet.” You pouted at the thought of your teenage boyfriend. He really was kind, probably the perfect first boyfriend that you could ask for. You remember how much he cried when you broke up with him. You just weren’t the same person you were when you started dating him at 16, so you needed the space to grow apart.
Unfortunately, Soonyoung was right about the mom thing.
“It’s not my fault I had a growth spurt and the stylists kept dressing me like a divorce lawyer.” You insisted.
You recalled how harsh the style blogs were on you back then, many claimed that you’d never find your own personal style as long as other people kept dressing you older than you actually were. Unfortunately, they were also right. You live and learn though.
However, you didn’t even want to think about your second boyfriend.
“I’m just saying good chemistry doesn’t come naturally to all of us, it’s okay to ask for help.” His faux concern was especially irritating.
You weren’t that awkward with men, were you?
You didn’t have much time to consider an answer before a young woman walked into the studio.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both! My name is Elise and I’ll be leading you both through training today.” She offers her hand out to you for a handshake and you accept with a smile. She does the same to Soonyoung and moves toward the mirror.
“So, how long have you known each other?” She dives right into discussions with the question.
“Around 15 years or so?” The number that came out of your mouth was definitely a rough estimate, but it sounded about right.
You vaguely remember being introduced to Soonyoung and his older siblings at a fancy state dinner as a child. He was far less mischievous then, a bit timid around everyone except his family. Since then, you’ve ran into each other regularly due to the relationship between your parents. They were far closer to each other than you were with him and his siblings, so the situation feels a bit ironic now.
“Okay, but I’m assuming you haven’t been in contact very often?” She clarifies.
“Not at all.” He chimes in.
“Right, so we’ve got our work cut out for us then. Today isn’t gonna be too complicated, you’re just gonna be trying some physical activities to see how natural that looks.” Elise smiles in order to lighten the mood, but you’re certain it won’t work out.
“So, what are we gonna practice, hugging?” He scoffs, and you’re certain that he thinks this is all bullshit. You weren’t happy about it either, but keeping up appearances was the most important part of this.
“Yes, I know that sounds weird, but I promise it’ll pay off,” Elise continues to offer reassuring statements, but he’s not convinced and frankly, neither are you. You exchange a glance with him and decide to take the lead as the awkwardness continues to sit in the air.
“So where should we start?” You ask out of a mix of curiosity and dread.
“Let’s just have you both hold hands.”
Soonyoung extends a hand out to you with a smirk on his face. You’d rather slap him, but you’d think it would leave Elise traumatized.
You take his hand a bit too forcefully and adjust yourself within his hold. By glancing at the two of you in the mirror, you notice two things.
First, his hands are warm, a bit too warm for this moment.
Secondly, his thumb is absentmindedly brushing against the back of your hand. You can’t call attention to it or else it’ll stop, and you decide in the moment that it’s too relaxing. He probably doesn’t even notice that he’s doing something so romantic, that little bastard.
“Okay, so how does that feel?” Elise asks.
“Fine.” The reply forces itself out of your mouth.
“It’s fine.” He agrees with a nod of his head. He also peers at the both of you in the mirror with a slight curiosity, his head tilting slightly.
“We do look good together, though.” He murmurs to himself. You’re not sure if it’s the arrogance peeking through and he only believes you look good while he’s with you, but maybe for a second, you can see what he’s talking about.
“Good, and what’s a small physical gesture you can do to make each other feel at ease?” Elise’s question causes you to look up at him.
This feels unnecessary since Soonyoung is not a nervous person. No matter what, his particularly frustrating charm and gregarious personality never allow any anxiety to show to others.
“I can just do this.” He calls attention to the thumb thing and that puts you on the spot.
He seems incapable of needing comfort. It’s one of the things that keeps a silent distance between the two of you. You believe that he remains emotionally stunted in order to navigate his world a bit easier.
He can let the girls who want something more from him down easy, and they don’t realize how bad it really felt to be pushed away until they never see him again.
You didn’t want to end up in that position.
“I don’t know.” You let your mind wander for a moment.
Yet, he was bold. He was always decisive in what he wanted, never caring about what his actions made him look like if it was for better or worse.
You figured that you should be bold too.
You intertwine your fingers deeper into his grasp and pull his hand to your lips, leaving a small peck on the back of his hand.
His eyes widened immediately. “That’s quite forward, princess.”
“I needed to one-up you,” You answer nonchalantly, but you don’t miss the slight spark in his eyes. It was unexpected, and you were always going by the book.
Elise ignores your conversation and continues her questioning. “So I assume you both will be interested in PDA?”
“To a certain extent, I don't see why not.” You pull back slightly into your reserved nature, but he runs with it.
“Yes, we’re supposed to be a more open and progressive couple to represent a new generation of royals, so it would be nice to be a bit bolder,” He nods decisively along with his response.
You didn’t really think about the relationship like that until he mentioned it. While you were attuned to a certain sense of responsibility as the singular face of your country’s new generation of leadership, it was known that you fought back against regressive norms brought up in your daily work.
Why not lean into something new when the image of your respective countries so desperately needed a refresh?
“That’s good to know. I know you both have different styles, but I think there are ways we can meet in the middle here.” Elise notes.
That statement proves to be true for the rest of your session. Elise leads you both through hugging and slightly provocative gestures that make you want to crawl out of your skin, but you both fumble your way through it.
Soonyoung seems insistent on embarrassing you with more revealing gestures while yours are relatively contained. He’s being a bit too playful for your liking, but it helps you understand his personality a bit more.
You decide that you want a moment to speak with him before he flies back home later that evening, excusing Elise and the remaining staff to leave you both in the studio.
“When do we see each other again?” You ask.
“You’re a bit too eager, aren’t you darling?” He smirks at you, and you lose the slight bit of faith you had instilled in him before.
“Shut up, I’m just trying to remember this stupid schedule.” You grumble. You resort to pulling out your phone instead, quickly finding the most up-to-date iteration of the relationship timeline in your email inbox.
“I’ll be in Arinorin in a few weeks to meet your parents,” Your brain works through the schedule quickly, scanning the information fast enough to say it out loud.
“Oh shit.” He mutters under his breath.
Oh shit was right. You haven’t had a proper conversation with the king and queen since you were a teenager. It was typical family friend fare, asking how your studies were going, if your hobbies were still things you enjoyed and a faint interest in any other topics that you happened to bring up.
Since then, there were only brief interactions in passing that were fairly positive. They must’ve thought quite well of you if they agreed to have their youngest son marry you, but that was something you’d have to inquire about with them.
“And to go on a date with you,” You mumbled.
That’s what really rattled you. It wouldn’t be real until no one else was around to direct and stage your romance, it was up to the both of you to make it happen.
“Right, I’ll get to choose what we get up to.” You can tell that his brain is creating a vision that will be less than satisfactory, and you can’t fight the urge to attempt to gain control.
“We aren’t going on your yacht, are we? I think you’ve broken enough hearts there.” You tease him.
“Very funny, and no, we’re not going on the boat… anymore.” He admits with an eye roll.
“See! I knew you were gonna take me there!” You interject, letting out the laugh that had been sitting in your chest for a minute or so.
“I’m never anybody’s boyfriend, cut me some slack,” He says it as if it’d get him off the hook for being mentally checked out during this process.
That much was obvious from the lack of planning, but you’d have to give him some space to try and impress you.
“Yeah, that’s pretty clear. I know long-term planning isn’t your strength.” You bite back and he brushes it off easily.
“Get all your jokes out now, but I’m gonna impress you. Mark my words,” He points at you while heading towards the door.
“We’ll see about that, loverboy,” You check your phone absentmindedly while he sees himself out.
“Is that my nickname?” He pokes his head back into the door with an excited tone.
“Bye, Soonyoung,” You grit your teeth into a smile and watch him reluctantly leave the room.
You can only hope your future in-laws aren’t as insufferable as him.
A few weeks later, the trip to Arinorin has arrived and all of its possible consequences are driving you up a wall. The culmination of meeting with your future in-laws, the date with Soonyoung, and the idea of being perceived as his partner outside of your home country are all slightly nauseating.
At first, it was just fun and games, but now, as the plane lands, the tension settles beneath your skin. Soonyoung was supposed to be picking you up, but you didn’t have much faith in that happening.
You barely remembered to grab the ring he gifted you so you could wear it while you were in town, simply as a reminder that this was all happening.
You exit the plane with your luggage in tow, only for Soonyoung to be waiting on the tarmac. He’s accompanied by a large black SUV that is clearly not his personal car, but his stance is trying to convince you that it is.
“Hi, princess.” He calls out with a wave of his hand.
“When are you gonna actually call me by my name?” You approach him with squinted eyes, your vision steadily adjusting to the early afternoon sun.
“When this feels less awkward, so give or take a few years,” He jokes.
“Not funny,” You gesture to him to take your luggage, and he catches the hint once you look at him again. You don’t want to shoulder smaller tasks onto his staff, you wanted to see how he would handle these things instead.
“How was the flight?” He calls out to you again, you hear the trunk slam shut and he comes into view again to anticipate your answer.
“It was alright, I’m just tired.” You rub at your temples to punctuate the feeling.
“Hopefully your room will be good enough,” He sounds somewhat considerate while opening the door for you. It feels wrong.
You slide into the back row with him following behind you. He shuts the door and his driver promptly begins the drive to the palace.
“Are you nervous about the trip? My parents aren’t exactly as kind as yours,” Soonyoung chuckles.
You let out a deep sigh. You wouldn’t call them kind considering the circumstances, in fact, you’re barely on speaking terms with them outside of public obligations.
Was it petty? Yes.
Was it also justified? Yes.
You figured that icing them out for a while would help them come to their senses. If worst comes to worst, maybe it could help you gain further control over the wedding.
Nevertheless, you were still upset with them.
“They’re really not that great, and I’d say that I’m pretty good with parents,” You avoid his glance to look out the window instead, taking in the sights of the country.
You don’t have many memories of Arinorin. Many of them were informed by meetings that you couldn’t even remember anymore.
“You’re right. The nation’s sweetheart can charm anyone. Plus it’ll give me time to think about what we’re gonna do on the date,” He affirms with a nod of his head.
“God, don’t remind me. If I’m lucky, we’ll be meeting at a strip club.” You roll your eyes.
“You really have no faith in me!” He pouts. You don’t give into him though.
“It's hard enough just being in a car with you.”
Soonyoung doesn’t ever have to think about first dates.
In fact, he doesn’t think he’s been on a proper first date since he was a teenager. Even then, it was low stakes. He could just pick something random for him and another girl to do, and it would be completely inconsequential to his life.
Now, impressing his future wife with an incredible first date feels monumental. He barely knew anything about you besides that goody two shoes personality of yours. It seemed like everyone was suddenly obsessed with you and he was the last to know.
He decides that a midday picnic is inoffensive enough for the both of you to enjoy. If either of you were miserable with each other, there would at least be good food to distract from it. The sunny weather was already on his side, now he just had to charm you.
You waved slightly as you approached his picnic blanket, stopping before your feet could cover the edge of the blanket.
“Wow, this is a lot,” Your eyes landed on the assortment of food spread across the blanket. There was a spread of fruit, snacks, and sandwiches for the two of you to eat together. Soonyoung knew he didn’t completely fuck up by the way you nodded, but you weren’t exactly jumping to praise him in general.
“I don’t get a hello?” He attempts a greeting but it falls flat.
You roll your eyes. “Hi, Soonyoung,” You state halfheartedly, crossing your arms in protest.
“Hi. Does the food look alright?” He takes off his sunglasses and fixes his gaze on you.
“Yeah, I figured you’d be inept at setting up a date, so it’s surpassed my expectations already,” You give him a tight-lipped smile before sitting on the blanket. He attempts to ignore the way your dress hikes up slightly to expose your thigh. The sundress that you’re wearing seems to expose every detail of your body that he’s neglected to look at, but he snaps back into focus when he hears you clear your throat.
Once you both start eating, it’s clear how little you have in common with each other. Sure, he figured it’d be a little difficult to get to know you, but the lingering silence doesn’t exactly make him eager to strike up a conversation.
“How do you feel about all this?” You ask suddenly. It catches him so off guard that he chokes on the piece of fruit he was chewing.
He coughs, raising the attention of the nearby guards. You turn to them, giving a signal that he’s okay before turning around. “Damn, I didn’t think the question was that bad,” You laugh sadly.
“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect it.” He waves off any suspicion.
He takes a deep breath. “I mean, I’m not thrilled. I know the economic aspect of this is the most important thing, but my parents are practically dying to marry me off,” He reaches for a bottle of wine, grabbing a nearby glass before pouring himself something to drink.
“So I’m not the first?” You ask.
“Absolutely not,” He snickers. This relationship would mark the 5th time his parents have tried to set him up with a fellow royal. He has managed to sabotage all previous attempts on account of pissing his parents off.
The girls they set him up with were nice enough, but he had no chemistry with any of them. He felt like sparing them from a relationship full of misery by ruining it before it even started.
“So your parents figured you wouldn’t want to escape a marriage instead of just dating?” You attempt to clarify.
“Bingo,” He sips his wine before handing you the bottle.
“So, does that mean you’re gonna try to escape this?” You accept it and pour yourself a fuller glass, immediately taking a sip after asking the question.
“I think you’d be pretty fucked if I tried to do that. I’m not that much of an asshole,” He shakes his head and laughs it off. Since being hated by his parents was bad enough, Soonyoung didn’t want to become the center of an emerging geopolitical crisis.
It would fuck everyone over, especially you. He could at least admit to himself that you didn’t deserve that.
“That’s nice, I guess,” You smile halfheartedly at him.
“Don’t say I never did anything for you.” He speaks in an unusually flat tone before turning away to face the view of sprawling hills and seemingly endless mountaintops. The sight of the burgeoning nature surrounding the houses below him brought a sense of peace.
Before you asked, he hadn't given the entire arranged marriage process much thought. Sure, he knew that you’d be getting married relatively soon, but he had no idea how to present himself as a good partner. He didn’t exactly know how to move forward knowing that everyone expected him to fail.
“You really are a dickhead,” You mumble.
“You’re not exactly sweet as pie either. Everyone loves you, but you’re fucking miserable to be around.” He responds in a piercing tone.
“Well, if you get to be a cunt, then so should I. It’s not like I’m getting anything out of this,” You shoot back.
You were definitely worse off as an only child. Sure, he was the black sheep of the family, but he could get away with plenty of things as the youngest. His siblings were off impressing the world by ruling the country, getting PhDs, having a shit ton of kids, and generally being upstanding citizens.
However, it didn’t make sense for him to try that hard.
“Your country’s finances won’t go to shit, isn’t that enough?”
His question seems to bring out another layer of frustration for you. “No, I want a husband who gives two shits about me past my bra size, but apparently that’s wishful thinking,” You angrily bite into a strawberry and turn away from him.
“Look, we don’t have to do anything except pretend that we’re in love. So, let’s not do anything past that. Alright?” He proposes. Your face is unreadable, but the way you chew on the inside of your lip shows that he’d never get to know what’s eating away at you.
“Alright,” Your body language seems to retreat completely.
The mood of the date is different after that, and his request seems to render you both silent as you eat the rest of the food without interacting. The view of the countryside makes him wish that he didn’t have to deal with any of this, just live in a tiny house where no one had to remind him about his impending marriage.
The entire day leading up to the Youth Summit Ball left you feeling incredibly rattled.
You know the staff is perfectly capable of executing your vision for the ball as they've done year after year. It was one of your signature events as a royal, and its annual presence in Maritria brought much-needed attention to the country with the presence of young royals and its ever-popular red carpet.
Tonight, however, would be the first time Soonyoung is escorting you as a “longtime” boyfriend in public. You’ve been seen together in public, yes, but this is a public declaration that you are hypothetically in love with him. As a co-chair of the event, nothing could go wrong since many of your peers would be attending with their families.
Nothing could go wrong, thus you needed him to know the extent of your anxiety.
You heard a knock on the door, and you’re accepting them inside without a second thought.
“You wanted to see me?” He asks as he steps inside the dressing room.
You’re thrown by how handsome he looks. You argued with each other over text about what he should wear, he insisted that it didn’t matter. Yet, your color palettes were not to be betrayed. You internally thank yourself for persisting with a navy suit. It contrasted well with his platinum-blonde hair that seemed to attract as many eyes as possible while you were out in public together.
“Yes, I did. You need to behave tonight, I’m not risking anything because you want to get your dick wet,” You scoff.
“Trust me, I already got this little lecture from your mother. I’ll be fine.” He smirks at you, not doing much to quiet the anxiety that was starting to build in your stomach.
“Well, your girlfriend is telling you herself that I’m serious about this,” Your hands automatically move up to his shoulders, smoothing out the nonexistent creases on his jacket. It was still weird to call yourself his girlfriend, the word felt too stiff coming from your mouth.
“And I’m reluctantly listening,” He moves his hand to your bare shoulder, brushing something off with a few light sweeps. You opted to wear a black form fitting gown, the design was relatively simple but it was still eye-catching. You thought you noticed Soonyoung taking glances at you.
“Do you remember everything I told you about tonight?” You remind him.
“Why wouldn’t I remember, Y/N?” He gives you that “are you serious” kind of look and you’re starting to buckle under the pressure.
“I don’t know, maybe you’re nervous or something,” You turn away from him, peering into the mirror to check if there are any flaws with your makeup.
“I don’t get nervous about stuff like this. Are you nervous?” You see him approaching, but you put your focus immediately back on your face.
“What? No, stop, I’m fine,” You purse your lips to check your lipstick. He mimics you, pushing his lips out like a duck and it startles you.
“Those cheeks of yours are telling me otherwise,” He rubs a finger on your cheek and you slap it away almost immediately.
“Stop, Soonyoung, I’m serious. Let’s just get through the night.” You shoot him a warning look and he puts his hands up defensively.
“Okay, no funny business. I promise,” He smiles. It’s not enough to convince you, but your mind is too focused on creating a good outcome for the night that it’s fruitless trying to argue with him any further.
“Ready for a good time?” He offers his hand out to you, and you reluctantly accept it.
“It sounds bad when you say it.”
“You know, she said we should kiss just once to see what it’s like,” His voice was slightly slurred as if the alcohol was slowly taking possession of his words.
“You’re just tipsy,” You throw your purse across the living room and fumble to lock the door shut.
“No, you are, I saw you sneak two shots out of the kitchen,” He points with a shocked smile, “plus a few glasses of chardonnay. You’re not fooling me, princess.”
He was probably right, but that didn’t make it any better. “God forbid that I wanna drink at my own event. Why are you at my place right now?” You’re irritated at his presence almost constantly.
“You wanted me to do everything for you, remember? So you could just hop into bed with no worries,” He waves his arm into the air.
The event went well, accounting for your drunkenness and Soonyoung’s unpredictable nature.
“What are you waiting for then? Take my shoes off,” You flail your arms helplessly, your body is slowly slumping forward but Soonyoung catches you before you stumble.
“Okay, let's sit down, miss bossy. You’re ordering me around when I was a perfect boyfriend tonight,” He guides you to your couch, slowly easing you down onto the seat when you let out an audible sigh of relief.
“You were an average boyfriend who didn’t look stupid in front of paparazzi. Don’t feel too proud of yourself.” Your tolerance for his shenanigans was lower than usual now that you were drunk, and you didn’t feel bad about fighting back at him.
“All of this is extra credit,” He tries to reason himself out of the bare minimum.
“Taking care of me is not extra credit, it’s the standard. You’re supposed to be taking care of me for the rest of my life, not just right now. Idiot,” You roll your eyes and close them briefly before his voice forces you awake again.
“You’re so mean to me, your poor boyfriend is still learning what you like,” He finally takes off your heels and you let out a deep sigh of relief.
“Better?” He asks with a smile. You know that he wants to laugh at you so badly, but you’re too far gone to care.
“Much better,” You close your eyes for a moment before snapping again. “Take off my jewelry.”
He removes your earrings quite easily, but you still feel a bit flustered when he leans toward your ear to focus on undoing the clasps of your necklace.
He settles his face near your neck to fully remove your diamond necklace, he cradles it in his hand and you think you might go slightly insane. He places it on the coffee table gently and looks back at you with a smirk.
“What’s going on?” You pick up on his expression.
“Nothing, I’m gonna do your hair.” He turns your body so your back is facing him now. He’s sort of just feeling around for bobby pins, placing them down on the coffee table whenever he pulls another out. Once he takes out the decorative pins near the top of your head, your hair finally feels free.
“Soonyoung?” You ask suddenly.
“Hmm?” He’s organizing all the hairpins but takes a moment to look up at you.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” Your voice is a bit timid, nervous about how he might react. You would’ve contained yourself in any other circumstance, but now you just needed to head that you were worth complimenting.
“Where’s all this coming from, you’re just fishing for compliments now,” He shakes his head with a smile on his face.
“No, I’m not. It’s just-,” Your thoughts trail off, but Soonyoung catches your attention again with a gentle hand on your thigh. You don’t jump to move it away.
“Everybody was looking at us, but some people looked at us like I wasn’t meant to be with you. Is that true? Am I not pretty enough to be with you?” You feel increasingly insecure the more you elaborate. You didn’t think you’d feel this upset about it, but it meant your work was failing. You weren’t a believable couple and it was obvious to you now.
“Y/N, don’t say that. You’re beautiful,” His voice is noticeably softer.
“Not beautiful enough to sleep with. You wouldn’t sleep with me,” You rub your eyes with your hands and Soonyoung removes them from your face, laughing at the traces of makeup on the sides of your fingers. It seems like he still caught what you said though when he stops laughing.
“And that’s not the point. You’re just saying shit now, all of the guys in there would be lucky to even kiss you,” He insists. He stands up suddenly and walks toward your room. You assume he gets up to find makeup wipes, but you sit with his statement in the meantime.
You contemplate if you’d even want to kiss any of the royals who came to the party. You knew your standards were high and wondered if that would chase them off before they even had a chance to kiss you. He comes back and immediately wipes across your face the moment he sits down. His approach is slightly rough, but you couldn’t exactly get mad at him. He was just doing what you asked of him.
He’s analyzing if he got all of the makeup off when you speak up.
“But you’re not lucky?” You remark quietly.
That makes him clear his throat. You can even spot a hint of blush across his cheeks. It appears that you’ve riled him up slightly.
“I am lucky,” He lowers his head to rub the back of his neck with his hand, “You give me a run for my money.”
“Show me how lucky you are.” You continue to tempt him to see how he’ll react.
“I thought you wanted me to behave tonight?” He’s almost willing to act, but he still waits for your approval.
“I do, but she said we should kiss for practice,” You swallow lightly in anticipation. He rests his forehead against yours and you can hear his breath hitch in his throat.
You’ve been good, you’ve been so good all of your life. You don’t think you’ve done anything worth batting an eye at for your entire adolescence and young adulthood, but it was exhausting.
It was exhausting to be good, the voice of reason, the example of a perfect daughter to your country.
You weren’t in love with him, absolutely not.
Yet, the curiosity about what his lips tasted like made you want to be rebellious.
“I didn’t think you heard me.” He chuckled softly.
“I did,” You nodded your head against his. Soonyoung didn’t ask for permission to be bad, he just did it. That’s what runs through your brain when your lips meet his. Neither of you move for a moment and you’re afraid that you messed up.
That is until you feel Soonyoung’s hand cradling the back of your neck. He’s tilting into the kiss and you know he’s comfortable by the way his tongue slips into your mouth.
He tastes like tequila mostly, but there’s a hint of sweetness that you suspect comes from the dessert table at the party.
It feels so much better than you expected, now you know why girls couldn’t get enough of him. Even if it is just practice, he still took it far more seriously than you expected.
You haven’t had many kisses that were worth remembering, but this was something spectacular.
You know he’s kissed people far more times than you have, but there’s still a hesitant energy there that you can’t describe.
Did you make him nervous?
He pulls away first and it surprises you. He takes a deep breath and looks at you with tired eyes.
“Just a practice kiss, right?” He whispers.
“Just practice.” You affirm, pulling your head back. You’re not sure why it felt so disappointing to not have another kiss. You were sobering up which made the realization even worse.
“I’ll leave now before you kick me out.” He stands up from the couch and you don’t follow him. He makes it to the door and turns around.
“Don’t stay up all night reading thinking you can fight a hangover, go to bed.” He points at you with a teasing finger.
“Don’t lecture me, Kwon Soonyoung.” You stand up and walk toward your bedroom, ignoring whatever expression is on his face. You don’t look back until you hear the front door shut.
He didn’t say goodbye and that was probably for the best. You didn’t need any other memory from this part of the night to linger in your brain.
You rush back to the living room to lock the door again and sulk back to your bedroom. You eye the novel on your bedside table, you left it there earlier in the day to pick up whether you ended up drunk from the party or not.
Damn, he was good.
There were now multiple days, even weeks, between your shared schedules with him, and the more time that went by after the kiss only made you want to see him again.
Of course, he was friendly to you in public, and you were both able to handle public events with ease, but
the timing left you with many questions, and one stuck out in particular.
Why was he nervous to kiss you?
Today, he requested a private schedule for the two of you before he left Maritria early next week. There was a sneaking suspicion that it was the proposal since there wouldn’t be another reason for you to be alone.
He never wants to be left alone with you, it’s all about putting on an act for others that makes it so thrilling for him.
That’s what you try to tell yourself, at least.
“You’re here,” He eyes you carefully as you approach the entrance of the private garden. He’s surrounded by endless blooms, it’s almost suffocating how romantic it’s supposed to feel.
“I’m here because you want me here,” You offer quietly.
“Right, well I don’t want to waste any time. I’m sure my princess has lots of work to do today.”
On any other day, he’d be right, but the underlying suspicion of his true intentions made you want to linger.
He grabs your hand before you have another second to contemplate your feelings.
“I know that I’m not the person you wanted this to be from, but that’s how things have turned out. We both can’t get what we want, but I want to make this a good memory for us regardless of the situation.”
He gets down on one knee before asking. “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”
His hands held a small black velvet box and he quickly opened it to reveal a stunning oval shaped diamond ring. There are definitely more carats than you've ever seen on an engagement ring, and the gold band it sits upon feels equally regal.
It almost makes you sick from how ornate and gaudy it is, but it’s yours.
“You know this is the part where you say yes,” He clears his throat.
“Give me a second,” You mumble. You can’t see his glance, instead choosing to look at the ring. Everything else felt like a game before, but this was real.
He is proposing to you, offering a ring to you to signify a love that wasn’t actually real. That kind of sappy affectionate love you dreamed of would never come to fruition, possibly for the rest of your life.
It’s a realization that is entirely too bleak for the moment.
You’re meant to be happy, but if your parents were here they’d pick apart how long it took you to respond.
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” You force a smile onto your face to appease him. It doesn’t seem like he notices the pained expression within it, only offering a content sigh.
“Great.” He rises to his feet to place the ring on the appropriate finger. It feels like it’s all over now, you can imagine the rest of your future laid ahead of you on a set path.
The thought of taking constant publicity trips as a couple, having future heirs to the throne, and the idea of bringing him into Maritria’s lineage makes you wonder if you did everything you could to save yourself.
There is no out, just you, him, and the impenetrable distance between you both.
You wonder how a couple might build a life with an unstable foundation.
“Should we kiss?” His question brings you back to your senses.
“What?”
“For the camera, we should kiss.” He points to a photographer making themselves known from a nearby bush.
You swallow the lump in your throat and nod.
This is your duty, right?
You pull him close and kiss him, trying to ignite the small spark you felt when he was at your apartment.
Yet, the feeling doesn’t come and you pull away from him gently after a few moments.
“We just need some photos for social media and then you’re free to go.” The photographer reassures you with a kind tone.
You snap into professional mode in order to speed up the process. Your hand rests on his chest, angling it slightly to show off the ring. You force a smile, trying to indulge in the fantasy of it all. Once he gets a few shots of that pose, you turn back to look into Soonyoung’s eyes.
He was unfortunately quite handsome, it’s a shame that nothing else about him could make you happy.
“What are you thinking about?” His questioning pulls you out of your head once again, but you’re not sure what to tell him.
Being honest with him means making a sweet moment uncomfortable, and lying to him means letting your pain continue to simmer.
You go for the latter, to spare everyone a difficult moment. “Nothing. The ring is beautiful,” You shift the conversation with a quiet tone in order to deflect the topic off of you. He smiles widely, his face tells you that he didn’t expect you to like it one bit.
“I let my team take the reins with it since I don’t know you that well.” He responds so earnestly, and you’re not sure if he understands how hurtful that sounds.
You take it in stride though. “Well, it’s beautiful.”
He only nods and takes a moment to adjust his suit jacket.
You watch him brush over the fabric with his hands, wondering how in the world you ended up here. Even if things were different, fate would probably still bring you into Soonyoung’s orbit in another way.
Regardless, it’s enough to make you even more upset. Once the photographer is satisfied with the variety of shots, you’re about to leave when you feel Soonyoung’s hand touch your shoulder.
“Hey.” He turns your body to face him with his hand. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand in front of him without crying.
“We’re still on for this weekend, right?”
You can’t be bothered to remember what he means, but it’s best just to agree. It’s not like you had much of a choice.
“Yeah. I’ll see you then.” You nod at him before leaving. The moment you turn your back, you can’t hold back the stray tears falling onto your cheeks. You can only hope that he can’t hear your sniffling.
Now that the proposal news was officially out, your life had an even bigger microscope on it than usual. You’re used to being judged on a public scale, however, there were millions of people who were obsessed with Soonyoung that now wanted to know every single piece of information about his new fiancée.
Your Instagram posts and tweets had an influx of new activity that you could barely keep up with, and the new attention was starting to work into every corner of your life, even the time you spent with Soonyoung.
“Can you tell your fans to stop making video edits of me?” You stuff your phone into your jacket pocket in slight annoyance. You were genuinely trying to enjoy the private dates you had with Soonyoung, even if they were heavily guarded by staff. It was only right that you treated these outings as the dates they were, opportunities to get to know him better in order to connect with him that would hopefully prevent any issues further down the line.
Today, the location of the date was your choice and the staff had elected to leave you alone in light of the proposal news. Thus, you decide to take Soonyoung to a small beach on the outskirts of Maritria’s capital city. You’ve spent many days throughout your teenage years in your favorite spot, a cove in a hidden part of the beach. You figured that it’d be smart to let him in on a few things that you enjoyed, namely one of your most treasured spots in the country.
“That means they like you, and since when are you afraid of attention?” His interest is now piqued as he places his head in his hand to face you.
“Since always, I’m not exactly a Kwon Soonyoung-level attention whore,” You scoff.
“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” He speaks in an exaggerated sad tone, accompanied by his pretending to cry. He turns his head to face you, sunglasses attempting to hide the goofiness peeking through.
“Still, I mean this is all a lot. I’m not exactly important enough to warrant 700,000 new followers.” You attempt to redirect the conversation.
As soon as the remark leaves your mouth, Soonyoung takes his sunglasses off. He looks at you with a confused glance, as if your self-deprecation was a personal attack on him.
“What are you talking about? You’re a princess and a genuinely nice one at that. That’s pretty hard to come by these days,” He compliments you. It pulls at your heartstrings very slightly, enough to absentmindedly check for a blush on your cheeks before snapping out of it.
“You wouldn’t know, you don’t see anything past the title before you sleep with these girls,” You attempt to defuse the response again, but he’s prepared.
“First of all, those days are behind me. I’m a proper engaged man now,” His thumb grazes your engagement ring and it sends a chill down your spine.
“And second, that statement is funny coming from someone who’s marrying me for financial stability,” He pokes your shoulder and you move to cover it.
“Correction, my country’s financial stability. You’ll have to get used to living here once we’re married,” You clarify.
“Who said we’re living in Maritria?” He argues instantly. You let out a sigh and try to understand the perspective he’s going to bring up.
“Soonyoung, wouldn’t it be smart to show how much the country’s condition would improve with you here?”
“Yes, but imagine being in Arinorin. The optics of giving you away to the country that saved yours seem pretty positive to me.” He suggests. While idealistic, the perspective is shortsighted. He didn’t necessarily have a shining future back in his home country considering his reputation and lack of communication with his parents.
“Even though you’ll never be king?” You didn’t mean for the question to sound so mean, but it’s true.
He was not the country’s future king, not unless there were dire circumstances that would force him into the position.
He scoffs. “Way to rub it in.” He looks into the distance, not acknowledging your glance anymore.
“I’m just saying. At least here, you’ll have the chance to have more of the public’s attention. There’s nothing to fight over, it’s just me,” You add sympathetically.
There’s a lingering silence that you don’t want to fill for the moment. You can tell he’s mulling over your words by the way he’s looking down at his hands, playing with his sunglasses idly.
“You know, you don’t have to stay there. Not to be that person, but if the idea of staying makes you feel worse, then what’s the point?” You soften your tone in an attempt to bring him back.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” He shakes his head resolutely. You feel your window of opportunity to try and comfort him closing rapidly.
“Ok, you’re right, but I’ve kept up with the news. I know a bit about how my future in-laws have treated you. You’ll be okay here,” You place a hand on his shoulder.
“I think they’ve wanted me to leave for a while, honestly. I’d go somewhere where they don’t have to think about me anymore.” He scratches the back of his neck before focusing on a small tidepool that sat directly below the both of you.
His statement is enough to now squeeze his shoulder, gently rubbing it to show your support.
“I’m sorry.” You offer quietly.
“It’s not your fault. I don’t think being a problem child fits me very well anymore.”
“You can reinvent yourself here if that sounds alright with you?” You offer and he laughs quietly.
He smirks. “I’ll think about it,” His slightly hopeful tone makes you feel at ease.
Any true affection toward him still feels too foreign, but verbal reassurance is a step you’re willing to take if it means your shared future is relatively peaceful.
The trips back and forth to each other’s countries were becoming a blur of wedding planning, being present at each other’s public engagements, and trying to get to know each other. It was becoming such a tedious process that any opportunity to rest was taken without hesitation.
The big plan for the current trip to Arinorin was to have a joint dinner with both of your immediate families.
You waited endlessly, but Soonyoung never showed up for dinner. It was embarrassing trying to subtly figure out where he was by going to the bathroom and frantically texting him. When that didn’t work, calls went unanswered until you were forced to give up and return to the table in defeat. He wasn’t answering and you were left to deal with two confused families on your own, attempting to answer questions that you had no answers to. Dinner eventually proceeded with an unyielding amount of attention on you, but thankfully, the rest of his family seemed to accept you.
Yet, it was ultimately embarrassing to attempt to cover his tracks and defend his actions throughout the night.
Thus, your post-dinner plans were to relax in your room and attempt to forget how wild the night had been. A knock on the door interrupted those plans almost immediately.
You open the door to see one of the guards that have been assigned to you since the arranged marriage proceedings had begun.
“Sorry to bother you, princess. I’ve just received word of a disturbance with the prince downstairs that needs your attention.” His tone was especially solemn, so you didn’t want to leave him waiting for long.
“Alright, I’ll be ready in a minute.” You nod at him and thank your lucky stars that you’ve already changed into more comfortable clothing.
With his assistance, you were soon traveling through the endless halls of the castle to find your fiancé. It wasn’t long before he came into view, sitting on a bench with his legs tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around the front with his hands clasped tight. He was clearly drunk, sighing to himself before looking up.
“Y/N! Hi!” He exclaims, waving at you wildly.
“Fucking hell,” You exhale under your breath. You’re extremely grateful that he wasn’t out wandering the streets, clearly under careful watch by his guards.
“Can you give us a moment?” You look around at the surrounding guards. They nod curtly and dismiss themselves, retreating to a nearby room where they could still intervene quickly if needed.
You turn your attention back to him once the door closes. “Where were you?”
“I was out with Seungkwannie and, um, Seokmin. It was so much fun,” He laughed brightly, eyes almost disappearing from his smile.
“We were supposed to have dinner with our families. Remember?” You hold onto your curt tone.
He shakes his head immediately. “They didn’t wanna see me, they don’t care about me.”
You were starting to lose your patience. While you understood his hesitation to face his family, it wasn’t an excuse to leave you to navigate so many different dynamics on your own. This was supposed to show your families all of the efforts that had been made thus far, and there were plenty of efforts that were beginning to show naturally.
He had become more affectionate in public, it was less uncomfortable to smile at him and speak with each other kindly. It wasn’t real, obviously not, but unsuspecting eyes wouldn’t have known any better.
You were almost visibly in love.
“How about how I feel, Soonyoung? I had to deal with everyone alone, deal with everything by myself. That was so hard for me, but you just ignored it and got drunk.” Your voice was tight, barely allowing yourself to feel anything besides anger.
“I’m sorry,” He sighs before running through his hair. He’s affected by it, as his posture starts to wilt like a dying plant.
“You should be. That hurt my feelings a lot,” You felt the intended venom of your words dissipate on your tongue until nothing was left.
What was the point in yelling when he wouldn’t remember any of it anyways?
Honestly, you were disappointed in him. You had earnestly tried to connect with him, and it finally felt like he was trying to do the same thing. Yet, he let you down. You didn’t ask for much of him and adjusted your expectations for him at every step of the way, but he couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t be better for you.
“Was being selfish,” His pout seems to get deeper somehow.
“Yeah, you were,” You whisper. You finally take a seat next to him on the bench, taking a deep breath. The silence between the two of you almost felt labored, as if the air held all of the emotions you were both feeling at once.
You shouldn’t be babysitting your fiancé like this, that much was true. If he couldn’t even attend a family dinner, what did that mean for the marriage?
“You don’t have to worry about the wedding. I’ll take care of everything,” You mutter quietly.
“What?” He sits up in surprise.
“I can’t trust you, Soonyoung. You don’t care about this and you clearly don’t care about me, so why would I let you plan any part of this?”
“I can try, just let me try,” He pleads quietly. You can feel the desperation in his tone, but you can’t budge.
“I’ve let you try and this is what happens. I don’t know if this is how you picture our marriage, but if this is it then consider us strangers. I can’t do this, not like this.” You can’t look at him as you stand up.
Your body goes into autopilot as you knock on the door where the guards are stationed, letting them out so you can both separate for the night. You gently request for him to be taken home before starting the journey back to your room, wiping away tears that welled up in your eyes without a second thought.
You hear him calling your name, but what point is there in turning around? You didn’t have the energy for drunk pleas and broken promises anymore.
If you couldn’t stop everything and everyone from falling apart, you could at least try to protect yourself from the wreckage.
For the first time, Soonyoung hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.
It never felt good to be ignored by anyone, but getting ignored by you? It had to be a new kind of pain.
Despite his unbothered facade, he didn’t mind your company at all. He quite enjoyed your little quirks, small things that other people probably wouldn’t notice.
In the chaos of your intertwined schedules, there were moments where he’d just look at you to take in your features for himself, and not anyone else.
He loved seeing how peaceful you looked while you slept during flights or the way your cheeks lifted when you smiled. Since he couldn’t have you to himself often, he could hold solace in the smaller moments.
Admittedly, he had been in love with you for a while now, and he could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized it.
He mentioned to you offhandedly that he’d lost a beloved stuffed tiger toy as a kid, but he’d accepted the loss and attempted to move on. He didn’t think you’d remember the anecdote, much less do anything about it.
Yet, you handed him a silver gift bag while on a flight with him.
When he unwrapped the tissue paper to the sight of the exact make of the tiger he had, his heart momentarily stilled in awe.
“I found the original manufacturer and they still make them. The certain model you had is a collector’s item now, so it took a little while to find but it wasn’t impossible.” You explained everything calmly, your hand propped your head up on the armrest of your seat. You lazily smiled at him as he admired it in his hands.
“This is very kind of you, thank you,” He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.
His parents hadn’t thought of trying to replace it for him after all these years, and he surely didn’t expect it from you. The gesture is just so romantic, even if you just wanted to write it off as simply a nice thing to do.
He didn’t cry until he was alone after the day’s activities were finished, realizing just how important it was to him. You were so nice, much nicer than he deserved from his future wife given his standoffish behavior.
There was no reason why he couldn’t confess his true feelings to you at this point. The wedding was fast approaching, sooner than he’d like to admit.
Details about the ceremony were quickly ironed out between your shared staff before he could think twice about asking, and you held to your word that he wasn’t allowed to get involved in wedding planning.
He didn’t remember much from the night you found him drunk, but it was clear that wedding planning was off-limits and you were extremely wary of being alone with him. Thus, he had to make his apology meaningful, and he couldn’t wait until after the wedding. He was determined to mend the relationship before you walked down the aisle.
He started by sending you various bouquets, all carefully chosen by him.
That was a kind gesture, right?
He thought so until he saw you throwing one of the bouquets into a dumpster from afar.
All of his apologetic texts to you were swiftly ignored as well, forcing him to switch gears completely. It was clear that you were subtly hinting at an in-person apology, which was daunting but not impossible for him to do.
He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the night of the Youth Summit Ball, a major oversight on his part. Yet, he figured there was no better time than the present to start taking things more seriously.
He held the bouquet of white and red carnations tightly in his hand, fingers playing gently with the paper wrapping as he sat in his car.
He was optimistic that the rain would hold out until he was hopefully let into your apartment. Yet, he ignored the raindrops periodically hitting his raincoat as he walked up the stairs to your brownstone.
The moment he knocked on the door, it was as if the universe decided to fuck him over. The occasional raindrops turned into a full downpour, and he scrambled to figure out what to do with himself. There wasn’t any awning to hide under, so he attempted to conceal the flowers from the rain, unzipping his jacket enough to sit the damp bouquet on his chest before zipping it up again.
It felt like a lifetime before you opened the door, and the sight of you rendered him speechless.
This was the first time in so long that he was facing his fear of resolving the neverending conflicts in his life.
“Hi.” He smiles despite your unreadable expression.
“Hi,” You were confused, rightfully so. After passive-aggressively sending indirect apologies, he decided to skip everything else and just show up.
“Are you busy?”
“No, but I don’t think I have a choice,” You move to the side so that he can enter your apartment. He takes the cue and makes himself comfortable in the living room.
“These are for you.” He hands the flowers to you, and the hesitancy is clear on your face.
“You aren’t giving up on the flowers, are you?” You ask with a judgmental tone. He doesn’t feel completely deterred when you place them on the dining table instead of throwing them out.
“Well, these are your favorite.”
“This doesn’t bail you out, you know.” You give him a knowing look.
He sighs, steadying his breath before speaking. “I know, and you deserve an apology for everything.” When he notices that you're focusing intently on his words, he feels confident about continuing.
“I know that I’ve made you feel isolated, and I’m truly sorry for that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this, and I want to make this marriage work. You deserve to marry someone who’s willing to admit their mistakes and grow with you. I’m ready to be that person if you want me.” By the time he finishes, he knows that he was completely honest with you. He’s wanted to be upfront with you for so long, but it wouldn’t have been worth it if he didn’t express himself properly.
You let out a contemplative sigh. He could tell that you didn’t want to reject him, it’s as if your face was processing his statement just as swiftly as your brain.
“As much as I appreciate this, I don’t want to be in a loveless marriage.” You said.
He swallows lightly, but he’s still understanding of your perspective. He knew that he had to lay everything out for you before it was too late.
“Who said it was loveless?” He says.
“What?”
The revelation seems to catch you off guard, but it's not surprising to him. Soonyoung is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, and this kind of confession feels completely out of his emotional range.
“I love you, and I should've told you sooner. I regret not proving that you could trust me, and you have every right to not have any faith in me.” He walks toward you, internally pleading that the lack of distance will help you change your mind.
“I do have the right,” You mutter under your breath with a chuckle. He lifts your chin slightly with his finger, forcing your eyes to meet his again.
“I will prove to you every day for the rest of my life that I love you.” His eyes are completely sincere, showing that he’s willing to provide the romance that you’ve been grasping for. He can tell that you can’t let him in this easily, he has to earn you completely.
“Every day?” You question him.
“Every single day,” He reiterates. He means it too, his mind was already thinking of dozens of ways that he could start making it up to you.
“That’s pretty tempting, honestly.” You tilt your head in curiosity.
“Anything holding you back?”
“I don’t think so. You just can’t keep coming into my apartment soaking wet anymore,” You scrunch your nose at his appearance and gently tousle his hair, earning a giggle from him.
“That wasn’t planned. It was pretty romantic though, right?” He can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face as he asks.
“A little bit. I forgive you, by the way,” You admit.
He exhales and runs a hand through his hair with shaky confidence. He couldn’t be certain of your decision, so the relief he feels at your words is palpable.
“Does that mean I get to see all the spreadsheets about the wedding now?” He knew he was testing his luck by asking, especially because the process had been under lock and key even before restricting his access to wedding-related documents.
“Yeah, it’ll take some stress off my back. It’s giving me headaches just thinking about everything coming together,” You rub your forehead and close your eyes for a moment before looking back at him.
“You’ve been stressed like this and you haven’t told me?” He frowns.
“I was mad at you, so all my other feelings just kept building up. I’m sorry,” You shake your head, immediately covering your face with your hands. He pries them off just as quickly, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.
“It’s okay, love. I am more than willing to help you, I promise,” He nods eagerly with a grin.
“Okay. I like that name, you know,” You finally crack a smile and his own smile widens.
“Figured you would.” He’s leaned closer to your face, but there’s enough space to move away in case you reject him. “Can I kiss you?” He asks gently.
“Please,” You whisper.
It’s all he needs to complete the distance between your lips and the feeling of you is almost overwhelmingly beautiful. He’s so lucky at this moment, feeling your hands push his head deeper into the kiss. He was too cautious last time, but now he’ll never take another kiss of yours for granted, not when it feels this good.
He would do anything to make sure you felt loved and cared for, no matter how long it took to earn your full trust.
“I just need a moment alone, if that’s alright?” The question comes out a bit shakier than you imagined, but you can’t seem to quiet your nerves. Your wedding day has already taken you on an emotional rollercoaster despite not going down the aisle yet.
As you view yourself in the gown that you meticulously picked out along with the detailed hair and makeup that took hours to complete, nothing looks out of place.
Yet, your heart feels unanchored.
Your relationship with Soonyoung was getting better every day, but it seems like it was all going a little too well. Even though your relationship was transforming from a state of emergency into a promising romance, it was all catching up to you at the moment. Your mutual efforts to improve your relationship had been fruitful, giving you both the confidence to get married without feeling insecure.
You wouldn’t regret it, right? You needed to be certain that you wouldn’t.
“Of course, Princess.” Your head staff member agrees without question before exiting the room along with a few team members who were assisting you for the past few hours.
Your brain can only think of him. The tradition of spending the night before the wedding apart from each other felt more like torture than anything else, as you’ve come to appreciate his comforting presence next to you. In the last few weeks leading up to the wedding, he’s made such a genuine effort to intertwine your lives together that spending time apart felt futile.
A knock on the door breaks you out of your trance. Before you can ask who’s there, Soonyoung’s voice fills the silence.
“Is it a bad time?” His voice makes your heart flutter before you can even look at him.
“You can’t see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck,” You attempt to fight the smile on your face but you don’t allow yourself to look at him.
“Even if my bride has cold feet?” He presses on, his footsteps quietly approaching you.
You turn to reveal yourself to him and his face lights up.
“They’re not cold, they’re lukewarm,” You smile coyly at him. He grabs your hands and scans your body with wondrous eyes, his gaze seeming to land on every detail of the dress before meeting your eyes again.
“You look so,” His voice trails off. You’re sure that you can read his mind, he’s practically grinning from ear to ear. It makes you feel a bit shy, you can feel your cheeks heat up from his complimentary words.
“You’re really inflating my ego here,” You shake your head gently, but the feeling of his hand grazing your cheek pulls your gaze to him. Despite your best efforts, it’s still hard to fight the inner voice that tells you that he doesn’t mean it, that he’s only saying it because it’s something you want to hear.
Yet, his responses are just unflinchingly earnest that it makes you wonder why you ever felt that way in the first place.
“You just look so stunning,” His voice begins to shake before he clears his throat, “I just can’t believe that you’re mine.”
You were certain that you’d never seen that much sincerity in his eyes up until now, but it started to quiet the lingering fears that still sat in the pit of your stomach. He was absolutely smitten with you, to the point where his smile didn’t go away while you were talking to him.
“You can’t cry yet, you have to save it for the cameras.” You chuckle in an effort to push away his tears, but his eyes were still glossy.
“I can’t help it. You’ve worked really hard on all of this and it’s coming together so well,” He sighs with content. Honestly, you needed to hear that it was all worth it, especially from him. Although he’d been offering reassurance more often than not, the sentiment felt different knowing that you were minutes away from getting married.
“I wanna kiss you so badly, but I can’t fuck up my makeup.” You pout. He instinctively places his hands on your shoulders, moving them up and down to make you feel grounded with his touch.
“We can kiss, you know. There are no rules to any of this.” He attempts to get you out of your tradition-focused mindset with a low tone. You do want to indulge him though, considering that this was the first time you'd been alone with him all morning.
“Just go below the mouth.” You nod and he smirks, immediately placing his lips on your jaw to see how you’d react. It pulls a soft moan from your throat, and your reaction encourages him to go down your neck, leaving kisses wherever his lips can find skin. You started to let go of the responsibilities lingering over your head and focus on your fiance’s tongue leaving open-mouth kisses on your cleavage.
He’s practically doing everything but undressing you and his eagerness makes it harder to pull away, but you have to.
“Babe,” You whisper.
“Hmm?”
“Later,” You have to hold onto your resolve or else you’ll give in, and you can’t let your first time be in a dressing room.
“Later?” His eyes perk up like an excited puppy. The implication of the consummation of your marriage feels daring, it will serve as the reward after dealing with the decadent fanfare of the day.
“Yes, later. I promise.” You nod and he somehow looks even happier than before he walked in. He focuses on your lips but leaves a kiss on your cheek instead.
“I’ll see you out there, okay?” He presses one last kiss to your palm before heading towards the door.
“Okay,” You wave him off and watch him disappear with a smile on your face.
It’s clear that you don’t have anything to worry about.
“You’re sure that you don’t wanna come in with me?” Soonyoung calls from the pool.
“Yeah,” You nod with a hand placed above your eyes, acting as a sun visor since you couldn’t find a hat to put on.
You were two days into your honeymoon, tucked away at a small island resort that mostly isolated you from the outside world.
The wedding had thankfully gone far better than you could have imagined. He stopped you multiple times throughout the reception to tell you how beautiful it was, how happy he was to be in the moment with you, and how well you planned it all. It was a day that felt sun-soaked, enveloped in a love that was starting to soften and lose the sharp edges that had restrained it before.
Despite all of the kind attention from family and friends throughout the day, it was evened out with the constant presence of staff and castle officials that made it all a bit overwhelming.
Thankfully, the honeymoon began the next day and you’d have to force all responsibilities out of your head for the next week.
“You’re thinking about something, probably too many things,” He assumes correctly.
You scoff and turn away for a moment before facing him again. “You can’t be this good at analyzing me, we’ve only been married for less than a week.”
He laughs before swimming closer to the edge of the pool to meet you. “That’s my job, angel.”
“But you’re right, I am thinking too much about you moving in and all the press stuff we have to do,” You’re rubbing at your temples just thinking about how much effort it’s all going to take.
“Hey, look at me.” He calls out softly. You reluctantly place your hands at your sides, trying to take in his words.
“You’ll have plenty of time to worry about this, but this is the only time you’ll be on your honeymoon. Hopefully,” He shows his teeth and it succeeds in making you laugh. He smiles back at you before continuing.
“So maybe we can swim together if you’d like?” He tries again, knowing you’ll say yes. You take one last sigh and nod.
“Yeah, just give me a second.” You take your coverup off to reveal a solid black bikini he hadn’t seen yet. You discard the coverup on a nearby chair before turning to face him.
He eyes you for a moment before you clear your throat. “Slow down, loverboy, we’re supposed to be swimming!”
“Just admiring how beautiful my wife is, that’s all,” He bites back a smile but ultimately lets it show. You walk down the pool stairs until you’re swimming next to him. He only stares at you for a second before pulling you in for a kiss.
You’re caught off guard, letting out a small squeak when his tongue slides into your mouth but you give in to the feeling soon enough. You let your fingers card through the back of his hair, pushing yourself further into the kiss. You feel his hands wander across your ass and you let out a moan.
“Just wanted me in here so you could fuck me?” You whisper, finally pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath.
“You caught me,” He whispers back and proceeds to kiss down your neck, not hesitating to leave marks that force moans out of your throat.
“For fuck’s sake,” You sigh. You didn’t need to have control right now, you didn’t want it when he was making you feel this good just by kissing you. You thank your lucky stars that the vacation house is somewhat isolated because you can’t pretend to hold back the noises you’re making.
He picks up on this and presses his erection against your thigh, causing you to hold your breath. “Where do you want me, sweetheart?” He asks quietly. Your train of thought can’t even start because he’s staring right at you, brushing his thumb against your lip.
“Chairs,” You mutter. He bites his lip and turns to look at the unoccupied beach chairs lined up near the sliding glass door that leads back into the house.
“Okay,” He nods. He leads you back to the pool stairs before taking your hand and helping you out of the water. You both don’t think about drying off before he sits you down onto the chair, pulling off your bikini bottom without a second thought. You watch him with spread legs, taking in the sight of his glistening chest and abs. He seemed just as eager as you, taking off his swim trunks in the blink of an eye. The sight of his cock makes your head spin, so you force yourself to make eye contact with him.
“Are you okay, baby?” He asks earnestly. He must not know how hot he is because you’re rendered speechless. His freshly dyed black hair is slightly spiky, and it doesn’t help when he runs his hand through it. It all just goes to your clit, and you’re certain that the pressure will make you explode.
“Yeah, I’m good,” You force your mouth into a smile to replace the incredulous look on your face. He nods and settles into the space between your legs, quickly spreading hands across your thighs.
“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” His eyes are practically dripping with lust, but you want to let him know that the feeling is mutual.
“Yeah, maybe for the 100th time today, but you look even prettier,” Your compliment comes out a bit shy, but it still makes his eyes light up.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” He lets his thumb graze your clit and you whimper. He lingers there for a few more moments before dragging two fingers down your entrance. He ponders for a moment before pushing inside, and the new sensation makes you cry out. The angled position of the chair makes his movements feel even more powerful, and his fingers gliding against your tight walls already have you in shambles.
“It’s not possible because you’re the prettiest person in the world, and I get all your cute noises to myself, right?” His question makes the coil in your stomach harder to ignore.
“Yeah,” You moan. He leans in for a kiss, capturing your lips easily while thrusting his fingers even deeper. How does he know your body like this? Sure, you’ve made out a few times but he's never touched you like this before.
Maybe it’s the anticipation that’s causing him to show out like this, he’s trying to impress you because of how long you’ve had to wait for this. You let your arms drape behind his neck for a moment before clutching onto his back.
You hear him moan from the scratches you leave on the expanse of his back, you savor the noises as they start to blend in with your moans.
“Gonna cum,” You breathe into his ear. He can tell how tense you are around him, and your eyes are becoming frantic from the impending pleasure.
“Just relax baby, take a deep breath, and let go for me. I know you can do it,” His encouragement lets you cum immediately, arching your back off the chair with a soft grunt escaping your lips. Your orgasm washes over you all at once and his fingers only slow down a bit, allowing you to feel every single bit of pleasure that he could pull out of you.
You take a few deep breaths and focus on his eyes once again. You start to register his face again as he strokes your cheek. “Are you ok? Are you up for more?” He asks hesitantly.
“Yeah, I just didn’t think you’d get me like this so early, that’s all.” You cover your eyes with your hands for a moment before looking at him again. He has you so shy that you can barely look at him. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you haven’t cum like that in a very long time, but if he’s making you feel like this so early on into the marriage, you don’t think you’ll ever be disappointed.
“Well, that’s good. I just wanna take care of you,” He reassures you sweetly. His eyes are so full of love that it makes your heart pound, swallowing in anticipation.
He meant it when he said he’d take care of you, he had barely let you do anything for yourself since you arrived at the vacation house. It was so adorable that you didn’t have the heart to stop him. It was nice to let him live up to his promise of showing his love for you instead of constantly feeling distrustful of his actions.
Of course, there would eventually be moments where you’d disagree or argue with each other, but it wouldn’t be out of spite like before. You’re lost in thought until he presses a kiss to your cheek.
“Where’d you go, pretty?” He whispers, his face now a few inches away from yours. It somehow makes you even more flustered than before.
“Just thinking about how much I love you,” You admit with a smile. His eyes widen at the confession and you burst into a fit of giggles.
“You love me?” He asks in surprise.
“I love you.” You state it confidently. You mean it too, and it feels so easy to express it to him. You knew you loved him since the wedding, he cried at the sight of you walking down the aisle and it helped you realize his sincerity. He seems to let the words settle into the air before giving you a response.
“I love you too. It feels good to say that,” He laughs at his own confession. With a mutual confession out in the open, the air somehow feels lighter.
“Can I show you how much I love you by fucking you properly?” He asks. You can only laugh and nod your head at how sweet it is.
“Not out here though. I need you in bed right now!” He exclaims, sweeping you up into a bridal style hold. You let out a scream before bursting into laughter, you can only let yourself get carried back into the house without protest.
----
“Fuck, right there, please,” You whimper, eyes screwed shut. The feeling of his cock stuffed inside you was indescribably good, it was nearly enough to make you cry. Once he got you on the bed, he wasted no time filling you up and easily pulled moans out of your throat.
He pressed your legs up to your chest, making sure that he was completely inside of you. You quickly learned that your husband had incredible stamina, and you were definitely gonna cum again sooner rather than later.
“You’re so good for me, my love. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of having you like this,” He whispers in your ear. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin brought something primal out of you, you just want to suck him inside of your walls even deeper. You were barely holding on, but he kept pushing you even closer to the edge.
He leaned down to leave marks in the crook of your neck, leaving a hand free to fondle your breast. It was as if he combined every possible move just to drive you insane and it was working.
“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” His voice is laced with something even deeper than lust, it almost felt demonic the way he asked you.
“Yes, please let me cum, please,” The words spilled out of your mouth, your voice was shaking along with your body. He was practically rocking you back and forth with the impact of his cock, hitting that particular spot deeper every time.
“Go on, then. Cum for daddy,” He grants you permission. The nickname makes you flood his cock, screaming again as your orgasm takes over you. He pulls out in time for you to squirt on his cock, leaving you even more surprised than before.
“Holy shit,” You whimper. He looks so pleased with himself, but also shocked that he was able to push you that far.
He lets you both recover for a few minutes, but you know he hasn’t cum yet. “I’m kinda close, baby, is it alright if I-?” He asks, but you don’t let him finish.
“Of course. I already miss your cock, to be honest,” You let yourself smile and his eyes are already blown wide by your response.
“You’re insane, you know that?”
“You made me like this,” You hit his arm playfully. He slides his cock into you again slowly and he watches your mouth fall open slightly at the sensation.
“I did,” He smirks at you, relishing the sight of how fucked out you look just from him staying still.
He picks up the pace, trying to focus on getting himself there. It didn’t seem like it’d take much just from how intensely he looked at you.
“Gonna let me cum inside you, baby? Should I get you pregnant like this?” His questions felt sinful in your ears, but you were too gone to care. You felt pressure building just from that, and the thought of him breeding you felt exciting.
“Yes, please, I want it,” You whine. He felt so deep that you could feel it from your head to your toes. Every single part of you felt overwhelmed by his cock and his relentless pace.
“Good girl, daddy wants to fuck you like this all the time,” He moves to kiss you sloppily, but it still feels heavenly to have him in your mouth. It wasn’t much longer before you felt his body tense beneath you.
“Are you close?” You ask breathily.
“Yeah,” He grunts. He grabs your hips and fucks into you even harder than you remember, the pain radiating from your thighs forces a tear out of your eye but you know it’s helping. He doesn’t warn you before he cums, and the sudden warmth inside of you makes you moan louder than you expect. He finally falls beside you and lets you both recover for a few minutes in silence. You could easily fall asleep like this, both of you laying haphazardly under the covers while his breathing steadies your own.
“Y/N?” He calls your name and it startles you. You struggle to keep your eyes open at the sound of his voice.
“Oh no, I scared you,” His voice is much quieter than before, lulling you back into a state of calmness.
“No, I’m okay, I promise,” You turn to face him, rubbing your eyes gently.
“Ok good. We’ve gotta clean up now, alright?” He softens the blow of the question by kissing your forehead. It still feels foreign to let him take care of you, but when you see how gentle he is, you don’t feel the urge to take control.
It’s enough to watch him go through your suitcase, observing how his eyebrows furrow while trying to decide what shirt you might want to wear.
You decided that he didn’t have to prove anything else to you, ultimately, you could see how pure his heart was, and it would be doing both of you a disservice to let assumptions of character control the course of your relationship.
You’re attentive enough to follow his cues while he’s dressing you or helping you up to the bathroom, but your mind is consumed by him.
“Doing okay, love?” His question pulls your head toward him. You adjust your posture in bed as he approaches you, climbing into the bed beside you.
“Better now that you’re back,” You hum lowly, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You take a deep breath, taking in the feeling of his skin against yours.
His body vibrates as he chuckles. “I’m glad you’re alright. I was thinking about something while we were in the bathroom,” He leans into your touch slightly, enough to make your eyes flutter shut.
“What’s up?” You accept his inquiry.
“I think we should take the kids here one day when they’re old enough,” He explains it as if it’s fate, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of him being certain that your shared future is meant to expand in so many different ways. You can’t picture yourself being pregnant for a long while, but the idea of building a family with him feels right to think about.
“We’ve fucked once and you’re thinking about our kids,�� You tease him in a lighthearted tone, but you hear his nervous laughter.
“It’s just a thought,” He waves his hand gently.
“It’s a very nice thought, you’re really sweet,” You finally raise your head to look at him. You let your hand caress his cheek before kissing him gently. He accepts you immediately, and you let yourself linger on his lips for a few moments before pulling away to look at him.
He searches your eyes, focused on figuring out what you’re meant to tell him. You can’t think of anything profound to tell him, any extravagant sentimentalities you might’ve conjured up don’t make their way out onto your lips.
“I love you,” You whisper. Your feelings are buried too deep to let them all out now, but it’s enough to tell him this. You feel the pressure in your chest lessen the moment he smiles back at you.
“I love you so much,” He mumbles the words against your lips before kissing you, love seemed to radiate from his lips the way he was holding you against him. The day unfolded into the evening, time passing languidly as you were enamored with each other.
As you fell asleep with him holding onto your waist, you realized that sweetness had made its way into your life before your very eyes. The limitless potential between the two of you no longer strikes fear into your heart, but instead sustains you in new ways.
There would be time to flesh out the dynamics of your relationship, determining how you’d show up for each other in loud and unspoken ways, but the present feeling of safety that sat in your chest was enough.
Neither of you was perfect, but the act of showing up and being willing to grow with each other was enough.
You are both trying, and that is more than enough.
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its-avalon-08 · 3 months ago
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Can I request something with Lando? With a plus-size reader, where the hate gets to her too much, and she breaks up with him because the internet is hatting on her and being with Lando. Lando is so confused until like Max or someone asks if he has seen the hate, and it makes Lando go crazy at everyone for the hate to his favourite girl, and he gets her back. Please, I'll sell my kidney.🙏
don't go breaking my heart (ln4)
( bubs u don't have to sell ur kidney, here it is! hope u like it )
✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader
✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, online hate, fatphobia
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liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and others
y/nnnn seashells and splashes
200,456,446 comments
@landonorris : beautiful baby <3, so grateful you're mine ---> liked by author ❤️
@alexandrasaintmleux: stunner girl, ily <3 ---> liked by author ❤️
@hater123: I can't believe Lando is dating someone like her. Doesn't he have standards?
@trollqueen: Someone needs to hit the gym... hard. Yikes.
@f1fanatic: Lando deserves so much better. She’s just not on his level. or weight.
@bodyshamer: Wow, the beach really needs a 'no whales allowed' sign.
@toxicfan: I guess money can’t buy taste, huh, Lando?
@hatersunite: How can she even post these pictures without feeling embarrassed?
@jealousfan: Lando must be blind if he thinks she’s attractive.
@fatphobic: Imagine waking up next to that every day. Poor Lando.
@anonymoushater: Lando’s career is gonna go downhill with her dragging him down.
@judgy: Cover up, nobody wants to see that.
@meanperson: She should be ashamed of how she looks.
@bitterf1fan: Why is she even famous? Just because she’s dating Lando? Pathetic.
@envioushater: ewww, why would he even kiss her? Gross.
@bodyshamepolice: lando could do so much better than this blob.
@trollmaster: She’s just using him for fame. She doesn’t deserve him.
Y/N sat in the McLaren hospitality area, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She had been trying to ignore the hateful comments on her Instagram, but they were relentless, each one cutting deeper than the last. She scrolled through them again, her heart sinking with every cruel word.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she read the comments over and over. She had always been confident in her own skin, but the constant barrage of negativity was breaking her spirit.
Lily, Oscar Piastri's girlfriend, noticed Y/N's distress from across the room. She approached cautiously, her heart aching for her friend. "Hey, Y/N," she said softly, sitting down next to her. "Are you okay?"
Y/N didn't respond, her gaze fixed on her phone screen. Her silent sobs shook her body, and Lily could see the tears streaming down her face.
Lily gently took the phone from Y/N's hand and glanced at the screen, her own heart breaking at the sight of the hateful comments. She put the phone aside and wrapped her arms around Y/N, pulling her into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," she whispered, her voice filled with empathy. "They’re just jealous and cruel. You’re beautiful just the way you are."
Y/N buried her face in Lily's shoulder, her sobs growing louder. She felt so overwhelmed, so small in the face of such relentless hatred. "I can't do this anymore," she whispered through her tears. "I thought I was strong enough, but I’m not."
Lily held her tighter, her own eyes welling up with tears. "You are strong, Y/N. Don’t let them win. They don’t know you, they don’t know how amazing you are."
But Y/N could hardly hear Lily’s comforting words. The weight of the hate was too much, and she felt like she was drowning in it. She pulled away from Lily’s embrace, wiping her tears with shaking hands. "I need to go," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Y/N, please don’t leave like this," Lily pleaded, her concern growing. "Talk to Lando, let him help you."
But Y/N couldn’t face Lando, not now. She stood up, her legs feeling weak, and made her way to the exit. She walked out of the paddock, her heart heavy with the pain of the hateful comments, leaving behind the world she had once felt so at home in.
time skip
Lando entered their shared apartment, his usual cheerful demeanor dampened by a nagging sense of unease. The McLaren hospitality area had felt off after Y/N’s abrupt departure, and his concern had only grown since.
"Y/N?" he called out, his voice echoing through the quiet space. He spotted her in the living room, standing next to a pile of packed bags. His heart sank. "What’s going on?"
Y/N looked up, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Lando, I’m leaving."
His confusion deepened, worry etching lines into his face. "Leaving? Why? What happened?"
She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I just… I think you’ll be happier without me."
Lando’s heart pounded in his chest. "What are you talking about? I’m happy with you, Y/N. Why are you doing this?"
Tears filled her eyes again, but she blinked them back. "You deserve someone better, Lando. Someone who won’t bring you down."
He stepped closer, desperation creeping into his voice. "Y/N, you’re not bringing me down. I love you. Please, just talk to me. Tell me what’s really going on."
She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself as if to hold herself together. "I can’t, Lando. It’s better this way."
"Better for who?" he demanded, his voice breaking. "Not for me. I don’t understand. Please, Y/N, don’t do this."
She finally looked up at him, her heart breaking at the sight of his pain. "You’ll be better off without me, Lando. Trust me."
Lando felt a surge of panic. He reached out, gently taking her hand. "Please, don’t go. We can get through anything together. Just tell me what’s wrong."
Y/N pulled her hand away, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "I’m sorry, Lando. I have to go."
She grabbed her bags and walked towards the door, her heart aching with every step. Lando followed her, his own tears blurring his vision. "Y/N, please…"
She paused at the door, looking back at him one last time. "Goodbye, Lando."
With that, she stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind her. Lando stood there in stunned silence, his heart shattered into pieces. He sank to the floor, his back against the door, unable to comprehend how everything had fallen apart so quickly. He had lost the woman he loved, and he didn’t even know why.
time skip
Lando sat on the floor of his apartment, his head in his hands, tears streaming down his face. His heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest. The apartment, once filled with love and laughter, now felt unbearably empty. He replayed Y/N’s words over and over in his mind, each time trying to understand where it all went wrong.
Lando couldn't, his grief consuming him. His teammates noticed his absence and his silence. It was Carlos Sainz who finally decided to check on him.
Carlos knocked on the door, his concern deepening when Lando didn’t answer immediately. "Lando, it’s Carlos. Please open up."
After a few moments, the door creaked open, revealing a disheveled and tear-streaked Lando. Carlos’s heart sank at the sight of his friend in such a state. "Mate, what happened?"
Lando let Carlos in, the two of them sitting on the couch. "She left me, Carlos," Lando said, his voice breaking. "She said I’d be better off without her. I don’t understand why."
Carlos looked at him sympathetically. "Have you seen what’s been happening online?"
Lando shook his head, confusion mingling with his grief. "What do you mean?"
Carlos pulled out his phone, showing Lando the vile comments, the hateful edits, and the mean-spirited articles directed at Y/N. Lando’s eyes widened with horror and fury as he read through them, his heartbreak turning into a white-hot rage.
"They did this to her," Carlos said quietly. "She left because she couldn’t handle the hate."
Lando’s hands trembled with anger as he continued to read. "How could they do this to her? She didn’t deserve any of this."
Carlos placed a hand on his shoulder. "You need to speak out, Lando. This isn’t right."
Lando nodded, his resolve hardening. "I’m not going to let them get away with this."
He grabbed his phone, his fingers shaking as he typed out a message on social media. His anger and pain poured into his words:
"To all my so-called 'fans' who have been spewing hate towards Y/N, this needs to stop. She didn’t deserve any of this. She is the most amazing person I have ever known, and your words have hurt her deeply. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. If you truly support me, you will stop this now. Hate has no place in this world. And to those companies and individuals who have written those hateful articles and made those disgusting edits, I am coming for you. You will be held accountable."
He hit post, his chest heaving with the intensity of his emotions. "I’m suing them," he said to Carlos, his voice filled with determination. "Every single one of them."
Carlos nodded in support. "I’m with you, mate. Whatever you need."
Lando wasted no time. He contacted his legal team, explaining the situation in detail. "I want to sue every company that published those hateful articles. I want to take down every website that allowed those comments. This has to stop."
His lawyers assured him they would take immediate action. Lando felt a flicker of hope amidst his anger and heartbreak. He couldn’t undo the pain that Y/N had suffered, but he could fight for her, stand up for her, and make sure that those responsible faced consequences.
As the days went by, Lando’s social media post garnered immense attention. Fans and fellow drivers rallied behind him, condemning the hate and expressing their support for Y/N. The companies that had published the hateful articles received a barrage of backlash, and legal notices were swiftly sent.
Lando’s heart remained heavy with the loss of Y/N, but he found strength in his fight for justice. He hoped that, somehow, Y/N would see that he was standing up for her, that he loved her deeply, and that he was determined to make things right.
time skip
Lando couldn’t wait any longer. The moment he finished speaking with his legal team, he grabbed his keys and raced out of his apartment. He needed to see Y/N, to make things right. His heart pounded as he drove to her place, his mind racing with thoughts of everything he wanted to say to her.
When he arrived at Y/N’s apartment, he didn’t hesitate. He knocked on the door, loud and urgent. "Y/N, it’s me, Lando. Please open the door."
There was no response, but he refused to give up. He knocked again, harder this time. "Y/N, please, I need to talk to you. I’m not leaving until you let me in."
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open. Y/N stood there, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She looked exhausted, her face etched with pain and sadness.
"Lando, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He took a step closer, his heart breaking at the sight of her. "Y/N, please let me in. I need to talk to you."
She hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside, allowing him to enter. He closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts.
"Y/N, I’m so sorry," he began, his voice filled with emotion. "I had no idea what you were going through. I didn’t see the hate, the comments, any of it. If I had known, I would have done something sooner."
Tears welled up in her eyes again, but she remained silent, letting him continue.
"You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met," he said, his voice trembling. "You are strong, beautiful, and kind. Those people who wrote those horrible things about you don’t know you at all. They’re just cowards hiding behind screens."
He took her hands in his, his eyes locked on hers. "You are perfect to me, Y/N. Every curve, every smile, every moment we’ve shared. I love you more than words can say. And I’m not going to let them win. I’m fighting back. I’ve already spoken out, and I’m suing the companies that published those hateful articles. I’m doing everything I can to make this right."
Her tears began to flow again, but this time they were tears of relief and love. "Lando, I was so scared. I didn’t want you to be dragged down by all the hate because of me."
He shook his head, his own eyes filling with tears. "You are worth everything to me, Y/N. I don’t care about the hate. I care about you. Please, don’t leave me. We’re stronger together. We can get through this, I promise."
She let out a sob, her walls finally crumbling. "I love you so much, Lando. I was just so afraid."
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "I love you too, Y/N. More than anything. We’re going to get through this together. I’m never letting you go."
They stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, their hearts beating in sync. Lando gently kissed her forehead, his love for her shining through his eyes. "You’re my everything, Y/N. We’ll face the world together, and nothing will ever tear us apart again."
She clung to him, feeling the warmth and safety of his embrace. "Thank you, Lando. I’m so sorry for everything."
He smiled softly, wiping away her tears. "You have nothing to be sorry for, love. We’re a team, and we’ll always be. I’ll protect you, I’ll stand by you, and I’ll love you with everything I have."
They shared a tender kiss, their love stronger than ever. As they held each other, they knew that no amount of hate could ever come between them. They had each other, and that was all they needed.
In that moment, all the pain and fear melted away, replaced by the warmth of their love and the strength of their bond. They were together, and together, they could conquer anything.
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spiderlilyserendipity · 6 months ago
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Responsibility 🔞🖤
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**Minors DNI! This is content for adults only! To read my SFW works, please see my masterlist.**
Summary: You’ve always had a hard time asking for help when you need it, and it doesn’t seem to get better as time goes by. Luckily for you, Hoseok knows you well enough to know when you need pampering.
Tags: Dom!Hoseok, Sub!Y/N, minimal plot, established relationship, dollification, safe words established, she calls him owner, PRAISE!!!!!, nonverbal sub space, oral (m. recieving), multiple orgasms (f. recieving), breeding kink (I didn't even mean to put it in this fic I swear but I can't fucking stop myself anymore send help), aftercare!!!, light angst (oopsie ✨), fluff at the end.
Warnings: Unprotected sex (don’t do that obviously lol)
W/C: 3970 (3.9K)
A/N: Hello everyone!! Sorry I disappeared once again, I just realized the last time I posted here was in NOVEMBER???? For the amount of BTS x Y/N writing I do it doesn't add up... I have been in a veryyyy big writer’s slump ALTHOUGH I have made some really good progress with a bigger series I hope to get out to you guys soon! These last few weeks have been a bit rough for me, so here is something a bit chiller with my beloved Dom!Hoseok x Y/N.
You’re in one of those moods again where everything feels too much.
It’s not necessarily your fault, but you’ve always had a hard time asking for help when you need it, and it doesn’t seem to get better as time goes by. You’ve known this about yourself for a long time, but you can’t help but get trapped in it. 
It starts for you with a big project at work. You only volunteered to help out because no one else did, and it led to you being given more responsibility than your payroll even calls for. Initially, you tried to back out of it and make excuses, but your boss pushed forward with his own agenda and you never could. Now, you’re stuck doing work that isn’t really even yours without extra pay and with significantly more stress.
You’ve regretted it since the start, but you thought you’d be fine until today. 
Today, you made a small mistake and your boss chewed you out for it in front of everyone. It wasn’t even a big deal, but your boss was in a bad mood to begin with and you just happened to be the person in the line of fire. But that small incident flared up something inside you—a deeply rooted fear of not being good enough.
And now, you find yourself plummeting down a rabbit hole of negative self-talk that really has nothing to do with work or anyone else. It has to do with you. 
“What are you doing spacing out?” Hoseok’s laugh jolts you out of your thoughts. You look away from the TV, where your boyfriend is smiling warmly down at you. “Had a long day at work?”
You purse your lips. You don’t really want to get into it. It’s a bad habit, but you don’t like to drag Hoseok into your negativity. He has enough stress at his own job. “No, just tired.” You lie, getting off the couch.
“Y/N.” Hoseok says your name, wrapping a hand around your wrist. His voice is low, worried. You avoid his eyes. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“Nothing, I’m just tired.” You lie again, but you know Hoseok can see right through you. Of course he can, after all these years together.
You take a quick shower in the ensuite bathroom of your shared bedroom, then step out and run yourself a bath as a treat after a long day. You smile to yourself at the array of different bath bombs Hoseok keeps stocked for you, picking out one with a candy-like scent for tonight. 
You drop the bath bomb in the water, watching it fizz and turn the water a shimmery baby pink. You step back in, sinking down into the hot water with a sigh. It’s not enough to take away the negative thoughts in your head, but it does take the edge off. 
You’re almost dozing off in the bath when the bathroom door opens. Hoseok steps inside, then closes the door behind him. “That smells so good.” He comments, taking a seat on the closed toilet lid beside you. 
You smile. “Yeah.”
The air is still slightly tense between you. Hoseok watches your face for a moment, then smiles. “This scent is nice, isn’t it? I’m glad I listened to the salesperson.” He asks, rolling up his sleeves. You wonder what he’s doing when he leans in and begins to massage your shoulders. “You’re too tense, though.” He comments under his breath.
You look away. With one small touch, Hoseok breaks down your walls. “Don’t deserve it.” You mumble. 
“Don’t deserve what, sweetheart?” Hoseok asks gently, his thumbs now working into the dips of your collarbone.
You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed. “Everything. Don’t deserve your touch.”
“Is that so?” Hoseok asks in a low, patient voice that sends heat to your core. You know exactly what he’s doing, and although you want it, you can’t let yourself have it. You try to push away, to reach for the tub’s stopper and drain the bath away. But Hoseok stops you with a firm hand over your wrist. “I’m not done yet, sweetheart.” He warns you gently, pushing you back against the tub.
Hoseok’s eyes flicker down to your cleavage, but he doesn’t touch you there yet. He can still see the hesitance in your eyes, the self-doubt that makes you fear submission to him. “It seems like you have a lot of thoughts in your head right now. Would you like me to give you a break, to let me do all the thinking? And you get to relax, just like a pretty little doll?” He purrs, causing you to rub your thighs together. 
In the low light, Hoseok’s eyes glint with satisfaction at the effect his words have on you. “Oh, you would like that. Unfortunately I need to hear a special word before I can do that. Does my pretty girl remember what that word is?”
“Candy.” You murmur. 
Hoseok beams, running a hand through your hair. “Good girl.” He emphasizes, making the fire in your belly burn brighter. “What a gorgeous doll I own.”
You gasp softly as Hoseok’s hands move down to cup your breasts, toying with your nipples. “Owner.” You whisper.
“Yes, doll?” Hoseok replies easily, continuing to rub the now-hard nubs. 
“It’s cold.” You whisper. By now, the hot water has become lukewarm and you’re starting to get chilly. Hoseok hums, leaning in to kiss your breasts. 
“Is that right?” He coos at you. His hands move down your torso, then part your thighs. You whimper as Hoseok plays with your clit, then drags a finger along your entrance. “Hmm…Feels nice and warm here though.” Hoseok makes an expression of fake-confusion, then slides a finger inside. You whine, gripping his forearm with both of your hands. 
Hoseok chuckles, then kisses your forehead. He cups your mound, looking directly at you as he does it. “I don’t think I want to get my clothes wet. Let’s get you up and dressed.”
With that, Hoseok pulls the stopper. You watch the water drain down, until you’re left sitting in the empty tub. Hoseok stands, then puts a hand under your chin, guiding you to stand. His eyes move down your naked body, full of controlled lust. He has you step out of the tub, then picks a towel off the shelf. “So wet.” He chides, taking your hand in his and drying each finger diligently. You watch him as he carefully works his way up your arm, then dries your armpit for you. He repeats the motion on the other side. 
Then, Hoseok pushes your chin up, expecting you to look up. You obey. He dries off your neck, then your collarbones. You whine as he takes his time with your breasts, thumbing at them through the towel. “So, so wet.” Hoseok chides, then pinches one nipple. “This is why pretty things like you are hard work. If owner forgets to take good care of you, you become so messy. Isn’t that right, doll?”
“Yes, owner.” You murmur.
Hoseok lightly guides your chin down, allowing you to look at him again. “But messy girls are fun, too, because then owner has fun cleaning you and setting you straight.” He says, forcing your thighs apart to dry off your inner thighs. You purse your lips as he takes his sweet time drying your thighs and calves. Hoseok smiles up at you as he wipes off your feet. “It’s been so long since I got you a mani-pedi. I should do that, then take you out and get you some outfits. We can stop by a jewellery store, too. TIffany’s? No, maybe Cartier would be better.”
You listen quietly as Hoseok talks to himself, appraising your body as he does. You’re not meant to voice your opinion for things like this—you’re meant to take what he gives you. You let Hoseok turn you around, then begin wiping down your back. It’s mindless, but that’s the point. To submit, to gratefully take what you’re given. But you can’t help the nagging voice in your mind. “Don’t deserve it.” You mumble. Hoseok’s hands pause.
Hoseok scoffs. “How can a doll know what their worth is? What, are you some kind of AI?” He comments, continuing to work at you. 
“Deserve punishment.” You mumble. “I’m bad.”
Hoseok hums as if he agrees, then puts a hand on your ass. You flinch and he notices. “Do you think I’d play with a bad doll?” Hoseok whispers, his voice dangerous in your ear. 
You answer immediately. “No, owner.”
“That’s right!” He says cheerfully, turning you back around. Taking your face in one hand, Hoseok grins at you, but warning flashes in his eyes. “My doll doesn’t get punished. My doll is a good girl who listens and takes what I give her. Has owner been slacking in pampering his doll that she’s forgotten who she belongs to?”
“No, owner.” You repeat. 
Hoseok looks displeased. You feel the urge to cry, hating his displeasure. You want to be good, but you don’t feel good enough!
Hoseok takes your hand and guides you into the ensuite closet. Still naked, you stand with your hands clasped as Hoseok (still fully dressed) opens a bag at the back of the closet, one you’ve never seen before. He pulls out two pieces of lingerie—one is a simple pair of white silk panties, and the other is a white, translucent babydoll with a small white bow in the middle. Without asking if you like it, Hoseok comes over to you and lifts you up onto the island in the closet. He puts the panties on you first, then the top. “So pretty.” He says, then rubs your cheek proudly. You preen at his touch.
Hoseok brings you to the bedroom next, sitting you down in front of your vanity. He hums to himself as he picks up your comb and brushes your hair. He decides to do a French braid tonight, then ties it in place with a little bow hair tie at the bottom. You both know it won’t look like that soon. “Such a pretty thing.” He praises you, eyes boring on you in the mirror. He taps your lips once, and you open your mouth. Hoseok spits in your mouth, then settles a hand on your throat. “Swallow.” He orders, then beams as he feels your throat bob from swallowing.
The dom reaches between your legs again, moving aside your underwear as he slips a finger into you again. By now, you’re much wetter. Hoseok laughs, then holds your face in one hand, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. You watch your own helpless face as your dom fingers you with amusement on his face. “So weak. Is this all you can take?”
“Owner, owner—” You whimper, putting a hand on Hoseok’s arm as he slips another finger inside. 
“What, now you remember who owns you?” Hoseok asks, reaching down with his free hand to rub at your clit. He laughs at your fucked out face. “Dolls can’t come without permission. You should know that by now, sweetheart.”
“Owner, please, please let me come, please—” You plead.
“Five. Four.” Hoseok counts you down. You bite your lip, trying to hold back. “Three, two, one, now.” 
Your whole body shakes as Hoseok works you through your orgasm. You feel come drip out of you, wetting your panties and the chair underneath you. But you don’t care at all, not with Hoseok murmuring praises in your ear. “What an obedient little cunt, just like I trained you. It’s like you were made to belong to me.”
You whine. Hoseok has you stand up, turning you half-sideways. You look in the mirror as the dom runs his clean hand down your hair gently, then rubs both hands over your hips. You breathe in sharply as you meet Hoseok’s eyes. He smirks, then digs his hands into your asscheeks, slightly spreading you. “What a messy girl. Only took two fingers and you’re all shiny down here.” He laughs, running a finger over your inner thigh, where your pre-come coats the skin. 
“Owner.” You mumble against Hoseok’s collarbone. 
He beams. “Yes, my doll?”
You both know what you want, but you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. It’s not your place to ask him to fuck you, since you’re meant to let him do as he pleases. So instead, you just press yourself in against him, placing your cheek against his collarbone. Hoseok knows what you mean without saying it. He presses a kiss to your hair, then presents his left hand—still covered by your juices—to your mouth and sticks his thumb in. You suck obediently, looking directly at your dom. “Such a useful mouth.” He purrs. You let out a small sound at his praise. Hoseok withdraws his thumb, then switches to give you his index and middle fingers. As you do that, the dom meticulously straightens your hair, ensuring not a hair is out of place. Finally, he gives you his ring and pinky finger to lick. You don’t miss the emerald and diamond ring on his ring finger—ensuring to get your juices out of every crevice around the ring. Hoseok’s jaw tightens at the sight. 
The dom intertwines your hands, then brings you over to the bed. Using his free hand, he pulls back the covers, then guides you under. You watch Hoseok grab the TV remotes and return. You glance at the hard member in Hoseok’s pants as he sits in bed next to you. Knowing what you’re thinking, Hoseok pulls his pants and underwear down in one go—revealing the hard, leaking member. “I wonder if that movie is out yet…” Hoseok says to no one in particular, pretending to be interested in finding some movie. Without saying a word, Hoseok entangles a hand in your hair, guiding you down toward his member under the covers. Your breath sharpens at the feeling of being used to pleasure him as he watches a movie, just a little thing for him to control.
You start to lick from your position at his side, but Hoseok frowns at you. Your eyes widen. Have you done something wrong? “Hmm…” He says, then reaches down and hooks a finger into the hip part of your panties. Using them, he pulls you down so you’re sitting on his calves. He lets go, then returns the hand to your hair. For added effect, he tucks the covers in around you, leaving just your head up for you to suck him off. You whimper, loving the feeling. You’re his toy, his doll. 
You begin sucking Hoseok off, doing your absolute best to please him as you work at him with your mouth and cup his balls with your hands. Hoseok runs a hand through your hair gently, idly, like he’s barely paying attention when you know he couldn’t care less about what’s on screen. Even like this, you know you’re his priority. 
You lick the slit of his member and Hoseok hisses. “Oh, that’s it.” He praises you, tightening the hand in your hair slightly. “What a good girl. So useful.”
You moan, accidentally pressing yourself down against his calf. Hoseok notices immediately. “Is my doll getting restless? Is me playing with your mouth not enough?”
“No, owner. I-I’m grateful.” You protest weakly. 
Hoseok’s eyes glint dangerously. “Yeah? Then why are you rubbing yourself against my leg like a puppy in heat?” He sits you up, bringing you onto his lap. You purse your lips as Hoseok feels how wet you are again with his hand. “Good girls don’t hide their feelings, sweetheart. You know that.”
“Yes, owner.” You say, looking at him through your lashes. 
Hoseok tsks. He slots his thigh between your legs. You sigh as he pushes up against you, loving the feeling of his hot skin against your aching clit. “If it feels good, you need to show me, sweetheart. Now, look at me and show me how good it feels. And don’t look away.” He orders. You swallow. Hoseok settles a hand to the back of your neck, holding you firmly. You slowly begin rubbing yourself against his thigh, looking directly at your dom. Hoseok watches you intently, ignoring the movie playing in the background. The lust in his eyes is illuminated by the changing colours from the screen. 
Your desperation mounts embarrassingly fast with Hoseok watching you rub yourself against him. Knowing that, Hoseok taps your chin, indicating for you to open your mouth. You take his thumb in your mouth, sucking as best as you can but you’re not consistent—the seal you form around his thumb is broken all too often by the moans and sighs you let out. Hoseok smirks at that, knowing you can’t handle it. “Suck properly.” He orders. You swallow, then wrap your lips properly around his thumb. “That’s it. Who’s my good little slut?” Hoseok asks.
You whine, grinding faster. “Is it you?” He teases. “Hmm…I thought my doll knew how to come when I told her though. Let’s see. Come now.”
With a single order, you get your release. Your whole body shakes, and Hoseok pulls you in close. He wraps his arms around you, using one hand to cup the back of your head as you shake from your orgasm. “So obedient. Just like I trained you. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, thank you.” You chant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You’re almost crying at this point, feeling so taken care of and loved. “So grateful. Thank you, owner.”
Hoseok pulls back slightly, cupping your face in both of his hands. He kisses you, slow and passionate. “Can you handle more, baby?”
“Yes, owner.” You answer, feeling soft. Hoseok’s eyes sparkle. He knows that tone of your voice. You’re slipping further and further into your sub space, and it won’t be long until it’s hard for words to come out altogether. But Hoseok knows your body and your limits. He’ll give you exactly what he knows you can take.
“Go get your plug.” He orders. You crawl to the other side of the bed, reaching into the nightstand. Although the two of you have various toys, you know he means the small toy shaped like a teardrop with a little gem at the flared end. You bring it to him, presenting it with both hands. Hoseok takes it, then guides you to lay down. You lay back, feeling loved and safe. Hoseok will take care of you. He always does. Hoseok leans over you. “Show me your colours.” He says, knowing words are starting to slip away from you already. You squeeze Hoseok’s shoulder once to indicate green, twice for yellow, and three times for red. Hoseok kisses your forehead in praise. “What’s your colour right now?”
You squeeze once. “Such a good listener.” He praises you. He checks you’re ready, then slowly slides into you. You pant as he bottoms out, feeling full. 
“O-Owner.” Your voice comes out weak. “P-Please.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Hoseok reassures you. He allows you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “I’ll take good care of you. Fill your womb with my seed.”
You clench around him. “P-Please.” Then, you whine into his ear. “B-Breed me, owner.”
Hoseok growls, planting his hands on either side of your waist. He begins to move slowly, but you know he’s holding himself back for you. “Yeah?” He asks. “Want me to get you pregnant, sweetheart? Take care of you, take responsibility?”
You moan at the idea of being safe and taken care of. For someone who always pushes herself too far, you know deep down you’d love that. And Hoseok knows it, too, even if you don’t know how to ask for it. He knows you. Soon, Hoseok’s thrusts become faster and faster, knowing you’ve adjusted enough for him. Your moans become louder, and the nails you dig into Hoseok’s skin start to leave deeper indents. Soon, you’re arching your back. Hoseok’s own hips start to stutter. He reaches for your hair, tangling a firm hand in it. You sigh happily at his firmness. “Almost there, sweetheart.” Hoseok promises, reaching down to rub your clit. “You can do it, baby. Ready? 3…2…1…Now.”
Your orgasm wracks through you again, making you shake a third time tonight. At the same time, hot seed fills you, making you feel insane with pleasure. Tears slip out of the corners of your eyes, landing on the pillow. Hoseok wipes your cheeks immediately, then pulls you in as he lays on top of you. You feel so safe with him both inside you and on top of you, sandwiched between him and the sheets.
“T-Thank you, thank you.” You repeat, digging your nails into Hoseok’s shoulders. “Thank you, owner. So grateful.”
“You’re welcome, baby.” Hoseok says, smiling at you. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back. Even though he doesn’t say it, you see the relief in Hoseok’s eyes as you finally smile sincerely tonight. You lay there for some time and catch your breath. You kiss and hold one another, feeling comfortable. Then, Hoseok slowly slides out of you. You shiver as the seed begins to slip out of you, but Hoseok guides it back in with the plug. You clench around it, feeling pleased. “That’s my girl. So proud of you, sweetheart.”
You lay peacefully as Hoseok gets up, leaving the room momentarily. He returns with a glass of water and two granola bars for you. You’re still quite far into your sub space, so words are a bit difficult for you right now. Knowing that, Hoseok just quietly helps you sit up and feeds you your snack. Once you’re done, he carefully helps you drink the water.
“Should we shower now?” Hoseok asks. You purse your lips, looking down at your intertwined hands. He laughs. “Okay. In twenty minutes then.”
You smile, letting Hoseok pull you back under the covers for some cuddles before shower time. “Sweetheart.” Hoseok says, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he spoons you. You hum. “Remember you don’t need to hide from me, okay? If anything is bothering you, you tell me. I won’t think you’re any less good at your job if you talk to me about it, I promise. And although I know you would never give up your passion, I want you to know you don’t have to work if you don’t want to.”
You blink, craning your head to look at your boyfriend. Hoseok (despite the blush on his face) looks resolute. “I’m not kidding when I say I’ll take responsibility for you. I really can take good care of you.”
You giggle. It feels like a proposal. “I know, Hoseokie.” You mumble, cuddling back against him. You sigh, closing your eyes against the pillow as Hoseok gently rubs a hand over your belly. “I love you.” You whisper.
“I love you too.” Hoseok presses another kiss in your hair. Just then, he glances at the clock. “Okay, twenty minutes over. Let’s go.” He says. You pout, but he just grins at you. “A deal’s a deal, baby. Come on, let me get you cleaned up so I can change the sheets.”
You pout, holding your arms up. Hoseok laughs, tipping his head back. “Actually, I change my mind. I don’t want such a spoiled wife.”
“Too bad.” You mumble with a smile as he scoops you up into his arms like a bride. By now, your headspace has worn off but you feel so soft and content. “You have to take responsibility for me.”
You and Hoseok laugh together as he carries you to the bathroom.
🖤🖤🖤
A/N: Thank you for reading! I'd like to thank the Academy and fucking 2022 Mama red carpet Hoseok for inspiring me to stay up and write this fic when I have work at 8 am (but just look at him AGHHHHHHHHH). Also, requests are open <333
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katyswrites · 1 year ago
Text
don't call me 'baby'
PART 10 | SERIES
Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader
Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, mentions of pregnancy/a pregnancy scare, mentions of food and alcohol, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, ddlg dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n
Wordcount: 10.4K
A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?
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PART 10 | meet me in the afterglow
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Your walk to work was chilly enough to warrant a coat. That was perhaps the thing you missed least about home in the U.S. - even though the winters certainly got cold here, it was nowhere near the sub-zero temperatures you had grown up with during the coldest time of year. Maybe the only thing you missed was snow - in all of your time living here, you had only gotten a brief dusting once, and it had melted by the following day.
Still, a week out from Christmas, you now needed to wrap something warm around yourself as you walked down the street, heading closer to the city center as your shift was due to start. 
You were technically two minutes late to your shift, the coffee shop busy enough to have a line going out the door when you arrived. Yet, your manager Francesco said nothing - a small spark of joy in your day. 
You didn’t necessarily need to go back to work - Steve’s money had yet to run out. But, you felt good about earning your own money - and, the less you had to draw on his remaining funds, the less you had to think about him.
You hadn’t seen or spoken to Steve since the night of your argument. Well, that was only partially true - you had received one piece of communication from him. It came a few days later - you had been moping in your apartment, having barely left your room for days, when an envelope arrived. It had his familiar writing and wax seal, with another wad of cash and a letter made out to you:
I promise this is the last you’ll hear from me. I am a man of my word, so I promise to help provide for you until you’re finished with school. I’ll be transferring enough money to your account to cover all of your expenses, so no need to worry about your rent, food, anything of the sort… I really do want you to be able to focus on school, okay? So, please don’t protest, or try to send the money back. Please feel free to use the credit card if you need to. 
I’m sorry it ended this way. We both knew it was going to, but I apologize if I said anything out of line the other night. I truly do wish you the best. 
Take care,
Steve
Reading it had been a punch to the gut. The formality of it, the finality of it… you would’ve rather that you never heard from him again. You had stashed the letter in a box under your bed, and not looked at it since.
A few weeks after that, you had pregnancy scare. It was silly, really - but, your period was late, and if was the first conclusion your mind had jumped to. You had called Robin in a panic, begging her to come home - she did, with four different brands of pregnancy tests. Those 15 minutes of waiting for results were the most agonizing of your life - then, upon seeing them all negative, you fell to your knees and burst into tears.
“It’s okay,” Robin had cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re good it was a false alarm - you’re probably just late because of stress -”
“I know,” you sobbed. “I just -”
“What is it?”
You then had sat up, chest heaving as you sobbed.
“He’s really gone isn’t he?”
Robin held you in her arms that night as you cried yourself to sleep.
To your knowledge now, he had gone back to the U.S. - was he still in Chicago? Or, did he go back to New York? You realized it was better for you to not ask these questions, or to think of him at all. As the weeks had turned into months, you found yourself thinking of him a little less each day - but you still thought of him. You saw him in the passersby as you walked down the street, in every car window, in every businessman walking through the door to order a coffee. Sometimes, you’d hear a laugh, or get a brief whiff of cigarette smoke, and swear it was him. But it never was - it never would be again.
The days had dragged on, but luckily, you often found yourself too busy to dwell too much on thoughts of Steve. Between work and school, your plate was pretty full. With graduation in mere weeks, you had spent the entire term studying and working on your thesis. Steve’s remaining money, at least, allowed you to work far less hours than you had before - a small blessing, you supposed. 
The day was moving pretty quickly, the morning rush busy enough that two hours flew by without much notice. It was only during the afternoon lull that you found yourself able to look up from the espresso machine - only to lock eyes with a familiar face through the window.
Eddie smiled back at you, waving. You couldn’t help but grin, and beckoned him to come inside. He bounded through the glass doors, bursting into the coffee shop with the infectious, chaotic energy he always carries with him.
“Bella, how are you?” he asked, leaning over the counter with a big grin.
“I’m okay,” you said, shrugging.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Just okay?”
“Oh well - you know, a bit stressed with the end of term and all. But, that’ll all be over soon.”
“I’m almost done, too - just finishing up my exams, all of that nonsense.”
“Do you have someone for your thesis?”
You nodded. “Professor Hopper - he’s always had a soft spot for me,” you said, smiling fondly, thinking of the seemingly-gruff. 
“I have Clarke - I don’t actually know how much he knows about photography, he teaches chemistry for godsake, but apparently it’s a hobby or something, so he’ll sign off on whatever I do,” Eddie said, laughing.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you - I actually have my own studio space now.”
“What? Eddie, that’s amazing!”
He grinned. “Thanks - I mean, I’m still technically freelance, but I’m hoping once I’m fully graduated more work will start coming in. But for now, I don’t mind having some spare time to practice with the band.”
You did your best to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“Right - don’t forget me when you make it as a big rockstar, Eddie.”
He let out a hearty laugh at that, the infectious kind that had you joining in - you hadn’t laughed like that in quite some time.
“You know, you should come by later to check it out,” Eddie said. “I mean, if you want -”
You thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Sure, why not - I get off in about a half hour -”
“Perfect,” he cried, clapping his hands together. “I’ll just wait around then - and, uh, can I get an espresso? Since I’m already here and all.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile.
“Yeah, sure thing Munson - I’ll take my sweet time with it, just for you.”
The end of your shift flew by, and soon enough you were pulling off your apron, linking your arm in Eddie’s as he led you out the door and through the city.
The studio, as it turned out, was only a few blocks away. The space was small, but nice - a big glass storefront allowed plenty of light in, even with the fading sun, indicative of the short days of winter. Some of Eddie’s work hung framed on the walls - city scenes, candids of people on the street, bands in action at his favorite club… and even a few of you, from the project you posed for a few years ago.
“Wow - this is amazing, Eddie!” you exclaimed, glancing around the studio with genuine pride for your friend. You knew this was always the goal for him, what he always wanted to do.
“Grazie mille,” he said, beaming. 
“Do you have anything lined up?”
He nodded.
“Some - nothing too interesting. A few weddings, graduation photoshoots, things like that. Oh, do you want to see the photo lab?”
You let him lead the way into the back room, passing through a dimly-lit room with machines and equipment that you were sure you had no idea how to use. Newly developed photos were hanging around on clothespins, or spread across the table in the middle.
“Back there is the darkroom,” Eddie said, gesturing to a small door on the other side of the room. “But yeah, this is where the magic happens.”
“You develop all your pictures this way?” you asked, examining a few laid across the table.
He shook his head. “Not exactly - only the stuff I shoot on film. A lot of what I do is digital, and I edit that on my computer but… I really do love shooting film. I only really do that for specific things. Oh, which reminds me!”
He turned his back to you, rummaging through a filing cabinet until he produced a large manila envelope, extending it to you. You furrowed your brow, confused. You turned it to examine it properly - the only thing written on it was your name and a date, in Eddie’s telltale scrawl.
“What -”
“It’s those pictures I owe you, from your birthday party - sorry, it took me a while to get around to developing them.”
Oh. 
“Oh,” you said quietly, gripping the envelope a bit tighter. “Uh, thanks - that was really nice of you, Eddie.”
You were still staring down at the parcel in your hands, your hands shaking a bit - you had completely forgotten that Eddie had been taking pictures all night. Most likely because you had been a bit distracted at the time. But now…
“I think they turned out pretty nice, if you ask me,” Eddie said. “But, you can be the judge of that yourself.”
You pressed your mouth into a tight line, nearly feigning a smile as you finally met his eyes again. He was looking back expectantly, and you realized he wanted you to look at them now. 
“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled. “I guess I’ll just -”
You opened it up, sliding out the stack of photos - they were slightly bigger than the ones you had seen from a digital camera, on a beautiful matte paper that you knew must have not been cheap. This, you realized, was Eddie’s belated birthday gift to you.
You thumbed through the pictures - the first few were just candids of your friends on the dancefloor, or deep in conversation around the bar. There were a few of you and Robin, arms thrown around each other and smiling ear-to-ear.
There were quite a few solo shots of you, raising a glass to the camera, mid-laugh, or dancing - somehow, he had made it look like you truly were the center of attention, as if to tell people this is who we were there for! 
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, laughing quietly at a few of the shots, including one of Robin flipping off the camera as she kisses Vickie. Then, your smile dropped, because there he was.
Steve, looking as handsome as you remembered, but somehow also a stranger, or like a figment of your imagination. Somehow, a small part of your subconscious had convinced you over the last few months that perhaps he wasn’t real, a true figment of your imagination that had been too good to be true. But there he was, large as life, his arm wrapped around you as you smiled into the camera. You were smiling in his arms, a girl completely unrecognizable in some ways. In another photo, he’s pressing a kiss to your cheek as you laugh - you remembered that one being taken, that’s for sure. You gently trailed your fingers across the picture, as if you were hoping to reach in and pull that happy girl out, just to shake a bit of sense into her. You didn’t even realize you were crying until a fat wet teardrop his the page, rolling down and off the edge.
“Whoa - are you alright?” Eddie asked, his voice tinged with worry.
You jumped, having nearly forgotten that he was there at all. How long had you been staring at the pictures of Steve? For a few minutes, or hours? There was no way to know.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you said, the thickness in your voice betraying you. You pressed the heels of your hands under your eyes, willing the gentle tears to stop, sniffling.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked softly.
You laughed dryly, more hot tears welling up as you did.
“Nothing! I - they’re beautiful, Eddie. Really - thank you. You - you’ve really got a talent.”
Your voice wobbled a bit at the end, and you sniffled.
“I’m sorry, I - it’s nothing to do with you,” you assured him. “I just - I’ve been having a hard time lately.”
Eddie cocked his head, confused. Then, his eyes flitted down to the picture in your hands.
“Oh - I’m sorry, I - is this about him?” Eddie asked quietly, gesturing to the photos. You just nodded, avoiding his gaze again as you stuffed them back into the envelope.
“I didn’t know you two had broken up, I’m sorry -”
“We didn’t break up!” you snapped, harsher than intended. “Fuck, I - sorry, that came out wrong. We didn’t break up, because we were never exactly together. It’s just complicated.”
Eddie furrowed his brow. “Yeah, okay - well, I’m sorry to hear about your not-breakup. I guess I’m just a little surprised.”
“Why’s that?” you asked.
He shrugged. “I spent a long time looking at all of those when I was developing them - you know how they say pictures tell a thousand words?”
You nodded.
“Well - I take pictures of a lot of couples - weddings, engagement shoots, all of that… and I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.”
You felt your chest tighten - maybe you were being a lovesick idiot at your party, but Steve?
You shook your head. “No - Eddie, it… it wasn’t like that. I can promise you that.”
Steve made that perfectly clear.
Eddie shrugged again. “I’m just telling you what I observed, that’s all.”
“Well maybe you should mind your business,” you grumbled.
Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that.
Eddie’s face fell a bit, and he slowly took a step back, hands shoved in his pockets.
“My apologies,” he whispered. He was hurt, that much was obvious. You mentally kicked yourself.
“No Eddie - I’m sorry, I didn’t -” 
You sighed, frustrated.
“Things have been, like, really weird the last few months and… it doesn’t matter.”
“I could tell,” he said, voice quiet. “You’ve been.. Distant.”
You nodded, the awkwardness filling the space between you two. You had fucked this up too, somehow.
“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “Uh, it’s getting late, and dark… I probably should head home.”
“Yeah, okay - good idea, I have some stuff to work on anyway.”
You both nodded, avoiding eye contact as you both headed out back into the studio.
It wasn’t until you were at the door that you turned to face Eddie again.
“The place really is beautiful… I’m proud of you,” you said sincerely. He offered a small smile in return.
“Thanks.”
“I also - the pictures are beautiful. Thank you for these, I - they’re great.”
“I’m sorry if they -”
“Don’t apologize,” you said firmly. “They’re great - you’ve really got a gift, you know.”
You could tell Eddie was fighting a real smile, a small win in your book.
“C’mon, you know my ego’s just fine on its own.”
You laughed, and without thinking, pulled him into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry I lost it a little earlier,” you whispered.
“It’s alright,” he said, pulling away. “Heartbreak is funny like that.”
You decided not to bother protesting his assessment this time, too tired to start a fight again just to feel something.
“Right, okay.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take out the photos with… him?” Eddie asked, gesturing down to the envelope.
“No, that’s alright - I’m a big girl, I can go through them. I’m definitely going to hang a few of these up though, so thanks again.”
“Take good care of yourself darling, alright? And come by any time - for any reason.”
It was an olive branch, an assurance that things were okay. You forced a smile, nodding.
“Thanks, Eddie - you’re a great friend, you know.”
You bid your farewells, and left the studio with a strange feeling settling within you. You pulled your coat a little tighter around you, stuffing the envelope underneath as you charged through the chilly evening air to the nearest bus stop.
You didn’t get home until nearly 6pm, the winter sky fully dark by then. By the time you walked a few blocks and up the stairs to your apartment, your face was stinging from the cold, the wind picking up more since that afternoon.
Robin was on the couch, a rerun of Friends playing on the TV.
“Hey! You’re back kind of late,” she remarked.
“Yeah - I ran into Eddie, funnily enough,” you replied, hoping you sounded nonchalant.
“Oh really? How is he? I miss him - we should really make a plan to hang out with him soon -”
“Yeah, for sure,” you said, kicking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the rack. “He’s good - I saw his new studio, it’s nice.”
“Oh, no way! That’s great - I need to go sometime -”
“Yeah, totally,” you said, absentminded. “Uh, I’ve got some stuff to do, but I’ll be out here later -”
“Maybe we can get takeout or something -”
“Yeah, perfect -” you tittered, closing your bedroom door behind you, eyes on the envelope in your hands.
You bit your lip, debating what to do. Part of you considered finding all of the pictures of Steve, and burning them. But, that felt a bit dramatic. You pulled out the stack again, sifting through until you found the shots of him. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at how happy the girl in the photos was - if only she knew how quickly things would fall apart that night. The photo of Steve kissing you cheek was your favorite - it was just full of pure, unbridled joy. The one after that was the one you stared at for quite some time, though. You were looking into the camera, grinning widely. Steve, however, wasn’t - no, he was looking at you. You stared at him for quite some time - and remembered Eddie’s words.
I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.
You had thought it was crazy - but, in the picture, Steve was looking at you like you’d hung the stars. Like, if he didn’t have you, he’d be lost. He was looking at you with eyes full of love - you just hadn’t been looking.
You gasped, realizing what Eddie had seen that you couldn’t - maybe everything had meant more to Steve than he had let on. No, that was crazy - wasn’t it?
What happened next didn’t have much explanation - it was probably crazy. You found yourself Googling Steve’s company headquarters in Chicago - it couldn’t be this easy, could it? But it was.
A quick call through the directory brought you to his secretary, a bubbly woman who was more than happy to help. You pretended to be the secretary of a business partner you had remembered Steve mentioning, saying how you wanted to send a thank-you gift - it had been too easy to get his home address, really. And, a confirmation that he was back in Chicago.
The next morning, you sent out an envelope, sticking on international postage. You debated not putting your name on the return address, but ultimately decided to include it - he’d recognize the address anyway. When you dropped it at the post office, you walked away feeling a sense of relief - and, perhaps, just a bit unhinged. TIme would tell if anything came of it. But, at the very least, it felt like finally closing the chapter of your life that had been defined by Steve Harrington. And, that was a good thing… right?
********
The day before Christmas Eve, you received great news: confirmation that you had passed all of your exams, your thesis receiving glowing feedback from the professors in your department. Your degree, which studied Art History and Travel and Tourism Management, meant that you would actually be able to stay here - you hoped to work in tourism in some way right here in Rome, or perhaps work in one of the city’s many museums - being bilingual would help, and more importantly, it meant you never had to set foot back in the United States again, if you didn’t want.
Christmas brought its usual cheer and celebration, complete with mulled wine and a potluck dinner you and Robin held for some of the other foreign students you were friendly with, knowing they didn’t have families to go to for the holidays. Your graduation only brought extra festivities, including a speech prepared by Robin given as a toast at dinner, saying how proud she was of you (and, how jealous she was that you didn’t have to worry about schoolwork anymore). It was silly yet sincere enough to make you tear up and pull her into a big hug. Eddie and Jonathan even swung by for a bit, joining in on the celebration until the wee hours of the morning. Robin and Vickie were all over each otherYou ate and drank to your heart’s content before stumbling to bed, leaving cleanup in the kitchen for the morning.
The morning of Boxing Day, it turned out, was actually the afternoon, with you and Robin oversleeping. You, to your own relief, felt tired, but not too hungover - the same couldn’t be said for Robin and Vickie, who stumbled into the kitchen with grimaces on their faces and grumbles as a greeting.
You spent most of the day cleaning up from the last two days’ festivities, washing dishes and clearing away wrapping paper, wiping countertops and vacuuming just enough until your home felt semi-in order. 
You were still in your pajamas as it was getting dark again in the evening, a rarity these days. When Robin said she was heading out to dinner with Vickie and likely would be staying at her place that night, you bid her farewell, looking forward to some time alone to fully relax and unwind. 
It was several hours later, after scrounging together a dinner of Christmas leftovers and half-dozing on the couch while a movie played, that your doorbell rang. You sat up with a start, your heart jumping at the unexpected intrusion. You stumbled to the door, grumbling about who could possibly be here at this hour - maybe Robin decided to come back after all, and got locked out again? You were ready to playfully ridicule her when you opened the door. But when you saw who was standing on the other side, you froze.
Steve Harrington was there on your doorstep, barely illuminated in the dim light. His chest was heaving, his hair just a bit disheveled. His eyes widened when he saw you, and you imagined you did the same. Your heart plummeted to your stomach at the sight of him, so real and alive in front of you. Were you dreaming? Was this some sick prank?
Neither of you said anything for a moment, two mouths hanging open, searching for the words.
“It’s Christmas,” you blurted out, the first words you’ve said to him in over four months.
“It’s December 26th,” he replied, simply and casually.
“I - well, it’s still a holiday, kind of.”
“Yeah, I know - do you know how hard it is to catch a last-minute flight on Christmas?”
You just stood there in the doorway, unable to think of anything else to say - what the fuck?
“What are you doing here?” you asked, words biting. You were lashing out a bit, but you didn’t care - this moment right now reminded you of a similar one over the summer, when he came to your doorstep to explain how he wasn’t engaged. What was his excuse now?
“Why did you send me this?” he asked, holding up a familiar envelope - the photo.
Why did you? You weren’t certain of that answer yourself. So, you went with the first explanation that came to your head.
“It’s a good picture of you,” you said quietly.
He rolled his eyes.
“Do not - I don’t hear from you for months, then I get this in the mail - on Christmas Eve, mind you -”
“I’m sorry, were you supposed to hear from me?”
“I don’t know!” he cried. “Maybe?”
You scoffed. “You can’t be serious - you made it very clear that you never wanted to see me again.”
“I - what?”
“I wish you well? Take care? We ended things, Steve - what else was I meant to think?”
He sighed, his shoulders sagging.
“I don’t know. I guess part of me - it doesn’t matter. But, what am I supposed to make of this?” he asks, waving the envelope.
“I - Eddie gave me a bunch of pictures he took at my birthday party… I thought maybe you’d want that one.”
He took a tentative step closer towards you, gauging your reaction. You held your ground, not breaking eye contact.
“Is that the only reason?” he asked, voice low.
You felt your heartbeat quicken, your palms clammy - he really was just so handsome. Still, there was something so boyish about him, something that reminded you of why you fell for him in the first place. He had cut his hair a bit, his summer tan faded - and he looked tired. Then again, you probably did too - you suddenly became conscious of the fact that you were in your pajamas, still looking like you had just woken up - you wished you could disappear, never to be perceived again.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “The only reason.”
He was close enough now that you could see his Adam’s Apple bob as he gulped, his eyes glancing up and down your form as he took a deep breath.
“Tell me that, when you sent this, there wasn’t at least a small part of you that hoped I’d respond - that, when you sent this, you hoped I’d call, or show up here. If there wasn’t, I’ll walk away right now, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
There it was - everything laid out on the table. So much was still unsaid - but, it was obvious that he also had been hurting the last few months, that he didn’t want this to end, maybe even nearly as much as you did. 
“You really flew all the way here because I sent you a photo?” you whispered.
He nodded. “Of course I did.”
“You realize how crazy that is, right?”
He chuckled dryly.
“Well, they do say it makes you do crazy things.”
“...it?” you asked, voice wavering.
He nodded.
Oh.
“Come inside,” you murmured. “It’s pretty cold out there.”
As soon as the door was shut behind him, he began spiraling into a new explanation.
“I hope you know that I didn’t come here just to - you’re right, it is kind of crazy, but I didn’t know what else to do, after everything that happened -”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to talk at all.”
You both stood there for a moment, eyes locked on eachother. Then, as if reading each other’s minds, you both moved at once - you crashed your lips into his, fast and desperate. He sighed against your lips, pulling you close as his tongue slipped into your mouth. 
You felt like crying - you had missed him so much, more than you had realized - his voice, his warmth, his scent - it brought everything flooding back, the feelings you had buried in an attempt at self-preservation. But now, as you kissed him, you felt the tears well up, stinging your eyes as they rolled down your face, hot and fast.
“Whoa - baby, it’s okay - what’s wrong -”
Baby. 
“Nothing,” you cried, wiping the tears away. “I just - I really fucking missed you.”
You felt stupid to admit it, but then again, didn’t he come close to confessing that himself just a few moments ago?
“I know, I know, baby - you have no fuckin’ idea -”
Another kiss, passionate and apologetic.
“I didn’t mean any of what I said that night,” you gasped, pulling him closer. “I was just so scared -”
“I know, me too, baby - m’sorry -”
Baby. Babybabybaby.
He was holding your face between his hands now, backing you up until you were pressed against the wall, his lips finding yours again. He titled his head down to nuzzle at your throat, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin there. You tipped your head back, giving him full access to do as he pleased. He kissed and nipped at your neck, until you were moaning and crying out his name, pulling at his coat until it fell off of his shoulders. You twisted your hands in his button-down, his hands squeezing tighter on your waist in response.
“Fuck, Steve,” you breathed. “I’m sorry -”
“Stop with that,” he said, firmly taking your face in his hands again, catching your lips in another gentle kiss. “You’re right, I just realy don’t want to talk anymore -”
Then he was kissing you again, swallowing your noises as you whined his name, fingers gripping his hair.
“Bedroom, now,” you told him. “Please -”
“Yeah, okay.”
He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, both of you stumbling down the small hallway and into your bedroom, Steve slamming the door closed behind him with his foot.
“No Robin?” he asked, lips finding your neck again.
“No - ah! She’s at Vickie’s tonight -”
“Thank Christ,” he growled. “I don’t know how quiet I’m capable of being right now.”
He was apparently as desperate as you were, lips finding yours hungrily as he pulled your oversized t-shirt over your head, eyes practically rolling to the back of his head when he saw your breasts.
“No bra?” he asked.
“I was lounging around, until you showed up -”
“Thank god,” he practically snarled, his hands finding the small of your back to pull you close.
You reached between yourselves, unbuttoning his shirt, fingers slipping as they shook with anticipation. He reached down to help you, until he eventually shrugged the shirt off. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your bare chest to his, nearly crying again from the contact.
“I really missed you,” he whispered, a man ruined. “I never thought I’d be able to have you like this again -”
“None of that,” you murmured, pressing a finger to his lips. “It’s alright.”
You just stared at him, running your hands down his chest as you took a deep breath.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” he asked, face flickering with concern. “Oh god, are - are you seeing someone else? I didn’t even ask -”
“No! No, nothing like that,” you assured, biting your lip. “I just - do you remember the night of my birthday on our trip, on the rooftop?”
He nodded. “That was a really nice night.”
“I haven’t been totally honest with you,” you admitted, heart racing as you were ready to lay out the thing you had been terrified to admit aloud.
“About what?” he asked softly, cupping your cheek gently with his palm.
“Remember when I said something in Italian, and you asked what it meant? And I just said it meant I loved the gift, the star thing?”
He nodded. You took a deep, shuddering breath.
“That wasn’t exactly true. I - I said that I was in love with you,” you managed, voice quivering at the end. “That’s why I was so scared - I didn’t realize until I said it… I had broken our rule, our number one rule -”
“Hey, hey -” he cooed, shaking his head. “Did you mean it?”
You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah - I still do.”
The few seconds that passed after that had your stomach doing somersaults - what if he still didn’t feel that way, and everything he had said in the doorway was bullshit? You thought you were going to be sick -
But his face softened, his eyes glistening - was he going to cry?
“Fuck the rules. I stopped following those a long time ago,” he said.
Your heart fluttered, your face heating.
“Are you saying -”
“How did you say it in Italian again?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I’ve been slacking on my lessons without you around.”
You laughed. “Oh, um, it’s sono innamorato di te. It translates directly as I’m in love with you, or I’m falling for you.”
He nodded. “Well then - sono innamorato di te.”
You felt like your chest was about to explode, and before you knew it, you were crying again. He was too, you realized, his cheeks glistening with tears as he choked a sob with laughter.
“We could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we both just said that in the first place,” he said, reaching to wipe away some of your tears.
“How long?” you asked.
“Since the night of the gala I brought you to. So… longer. I guess I win.”
You sobbed again, Steve swallowing the sound with another kiss. It’s wet and salty with tears, a mess of apologies and confessions.
“Steve - I -”
“I know, baby,” he whispered, kissing your salty cheeks. “It’s alright - I’m here now -”
The conversation truly stopped after that - you couldn’t keep your hands off of one another, shedding clothes until you were nude and devouring each other with desperation unlike anything you had ever felt before.
Steve was pressing his lips between your breasts when you asked, voice breathy and filled with need.
“Steve - I need you, please -”
“Mm - yeah, okay -”
Before he could move, you were reaching down to grasp his cock in your hand. He gasped, pupils blown as his head thumped back against the wall. The noise that came out of him was unholy, wrecked and ruined as you brushed your thumb along his leaking tip.
“Christ, baby -”
“Can I suck you off, please?” you asked, desperate to make him come undone. 
“Honey - you can’t - I just, I wanna fuck you so bad… I won’t last if I let you get your mouth on me, baby.”
You pouted, even as your heart raced with the thrill of knowing you’d have him inside you again.
“Next time,” he said, “I swear.”
A promise of a next time, of a thousand more times - you started kissing him again, lips bruising his - losing yourself in any drink or drug would never compared to losing yourself in Steve Harrington, you decided.
“Get on the bed,” he muttered, gently pushing you back. You did as he asked, falling back onto the mattress gently as he joined you, face hovering inches from yours.
His hair was a mess, pupils blown and lips glossy. He just shook his head, as if in disbelief.
“What?” you asked.
“You’re just so beautiful,” he breathed. 
You felt your face heat, and you buried your face in your hands.
“Shut up.”
“About you? Not likely.”
Before you could come up with a clever remark, he was kissing your neck again, his lips traveling down slowly between the valley of your breasts, taking his time - he was going to leave bruises, you already knew.
But he didn’t stop, traveling down, down, down - 
“What are you -”
“I never said I didn’t want to taste you first,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I miss having my mouth on you so fuckin’ much -”
“Fuck,” you gasped. “You’re unreal -”
“Says you,” he retorted. Whatever you planned to say next died on your lips, anything resembling a coherent thought dissolving as his lips found your cunt.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, back arching as his tongue swirled around your clit.
“Just as fuckin’ sweet as I remembered,” he whispered, his breath against your pussy making your chest heave.
He licked a stripe along your slit, making your back arch off the bed, your eyes fluttering closed.
“Be loud for me, baby,” he murmured, lips finding your clit again. You did as he asked, moaning and crying out his name as he devoured your pussy, eliciting desperate sounds from you as your fingers wound themselves in his hair. He groaned as you pulled on his locks, encouraging you to continue doing so as he opted to slide a finger inside you.
“Fuck - Steve! Ohmygod, fuck -”
You felt him smile as he lapped and licked at your folds, adding a second finger and beginning to pump them in earnest, finding that spot inside of you too easily. 
You were crying out, bucking your hips against Steve’s lips, like putty in his hands. For about ten minutes you were completely his, mind numb with pleasure as he took you apart with his mouth. You let him, feeling the blunt fingernails of his free hand digging into your thigh, pulling you as close as possible.
“Steve - I’m gonna - I’m so close, y’feel too good -”
Encouraged, he picked up the pace a bit, sending you completely over the edge. When you came, you saw stars, grinding down on Steve’s mouth and fingers. You were screaming, and he helped you through it, nuzzling against your core as you pulsed around his fingers. Your hand left his hair and found his temple, gently coaxing him closer as you rode out your orgasm.
You were still breathing heavily as he kissed his way slowly back up your body, worshiping every inch of skin he could find. YOu didn’t let your eyes open again until he was face-to-face with you, chin glistening with your release as he wore a smug grin.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmured. “Tasted so good… you came so hard for me -”
“Mm -” you hummed, pulling him down for a kiss. You tasted yourself on him, the sensation completely euphoric.
“Do you need some time?” he asked gently.
You ran a finger over your clit, still sensitive and puffy, and shook your head.
“No, I’m okay - I actually really need you to fuck me.”
“Thank god,” he said, exasperated. “I don’t think I can go another second without fucking you -”
“I know -”
“I would dream about you, you know - all the time. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a hard-on, of a mess in my boxers like a fuckin’ teenager -”
“I know what you mean,” you admitted, recalling a few times you had thought of him as you touched yourself since he’d left. 
“Please tell me you’re still on the fuckin’ pill -”
“Yeah, I am - God, Steve -”
“I know, I know - ready baby?”
You nodded, locking your eyes with his as he positioned himself above you, pushing inside of you ever so slowly. You could tell he was holding back, doing everything he could to not enter you in one rough movement. You winced at the stretch, nearly forgetting just how big he was. He kissed apologies across your face, gasping as he felt your warm walls envelope him.
“Fuck -” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “I can’t believe I went so long without this - you feel so fuckin’ perfect, baby - such a tight, perfect pussy -”
“You feel so good,” you breathed, digging your fingernails into his shoulderblades. “Steve - I’m so full, please fuck me -”
He did as you asked, rolling his hips against yours, eliciting a groan from both of you. He was still holding back you could tell - but you didn’t have time for that, not after months of missing him, of missing this -
“Let go, baby,” you whispered. “Please -”
“What did you just call me?” he asked.
“I - baby,” you repeated. You realized you never had before - was that wrong?
“Say it again,” he breathed.
“Baby,” you breathed, gasping as he thrust into you a little harder. 
“Baby, please - fuck me, let go,” you cried.
It became fast and hard quickly, the desperation you shared impossible to mask. The slapping of his hips against yours was positively dirty, Steve’s arms caging you underneath him as he pounded into you. Your hand snaked down between you, your own finger finding your clit.
“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, continuing his relentless pace. “Touch yourself for me, just like that - M’not gonan last long, I’m sorry, you just feel too good -”
“It’s okay,” you assured, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I want you to lose it.”
He groaned, the room filling with the sound of slapping skin and moans, your names on each other’s lips.
Nothing else mattered, not when Steve was making you feel like this, not when he had flown across an ocean on a whim, a desperate hope to just see you again, even if only for a moment. You suddenly became so overwhelmed with love for this man, this person who had turned your world upside down - it was indescribable, impossible to even express. So you just held him tight, burying your face into his shoulder.
“M’close - I need you to come with me, baby - can you do that? I know you can, you’re always so good for me -”
You nodded, unable to formulate words anymore.
“I fuckin’ love you,” he cried, hips stuttering, his thrusts growing sloppier. “So much, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you - I love you, baby -”
His words sent you over the edge, white-hot pleasure surging through your body as you screamed his name. The feeling of you clamping around him sending him into his own orgasm. He spilled inside of you, your name on his lips like a prayer. He practically collapsed on top of you, the feeling of his heartbeat against yours feeling like home, like it was always meant to be this way.
Your breaths were labored, sweet kisses peppered across skin. Neither of you spoke for quite some time. After he rolled off of you, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as physically possible.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, slow and gentle. It was only when you pulled back, brushing some of his sweaty hair away from his face, that you broke the silence.
“I love you, too,” you murmured. You brushed your fingers along his face, and he caught your wrist, pressing kisses to your palm and knuckles, as if determined to worship you every chance he got.
“I want more than an arrangement,” he whispered. “I don’t want rules, or a deal, or -”
“Yeah, that was obvious,” you replied, chuckling. “And, me too.”
“And, you were right - you have school, and I never wanted you to think I just wanted you like a trophy or something - you have your own life, aspirations, and i know that - I just like spoiling you, but I never wanted you to give up who you are,” he said, face soft. “I need you to know that.”
“I do,” you murmured.
You really did. 
“Besides, I graduated.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What? When?”
“Officially? A few days ago.”
He smiled, soft and sincere - part of you was worried he might cry again.
“Congratulations - I’ll have to take you out to celebrate.”
“Mm - sounds good to me. How long - when are you here until?”
There was still life to reckon with, after all - living on two different continents, jobs, obligations - the kind of thing that could ruin this. But, he just shook his head.
“I bought an open-ended ticket. So, until whenever you want.”
“I - what? What about work?”
He shrugged. “Turns out, when you run the place, you can get away with that stuff.”
Your jaw dropped.
“What? Are you serious?”
He nodded. “Brenner’s out. I’m in - youngest CEO in the company’s history.” 
You laughed, pressing your palm to your forehead as you stared at the ceiling in disbelief.
“Steve - that’s amazing. But how -”
“Shhh - we’ll figure everything out later. But, let’s at least ring in the new year together, yeah?”
You nodded cautiously - he really was here, now, and wanted to make it work.
“Okay,” you said. “Sounds good.”
“Hey - you know what’s really pissing me off, though?”
“What?” you asked, wary as a pit of dread formed in your gut.
“I have to thank Eddie fucking Munson for fixing this.”
You laughed, a real, hearty laugh, and in that moment, you realized things were going to be okay.
******
That night, you slept better than you had in months, safe and warm in Steve’s arms. That was, until you woke to Robin’s scream the next morning, both of you shooting up in bed with a start.
“WHAT IS HE DOING IN YOUR BED?” she cried, shielding her eyes. “God - I wish I could bleach my eyes - motherfucker -”
Then, the door was slamming shut, Robin bemoaning her luck as she bolted down the hall to her own room.
You felt your face heat with embarrassment, sinking under the covers.
“Well - I guess I owe her an explanation -”
“Later,” Steve saidly, shaking his head incredulously. “For Christmas, I’m getting you a fucking industrial lock for that door!”
Then you were laughing, blissful and unable to control yourself, Steve joining you. He kissed the giggles away, pulling your body to his, and not much talking happened after that.
It didn’t matter what real life held after this - because Steve was here, and he was yours. Wherever you ended up, you realized, if you were with Steve, you would be home.
He was here to stay.
author's note: Hi y'all - thanks for your patience! This story isn't quite done - there will be an epilogue posted tomorrow. But, that's essentially the conclusion of don't call me 'baby' - I told you it would be a happy ending! Shoutout to @is-writing for some help with this. And of course as always, Em, without whom this fic wouldn't have happened. Comments, reblogs, and messages are always welcome - keep an eye out for the epilogue!
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pynkgothicka · 6 months ago
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Kill For Your Love MYG
Synopsis- Yoongi tried his hardest to keep his crime life away from you, but some people really test him.
Pairing - Yandere! Dark! Mobster! Yoongi x AFAB! Reader
Featuring - No one!
Word Count - Around 1k
Tags and Warnings - Death, Murder, Fluff, Slight Gaslighting
Authors Note - Just something small I was working on. I believe I want to do more one offs since I’m offically done with school for the summer.
A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!
Staring at your reflection in the mirror you could only feel some sense of remorse. Mourning for the old person you were before you met him. Now you wore light makeup and put on dresses that hugged your body.
You would have never seen yourself looking like this if not for him.
The vanity was littered with photos he took of you and ones you took of him alike. He consumed your every waking thought and every hour. Even finding yourself trying to keep busy instead of sadly waiting for him to get home.
However today he wanted you with him. It was rare that you were allowed to go with him when he talked business. To be honest it just felt good being able to be with him and not just within his home.
You smiled at yourself before getting up and heading downstairs to see your boyfriend looking at his phone, a focused look on his face. “You look so hot like that.” You say walking past him and into the kitchen. You grabbed a box of cereal and poured it into a bowl.
Yoongi snickered looking at you. “Mhmm, and I love it when you get dressed up for me,” he says resting his hands on your hips as you pour milk into your cereal. You could feel your face heat up before his head rested on the small of your neck. He kissed it, taking in a deep shiff of your natural smell. “I love it when you wear this scent.”
“Aw stop it, you know I do it for you Yoongs.” You say turning to the side to place a small peck on his lips.
🚬
With his hand on your thigh and your head on his shoulder, you couldn't help but be more bored with the droning talk of deals and territories. You popped on and off your phone case, as Yoongis's voice rumbled in your ears.
“Yoongi, m’ ready to go…” You mumble, head-turning into his chest. Your boyfriend lets out a sigh before leaning over to kiss the crown of your head.
“Just a few more moments alright, then we can do whatever you want sweetheart,” Yoongi promised into your hair. You could tell the man he was talking to was becoming more agitated by your presence.
The man groans, Yoongi lifts his head to look at the man, his face is stern. “Are we gonna do business or not? I don't see why your girl has to be here.” The man complained. Yoongis eyebrow twitched at that. “She's being a fucking distraction, and I came to talk business. Are we doing the drop or what?”
You were slightly offended by the man's comments. You liked being around Yoongi, and he liked having you around for once. You didn't see why he had to be so negative.
Yoongi leans forward resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at the man. “You don't have enough respect for her, so you don't respect me, or my fucking business. So don't come at me talking about business.” Yoongi retorted raising his voice at the man. You were grateful for a man who would defend your honor.
“Dude you're all up in he-”
“Apologize.”
“What?”
Yoongi grabs your chin making you look at the man. You groan at the feeling, cheeks pressed in by his fingers. “Apologize to her,” Yoongi said, face showing little to no expression. You could see in his other hand, his gun rested casually. Thumb brushed against the barrel, an engraving of your name in gold. He got it done for your two-month anniversary. “Or you could get your brains blown out. I don’t care for either option.”
The man quickly begins to speak. “I'm sorry, Ma'am I'm very sorry.” Yoongi turns to look at you.
“And what do you say?”
“T-Thank yo-” But you cut off with a loud bang. And then your own loud scream.
🚬
Yoongi had planned a dinner later on in the car. Mainly as an apology for killing the man in front of you. Especially after he realized how shocked you were looking at the body afterward. You’d never been that close to that side of his life anymore.
You leaned on the island watching as he moved. His hand moved the wooden spoon gracefully as he sauteed the beef tips and potatoes. Your stomach groaned at the smell, however, his cooking always smelled this good.
“Yoongi, can I at least taste the seasoning you used?” You plead, doing your best puppy dog eyes for him. He only let out a chuckle, passing you a small bowl of beef tips with potatoes. You took a fork and began to eat, humming at the flavor. “You’re always such an amazing cook. Thank you… I know I usually cook but I appreciate the break baby.”
“I didn’t want you to have to worry about anything tonight. I want you to rest your nerves and chill out. It's the least I can do as an apology.” He says setting aside the finished entree. He turned to look at you, a genuine expression on his face. “I promised to not kill anyone in front of you when I first got you, and I broke that agreement over my anger.”
You practically swooned over that. He was so sweet in his own twisted way.
“I appreciate that so much. Maybe I should let you kill someone in front of me more often” Yoongi chuckled at that and nodded smiling at you.
“Nope, don't test it, baby.”
Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops @mayvalentine33
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secretly-dum · 2 years ago
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Joel Miller Headcanons
(please read warning/contents before reading)
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pairing: joel miller x reader
request: none
summary: nothing, just some ‘regular’ headcanons
warning/contents: romantic SFW and NSFW hcs (part 1?)
additional notes: here you guys go <3 I’m so sorry for being demotivated but fortunately not enough to not do this!! Thank you all for being patient with me <3
«──────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»
In a relationship with Joel (SFW):
-Would be so possessive around you in public, his hands would HAVE to be somewhere on you, to having your hand hold his to having his shoulder touching his.
-He’s soft in private, this man is TIRED of life and just wants you to be his cuddle buddy.
-Talking about cuddles, he LOVES to cuddle, especially when it’s cold and he needs to “warm up”(an excuse to sleep with you)
-But of course since this is Joel we are talking about, he acts ignorant and pretends that he doesn’t like cuddling(mostly because he doesn’t like showing his soft side to you, so reassure him that you won’t make fun of him for that)
-One time he needed to “warm up” so he slept beside you not touching you at all and when you woke up his leg was over yours and his arm was wrapped around you(he also refused that it was himself doing this and said that he ‘moves’ in his sleep).
-His love language is definitely words of affirmation and physical touch.
-He is SO deprived of both, if you even show an inch of both his heart literally just melts.
-PLEASE play with his hair, seeing his face hide his cute smile is so heartwarming.
-Uses so many pet names to refer to you, you can’t even count anymore, and some of them don’t even make sense(he called you ‘honeysuckle’ once).
-Will do anything in his way to protect, heal, and love you. This one guy is bothering you? All of a sudden he’s gone. You have a horrible wound? He’s stocked up with medicine immediately. You like figurines/toys? Will kill anyone and anything to get you a single figure/toy.
-Is more of a listener than a talker, he loves listening to you talk about your day and interests.
-Goes to you or Ellie every time he has free time, you guys are LITERALLY his world.
-Forces himself to understand confusing concepts of your interests if it means interacting with you.
-Hates it when you’re sad since he’s really not the best comforter, doesn’t know what exactly to do when you cry so he just holds you while you cry into him, it somehow works making you feel better every time.
-Goes to you and tests out his 4 dad jokes before telling them to Ellie, you always have to hold in your giggle when he’s trying to tell the jokes to Ellie.
-You and Ellie’s needs are in front of his, he could be on the brink of death but still do anything in his way to make sure you both are healthy and safe.
-Secretly thinks of you as Ellie’s parent, and sometimes makes up cute scenarios that make you all three look like a small family in his head (this hc makes me sob)
-At the start of the relationship he was hesitant to showing/expressing his feelings, but now since boundaries are set and he’s more comfortable, he will always tell you whether or not he’s feeling negative.
-Watches you as you sleep but not in a creepy way, he always have thoughts that make him think you’ll die in your sleep so he’ll stay up an extra few minutes to make sure your safe. He loves how comfortable and dreamy you look.
-If you make something for him, whether it be a joke or not, he’ll always keep it on him. You gave him a nut and made some stupid joke? It’s on top of his dresser with other things you and Ellie have gave him.
-Definitely gives you something back, if you keep it and he sees it somewhere he smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.
«──────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»
In a relationship with Joel (NSFW):
-I don’t care what ANYONE says this man is a switch who prefers to be a bottom.
-Despite him being strong physically and emotionally, he’s always so vulnerable and obedient to you.
-Won’t do any slapping, choking, and hitting to you unless you ask/tell him to, but nevertheless he will lightly hit you, feels weird to hit his lover.
-Will be quiet if you guys are in a slightly unsafe area, but will scream your name if you guys are in either his or your home.
-Did I mention how he won’t slap, choke, or hit you unless you ask? You can do all three to him and he’ll still say thank you (one time you asked him why he won’t do the same hitting to you and he said “It’s not the same” 😭)
-Whimpers and whines like a bitch, it’s incredibly pornographic and I’m wondering to this day who taught him to make such angelic noises.
-Begs and obeys, can’t be brat unless you catch him on a real bad day or he just wants a punishment from you.
-Doesn’t do any risky stuff like getting you pregnant or hurt but will gladly let you fuck him in a spot that could get you guys caught.
-If he’s being dominant, he will be a soft dominant, Joel once said “he loves you too much to be doing such ‘harsh’ things to you” (unless you ask him to!)
-Pussy AND cock drunk, he’s addicted to you and your pussy/dick. Would be licking/sucking you for hours if he could (bisexual!joel is real).
-Overstimulation kink, which goes for both ways if you want. He loves it when he says he can’t take it anymore and you say he can.
-Your touch lingering over his body has him so turned on, the anticipation of how you’ll touch him turns him on so bad.
-Loves it when you mark him, bites, hickeys and etc. If you mark him on somewhere visible, he’ll show it off like a trophy.
-Likes bondage, seeing you all tied up and the curves of your body being more visible to him has him in a chokehold.
-He tells you that you taste so sweet and good, even if you haven’t showered that day(let’s be honest barely anyone showers in TLOU anymore)
-For some weird reason, seeing you sweat or have someone else’s blood on you turns him on a lot. Something about seeing you like that makes him want to fuck you right then and there.
«──────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»
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elihashadenough · 9 months ago
Text
as the poets say
Pairing: max verstappen x male reader (could be read by masc presenting people)
Summary: i would recognize him by touch alone, by smell, i would know him blind. I would know him in death, at the end of the world
warnings: sad, sad angst, i felt bad writing this. Angst, f1 stuff, talk about burns, fire, negative emotions.
a/n: this was a silly little revenge fic though its not silly anymore...i do wanna apologize to leo...I am sorry leo, apology fic is coming i promise
-> do not repost, copy or translate my works nor post them anywhere else. Read at your own risk. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated.
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“𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖙,” “𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑”
The moon light softly shone through the curtains in the bedroom window, footsteps could be heard outside the door “now come on off to bed you two” sounds of laughter filled the corridor. Joy, happiness, content all the feelings one could feel that made them at peace Max felt with yn beside him. Max felt happiness everyday he opened his eyes to see yn laying beside him, he felt joy everyday he saw yn, he loved the way he could just rest his head on yn’s shoulder and would feel all the worries of the world fade away.
“Max? why are you standing there like statue, you should be resting” Yn’s voice interrupted max’s thoughts “uh-I-” y/n walks towards max and guides him to the bed of the apartment they were staying in during the race week. “I’m fine ynn, you don’t have to worry about me” max said as he sat down “you just want me to let you race by the end of the week, yet you had concussion” y/n says as he walks into the en-suite bathroom to get ready for bed himself “yeah but that was at the start of the week, I’m fully rested now and feel okay” y/n looks at max with the toothbrush in his mouth before he turns and spits the paste out “okay well then how many times did we go on a date before you asked me to be your boyfriend?” y/n asks with a smirk knowing it wouldn’t do anything but it was fun to tease max “oh come on baby” max whined softly as he walked over to y/n and rested his hands on y/n’s waist and looked at him through the mirror “…” y/n looks at max trying to hide his smile “you are such a tease” max said as he kissed the (h/c) head “learnt it from the best you know” y/n said turning around to see max shake his head “so…can I race??” y/n sighed at that and looked at max “oh oh omg! you are scared that I’m going to win and you’ll lose” max laughed as he said that whist y/n gave him a look that clearly said ‘bitch be fucking for real right now’ max controlled his laughter “well I guess I’ll just have to show you that I’m a better racer then you Mr.Verstappen” y/n said as he turned around and walked out the bathroom “let’s see who wins Mr.Verstappen” max said as he walked after y/n who sat on the bed looking at max, who climbed into the bed already knowing y/n was waiting for his cuddles. He opened his arms as y/n smiled and cuddled close resting his head on max’s chest playing with his fingers. “There is something on your mind…” max says as he looks down at y/n “I know you are trying to hide it, you’ve been doing it the whole day” max adds as y/n shrinks down “what’s going on baby?” max asks as y/n shakily sighs “well…I-I’ve been thinking-” y/n starts talking before being interrupted “a lot of it obviously” max says as y/n smiles and shook his head “let me continue before I chicken out please” max nods with a soft smile “sorry continue”
“so um-I-I’ve been thinking abo-thinking that this…this season might be my last” y/n says after taking a deep breath, Max seemed shocked, he was right to be shocked. Racing was yn’s dream forever, the only thing that mattered to him before max and the children was racing. He would put everything he had into racing, y/n was very clear about when max asked him to be his boyfriend. “are you sure about it?” max asked sitting up as when sat up and looked at max “I think I am…especially after your crash, it-it scared me too much. I-I know we both have had close calls in the past b-but this one was different, it was too real. I didn’t know what was going to happen, I had to keep driving my eyes were starting to water I couldn’t focus. I didn’t know what I’d do without you but you were okay, but as I walked into the hospital room to get you and just I couldn’t help but think” max knew how hard y/n was trying to hold himself together, he grabbed y/n’s hand in his as y/n continued “I couldn’t help but think what would happen to ashton and riley if something happened…to either one of us or both of us” max couldn’t help but pull y/n in for hug, he knew what it would’ve taken y/n to make such a decision “I know this was hard for you and I will fully support you with this in any way you want. It was always going to be your decision, I would never force you to leave and I’d never force you to stay.” Max says as he whispers making y/n smile “thank you for understanding, I was really scared of how you’d react for some reason” Max shook his head before softly kissing y/n “like I said it was always your decision baby”  
“but that doesn’t mean I won’t beat you in tomorrow’s race” y/n says with a smirk close to max’s face who thought y/n was leaning in for a kiss “you-” and that’s when y/n leaned in and kissed max while trying to control his smile. Max pulled y/n closer with hands on his waist, the kiss seemed to deepen itself, gentle but still passionate. Flipping y/n onto his back max leaned over him, hands beside y/n’s head “look at you…are you sure you are going to win baby?” max whispered in y/n’s ear before pulling him in for a kiss again…
{The next day}
Light passing through the sheer curtains makes max turn his back towards the window but sleep had already escaped him, he sighed softly opening his eyes looking at y/n who was still sleeping peacefully, blanket covering him though max could still see the marks from last night littering y/n’s body. Max couldn’t help but softly move y/n’s hair off his face, in a trillion years max couldn’t have thought he would have someone like y/n be his husband but here he was laying beside the love of his life, the half of his soul, as y/n would say sometimes or had saved his name on his phone with. Max felt y/n move beside him “good morning ynn” max whispered softly as y/n softly whined and moved closer to max “can you tell the sun to shut up” max laughed and pulled y/n closer “I don’t think the sun would listen to me baby” max says softly as y/n looks at max “why are you more comfortable then the bed?” y/n asks as max runs a hand through his hair, but before max could answer there was a soft knock on the door knowing it was one of the kids. Max grabbed the shirt from the floor and passed it to y/n before grabbing his own sleeping gown as he opened the door for the kids “good morning” y/n whispers softly as both of the kids run over to y/n “good morning papa” ashton says as max walked over to sit on the bed and smiled at you “so no good mornings for dad??” max asks jokingly as y/n looked at the kids as all three of them laughed “dad stinks, so no good mornings for dad” riley says as she cuddles close to y/n, her teddy held close to her. These were the types of morning max loved, slow and gentle sort of mornings where everything was quiet but not in an eerie way but in calm way. In a way that made you want to drag out the morning longer.
{race night}
A kiss shared between the two before getting in their respective cars, ready to get in their racing mode. Y/n closed his eyes before sighing ready to win this.
Time was going by fast out and inside of the cars. At every turn people held their breaths. Max had fallen behind y/n, he smirked at thought as he tried to speed up. He was soon close to passing y/n’s car, but it seemed too easy it was never easy to pass by y/n everyone on the grid knew that “is y/n’s car okay?” max asked on the radio as he passed by y/n “he is having slight problem with the car, he might have to box” the answer came, and max felt sad for y/n but he had to focus on the race.
That was the last time he saw y/n on the track, thinking y/n had boxed and had been pissed. Max had gotten the podium, what surprised was that y/n was not there as he usually was no matter how bad the race had been for him, he would always be there for max. Max had walked into the cool down room, where y/n would usually wait for him if he was in the cool down room before him but y/n was nowhere to be seen, max felt uneasy. Charles and Daniel had entered the cool room and both seemed like they had seen a ghost “why do you both look like you have seen a ghost?” max laughed as he sat down to drink some water in that moment the other two races look at the door to see max and y/n’s manager enter the room with a same face as Charles and Daniel who exchanged a look before looking back at max “Max…we-we have to tell you something before you go on the podium” Charles says as he moves closer to max, max looked at him and Charles was clearly trying to control himself but max didn’t know why though he had a feeling that he wished with every bone in his body wasn’t true. Daniel couldn’t even look at max in this moment, lost in his own thoughts.
They knew they couldn’t let him get on that podium without having known this whilst everyone else knew what had happened.
Max looked at Daniel, y/n’s best and closest friend outside of max, his gaze then turned to their manager who was looking at max and charles. And finally max looked at charles “what is it charles?” max asked holding eye contact with him. The long pause seemed like it was hours long but in real it was mere seconds before charles answered “th-there…max…there was a crash” max knew it deep down what charles meant but he wasn’t ready to believe it “what do you mean there was crash? Was it after I had crossed the line??” max asked pulling himself away from charles a little
“max it-” this time it was Daniel and max’s eyes snapped to him “who was it?” max’s voice sounded urgent almost as if he was in some sort of hurry “max-” charles says as he lays his hand on max’s shoulder but max shrugged the hand off and cut off charles “I asked…who was in the crash?” max asked again, the manager moved closer and looked at max.
“it was-it was y/n’s car…he lost control of it cause of the engine and-” charles looked at the manager to get them to stop “he needs to know” was the only thing they said before continuing while max just looked at them hoping it was some cruel joke and y/n would just come in through the door with his usual teasing smirk but alas it wasn’t “the car caught fire-” Max’s breath was caught is his throat, he felt like every bit of gravity in the world was trying to pull him down but he had to be with y/n, his words playing through max’s mind ‘I didn’t know what I’d do without you’  “max max, wait- wait a max you have to wait…he’s in surgery-”  max looks at charles “stop-i-I need to be there when he wakes up he will be- I cant leave him alone” max looks at the manager “I need to go to the hospital right now”
{flashback}
Y/n smiled as he heard the soft tune of the music, he had just put ashton to bed for a nap. Max's eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle as he walked over to the couch, y/n focused on the book he was reading already knowing what max was going to do. Without a word, max reached out his hand, a silent invitation laced with the promise of an unforgettable moment.
"Care to dance?" Max's voice was soft like a pillow, carrying a hint of excitement. A smile that mirrored his excitement spread across y/n’s lips as he nodded, "Of course."
With that, Max led y/n away from the comfort of the couch and into the centre of the room. The music wrapped around them like a warm embrace of the tune of the song. "You know this song always gets to me," Max murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth as he pulled y/n close. "I do know that" y/n replied softly, feeling his heart flutter at the intimacy of the scene. "It's like it was made for us."
"You're a vision tonight," Max whispered, his breath tickling y/n’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. Y/n couldn't help but chuckle at max’s playful flirtation. "I’m wearing sweats, and you think I look like a vision. Smooth talker," y/n teased, leaning into max’s touch. "It's easy when I'm dancing with the most beautiful person in the room," Max replied, a smirk on his face whilst his gaze remained unwavering as he held y/n close. In that stolen moment, surrounded by nothing but the music and the warmth of Max's touch, y/n felt a surge of emotion welling up inside him as he said
"You are half my soul,"
{flashback end}
“max, Max” the manager shook max’s shoulder to get his attention “we are here” the manager said in a soft voice, max nodded and got out the car walking into the hospital but with the news already broken people were gathering around. Max had no energy to deal with anyone, he ignored everyone around him. The manager led him into the hospital but max doesn’t say much except a thanks as the memories of y/n clouded his mind as if it were a slow motion movie.
Max now sat in the waiting room while y/n was still in the operation room, max was now told that as the car caught on fire y/n tried to pull himself out but he didn’t realise that his legs were stuck. Max felt like his whole world had stopped, he tried to hold in his emotions not wanting to cry.
{flashback}
Under the shade of their favourite oak tree, max and y/n sat close together back against the trees. Their laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves, their children playing in the background, y/n couldn’t help but smile at mundane and calm it all was. In that moment max stole a glance at y/n, the golden afternoon sunlight painting his features in a soft glow. "You know, you look absolutely breath-taking in this light," max murmured, y/n turned and looked him, y/n’s cheeks red with blush as he chuckled softly “you are flatterer, but thank you” he whispered, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, max reached for his phone, carefully trying to take a picture "What are you doing?" y/n asked, a playful curiosity dancing in his gaze. Max grinned, taking a quick picture now, before y/n could protest. "Capturing the moment," he replied, max heart fluttered at the candid shot of y/n's genuine smile.
{flashback end}
Max is brought out of his thoughts by the nurse coming out the operation room and as max looked at the nurse “he is still under surgery, it will take a while” the nurse said softly before leaving. Max leaned his head against the wall with his eyes closed not wanting to think about anything anymore-he just wanted y/n to be okay. In that moment the manager walks over to max and lightly shakes him “it’s the nanny” max looks at the phone and was quick to realize it was y/n’s, a soft sigh leaves max’s lips as he grabs the phone, as max puts the phone close to his ear he realizes the kids are on the call instead of the nanny “papa?” he hears ashton’s voice “hey kiddo, its dad” max tries to make his voice sound happy as much as he could in the moment “dad, where’s papa?” the 5 year old asked “um-he-he is just busy with something”
“b-but papa said he would read us a story” the 5 year old on the call sounded as if he was about to cry “hey hey ash please don’t cry…how-how about I read the story to you and riley?”
{timeskip}
[sad ending]
It felt like years had passed by just waiting in the waiting room, this time the surgeon appears with the same nurse as before with the look on their faces almost made max want to throw up. Max was still in his entire racing suit, he felt like it was constricting him feeling too close to his skin.
“We’re sorry. Y/n’s injuries were deeper and too severe then we predicted. He passed away, there was nothing more we could do” the surgeon says, it felt like the world came crashing down onto Max’s shoulders, he carried weights everyday at gym yet this weight felt like it would crush him. Max wasn’t even breathing at this point he almost falls back and drops into the chair “we’ll give you a moment” the surgeon says before looking at the manager.
Max’s tries to say something but all that could escape his throat was a sob.
They just had a talk about this, y/n was supposed to announce his retirement after this race. They were going to go back to their house after the season, they had planned it all. All of it lost in mere moments.
Max was the one who was reckless driver, if something like this were to ever happen it was supposed to be him, he’d be the one who was in that room.
Maybe this was a just a horrible nightmare he is getting cause of his concussion, maybe he is still a sleep in the hotel bedroom they were staying in.
There was clear denial, he didn’t want to think about it. It hurt to think about it a sort of hurt where someone had torn his limbs agonisingly slowly to cause him the worst pain they could.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked at the manager before looking at the surgeon “can-can I see him?” max asks his voice trembling and unrecognizable. Cracked and distorted like it was a child asking their dad for something after being shouted at. The surgeon looked at the manager before looking at max and nodding “of course”
The nurse who had come out earlier gives max a sympathetic smile before disappearing to make sure y/n was okay to be seen, before coming out the room and letting max in. Y/n’s body was covered by a white sheet, max walked closer only for him to close his eyes and turn and leave the room.
He couldn’t, he couldn’t see the love of his life like this. He couldn’t see ‘the half of his soul’ like this.
----
Telling the kids alone was an emotional turmoil but he had to tell them, they had the right to know. But having to be at the funeral made max numb, with hearing sorries from every corner and person who walked by him. Daniel and Charles (the kid’s god fathers) were looking after the kids who though didn’t completely understand but knew they had lost something. Max just sat there, not being able to say a word. He hadn’t cried once after seeing y/n in the room. Max just stared at the coffin as eulogies and heartfelt speeches were given.
Y/n’s gone, he’s gone…forever.
Max could never be the same, he could never be able to look at anything in the same way. It was all grey now. Max sat there not wanting to leave, he couldn’t even think about leaving. He sits there until Victoria walks over to him “…its time to go max” she says softly while putting a hand on his shoulder gently “we can come back later” she says before offering him, her hand. To her max had never looked so drained in a way. He looked like someone had sucked all of the joy out of him, max looked weak to her, max was never weak even when they were kids. He always tried to be strong no matter what had happened.
In that moment both charles and daniel came over to the two siblings. Daniel kneeled in front of max whilst charles grabs max’s hand “max come on, you can’t sit here all day” charles says and with that max got up though he didn’t tear his gaze away from the now buried coffin “he-he was supposed to retire after this season, he scolded me about not being safe and careful and being reckless, he we-we were working on having another kid” tears starting to gather in his red itching eyes, blurring his vision. Max’s voice raw and cracked “we will get you through this max, we will always be here for you…always” Daniel pulled max in for a hug. For Daniel, y/n was the person who got him through the darkest of times. Daniel loved y/n, loved him like little brother. Y/n was like a family for everyone on the grid, he’d leave everything that happened on the track on the track and help anyone who’d need his help off track.
Daniel was there when y/n told him about max, daniel was there when the two married, had their first kid. He was there since day one. And the same went for charles. Charles knew, he knew the depth of the love max felt for y/n, he would spent hours and hours talking about y/n even after they were married. Charles wasn’t even sure how they were going to help him through this because really he was not sure there will ever be a day that max could truly ever move on from y/n.
____________
‘I could have never imagined you not being here, its been 6 months and I still don’t know how to live without you. You brought light to my life and now its dark I can’t see anything without you, I miss you a lot more than I realized. Things keep happening and I find myself wishing I could tell you about them’
‘its been a year and I’ve been writing to you every day…I don’t even know why I do it but it just makes me feel at peace, that for a moment I’m hugging you again, that I have you in my arms again.
In the past year we did move from the house we bought together, I wrote to you about when that happened, it was too much to stay in that house for the kids…and me if I’m being honest.
You know whats funny, ever since Riley’s 5th birthday she is been very keen on getting into karting and eventually getting into f1. We had plans on getting both of them into karting and seeing where it went for them so I might do it…but I’m scared, I have fears now. I don’t even want to talk about it or even think about it. When she talks about karting she almost gets the same smile you did when you talked about racing. I try hard for them, I even go to therapy regularly and I know you will be cheering right now. God I miss you every second of the day, with everything I do. From going to the gym, to cooking food, it just makes me miss you too much’
‘its here 14 years later, riley made her debut in f1. She was so excited and instead of her being nervous I was but I remembered what you’d you tell me when I would be nervous ‘I’m right here…always’ but you…you weren’t there but I knew you were there in sprit supporting riley, I could feel your excitement somehow. Especially after she got the podium, it was a feeling, a deep feeling. I guess you were right…you are half my soul’
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[happy ending for leo:)]
It felt like years had passed by just waiting in the waiting room, this time the surgeon appears with the same nurse as before. Max couldn’t figure out anything from the surgeon’s facial expression “h-how is he?” max finally asked, the surgeon gives a sympathetic smile “...he is going to be okay, he did code during the operation but he is okay” the surgeon says, it felt like the pressure on his shoulders was lifted. Max felt like he could finally breathe, relieve taking over his body that he almost falls back and drops into the chair “we’ll give you a moment” the surgeon says with a gentle smile.
Max sat there for a moment, trying to say something like a thank you but all that could escape his throat was grateful sob.
Max felt grateful, max just wanted to hold y/n. He had assumed the worst, he thought that his whole life would come plummeting down but y/n was okay, his husband was okay.
He felt a hand on his shoulder in that moment, he wiped some tears that escaped his eyes and looked up at the manager before looking at the surgeon “can-can I see him?” max asks his voice trembling trying not to cry for sheer happiness. The surgeon looked at the manager there was some hesitation in the surgeon’s eyes before looking at max and nodding “of course but he needs to be shifted into a room first”
With that the surgeon smiled at left while the nurse from earlier gave max a sympathetic smile before disappearing to make sure y/n was okay to be moved to a private room already knowing about the crowd forming outside.
The nurse from earlier came out the operation room and asked max to follow him. Arriving to the room y/n was taken into the nurse opened the door before letting max in. Y/n laid there, eyes closed, oxygen mask on his face, max took a deep breath as he walked further into the room. He could’ve never imagined seeing y/n like this, in such a condition. Max’s eyes fell on y/ns hand closest to him, wrapped up in bandages “the surgeon is going to come back in a few to explain everything” the nurse says before leaving.
Max looked at y/n before pulling a chair beside the bed to look at y/n “I thought I was the one who would give you a scare… not the other way around y/n/n” max whispered before he hears the door to the room slide open. The doctor looked at max and nodded as max got up and looked at the doctor “how are you holding up?” the doctor asked max “I’m doing okay, I just want to make sure y/n is okay” max answered not looking directly at the doctor, who smiled sympathetically “he will be…if you are by his side holding his hand, he will be okay” the doctor says as max looks at them and nods “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to reply to me honestly” max frowned at that and nodded “go ahead”
“is y/n passionate about driving, I know you both are race car drivers so I want to make sure” the doctor asks, max frowned “…he-he is passionate about it but we-we just talked last night about him wanting this to be his last season” the doctor nodded “well I don’t think y/n will be able to drive by the end of the season, the crash that happened had massive effect on his legs which also caused blood loss.” Max nodded and looked at y/n, taking a deep breath “yeah…I figured that…is-will-will he be able to walk again?” max asks looking at the doctor now who nodded “there is potential, with extensive physical therapy he will be able to…but with recovering patients it is very common to feel stuck or like nothing is happening and they would need someone to be a shoulder they can lean on” the doctor says completely making sure that it was clear to Max, who tried very hard not to hold y/n’s burned hand “the burns-” the doctor starts but is cut off by max “I-I thought the suits were fire proof” max says as the doctor nodded “they are fire proof, but the fire was too harsh and because of the fire proof suit he got first degree burns that will heal pretty quickly…as for right now he is sleeping cause of the pain meds so he is going to wake up in a few hours. I would recommend you be here when he does wake up” the doctor says with a sympathetic smile and walks out after patting max’s shoulder.
Max looked at y/n, he sniffed and moved his chair to the other side of the room so he could hold y/n’s uninjured hand though there was an IV in it. Max gently grabbed y/n’s hand “you are a real ass you know that” max whispers “all that talk about being safe and careful just seemed to be for me, huh?” max laughed as he was joking with y/n in that moment, hoping for y/n to wake up and laugh at this and make some snarky comment but he was met with silence. Max rested his head on the bed while looking at Y/n, eventually falling asleep himself.
Max felt someone’s hand in his hair, playing with it gently. Eyebrows frowned as he woke up and looked at y/n, max sat there looking at y/n in shock who softly smiled “y-y*groan*you look li-li*cough*like you’ve seen a ghost” max snapped out of the shock and got up pulling y/n in a hug keeping in mind to be gentle “I-I’ll get you some water” max says in a hurry before walking to the table to get the water, he walks back to y/n before helping him drink the water “you are okay” max breaths out as y/n smiled “I-I’m okay” he moved his hand and held max’s hand but max saw the look on y/n’s face “…the doctor told you?” max asks as he sits on the edge of the bed as y/n nodded “i-i…I don’t know w-what to feel” y/n says and looked down at his hand that held max’s who grabbed the had gently and kissed y/n’s knuckles softly “I will be by your side through all of this y/n/n” max whispers as he wipes the tears that escaped y/n’s eyes “I’ll always be here”
{timeskip 3 weeks later}
Both max and y/n with the kids were back home, max had seen y/n’s mood change a lot. He would usually spend a lot of his off time playing with the kids or working on his many hobbies, but after getting back y/n had just either been in their room or in the dining room for dinner when max would help bring him out the room. Max had talked to y/n about it but he just said “I’m fine, I can’t move my legs without your help that’s why I’m in the room most of the day” max would sigh “you can tell me when you want to be out the room” y/n just shook his head and closed his eyes as he was already laying down “I’m getting sleepy, I wanna sleep”
It had been a few days since max had talked to y/n about it, now they were in the car with the kids after y/n’s physical therapy. The car had never been this silent, it seemed like the kids sensed that something was wrong, max sighed and looked at the rear-view mirror and put on a smile “you guys waannnt to get chicken nuggets??” max asked and both the kids perked up and nodded “yayyy” riley says excitedly, max looks at y/n who had small smile on his face hearing riley’s excited-ness “would you like something too?” max asks y/n who nods and moves his hand to hold max’s free hand “I’ll have my usual…” he adds with a soft smile looking at max who nods with a soft smile
Sitting in their bedroom max looks at y/n “you seemed better today…” max said as y/n sighed softly before looking at max “I’m sorry…I know I haven’t been the best hus-anything actually” y/n moves his hand close to max’s before pausing and pulling his hand away though max grabbed y/n’s hand and smiled at him, in a way encouraging y/n to talk “I-I knew I told you that I would leave racing after the season but…I-I was actu-actually excited about the last couple of races but this-this just destroyed everything I had worked for…I don’t-don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to drive again” Max had never seen y/n this disheartened, no matter what would happen y/n would always try and be positive but this was a completely different side of y/n that max had never in the 6 years they had been together. “...you could drive y/n/n, you just need to work hard to get to that point…your physical therapist said today, you were showing improvement way more improvement then last week” max says as he moves closer to y/n, gently pulling him in a hug “I’m sorry…” y/n whispers again only for max to kiss his forehead and whisper “it’s okay baby…we will figure this out”
{timeskip}
It had been a month since the conversation, ever since y/n’s mood and behaviour improved quite a lot, he felt like his old self which not only impacted his mood but his performance in physical therapy.
After having dropped the kids at day-care, max and y/n were now at the physical therapy. As they entered y/n smiled at his physical therapist, they had planned a surprise for max as he hadn’t been there the past week as ashton had caught the flu. After the usual warmup and exercises the physical therapist looks at y/n before saying “why don’t we try walking without the railings?” that caught max’s attention “are you sure he is ready?” he asked in a concerned tone as y/n tries to hide his smile. In all honesty they had tried walking without railing before and y/n exceled in it with flying colours “he is been walking very smoothly with the railings it’s only right to give it try without railing”
“I wanna give it a try” y/n’s voice interrupts what max is about to say, he smiles at max “I think it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try you know…and if does I’ll say” y/n smiled at the joke he made which in turn made max shook his head “let’s give it a try then” max says as he stands up properly just in case as y/n stands up with the help of the physical therapist who gives him an encouraging smile and whispers “let’s surprise him”
Y/n takes a couple careful steps with the help of the physical therapist before dropping his hand and in that moment max moves closer to grab y/n but he stops max “just…just look” y/n adds as he walks towards max who seemed to be in a shock. In that moment y/n’s gym trainer enters the room they were in and just stands there in complete and utter shock. Y/n smiles as he grabs max’s hand and gently pulls him in a hug, max’s mouth hangs open like he is just seen a ghost…but in a good way. Max couldn’t help himself when he pulled away and pulled y/n in for a kiss who laughed softly before whispering “what did you think about the surprise?” y/n had his usual cheeky smile that had made max fall for him in the first place.
{timeskip}
As the moment got closer, his heart raced. Breathing shallow, palms sweaty as with each step gets heavier as doubts ran through his mind. Yet, there is a flicker of determination pushed him forward.
A hand on his shoulder snaps him out of his mind “y/n?” Daniel’s voice enters his ears making him look over his shoulder and put on a smile “ready for the first race of the season?” Daniel asks already knowing the anxieties running through y/n’s mind “a li-little nervous but I’m ready to beat you…again” y/n laughed a little at daniel’s offended look “sure you will” he says as he sees max walking over “well your ‘other half’ is here, that’s my queue to leave” daniel says jokingly before getting up, patting y/n’s shoulder as max walks over and sits beside his husband.
“how are you doing?” max says as he hands y/n his balaclava and helmet “…it’s okay to feel nervous baby” max whispers grabbing y/n’s hand, gently and unconsciously running his thumb over y/n’s wedding ring “I know-I know its okay to feel nervous but-but I have never fekt this nervous before stepping into the car” Max nods “I get that, and the trainer said that this feeling is natural after…after everything that happened” max turns y/n’s face towards him “you are going to be okay…I know you will be y/n/n” y/n looks at max and smiles “…well then get ready to loose Mr.Verstappen” max laughs at that as he shakes his head “we will see who wins, Mr.Verstappen…but whoever does win gets to pick how the night ends” Max smirks as he looks up when y/n stands up and reaches his hand out “deal” the smirk on y/n’s face made max happy to have gotten his y/n back.
Walking over to his car, he looks at max and pulls his balaclava and helmet before getting in his car and closes his eyes for a moment before he hears “its lights out and away we go”
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, danielriccardo and 809,988 others
ynln-offcial: From physical therapy, to everyday walks with ashton and riley to getting p1 in the first race of the season. And I want to thank everyone for all the well wishes, and most of all I want to thank max, daniel and charles for supporting me through it. But as all things come to an end by announcing what I should’ve announced during the last season.
I hereby announce my retirement at the end of the 2024 season. I’m a sole believer in looking forward rather than looking at the past, and I believe it is time for me to move on to something more. The decision was definitely a hard one but it does come to the reason of leaving, f1 has always been my top priority and my passion ever since I can remember but as things change so does my passions and goals for life change and racing no longer goes side by side with my wishes and goals moving forward. Though I love this sport and will always have a special place in my heart for all it’s given me and taught me, it’s time to move on. The memories made will forever be ones to cherish and love. Thank you for letting me share the track with you and goodbye.
x yn
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maxverstappen1: ❤️ ❤️      *liked by ynln-official*       ynln-official: love you ❤️
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this was longer then i realized so enjoy this angst piece children (lmao) i haven't proof read this so if there were any mistakes, i'm sorry. But i hope you all enjoyed this. I hope you all have a wonderful day/night ❤️
tagging: @leosxrealm (i'm sorry for this)
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2kiran · 1 year ago
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I read through your rules and i think my request should be fine but even so, please let me know if you don't wanna write it!
If you're still doing requests... can you write something for Price x male reader where Reader's a bit younger than him and he's never drank before ever. And he hides it to not seem like a loser or anything (lol) but when the team goes out drinking after a mission he gets served higher alcohol content bc they thought he'd be a heavy drinker?
No smut, just maybe hurt/comfort and fluff? Ignore this if you wouldn't like to <3
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꒦⁺ DRUNK (NOT AGAIN) —— JOHN PRICE
modified 30.08.24 | HURT/COMFORT
content ˖ ࣪ ˖ affectionate price, male reader, may be read as platonic or romantic, reader is 2+ years younger, descriptions of injuries, mentioned violence, tf141 included, insecurity (love, towards r), drinking, tipsy reader, crying (r), kissing & hugging
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The mission was successful. The medevac helicopter was arriving soon, allowing time for a small discussion. Only minutes prior, it was havoc, alerting all of you. The enemy had set a trap, causing a few fuck-ups on your side.
Soap clutched at his side with a cloth, “Aye cap, think we can go for some drinks ‘fter this?” He let out a pained grunt when he applied too much pressure.
Price sighed in response, opening a box in the deserted warehouse that had the necessary equipment for a few stitches. “As long as you don’t pass out right now.”
Gaz sent a wary glance at their way, dabbing a cotton that was soaked in antibiotic ointment on his slashes. Ghost, who stayed in his own corner, only had a few small cuts. Your own injuries were long forgotten as you registered their words.
The problem with their agreement was that you’ve never drank, not even one sip. Ever displaying a good image of yourself, you didn’t want to find out how you were when you’re drunk. Alcoholic beverages have never been one of your interests. Being aware of the fact that people who were younger than you spent their precious time clubbing and drinking away their problems without a care made it worse.
You didn’t want anyone to view you negatively for that, especially them. That included not telling a single soul and rejecting invitations to parties. You just didn’t want to be seen as a ‘kill joy’ when you tell them that you’ve never touched alcohol.
It also meant avoiding questions from drunkards and lying when they’re pestering you too much. The constant ‘what if’s of being just average ate away at your brain. You didn’t want your team to see you as a good-for-nothing loser that they could easily discard at any given time. Maybe if you left they—
“Hey.”
You didn’t respond.
“Hey.”
One, two, three, four seconds pass.
“Look at me.” You blinked.
Your vision refocused, blurry gaze dissipating. You had zoned out. Price stood in front of you, urging you to tilt your head to look up at him. The blinding lights hung on the ceiling, leaving prominent shadows across the room. The silhouette gracefully traced over his features.
The both of you were in the infirmary, all patched up and wounds cleaned. Left alone together, away from the others. “Sorry. You were saying?” You asked, embarrassed warmth spreading across your cheeks.
A ghost of a smile quirked from his cheeks, “Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse from exhaustion.
“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?” You slightly stumbled over your words as an ache from your side had you stilling. He nodded, eyes traveling over your form. His usual sharp eyes softened upon continuing his inspection of you as if you were made of extra fragile porcelain. The certain look in his eyes and how his attention lingers on you could be compared on how he stares at his precious hat for far too long.
“We’re going to a bar. You joining, love?” A tentative question, which makes you ponder on answering. You hum in agreement, not wanting to ruin the moment.
-
Maybe you should’ve rejected the offer like you always did.
The bar was dimly-lit, lights darting throughout the space, while slow, almost seductive music danced from the speakers. There were several people in the bar, including the bartenders. All harboring the same mysteriousness that you took for suspicion. It wasn’t quiet, booming laughter erupted from some, while the rest had their voice hushed in a whisper. Most of them were drunk, you noted.
“Finally.” Soap dramatically sighed, stretching his arms as he chooses a booth.
“It’s really been that long?” Gaz responded in a question to soap’s enthusiasm. Surprisingly, Ghost joined. He wasn’t going to drink for the sake of privacy, of course, the sergeants just managed to convince force him. The three sat close to each other while you and price were next to one another. It made you tingle in anticipation and fright.
A waiter approached, and they all responded with ‘something heavy’. You gulped nervously, telling the man the same thing.
Every minute that passed had you fidgeting, made you begin to bounce your leg up and down as you waited and waited and waited. You itched to tell them the truth, but you’ll only look like a coward. The others spoke about nonsense and such, while the captain’s attention was on you.
He was aware that something was wrong, but he couldn’t point his finger at what it could be. The impulsive side of his brain wanted to ask you directly, right here in front of the team. But he knew how closed off and irritable you could get in situations like these, so he rather keep his mouth shut.
The waiter arrived with your drinks on a tray, foam sizzling and a dented lemon on the rim of the glass. It whiffed of high worth, the house of the liquid appearing expensive itself. The stem was thinner than you originally thought it would be. It was appetizing, and you start to understand why people spend their time on drinking this. However, you’ve heard of people’s first times, most of them stating that it tasted bitter in the beginning.
The sergeants grabbed their drinks like starving animals, nearly spilling it on themselves. You examined their expression, their brows furrowed as they gulped down the first few sips before their face relaxed.
“Feeling drunk yet?” Soap questioned, gaze directed towards the captain. He began sipping away at his too, seemingly unbothered by all of the alcoholic content. He pulled away from his glass, “Could have this all day.”
“You gonna drink that?” His monotone voice suddenly placed its attention on you. Responding with a ‘right’ before gripping the glass, you copy the way they were holding it.
One taste couldn’t hurt, right?
Unknowingly, you did it a little too eagerly.
“Yeaaah! That’s the spirit.” Soap cheered on and Gaz let out a giggle at that. Ghost’s focus was on scanning the room for suspicious activity that could possibly harm all of you. Price thankfully wasn’t paying attention on you for once.
You could definitely get used to not having to tolerate him stupidly looking at you like you wronged him. They downed their drinks and you followed suit.
It was a rash decision, you soon learned, as your body began feeling warm. Even if it was the slightest of breathing, you could pick up on it. And is it just you or is the music a lot louder than before?
The reality crashed down on you, hitting you like a truck. You were always awfully attempting to please others, but you’ve never thought if that’s what you truly wanted. You feel like a loser. Drinking even though you knew you didn’t want to.
With you being painfully unaware in the state you were in, Price took notice in the change of behavior. Your eyes were watering and your lips were subtly trembling.
Everything felt too overwhelming, too loud, too bright. It was all too much for you. Barely mumbling a ‘I’m going to the restroom’ before you practically sprinted to the only place you could possibly find comfort. They didn’t seem to hear over their obnoxious argument about which weapon was superior and what sucked ass.
Price waited a few minutes, and then telling the group that he needed to use the toilet too. He noticed that you were stumbling in your footing, strange for someone who’s drank a lot more than this. You were only halfway through your drink before you seemed out of it. Maybe it was because of how long your missions lasted, making your tolerance become a little skimpy. It was even weirder to him how you left the door ajar.
Believing that you were alone, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Your tears began streaming down your cheeks, lightly huffing in pained breaths. You despised this feeling.
Price carefully pushed the door open, exposing your vulnerability to your captain. Looking up at the mirror, you gasped. Quickly realizing your mistake in forgetting to lock the door, but it was too late.
“Love...” he began, eyes boring into yours in concern. Striding towards you, he hugged you from behind. A staring contest made from the mirror. “What’s wrong?”
You sniffed, trying to wipe away your tears but failing as more spilled, “I-I can’t—I’ve, I’ve never drank before and I-I wanted to impress you all.” He stopped himself from immediately speaking about how you would be always perfect despite something so little as not drinking, letting you continue, “I d-didn’t tell you be-because,” a hiccup, “I tho-thought you’d see me as a good-for-nothin’.” Sobs wrecked through your being shamefully as you slurred your words.
“Love.” He said firmly as you opened your mouth to apologize, preventing the words from escaping you. “The team and I would never belittle you.” He kisses your cheek, rubbing your sides to soothe you with his thumbs. “Nothin’ wrong with it, okay? It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize.” Another kiss, using his knuckle to wipe away stray tears, “don’t ever be afraid to speak up ‘bout somethin’ like this.”
You hiccuped more, guilt searing within. He doesn’t stop talking yet.
“Stop feeling guilty about it. There’s no shame in that, others who think otherwise are just little shits. You’re better than them.” He kissed your jaw, ever showering you with affection in any way he was able to. He grabbed your hand, holding it to intertwine his fingers with yours. He tilted his head back up to kiss the trail of wetness on your cheek, hushing your weak sobs gently.
“Let’s go order some food, yeah? And we should get some water too to help the tipsiness. Just let me know if you want to try drinking again so I can help you through it. C’mon, love.” A smile spreads across his lips when your eyes light up in appreciation. He was happy that he had you as much as you were happy to have him.
If soulmates existed, he was yours.
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