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chancloud8 · 4 months ago

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Teach Me {3}

<< previous chapter || next chapter >> series masterlist

Pairing: Felix x Reader, Hyunjin x Reader

Word Count: 3,4k

Tags: fluff, kissing, neck kisses, friends to ?

Summary: you finally talk with all the guys about their offer. felix shows you the wonders of neck kisses and hyunjin can't help but join the fun.

a/n: for some reason this chapter took me forever. from now on more of the guys will get with reader and it will get steamier every chapter ;)

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You call Chan when you're in the elevator, your phone pressed between your cheek and your shoulder as you wait for him to pick up. Multiple plastic bags filled with food hang on your wrists and in your hands you have carton holders filled with drinks.

'Come on,' you mutter slightly annoyed when Chan isn't answering.

You knew you should have called literally any of the other guys. Chan usually has his phone muted while he's working and while you don't blame him for that, it's definitely annoying now.

The doors of the elevator open, showing an empty hallway with absolutely no where to put down the drinks for a bit. With a curse you shuffle forward, holding onto the cartons with dear life as you pray for more strength.

'STRAY KIDS!' you yell, hoping your voice will carry through the walls.

You might be at a recording studio, but only the actual booth they sing in is fully soundproof. It only takes about five seconds before a door opens and Changbin and Seungmin stick their heads out, a curious look adorning their faces.

'Help?' you let out, smiling hopefully at them.

The both of them rush forward. Changbin reaches you first and takes over the cartons with drinks. Seungmin is next and he carefully pulls your phone from its place between your cheek and shoulder, putting it in his pocket and helping you with the bags of food.

'Why didn't you call us?' he asks, frowning down at you.

'I did!' you argue. 'I just made the mistake to dial Chan.'

Changbin laughs ahead of you. 'You should know better, Bunny.'

You grumble under your breath and follow them inside the room, closing the door behind you. The guys are all piled up on the two couches again, scrolling on their phones, with the exception of Chan who's behind his laptop with his headphones on.

'How long has he been like that?' you ask, getting the attention of everyone in the room but Chan.

'Y/N! You're here!' Jeongin waves at you from where he lays upside down on the couch.

'Didn't you hear me yell?' you laugh, gesturing to Changbin and Seungmin who are putting out the food you brought.

'They're too obsessed with their phones,' Seungmin says, rolling his eyes.

Felix gets up from the couch to hug you and Hyunjin follows, kissing your cheek.

'Thanks for bringing us food,' they chorus together as if they practised it beforehand.

You giggle at them and open your arms to hug Jeongin who dribbles your way like he drank way too much caffeine. You're about to ask him about it when he surprises you by pulling you against his body and kissing your lips. It's just a quick and soft peck, but it still takes your breath away and when he pulls away you blink up at him dumbly.

'INNIE,' Hyunjin screeches in surprise while Felix bursts out in laughter.

Jeongin giggles and shrugs, calmly walking back to the couch like nothing happened.

'Baby bread, what was that?' Lee Know's voice sounds from behind you and you turn around in confusion.

Where did he come from? Had he been in the room before? You hadn't noticed him before now.

He smiles down at you and pats your head. 'Will you go get Chan and Sungie? We have dance practice after dinner.'

You nod and still a little dazed, you move to where Chan still hadn't noticed you arrived. You put your hands over his eyes from behind him and he startles, letting out a funny sound before ripping his headphones from his head.

'Y/N?' he asks when he hears you giggle.

'How did you know it was me?' you ask as you remove your hands so he can turn around and face you.

'You have tiny soft hands and Felix wouldn't dare startle me like this when I'm working,' Chan says, grabbing your wrists and pulling you forward into a hug.

It's a bit of an awkward position because he's still sitting down, but you bury your face in his neck anyways. Chan always gave the best hugs.

'Come on, I brought food,' you say, pulling back. 'Where's Hannie?'

'Here!' Jisung's voice sounds from behind you and you feel a soft tap against your ass.

'Hey!' you laugh, turning around, but Jisung was already tackling Lee Know to the ground for a piece of fried chicken.

You watch them fondly for a while, Chan doing the same behind you, but then his stomach growls loudly and you turn to glare at him.

'Christopher, when did you last eat?' you ask him sternly, holding out your hand for him to help him up.

He takes your hand, but instead of answering he leads you towards the table filled with the food you brought and fills his mouth with chicken so he doesn't have to say anything.

You narrow your eyes and point your finger at him. 'I'm going to make Lee Know kick your ass at dance practice.'

Chan's eyes widen comically and Lee Know laughs from his spot on the floor, giving you a thumbs up.

'Y/N, come eat,' Felix says, patting the spot behind him.

You move to sit between him and Hyunjin and accept the chopsticks Changbin hands you from Felix's other side. Seungmin slides a plate your way, every inch of it covered in different kinds of sushi and meat and you smile at him in thanks before popping a piece of beef in your mouth.

'Is no one going to talk about Innie kissing Y/N?' Hyunjin asks, glancing between you and Jeongin with his eyebrows raised, a piece of sushi hangs between his chopsticks as he waits for anyone to say something.

'There's nothing to talk about Hyung,' Jeongin replies, reaching for his drink. 'We kissed yesterday too.'

'What?' Hyunjin drops his chopsticks. 'Seriously?'

'You didn't tell them?' you laugh, a bit surprised since you thought he would have texted them when you left.

'He told me,' Chan says between bites.

'You were basically there for the show,' you roll your eyes at him. 'I thought you guys would have talked about this. That we'd talk about it more today, you know,-' you hesitate a moment, looking down at your plate. 'About the offer?'

'We did talk about it,' Felix places his hand on your knee. 'Innie just left out the part where he got to kiss you already.'

You look up with a frown. 'See, this is why I'm worried. You guys can't act like this is some sort of competition and I don't want things to get weird between us, or you guys.'

'We discussed that as well,' Lee Know pipes up from across the table. 'We want to do this for you and we want you to be comfortable.'

'Without weirdness,' Jisung smiles from next to Lee Know.

'Look,' Chan says, putting down his plate. 'We can't promise it won't get a little complicated sometimes, because we're all human and with certain actions come certain feelings.'

You feel your cheeks heating up at his words, but you nod because he's right. 'That's another reason why I've been hesitant. What if certain feelings do develop? Do we stop then? Will you tell me?'

The guys all share a look with each other and it's like they're communicating without words. They do that a lot and while it's usually something you love, it feels a little frustrating now.

'Maybe we shouldn't do this,' you say, chewing on your lip. 'Maybe it's a stupid idea.'

'Maybe you're overthinking it,' Changbin smiles at you. 'It doesn't have to be complicated. We're friends first, yeah? We've known each other for a long time and we can trust each other. Agreed?'

You nod. 'Yes of course.'

'Okay, so let us do this for you. Don't think too much, but keep telling us how you feel and we'll do the same,' Changbin continues.

'Let's just see where it goes and if you want to stop at any time, we'll stop,' Chan adds.

A little voice in the back of your mind tells you it's almost like they want it too much, but for some reason, even while it probably would have been wise to say no, you can't deny that you want them to teach you. Their reactions make you feel warm and wanted and you do trust them.

All their eyes are locked on you, waiting, and so you find yourself nodding once more.

'Yes?' Chan's lips curl up in a grin and all the guys around him mirror the action.

'Yes,' you nod again, grinning back at them. 'Now can we please eat?'

They laugh and everyone digs in again, enjoying the food you brought. You happily eat from the plate Seungmin made for you and listen to the guys chatting about the songs they're working on. This was good, familiar, comfortable.

After dinner Chan goes back to his computer with Jisung and Changbin to listen to the last recording they made, while the rest cleans up and gets ready for dance practice.

'How can you even train so soon after dinner?' you ask no one in particular, rubbing your full belly. 'I don't even want to think about moving and you ate more than me.'

'We're growing boys,' Changbin yells from where he's sitting next to Chan, flexing his biceps.

'Bin, we know your muscles are impressive, no need to show off,' you tease, but your eyes linger anyways and he notices.

'You sure? You can take a picture if you want?' he grins and you stick out your tongue at him before looking away.

'I guess we're used to it,' Felix says from where he's stretching on the floor. 'And it won't be for at least another half hour until we have the training room.'

'Still too soon for me,' you chuckle, sitting back down on the couch and curling your legs up underneath your body.

You watch Felix, Hyunjin and Lee Know go through their warm-up with little to no shame, sitting back quietly and tracking their movements with your eyes. They're really flexible, especially Lee Know, and while you knew this already, you're still impressed by his cat-like movements.

'Like what you see?' Jeongin grins, letting his body fall down on the couch beside you.

Felix looks up, his big brown eyes meeting yours and you suppress a shiver. They're so insanely beautiful, you've always thought so, but now that you know he's going to get close and personal with you soon, they hit you differently.

'Yup,' you admit, smiling at Felix. 'I'm very envious of how they move.'

'You know this is just stretching right?' Felix laughs, bending his torso towards his knees. 'Anyone can do it.'

You let out a snort. 'Not me, that's for sure. I'm stiff as a board. I tried yoga a few months ago, it was horrible.'

'So you're saying we have another thing to teach you?' Hyunjin laughs, rolling his shoulders while basically sitting in a split.

Shaking your head you get up from the couch to walk around him. 'Nope, I'll never be able to do that. You're insane.'

Lee Know, who's also on the floor, grabs your wrist when you walk by him and pulls you down to the floor. You nearly lose your balance, but he easily catches you and motions for you to sit.

'You could have just asked,' you mumble, sitting down cross legged.

'Stretch your legs in front of you,' Lee Know says, ignoring your questioning look.

You move your legs in front of you, wiggling your toes, as you put your hands on the floor beside you before looking at him again, your eyebrows raised as you have no clue what he wants you to achieve here. You didn't lie about not being flexible.

'Now open your legs as far as you can,' Lee Know instructs.

You can't help but gape at him. Say what now? Was he serious? It isn't lost on you that the sentence could have a very different meaning as well and suddenly you feel hot all over.

'I think you broke her,' Felix giggles from your other side.

You blink a few times and look to your left, just in time to see Felix crawl your way. He had no right. No fucking right to look like that, to crawl towards you with a flushed face and big brown doe eyes. Nope. You quickly look at Lee Know again to see him smiling at you.

Taking a deep breath you look down at your legs and will yourself to spread them as wide as you can, which is not wide at all. It's pathetic really.

'That's it?' Hyunjin asks from across from you and you look up to glare at him.

'I told you!'

'Relax,' Felix's voice sounds in your ear.

You do the exact opposite, your whole body tenses at how close he is. His breath fans your neck as he takes a seat behind you, his legs stretching out beside yours and he presses his chest against your back. Heat radiates from him and your whole body tingles where he touches you.

Breathe, you tell yourself. It's just Felix.

'Relax,' Felix repeats, taking your hands in his and allowing you to lean against him. 'Just breathe for a minute and relax your muscles.'

It seems impossible at first, but when Hyunjin and Lee Know continue their own stretches and Felix just breathes slowly and steadily behind you, you slowly feel the tension leave your body.

'Good,' Felix whispers when you sag against him a bit more. 'Now when you're ready, we're going to move a little okay, just follow my lead.'

You nod, not trusting your voice and when he puts a little pressure against your back with his chest, you move forwards. Immediately you feel the muscles of your groin pull and burn, but before you can say anything, Felix gently places his hands on your hips and moves the two of you back, to the side and then forward again. He repeats the movements a few times and while your muscles still burn, it doesn't hurt.

'You okay?' Felix asks softly.

'Mhm,' you hum. 'I'm not sure this will help though.'

He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. 'Not right now, but if you practise this every day, it will.'

You turn your head to look at him with raised eyebrows. 'And what makes you think I will?'

Felix tightens his hands on your hips. 'Because you want to get more flexible?'

Lee Know lets out a laugh from beside you, but you ignore him, your eyes still focused on Felix while your brain obsesses over the feeling of Felix his hands on you.

'And that's all I have to do?'

'No,' Felix smiles. 'But I can teach you some more exercises.'

It would actually be nice to be a bit more flexible and to not get muscle aches so often after doing simple tasks.

'And what would you want in return?' you ask just Felix presses a feather light kiss just under your ear.

A funny feeling erupts in your belly and you melt against him, craning your neck without even thinking about it. It's like your body moves on instinct.

Felix chuckles deeply and hovers his mouth over the exposed side of your neck, his breath fanning your skin.

'Why would I want anything in return when I already have you right where I want you,' he whispers in your ear, his voice so low you barely hear him.

What?

'What?' you voice your thoughts and it comes out with a crack.

'Hmm?' Felix hums against your neck and for a moment you wonder if you didn't hear him correctly.

It wouldn't be weird with what he's doing to your brain somehow. It's like your thoughts are hazy and all you can think about is how nice his soft lips feel against your hot skin.

'What are you doing?' you whisper, your voice sounding weird to your ears, a little breathless.

Felix doesn't lift his head as he replies. 'Giving you an unplanned lesson, I guess.' His lips attach to your neck again, pressing a trial of soft kisses all the way to where your neck meets your shoulder.

You shiver, but don't argue. It feels nice and way better than you thought it would so you let him have his way, closing your eyes to somehow savour the feeling. When his teeth graze your skin, you let out a soft noise, startling yourself and your eyes snap open, meeting Hyunjin's gaze across from you.

Shit. You somehow forgot you and Felix weren't alone.

'It's okay,' Felix mumbles. 'Relax.'

His voice has always been soothing to you, but right now it's even more powerful somehow and you once again melt into him. You trust him.

'Good, close your eyes,' Felix whispers, while his left arm wraps around your waist, keeping you in place against him.

You do as he says and when his right hand moves to your chin to gently tilt your head even further to the side, you let him. You'd probably let him do anything he wants right now.

Felix kisses your neck again, more open mouthed this time and when his tongue sneaks out to taste your skin, another noise escapes your throat. It kind of tickles, but in a good way and you can't help but arch your neck even further, wanting more.

You're so focused on Felix that you don't notice someone coming closer to you until you feel a presence sit down between your legs. Your eyes slowly open to see Hyunjin scoot closer to you, throwing his legs over yours and Felix's.

You open your mouth to ask what he's doing, but he just shakes his head at you and curls his hand around the back of your neck, careful not to bother Felix who is still attached to the other side of your neck, nibbling, licking and gently biting your skin.

'Can I kiss you?' Hyunjin asks, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

'Yeah,' you breathe out, your brain is too hazy to overthink this.

Hyunjin doesn't waste any time and closes the distance between you, crashing his lips against yours. He's gentle at first, moving his mouth in sync with yours, but when you lick his bottom lip like Chan thought you yesterday, he groans against you and kisses you harder. His fingers move from your neck into your hair and softly pull at the strands, making you gasp.

To your surprise he doesn't lick into your mouth or tangle your tongues, like Chan had yesterday, he just ups his tempo and scrapes his teeth over your bottom lip. Felix tightens his hands on you when you shiver and his tongue slips out again to soothe the skin he just abused. Is he leaving hickeys?

Hyunjin pulls back and you chase after him, not ready to stop kissing him, not when it feels this good. The sensation of being kissed at two places at once was addicting and you aren't ready to give up on it just yet. You want more.

Hyunjin chuckles and traces your lips with his thumb. 'Easy there, I just want to ask if you kissed with tongue yet?'

Such a gentleman. You hastily nod and lean forward again, but Felix his arm around you holds you back. It's only then that you realize what you're doing, in the middle of the studio where all the other guys can see. Hyunjin seems to notice right away and moves his face closer to yours again.

'Don't overthink it, it's just you, me and Felix,' he whispers before kissing you again.

Felix switches to the other side of your neck, forcing Hyunjin to let go of your hair, but you don't mind, all you can think of now is kissing Hyunjin. His tongue teases your lips again and when you open them he finally licks into your mouth, touching your tongue with his. He kisses differently than Chan, calmer, but with a lot of passion and in the back of your mind you store this information for later before grabbing onto Hyunjin's shirt and kissing him harder.

When you break apart again, the both of you are panting like you just ran a marathon. Hyunjin's lips are swollen and he grins when he looks down at your neck, where Felix had let go as well.

'Quite the artwork Lix, I'm impressed,' he chuckles.

Your hand flies to your neck, but besides some wet spots and a slight tingling feeling, you don't feel anything. Guess you were going to have to find a mirror later.

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a/n: I hope you liked this chapter, I'm still not sure what to think of it haha. Please let me know your thoughts!

Shoutout to @staylovesmiley for being my cheerleader while writing <3 >> part 4

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @newbbystay @lunearta @danceonmyheyday @gigizzz @kaqua @haven-skies @zulie-and-cats @livixcore @halfwinterhalfuniverse @jesuschrist2006 @staybabblingbaby @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #lee felix x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunlix x reader #stray kids fluff #felix fluff #hyunjin fluff #lee felix x you #hyunjin x you #chancloud8 writes #teach me part 3

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zreamy · 14 days ago

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things i know that i can't have (teaser)

jake's life was hard enough before he fell for you—balancing uni, football, and being a good christian son. in some cruel twist of fate, sleeping with you has only made things harder—and, according to sunghoon (and scripture), damned him to hell the first time he thought about it.

genres: college au, (established) fwb to lovers, smut, fluff, angst

teaser warnings: minors dni, smut (yn sends nudes and jake jerks off)..........extremely dramatic (jake is going through it basically)

teaser word count: 1,125 (chose peace)

fic word count: probably around 35k???

post date: apr 3 !!!

message from zo: yeah uh huh zreamy finally finished a jake fic.. yeah uh huh (i say as i'm still writing this fic.. im affirming #lawofassumption ..sigh whatever whatever) the wip page is literally cursed !!! it is it is it is .. anyway.. jake nation will always win accept me please jake nation.......

r/Christianity

u/footballfan1511 | 2m

How bad is premarital sex, really? (Need quick answers!!!)

I (20M) have been having sex with my friend (20F) for three weeks now. I knew it was wrong, but she’s everything (very hot, totally, completely sexy), so I didn’t care. BUT I just saw this verse (Matthew 5:28-30) and apparently it’s a sin just to THINK about it???

The last time we did ‘it’ was this morning before church (sorry), and I was supposed to go over there tonight, but I’ve been freaking out about that verse all day…….. idk what to do but I really like her, so much, and I still want this, with her. Please give me advice ..

Every Thursday night. Ten p.m. sharp. Almost no exceptions. You call Jake, talking shit for as long as it takes one thing to lead to another. Tonight is an exception—you had friends over, rescheduled for midnight. Jake lies in bed, hair still damp from his post-football training shower, counting each minute as it passes. 23:55. His leg is shaking. 23:56. He sits up straight, jolting as if waking from a nightmare, nerves sharp and restless as his thumbs fly over the keyboard, texting Sunghoon.

Jake: What about phone sex?

Jake: Like if I don’t think about her while I do it?

Sunghoon’s groan reaches Jake through the thin walls of their shared flat. Drawn-out and long-suffering. Read receipt. 23:57. Three dots.

Hoon: I can’t tell you what to think, but if you’re asking me then you probably alr know

Hoon: Also..??? Do you think you can jack your shit on the phone without thinking about her 😭😭😭

Jake snorts despite himself, much too loud for the quiet. Echoing as if even the room disapproves. He closes his eyes, shakes his head. Palm to his cheek. A low smack, half-joking, half-sincere. Guilt snakes around him, a hot, unwelcome coil that won’t ease. Jake gets the sense that the choice ahead — to answer or not to answer — might drastically skew his life one way or another.

A minute early. 23:59. Your name on his screen. Phone humming in his hold, pulse lashing his throat. On the other end of the line, before he has the chance to weigh his options, you dead the call—making his decision for him.

Jake’s heart stumbles, clumsy in his chest. He thinks of the verse, sharp and prickly—crown of thorns on heavy head. He has been thinking about it since Saturday morning. Extra training with Team B, avoiding you, six-thirty wake-ups to join Sunghoon at the rink. Ice-cold mornings melting into afternoons. No matter what he tries, it always comes back. Lustful intent, adultery, with her. And despite his best efforts to pray for rapture, Thursday has come, and Jake has lived to see it.

A minute late. 00:01. Your name on his screen. Hovering thumb. He knows that phone sex and sex-sex aren’t the same thing, Matthew didn’t even have a phone—but if he could’ve, and he could’ve known you, and you wanted him? Jake sighs. He should answer. If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off, and throw it away. The words sink their senile claws into him, holding on for dear, frail life. His phone stills in his palm.

You don’t call again. You never have. If this phone call is going to happen, it’s up to Jake to make it so. This knowledge and its weight multiply by the second. An itch he doesn’t try to scratch, knowing he won’t be able to reach it. Another agonising nine minutes trudge along. 00:10. His phone buzzes on his chest, and he knows it’s you before he looks. Two texts.

YN: Said you’d stay up for me Yunie :(((

YN: You don’t think I’m worth the wait?

Reading your messages through the notifications, he’s having a hard time convincing himself not to reply. Not to tell you he waited, that of course, you’re worth it. His guilt loosens, making space for his desire to reassure you—he cannot rule out the possibility that this desire outweighs his guilt. Silence settles in his room, stretched thin and strange around him. He sighs.

YN: Attachments: 2 images

YN: Wanted to hear your reaction, but you can tell me when you’re up ig.

YN: Night, loser :P

Butterflies, sudden and bright—teenaged. Foolish. Tucked under the notification, the photos dare him to look. His curiosity clicks it, and the first picture fills the screen, yanking his breath from his lungs.

Most of your face is cut off, showing only your lips—pouty and glossy and pretty. Pulling at him in a way he’s not quite equipped to name. This would be enough for him, an innocent selfie, you and those pretty eyes, that smile. More than enough—pulse quickening just thinking about it. His gaze lingers on your lips, stuck for a while. Then, unintentionally, his eyes flick lower. Hair fanned over your pillow, breasts peeking out from under black lace. Fuck. A sight he’s seen a million times, but somehow, each time feels like the first. Jake gulps. Holy shit. He ignores the throbbing in his pants, how much tighter they are—he won’t give in. No matter how badly he’s craving it. He’s stronger than that. With his eyes, he traces your lips. Ogles until his screen dims, locking the picture away again.

Picture two. Fuck. You on your stomach, grainy in your webcam. Arched back, black lace panties over your hips. Fuck. The lingerie, the shape of your body.. Seeing you like this, so perfect and all for him—it’s taking every last shred of his self-control not to get in his car and rush over to you. Want, need, tugs at him. A tether he can’t break. His phone locks.

Enough is enough. He drags his feet all the way back to the shower, oppressive cold water hitting him. Doing absolutely nothing for his revolting need. This isn’t working—not the water, not the attempt at self-control. Not when he’s already hard and aching against his stomach. Soft breasts. Round ass. Wet—his hand moves instinctively, forehead resting on the cool tiles. He closes his eyes, your body clear in the dark. Full lips. Arched back. He’s breathless when he finishes, head bowed as heat coils low in his stomach. The water carries his release away. Nose crinkled as it swirls around the drain, cringing at the sight—guilt, shame curling around him.

Again, he dries off, pulls on clean pyjamas, and drags his feet to bed. On his side, he closes his eyes, your body like a brand behind his eyelids, thoughts filling the quiet in his room. Exhaustion however, is its own kind of mercy, and eventually, pulls him under.

#enhypen smut #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen jake smut #wips #fic: bj #bj to the world so soon...... the wips page is cursed guys idc it literally is.

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penny00dreadful · 2 years ago

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So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️

We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!

AO3 link for those asking! 🖤

Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.

That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.

The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.

And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.

If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.

But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.

Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.

The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.

A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.

Her people.

Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.

The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.

“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.

The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.

“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”

The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”

“Eddie, what-”

Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.

“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”

Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.

Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.

“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”

“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.

“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”

“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”

“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”

“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”

“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.”

“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.

Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.

“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.

“Oh shit. This is your friend?”

Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“He’s… he’s really pretty.”

That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”

“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”

Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”

Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”

“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.

“Okay.”

“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”

“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.

“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”

“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”

“Inklings? Is that the place?”

Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”

“No way.”

“Way.”

Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.

“Is it far?”

“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”

“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?

“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.

“Would that be okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered.

“I think… I think I just want to get home.”

“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.”

He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it.

This fucking guy.

He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.

“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”

“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.

“Likewise.”

“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.

“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”

“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.

She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.

“Shall we?”

Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.

"So."

"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"

“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”

“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”

“Agreed.”

“Is it because of a bad ex?”

Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”

Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.

Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.

“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”

Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.

Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.

He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.

“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.

“Yeah, sure.”

They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.

She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”

Robin, where are you?

Are you okay?

I’m on the way.

Please be okay.

Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.

“Robbie.”

Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”

“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”

“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”

“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.

Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’

Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’

5K notes · View notes

theereina · 5 months ago

Text

The End

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.8K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, adultery/infidelity, angst, heartbreak

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

“So, we're still on for dinner right?” Terry asked kissing Athena's cheek. “Of course, I just don't want you to cancel this time,” she said kissing his forehead.

They were in their bed facing each other. This was unfortunately becoming a recurring conversation for them. They would plan to have dinner together, and somehow, he would always have to cancel. Athena had spent so many nights on unplanned solo dates and was tired of it.

She understood Terry's work life, but he had yet to find a balance. “I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. After all of this, I swear we’re takin’ a break. We can go wherever you want,” he said pulling her closer to him. His arms wrapped tightly around her body. This is what she wanted. This is what she was fighting so hard for.

They had been married six years, and she knew this man like the back of her hand. Athena knew when work got stressful for him. She knew when he was getting sick. She knew when his anxiety was about to flare. She knew everything, so why wouldn't he consider that she would know this, too? The secret he was hiding wasn't work-related. Those late nights weren't for business reports and last-minute contracts, unfortunately.

Athena had known for almost four months now. She kept her mouth shut thinking her husband would tell her, but he didn't. She loved him too much to let this come between them, but this was getting hard. All she wanted was for him to be honest, but now it felt too late.

“Alright, mister. I'm holding you to that,” Athena said snuggling into his chest. She was honestly taking it all in, committing things to memory— his smell, the way his breathing sounded, the patchiness of his beard, the strength of his calloused hands, and the sound of his voice in the morning. This couldn't be Athena's life. There was no way that this was the marriage she prayed so hard for. She wasn't asking for the perfect husband. Her bare minimum was honesty and communication, but Terry wasn't giving her either.

Athena began to doze off in Terry's embrace. The comfort he brought her would be something she would miss—. Why? “Terry, if something was wrong would you tell me?” she said moving to look up at him. “Hmm… What do you mean, baby?” Terry said looking down at her, loosening his embrace. “You’d tell me if you didn't love me anymore?” she asked as her face turned somber and flooded with sadness. “Oh, baby. I'll always love…,” Terry began.

ring ring

And, there it goes— that fucking phone. The one that goes off during every moment they have together. She could never have Terry to herself. He leaned back and picked up the phone. He stared at the screen, looking back at Athena. “Go ahead. I'll just go get ready,” Athena said with tears brimming in her eyes. She threw the covers back and rose from the bed. She knew this was one or two things— work or his other…

Athena walked into their bathroom and began her morning routine. She turned on the shower and stood at the sink. Clenching her fists against the counter, Athena let it out. Months of tears came flooding out. Every emotion had boiled over, and she couldn't take it anymore.

Today was the day. It was already planned out. In the next coming 12 hours, Athena's life would change.

*7 hours later

Terry was in his office waiting for the day to end. He had been on edge all day because of what Athena asked. Did she know? She couldn't know. He had covered his tracks. There was no way she could know.

knock knock

“Yes, come in!” Terry announced, sitting up in his office chair. “Sup, you still going to the party, tonight?” asked Terry's best friend Corbin. “Nah, I promised Athena a date. Can't miss this one,” Terry said twirling a pen between his fingers. “Never stopped you before,” Corbin mumbled under his breath. Terry's eyes shot up to meet Corbin's face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Terry snapped.

Corbin took a deep breath. “You know exactly what I mean, T. Don't act stupid!” Corbin spat back. “Don't worry about what the fuck I got going on. Remember, we both have situations going on. I ain't the only one,” Terry said standing up from his desk. “You're right, but only one of us is married!” Corbin said squaring his shoulders. “So, fiancé means nothing to you? I wonder how Miranda would feel?” Terry taunted walking around his desk. “Let’s not compare situations. I definitely can't compete with the new add-ons you got,” Corbin said, tapping Terry in the chest. Terry slapped his hand away. Corbin raised his hands and backed away. “Fuck you!” Terry said leaning on the desk. “Whatever!” Corbin said backing out and leaving the office.

As Terry began to sink into his thoughts, his office phone rang. “Terry speaking,” he said. “Mr. Richmond, there is a woman here looking for you. I tried to tell her she needed an appointment, but…,” said Terry's receptionist. “Name?” Terry asked walking back to his office chair. “She said you'll know, and something about a little issue,” his receptionist replied. Terry froze. This was against their agreement. She was never supposed to show up at his home or office. What if Athena was here?

Terry clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders. “Send her in. Hold all calls until further notice,” he said, hanging up the phone.

*3 hours later

Athena was in her car, heading to her parent's home in Georgia. She had been crying the whole ride. She had packed up all of her stuff and was going back home. Her brother was driving behind her in the Uhaul she rented. She couldn't believe that this was her life right now. Athena pulled over into the gas station and pulled up to the pump. She sat in the car, waiting. Waiting for something. Anything.

Someone to wake her up.

Someone to pinch her.

Someone to tell her this wasn't real.

Something.

Athena was startled by her brother knocking on the window. She rolled down the window and looked at her brother. “Sis, you should've gotten someone else to drive,” he said reaching in to wipe her tears. “I'm okay. It gives me something to focus on,” she said dropping her head. “Nah, I'm calling one of my friends. He'll meet us here. He doesn't stay that far away. He'll drive the Uhaul while I drive you. Okay?” he lulled. “I'm okay,” she said. “No, ‘Thena. I'm calling him, and that's final. I don't trust you driving like this,” he said walking away and entering the gas station.

*1 hour later

Terry was rushing to get to the restaurant. Of course, he was late. He had stopped at a local store and picked up two bouquets. One was sunflowers while the other was red roses. He wanted to sweeten things over with Athena. He was aware that he had been fucking up lately.

As he pulled into the restaurant, he searched the parking lot for Athena's car. He couldn't see it anywhere. He circled the parking lot to be sure. He parked near the front and checked his phone before getting out. She hadn't called or texted. “Maybe she took an Uber or Lyft,” he said aloud to himself. He straightened the collar of his shirt and adjusted his tie. He reached over and grabbed the flowers before exiting.

As he approached the restaurant doors, he did one final scan of the parking lot. No Athena. He entered the oyster bar and approached the hostess's desk. “Table for two under Terry,” he said to the middle-aged black woman. “Yes, ouuu… almost missed our grace period. Cutting it kind of close there, darling,” she laughed. “Is the other guest not here? I mean, did someone not check in under the reservation, yet?” Terry asked pulling out his phone. “Uh, no. No one checked in under that reservation, sir,” she replied.

Terry was confused. Where the hell was Athena? She had texted him confirming that she was on the way to the restaurant, so where was she? He followed the woman to a booth in the rear of the restaurant. “Someone will be with you shortly,” she said after seating him. Terry sat down and immediately pulled his phone out again.

He immediately began to text Athena.

Message not delivered

Terry stared at the screen. How? He checked his service and made sure everything was on. He tried again.

Message not delivered

What the fuck was going on? He quickly tried to call Athena. It instantly went to voicemail. He tried again and got the same result. Terry called Miranda, Athena’s best friend and Corbin's fiancé.

Miranda answered, “Yes, Terry?” “Have you talked to to Athena?” he asked shifting in his seat. He was growing worried. Did something happen to her on the way here? “Of course, I did. She is my best friend after all,” she responded snidely. Terry immediately heard the tone of her voice. “Miranda, where is she?” he asked holding the bridge of his nose. “Gone!” Miranda blurted. “What do you mean gone?” Terry said. He was becoming visibly upset. The waiter began to approach the table, but Terry waved her away. “Exactly what the fuck I said,” Miranda snapped. “Miranda, don't fucking play with me right now!” Terry grunted into the phone. “Why don't you go home and check since you don't believe me,” Miranda said hanging up.

Terry pushed his chair back and grabbed the flowers from the table. Terry rushed out of the restaurant. He threw the flowers onto the passenger seat and climbed into his car. He needed to get home immediately.

*45 minutes later

Terry flung the front door of their home open. Athena's car wasn't in the driveway or the garage. This was starting to piss him off. He searched the entire first floor. Hearing what he thought were footsteps, he ran up the stairs and practically kicked open their bedroom door. It wasn't. Athena had left their bedroom window open and the heavy curtains were thudding against the wall. He rushed to the window and slammed it shut.

“Fuck! Athena! Where are you?” he yelled. As he turned around, he noticed a note on the bed. On top of the note was Athena's wedding ring. He sat on the bed prepared to read the note but stopped when he saw that their closet door was open. Athena's side was empty. Scanning the room, he realized that ALL of Athena's things were gone.

Terry pulled out his phone and tried to text and call Athena over and over again. Nothing had changed. He was still getting sent to her voicemail, and his messages were undelivered. Terry's heart sank for the first time that night— Athena had blocked him. He went to her social media accounts to be met with user not found. She had blocked him on everything.

Terry stood up from the bed furious and full of rage. There was no way Athena had just left him. Terry called Corbin, but he sent him to voicemail, too. Immediately, Terry's phone vibrated from a message notification.

Corbin: THEY KNOW!!!

That means Miranda knew and that ATHENA KNEW, TOO!

This couldn't be how everything played out. There was no way. Yes, his shit had gotten sloppy in the last few months, but how? Terry leaned on the bedroom dresser, letting his head fall into his hands.

He knew it was coming he just thought he had more time. More time to figure this shit out.

Terry looked up into the mirror attached to the dresser. He couldn't stand to look at himself. How could he let this happen? He slammed his fists onto the dresser, and the force cracked the glass. Terry looked up to see his reflection in the broken glass. His eyes lingered over himself before he punched the glass. Throwing his arms across the dresser, he sent everything to the floor. Glass began flying everywhere.

Terry threw himself onto the bed. Lying on his back, he could feel the heat coursing through his body. He felt his eyes growing heavy with tears. He looked over on the other side of the bed to see the note still resting there.

He picked it up and unfolded it. Pictures fell out and hit his chest. They were all pictures of him and— Eliza, his mistress. The woman he had been seeing for over two years. Terry flipped through the photos. He realized that the photos had to have been taken over a few months. How had she known this long?

Terry finally realized that Athena was asking questions because she already knew the answers. Terry's heart stopped at the last photo. It was him holding— TJ, him and Eliza’s 6-month-old son. Shit! She knew about the baby, too. That explains why she kept asking him why they were still waiting to start a family. He thought she was nagging, but in reality, she was hurt.

She knew he had a mistress and an outside child. He hadn't meant for this to happen. Eliza was only supposed to be a one-night stand, but it just kept happening. They kept seeing each other because she was friends with Corbin's mistress. They kept ending up at the same parties and clubs. He tried to break it off with her on more than one occasion. Then, something would happen with Athena and he would just go running back. This wasn't Athena's fault, but he felt it wasn't entirely his either— he thought. Athena kept having to travel back and forth to Georgia while her father was going through chemo. She was starting to work more hours. She was always tired. She never had time for him, on the other hand, Eliza was always right there— one call away and easy to access.

Terry held the letter in his hands and began to read.

Dear Terry,

I don't know what to say or how to start this, so here it goes.

To my love, I gave you my all for 9 years. I planned my life to sync with yours— as your wife and best friend. I wanted nothing more than to fulfill all of the promises we made each other throughout this lifetime.

I asked and asked, sometimes I maybe even begged for you to see it. I wanted you to care enough to see through my nagging and realize I was hurting. I was dying on the inside for months. I had to watch you be a lover to someone else while all I wanted was your comfort. I had to watch you be a father while you refused to allow me to even be a mother. You chose to postpone all of my dreams of having a family to work on your career. I let you do that because I loved you. All while you were standing in my face and sleeping in our bed knowing that you had one all along. It just wasn't with me.

Was I the problem? Was I not good enough? There wasn't a thing that you asked that I didn't do. I've been questioning my worth for months trying to see where I went wrong. Chasing you and begging you to love me like you once did. A love I know you're capable of, but I just haven't felt from you in a long time.

My heart was breaking every day with every question. I wanted you to tell me the truth. Be honest and give me hope that maybe this was a simple mistake. A mistake that we could work through together. But mistakes are made once. You were making a choice. A choice to love another woman and become a father outside of us.

With that being said, I can't hold anger in my heart for you we both know that. That’s something I'm not capable of. All I can offer you is forgiveness and peace. Peace to do whatever you want. I'm no longer in your way. Be free. This is the end. Our end.

P.S. After reading this letter, I hope you become a better man for the family you created. He's beautiful, by the way. He has his father’s eyes.

Love always,

Thena

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@beenathembo

353 notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, if you hadn't already done something like this, I was wondering if you'll write Eddie x Popular!Henderson!R, where they're sneaking around behind Dustin's back.... 1. Because Dustin looks up to him and they're friends and 2. She's not ready to let everyone know just yet (wanting to live in ignorant bliss just a little while longer before she falls under scrutiny for falling for "the freak").

And so, when one of her friends decides to hook her up on a date, she can't exactly refuse, so she goes along with it to shut her up, without letting Eddie know, of course. And during a game of dnd, Dustin let's it slip where you are for the night, unknowingly sending Eddie into a spiral, thinking she's cheating and that's why she wants to keep them a secret and after having an internal battle, he cuts the campaign short, surprising everyone, and he crashes her date, with hellfire in toe, demanding answers. And then everyone finds out and she explains blah blah and they live happily ever after. Sorry, this was long xx

This was so fun! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Dustin's friend

When Dustin said he found a new friend, that was yet again years older than him, Y/N wasn't too pleased. First, it was Steve, and now a guy named Eddie. But when Y/N met Eddie for the first time, she couldn't care less about the age gap between him and her brother, all that mattered was that he was around her age and single.

Eddie still wasn't sure how he managed to get Dustin's hot popular sister to go out with him. Whatever he did, he thanked god for it because having Y/N on his lap with her tongue down his throat was his heaven.

"Missed you so much," Y/N whined, her hips moving against Eddie's as she yanked off his shirt.

"Fuck, I missed you too." Eddie moaned as Y/N sucked down his chest. She left her marks to travel south until she was just above his boxers.

"MOM WANTS YOU," Dustin screamed as he pounded on Y/N's locked door.

"Damn it," Eddie sighed and hung his head.

"BE RIGHT THERE," Y/N screamed back, she sighed and stood up. She handed Eddie his shirt with a sad smile. "Sorry, Eds."

"Fuckers are giving me blue balls. Are you sure we can't tell him? Maybe he'd stop interrupting as much." Eddie glared towards the door. He stood up and threw on his jeans.

"You know I'm not ready for all of that yet." Y/N sighed.

"Fine, I'll go home and finish the old-fashioned way." Eddie joked, smirking as he walked backward to her window, his eyes on her.

"Maybe I'll come over and join you, later." She winked. She kissed Eddie goodbye and waited for him to leave. Then she went to see what her mom wanted.

~~~

Y/N knew hiding her relationship with Eddie was hard and tiring. And she felt guilty every time she had to act like Eddie wasn't everything to her. But she was scared. She was scared to take away Dustin's friend, worried she overstepped. She was terrified it would ruin their friendship because of the bro code. And selfishly, she was scared of the damage it would do to her social life.

"I'm telling you, he has been begging me for a date with you. You are single and have no reason to say no." Chrissy whined.

"My reason to say no is that I don't want to," Y/N said, rolling her eyes as she slammed her locker shut.

She whined when Chrissy followed.

"Like you have anything going on tomorrow night, anyway?" Chrissy argued, her eyes taunting.

Y/N technically had nothing going on tomorrow, Dustin and Eddie had hellfire so both boys were busy.

"Stop thinking of an excuse and just go. Then if you hate it, I will never set you up again." Chrissy promised.

"Deal," Now Y/N could get Chrissy off her back.

~~~

"We are kicking ass today! I wish Y/N were here to see it." Dustin cheered. Y/N had spent more time watching Hellfire since she had to pick Dustin up anyway.

"Why isn't she?" Eddie asked, he prayed it sounded casual. He read ahead on his notes to look like he didn't care too much.

"On a date." Dustin shrugged, playing his next move. No one had the table had any idea that sentence sent Eddie into a panic. Sweat on his forehead as his leg shook beneath the table.

His girlfriend was on a date, with another guy.

It all made sense, she wanted him to be a secret because she was seeing someone. Dustin knew about the guy, and he couldn't know about Eddie. Because then her secret would be exposed. Like it just was.

"Where?" Eddie snapped, his angry tone had the table looking at him in seconds.

"Enzo's," Dustin said confused.

"Get in the van," Eddie snapped as he grabbed his keys.

The rest of hellfire sat confused as Eddie raced to the restaurant. He was silent but gripped the wheel until his knuckles were white. The boys followed as Eddie stormed out of the van and into the restaurant.

Eddie felt a wave of heartache flood in his chest when he saw her with him with his own eyes. She looked beautiful as she talked about something he couldn't hear.

"Why are we here? Why do you care about my sister?" Dustin asked, but Eddie already was moving.

His heavy boots hit the floor hard, and his hand slammed on the table. The couple jumped and fear showed in Y/N's eyes when Eddie leaned down to her level.

Face to face, Eddie's hard breathing smacked Y/N's face. She twiddled her thumbs nervously as she saw hellfire behind him. Her brother watching with confusion.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" She said through clenched teeth, trying to keep the conversation between them.

"Demanding why the fuck my girlfriend is on a date with another guy." Eddie snapped, his eyes dark as he glared at her. She knew he had every right to be mad, but she didn't want a scene.

She stood up, and Eddie straightened up. His eyes haven't left her, not even glancing at the stranger across from her.

"Can I please explain later? In private." She whispered, her eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder as the boys watched.

"No, I'm tired of this private shit. Explain right here, right now. Or we are done." Eddie threatened. He didn't want to break up, he wished on every star above him there was a way to make this relationship work.

"Eddie please." She whispered, her watery eyes pleading for him to back off until they could talk. "Not right now in front of everyone." Eddie tried to ignore her tears, not letting himself get sucked into her guilt trap.

"Fine, forget it. I'll see you around, Henderson." Eddie said coldly as he nodded and backed off. Y/N felt frozen in her spot as Eddie went out the door.

"Y/N?" Dustin spoke up, his hand reaching towards her.

In seconds she was running out the door.

"What is going on?" the random date asked.

"Shh man," Mike said, sliding into the booth next to him. He pointed out the window, a clear view of the couple. The boys followed, all sitting in the big booth as they stared out the window.

"I'm sorry! I got scared but please." Y/N cried as she tugged on Eddie's arm.

"Scared because you got caught. I can't believe you could do this to me. What about all that love bullshit? This is what you do when you love someone?" Eddie argued, hot tears in his eyes.

"I do love you! Nothing between us is bullshit. Chrissy was on my back for weeks about going on a date with this guy! I never agreed until she said If I went on it, she'd never do it again! I promise you I was just trying to get her off my back. I was going to tell her I hated it and finally have peace of just being with you."

"You know what else brings peace? Finally admitting to other people that you are in love with me," Eddie said sadly, "I'm tired of being your secret. I can't keep doing it."

Y/N sobbed as she reached forward and held his face in her hands.

"I'm so sorry. I love you so much. I'll tell Dustin and everyone. Please just give me a chance to make this up to you." Y/N begged, Eddie sniffled as he looked into her eyes.

"I love you too," he smiled, and Y/N felt relief in her bones. "You took a chance on me, so I'll take the chance on you."

Y/N smiled and leaned forward, Eddie met her halfway and smashed his lips on hers. His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Oh my god!" The boys all said at once, the random date was long gone.

"Eddie and my sister?"

"Dude! Eddie is banging your sister!" Mike teased

"Is he touching her ass?" Lucas gasped as he moved closer to the window

"Oh, that is so much tongue." Gareth chuckled.

"Our boy is making out with a popular girl!" Jeff cheered, high fives all around the table, except for Dustin who sat in a state of shock.

"YOU ARE SCREWING MY SISTER?"

Eddie and Y/N jumped as Dustin screamed.

"DUSTIN!" Y/N screamed as Dustin ran straight into Eddie and took him to the ground.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x popular!reader #ashwhowrites

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sk1ndx0 · 10 days ago

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Love me not (Part 2)

Chishiya x fem!reader

Part 1

TW: kinda OOC Chishiya? Maybe? Mentions of smut

Summary: Chishiya is spiraling.. he doesn’t actually feel anything for you, does he..?

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

This is the third meeting you’ve come to.. and yet, there’s still tension between you and Chishiya. Chishiya sat across from you at the executive table. Why the fuck was he so.. out of it? Nervous? His face didn’t show it but his body language… he was all tense. His shoulders were tense, his posture was tense.. everything was wrong. Of course, you couldn’t notice that.

You looked at him, your eyes soft, but eventually looking back up at Hatter. You didn’t speak, you just listened. That was unusal, even for you.

Everything seemed out of place now. To Chishiya, at least.

You looked like you were having the time of your life. You seemed so attentive, and kind towards the others. He thought that was reserved for him. Only him. No one else.

Oh god, now is he jealous? What the fuck is up with him?? He hated this so much. He shoved his hands in his pockets a little harder than intended and ended up hitting his knuckle on the side of the table..

He looked down, breathing in sharply.

Chishiya needed out of here.

As soon as the meeting ended, Chishiya got up, nearly bolting out of the room with his hands in his pockets, and his head down. He didn’t even wait for you.

You shrugged off the feeling that you did something wrong, and walked out behind him.

You pretty much had to run to catch up to him, “Hey, Chishiya-”

He ignored you. No surprise there. You tried again,

“Chishi-”

“What? What is it?” Chishiya finally turned around, eyes you like you were a foreign thing to him.

“Are you okay?” You mutter, looking at him and taking a few steps closer.

“Never been better.” He fidgeted with the hem of his white jacket with one hand.

“You sure?”

“Y/N.”

You stare at him, your eyebrows furrowing as you cross your arms. “Chishiya.”

You stare at each other for a good few minutes before Chishiya lets out a sigh.

“It’s cute when you try to be serious. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He quickly stated before turning on his heel and walking off. Normally now. He felt.. lighter somehow?

You just stared as you watched him walk away. You knew he wasn’t a really touchy or really anything to do with emotion, kind of person. You just exhaled and turned to go to your own room.

Maybe you’d get through to him. One of these days.

———

You lied in bed. You usually didn’t sleep, because someone was keeping you up, or partying and people downstairs kept you up. It was a never ending cycle of sleep deprivation..

So you did what you would usually do.

Go to Chishiya’s room.

You hoped and prayed that he was in the mood because honestly you were.

You knocked on his door before cracking it open slightly. You looked in, “Chishiya? Can I come in?” You softly spoke before you heard a faint, “Go ahead.”

You walked in, shutting the door behind you. He was lying down, his legs over the edge of the bed.

You gulped slightly, chuckling softly, “What’re you doing?”

Chishiya gave a soft smirk, acknowledging you. “Lying down.” He suddenly took a hand out of his pocket, patting his leg.

You rolled your eyes, staring at the gesture before taking your seat beside him, only to annoy him since you knew what he really wanted.

Chishiya sits up, looking at you through his lashes. God, there was that stare again. He leans back, setting himself up on his arms. You froze.

Huh??

You softly giggled, nudging him with your shoulder, “What, didn’t sleep? You look all droopy.” You thought about your statement for a while, “Do you ever?”

“What’s it matter?” He mumbled, looking at you. He looked you up and down, almost admiring every curve of your body.

“What’d you come here for?” He suddenly questioned.

You hesitate, giving him a look. You give him a half-smile.

“I see.” He chuckled, even though you didn’t say anything, he knew what you wanted. He knew what you needed.

The next thing you knew, you were tangled in the sheets.

———

The next morning, you turned to look at Chishiya. He was there, but he was asleep. It was his room after all. You get up, your legs feeling like jelly from the night before.

He really didn’t hold back this time..

You gathered your things, putting on your clothes. You looked down at Chishiya’s seemingly asleep form. You turn to walk out when you hear him mumble..

“So eager to leave me by myself?”

You turned back around slowly, staring at him. He was awake now, sitting up and resting against the headboard of the bed. His eyes bore into yours. Calculating.. slightly soft.

“I should’ve known. You don’t sleep.”

“Sometimes.” He added.

You shook her head, giggling softly, “Most of the time.” You looked down at him.

Chishiya patted the spot next to him on the edge of the bed. A silent offering.

You hesitated. Suddenly, your shoes were the most interesting thing in the room.

“I’m gonna go shower.. in my own room. You gonna play a game today?” You asked, brushing off what he offered easily.

Chishiya tensed up slightly. He didn’t like being brushed off like that. He softly scoffed, resting his arm on his knee. “Probably not. My visa isn’t running out any time soon.”

You nodded, “Alright.. I’ll see you later, okay? You know where to find me.” You shot him a smile before walking out of the room, shutting the door behind you.

Chishiya softly exhaled through his nose, staring at his now empty bed.

He’s changing.

———

Since you honestly needed a shower, you took one. After you got out, you decided to get something to eat. You almost pretty much starved yourself every so why not take a little bite of something?

The beach had food somewhere around here.. right? Yeah. Not just alcohol and drugs.. right? Yeah. You went down the elevator, going into the kitchen and just grabbing some snacks. Some of your favorites.

“What’re you doing?” You immediately snap around to face an executive, Ann.

“Uhh.. eating something?” you say nervously as you hold up a pack of cookies. Chishiya’s favorite, to be exact.

“There’s an executive meeting. We want you there.”

“Oh..” You mumbled, surprised and kind of nervous since you knew Chishiya would be there. “When is it?”

“Right now. Come on.” Ann said quickly, turning on her heel with crossed arms.

Jeez she’s intimidating…oh wait-

“Hey can I eat first?” You quickly call out, walking after her.

No answer.

Great.. now I’ll be hungry and nervous. Never a good combo..

You put down your snacks on the kitchen table, hoping no one would steal them in the meantime.

———

You sat beside Chishiya this time, hoping he wouldn’t move away. He glanced at you, huffing slightly and shifting his position to seem more attentive at Hatter.

You sigh softly, then suddenly feel eyes glued to the back of your head. You knew it wasn’t Chishiya.. no his eyes were on Hatter’s rambling form. You glanced beside you, not getting a good enough look to who was staring at you.

“Niragi. Are you paying attention?” Hatter suddenly cut out of his monologue.

“Hah? Yeah I’m listening.” Niragi spoke up. You looked at him, and noticed that his eyes bore into yours. Chishiya turned to stare at him with a cold and detached look.

You slowly turned back around, tensing up slightly. Hatter continued,

“If you aren’t going to listen, you might as well leave. We have a fine replacement for you right here. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You snapped up. In all honesty you weren’t paying attention either. “Uh.. I-”

“She’s not exactly a good fit.” Chishiya spat. “She’d be almost exactly like Niragi. Only without the asshole attitude.”

Was he trying to save me or insult me? You thought.

Niragi let out a low laugh, and you snapped to turn around to stare at him. Niragi winked at you, smirking and turning his attention to Hatter.

You froze up slightly, turning back around until you saw out of the corner of your eye, something that kind of scared you.

Chishiya was glaring.

Not at you, of course, he was glaring at Niragi. He never glared, just gazed.. or stared. Chishiya flexed his hands in his pockets, refraining from reaching out to wrap an arm around you.

Okay what the hell is happening to him?

First, he cuddled you.. (despite it being really short), he called you cute, felt jealous, and now this?

He might as well be fucked.

A/N: Okay, people really liked the first one, so I plan to definitely make a series of this!

@ankababy @adanfore

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #chishiya smut #aib #smut #angst #help how do i tag this #Nijiro #nijiro murakami #shuntaro chishiya #aib chishiya #aib x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #My shalyaas 💔💔💔#part 2 Love me not

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willows-escape · 1 year ago

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Carpe Diem - Musical!Erik x Reader

Pairing: Musical!Erik x Fem!Reader

Summary: You'd received possibly the worst news a high status woman could receive in their entire life time, and you had only one thought and one goal in mind. Erik had a different one.

Warnings: angst, forced marriage, a lot of crying, jealousy, uninformed consent (?), almost getting caught, oral (f and m receiving), finger sucking, vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, crying during sex, forced mask reveal, mentions of murder, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping

Words: 9570

Notes: sorry this took so long, coursework's a pain in the ass and i've written and deleted what i've wanted to write so many times. i've written seven different stories at this point and rewritten them each at least three times. i decided to pull back all the complexity of what i was originally going for and ending up with this thing.

i tried to make the phantom more submissive because i know people wanted to read that but musical!erik just doesn't feel submissive to me, at least not in this kind of scenario. he's just too much of a control freak i feel and i think he would become more of a switch later into a relationship when he grows comfortable.

hopefully i don't take so long to write my next thing in future, and i pray i continue to improve in my writing skills lol.

You were in flight, your heart pounding a thunderous rhythm in your chest, matching the frenzied drumming of your feet against the opera house's ancient wooden floors. Every sinew in your body screamed in protest, yet you willed yourself to run faster, harder. The adrenaline coursing through your veins drowned out all thought, all reason, save for one - you have to get to the rooftop.

Your relentless fate was stealthily stalking you, icy tendrils of fear unfurling down your spine, as you envisioned the pitiless roots of destiny relentlessly chasing you, eager to entangle you within their remorseless clutches. The letter you gripped in your trembling hand was the harbinger of your impending doom, a chilling memento of the ominous vow you had once made.

As you turned the corner, your heart pounded in your chest as you darted up the flight of stairs towards the clandestine meeting point. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, matching the dusky sky's ethereal haze. As nightfall descended, it signalled the time when both of you could shed your public facades and bask in the tranquillity of each other's presence, shrouded in shadows and secrecy.

Every muscle in your thighs and calves screamed in protest, pleading for mercy as you drove yourself onward. You forced yourself through each step. As you pushed through the final barrier, the rooftop door swung open, revealing your destination. A gust of crisp, cold air met your face, a shocking contrast against the sweltering heat of your exertion. The sudden chill cut through the stifling humidity clinging to your skin, offering a brief, but sweet, respite.

"Erik? Erik, where are you?" you called out aimlessly, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

The tension of anticipation didn't linger long. Soon, the haunting familiarity of the black suit and porcelain mask punctuated your line of sight. A smile, so ignorant and blissful, graced his hidden face, while your own mirrored nothing but distress. As your eyes met, his smile faltered and a sense of panic ignited within his gaze.

"Has somebody hurt you?" The first conclusion came tumbling out of his lips as he rushed to stand in front of you, hands reaching out to caress your arms.

An onslaught of feelings of safety and security besieged you. The caress of his gentle touch, his sugar-coated words, and the purity of his love stood stark against the frigid future looming ahead - ice-cold eyes, indifferent touch, and a home that was nothing more than an glorified prison. Your vision blurred, as if submerged underwater, with briny tears carving trails down your icy cheeks. Your body convulsed with splutters and coughs, surrendering to the raw unravelling of your emotions.

"My dear, please, who did this to you?" His voice wavered, desperation tinging his plea. "I can't bare to see you like this," he confessed, his heart aching to draw you into his arms, to cocoon you in a protective embrace. Yet, his hands twitched with uncertainty, unaccustomed to offering unbidden comfort and tormented by the fear of making the wrong choice.

Struggling, you gasped for the words that seemed to evade your grasp. Finally, in a pitiful whimper, you managed to choke out the truth, "My father. It's my father."

"He has hurt you?" His words, taut with restrained fury, barely managed to mask the cataclysmic rage broiling within his core. His eyes flamed with the intensity of a thousand suns, pledging an unspoken oath that he would move heavens and earth to guard you from any harm. He would not let this happen again, his earlier leniency was a mistake he wouldn't repeat.

"No... well, yes, sort of," you stammered, every word a struggle as tears choked your speech. Your sentences, muddled and hardly coherent, tumbled out in a rush. He stood there, a silent pillar of patience amidst your storm. "The curtain had just fallen on tonight's performance, when Madame Giry found me, said someone had come to the Opera Populaire with a letter for me. I ventured backstage, and – and –”

"Take your time," he reassured you, trying to keep his tone soft and soothing when he was feeling anything but that.

"My father," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "He sent this to me," you raised your arm, presenting him with the damning parchment that bore the news, "It declares that I have a single week to make my return... and to dutifully submit to his wishes, to bind myself in marriage to a man he's handpicked for me.”

As the words tore from your lips, a deluge of sobs overpowered you, shattering your composure into fragments. You crumpled onto the frigid concrete, your body convulsing with the ferocity of your wails, echoing the raw torment festering within.

"He has already decided my fate, to wed me to Alexander Beaumont, heir to one of the wealthiest fortunes in Paris. But, Erik, I cannot bear the thought! I'd choose the most excruciating demise before even contemplating marrying him!" Your tears began to mingle with your snot, humiliation gnawing your insides, knowing he was bearing witness to your disarray. Yet, you were powerless to stop it, and no amount of snivelling could quell the impending sense of doom building within you.

Erik was consumed by a fury so intense, it was a blinding white light in his mind. Thousands of brutal scenarios played out in rapid succession, each a unique way he could annihilate the man who dared to pull you away from him. The man who had reduced you to nothing more than a pawn, a puppet to be used in his ruthless climb up the social ladder.

"I've met him before, his gaze piercing through me, speaking of me as though I were a mere fly on the wall... If I were to wed him, I'd be reduced to nothing more than a trophy wife, imprisoned within the confines of a household, expected to bear children annually until nature robs me of the ability," you choked out between sobs, bitterly recalling his elaborate discourse to your father about his archaic aspirations for a wife, a die-hard traditionalist to his core.

"The Opera Populaire, an impossibility now. My friends, forever out of reach. And you... you, I shall never feast my eyes upon again." The tears assaulted you, battering you with the unrelenting force of a tempest as the brutal reality bore down, each tick of the clock amplifying the sting of truth.

"Then don't go," he uttered, his words masquerading as a suggestion, yet ringing with the commanding tone of a demand, "Don't return home, do not bend to your father's will. There's always another escape, always."

"Oh, Erik," your voice broke, anguish seeping into each syllable, "I can't." A hard lump constricted your throat, the bitter reality of your predicament sinking in. "My father...he wields power, he has influence. If I dare not return, all of Paris would be hunting me down, a bounty on my head. I'm cornered, Erik. I'm left with no other choice."

Before he could utter another syllable, you swiftly eradicated the residue that had amassed on your skin and surged to your feet. Your eyes were ablaze with a bloodshot hue, stray teardrops stubbornly tracing a path down your face. Yet, an unyielding determination was etched across your features. You yearned for one final moment, one last poignant memory before the unavoidable reality of leaving him forever would consume you.

"Take me," you urged in a hushed plea, your gaze ensnaring him with such profound intensity that he was left with no room to misconstrue your meaning. Your purpose was undeniable, and it struck him into stillness. "Please, I beg you, do not deny me this final experience, this closing moment of exhilaration. For I am to be condemned.”

Your fragility was palpable, an image of vulnerability and innocence that made the idea of your bodies entwining, your souls merging into one, nearly impossible to suppress. Erik was gripped by a relentless thought; this encounter wouldn't be your last. A scheme was rapidly taking shape in his mind, a bold plan that he was awaiting the opportunity to enact. Yet, beneath it all, he was merely a mortal, how could he resist such a sweet opportunity laid before him?

As though your initial plea wasn't potent enough, you read his silence as a stark rejection. With a desperate urgency, you persisted, "I must experience what it means to unite with someone who harbours a profound love for me, and whom I equally adore, before time steals this chance forever. This is my final request of you, please, grant me this.”

Every trace of Erik's reservations - his mask, his insecurities, his lack of experience - evaporated in an instant. His entire being was consumed by the sight of your pleading eyes and enticing lips, desperately imploring him to make love to you. The intensity of your need, your last request born out of the fear of never seeing him again, ignited a scorching fire in his abdomen. His slacks tightened unbearably as his body responded to the raw desire coursing through him.

He didn't respond with words. Instead, his body lunged forward, crashing against yours, his lips desperately colliding with yours in an intoxicating, chaotic ballet. It was flawlessly imperfect, devoid of rhythm or pattern, yet it echoed the sheer intensity of your shared lust and fervour. A surge of electricity coursed through your veins, your skin prickling, your stomach churning with a heady mix of anxiety and exhilaration as you passionately kissed him.

Small, desperate gasps and whimpers escaped your trembling lips as they urgently sought his, the icy chill of Paris causing a cascade of goosebumps to erupt across your skin. You clung to him with a ferocity born of pure, raw fear, as if you were precariously perched on the brink of an abyss and he was the only tether keeping you from plummeting into the void. He was your sole anchor in a sea of chaos, the only force keeping you alive.

The searing heat of your skin beneath his fingertips sent his mind spiralling, the sensation of you - so soft, so yielding under his hands, a staggering, unfamiliar experience. He could feel the rhythmic surge and ebb of your chest, your breath, a hot whisper against his face as your lips clashed and fused, time and time again - he was certain he could feel the pulsating rhythm of your veins as your blood roared through your body. So vivid, so fiercely alive.

Inescapably, the mask had turned into an intolerable burden. Each movement caused it to ruthlessly scrape against your skin, the epidermis painfully inflamed and raw. With a heavy sense of reluctance, you retreated, your eyes slowly fluttering open to behold the breath taking spectacle of your angel, gasping for air, his eyes wide and darkened with intensity.

"My love," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers nervously fiddling with the lapels of his coat. "I know this is a significant request..." The tension hung heavy in the air between you two. "But, would you consider... removing your mask?" Your heart pounded in your chest as you dared to meet his eyes. "It's been catching on my skin, and it's starting to hurt. If it's too much, I understand! We can find another way. It's just that... I yearn to see all of you, unobstructed."

His expression shifted to one of grave solemnity. Deep within, he had known this moment would arrive, yet he had clung to the hope that it would be delayed, that he could savour more of you and this opportunity before you were cruelly torn from his grasp. Now, his countenance was a spectacle of terror, a sight so horrific that he was certain it would repel you instantly, forever severing any connection you could have had. It was this dread, this fear of losing you, that compelled him to deny your request.

"No," he declared, his voice cold and final, making it clear he had no intention of prolonging this conversation any further.

A lump formed in your throat, a silent reflection of the tension in the air. His features were chiselled, hardened as if sculpted by an unseen force. His eyes, unyielding and intense, bore into you, commanding silence without uttering a single word. You were far from foolish, aware that any protest would shatter the brittle tranquillity of the moment. Respecting his unspoken plea, you held your tongue, allowing the silence to envelop the space between you.

You plunged back into the fervour of your previous kisses, this time contorting awkwardly to keep your face clear of the cold, threatening porcelain weapon. With each passing moment, you fought to maintain the connection, a bizarre dance with a man whose full face you'd never seen. A wave of filth washed over you, a creeping sense you should be drowning in shame, but you found no room for such feelings. Not when his touch set your skin ablaze with desire.

His hands settled on the small of your back, gently rubbing above the fabric of your dress. You naturally moved closer, your soft chest against his solid one. Your hands wandered, touching every part of him within reach.

"Is this what you call a lovers outing, Piangi? It's cold and dirty!" The piercing voice of the renowned prima donna erupted from the rooftop entrance, slicing through the silence. You and Erik froze.

"Ah, forgive me, my love," replied her lover, his familiar Italian accent flooding through his words. His voice sounded awkward and dejected. One could almost imagine his look of shame, realizing his romantic gesture wasn't appreciated. "I wanted to look at the stars with you, but if that's not what you desire-"

"Forget it," Carlotta spat out. The echo of footsteps approaching sent jolts of panic through your veins, your heart hammering against your ribcage. Erik, however, remained calm amongst the chaos. His fingers laced through yours, pulling you urgently towards the shadowed sanctuary of the rooftop's far corner.

"If you get too cold, dear, I have my coat with me. Just say the word and I will give it to you," Piangi spoke, his voice straining with the effort to pierce through Carlotta's gloom.

As their voices clashed in petty discord, a sudden blast of searing air prickled the nape of your neck. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your hair bristling on end. A whispered command, laced with urgency, pierced the tension, "Stay behind me and follow. Make no noise. Not even a whisper."

With a sense of increasing trepidation, you gave a tense nod. You watched, breath held, as Erik emerged from your concealed sanctuary, prowling the expanse of the rooftop with a predator's stealth. He would intermittently halt, shielding himself within various makeshift hideaways. You hastened to mirror his movements, until at last, you found yourself inside the familiar confines of the opera house. His hand ensnared yours, his grip firm yet comforting, as he urged you onwards into the unknown.

It didn't take long before he ceased his steps, drawn like a magnet to the first mirror you encountered. His grip on your hand slackened for a fleeting moment, his fingers dancing over the wall in a cryptic rhythm. There was a tense hush, then the sharp click echoed in the silence, and the mirror slid back with a menacing grace to unveil a hidden passageway.

"What on earth?" you whispered, a tremor in your voice as you gazed upon the hole in the wall where once a mirror was.

Erik wheeled around abruptly, a sense of urgency flickering in his eyes as he extended his hand to you. You paused, uncertainty clouding your features, "Where does this passageway lead? Where are you taking me?"

"Trust me," he implored, his voice barely a whisper, yet carrying an undertone of desperation.

You swallowed, your throat tight with a mix of fear and anticipation. The situation and context around it weighed heavily on your mind, a potent cocktail of potential consequences swirling before you. The silence was deafening as you deliberated, the seconds stretching into what felt like an eternity. Then, with a deep, steadying breath, you extended a trembling hand towards him, a silent acquiescence. You nodded, a solemn gesture of trust, surrendering your fate into his hands.

He responded with a nod of his own, guiding you towards the opening. The entrance was inconveniently elevated from the ground - not to an extreme where a leap was required - but enough to pose a considerable risk. With a firm grip, he assisted you as you stepped inside, ensuring the voluminous folds of your dress evaded entanglement. He trailed in your wake, the air heavy with anticipation.

With a precise touch, he activated a concealed point on the wall, causing the mirror to slide back into normalcy. The echo of silence descended, the only sound being the synchronization of your breaths reverberating through the confined passageway. A whirlwind of questions swirled in your mind, each one violently dismissed as the realisation of your shared purpose gripped you. Of what you were coming down here to do.

He steered you through a maze of bewildering turns, his whispers of caution echoing in the cold, damp air. His grip on your hand was constant, a lifeline in the suffocating darkness. His familiarity with the convoluted tunnels was unsettling, and a chilling worry gnawed at you, as you wondered what hidden dangers made him tread with such measured care.

Soon you were greeted by a lake, its misty greens and blues shimmering so bright it twinkled like glitter. The view was mesmerising, the many candles scattered around lending the stone walls a glorious golden glow that took your breath away. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, the foliage blending together beautifully as it decorated the walls. You gasped.

He guided you towards a gondola which was tethered to a stout wooden stake driven deep into the ground. With a steadying hand, he aided your entrance into the vessel, ensuring your balance as you nestled into the boat's hollow core. Following your lead, he stepped in with calculated caution, his grip closing around a weathered paddle, poised at the ready to commence the strenuous task of rowing.

"What is this place?" You asked, ogling at the scenery around you.

"My home, my hiding place, the Phantom's lair, the sewers under the opera house..." he drawled off, beginning to row, "whichever one you wish to call it. All apply."

"You live down here?" You questioned, your brow furrowed as the icy air bit harshly at your exposed skin. The beauty of the place was undeniable, yet it held a chilling solitude that whispered of profound isolation, making it a daunting place to inhabit.

"Since I was a young boy," he spoke as if the words that spilled from his lips held no weight.

You couldn't shake the thought that something terrifying lurked beneath the mask. He had warned you, but you'd never considered how truly terrible it could be until now. Your eyebrows shot up, eyes dilating as your mind spun wildly with grotesque possibilities. What could be so monstrous about his visage that he was compelled to conceal it in the depths of a dank cellar?

Clearly, you had no intention of broaching the topic; it would undoubtedly ruin your plans for the evening. Yet, as the journey unfolded, you became lost in a whirlwind of contemplation, feverishly imagining the concealed face beneath the mask. Your affection was unwavering, regardless of how horrific his face was you'd feel the same way, but the mystery added an exhilarating layer of intrigue that consumed you.

Within mere minutes of fervent rowing, the silhouette of land loomed ahead, jolting you from your daze back into reality. You remained in the confines of the boat as Erik disembarked with calculated precision. He secured the boat with a swift, practiced motion, restoring the paddle to its rightful place. Then, he pivoted towards you, his hand outstretched in an offer of assistance, his eyes locked onto yours.

You smiled graciously, accepting his helping hand as you stepped out of the boat. You were enchanted, looking around at his home and how it was decorated. It was beyond your wildest imagination, intriguing and enigmatic, labyrinthine and gothic.

You were struck by the vast arrangement of candles. They casted a dim, dancing light which bathed the walls in an ethereal glow, casting long, eerie shadows on the dank stone. There was a majestic, ornate pipe organ, and a big mirror off to the side. All the way in the farthest corner, you spotted a bed, grand and draped in heavy, dark fabrics. You were in awe.

Erik did not give you long to stand and stare, as he was quick to pull you in the direction of where his bed resided. After a long, unfamiliar journey, you found yourself standing at your ultimate destination.

Anxiety, like a shadowy predator, stalked and then launched itself upon you, its claws sinking deep into your psyche. Your blood surged in a torrent, your heart hammered an urgent rhythm against your ribs, and your palms became slick with cold sweat as the full weight of your hasty agreement descended upon you.

"Now, it's my turn to pose the question," Erik initiated, his every footstep purposefully resonating tension as he incrementally diminished the space between you both. Your eyes, wide and alert, mirrored the mounting suspense. "Will you do this with me? Allow us to feel each other, become one, before you are to leave and never return?"

Tears welled threateningly in your eyes, a bitter reminder to the tortuous ordeal that loomed above. A personal hell was waiting, embodied in the stony indifference of your father and the pitiless gaze of your suitor. Discarding caution and fear, you hurled yourself against him with the force of a dead weight. In the face of despair, your inner flame roared back to life, desperation clawing its way to the surface once more.

His arms coiled around you with an intensity that left your breath hitched, his lips fiercely claiming yours. With a sudden, swift motion, he hoisted you into the air, your legs automatically snaking around his waist in response. He gently, yet assertively, laid you upon the cool sheets of the bed. He loomed over you. He began to crawl atop, compelling your legs to part in silent compliance. A gasp of anticipation escaped your lips, swallowed by his own, as you felt the weight of him gradually descend upon you.

As you kissed, the inadvertent brush of his crotch against your core sent a jolt through you, driving your senses into a wild frenzy. The searing heat from his arousal, even through the barrier of his trousers, was palpable, each pulsating throb a teasing promise of what was to come. Your breath hitched, heart pounding in your chest, as saliva-slick tongues ventured into uncharted territories, escalating the tension that hung in the air.

Driven by instinct, Erik's hands made a beeline for your sleeves, yanking with an insatiable restlessness, a silent plea for their removal. You countered his advances, pushing him back, a giggle escaping you at his stubborn demeanour. Undeterred, his lips sought new territory, latching onto the sensitive expanse of your neck, peppering kisses and grazing his teeth in a seductive dance that sent shivers down your spine.

Erik's movements against your aching core grew in intensity as he realised what he was brushing against, threatening to silence you completely. Yet, if he truly desired your uninhibited vulnerability, he needed to grant you the space to shed every layer.

"Erik," you tried to infuse your voice with authority, but it faltered, punctuated by your ragged sighs and helpless whimpers, "I'm laced into a corset, it needs to come off. Release me."

He moved with urgency, moving away from your form and allowing the space for you to rise, your knees pressing into the solid mattress. With a focused precision, you began to unbutton your dress, the fabric gliding over your head with a practiced ease, your focus fully enveloped in the task at hand. So engrossed were you, you failed to notice the predatory way his gaze drank in the sight of your bared skin, or the noticeable gulp that resonated from his throat as more and more of you unfolded before his eager eyes.

Your fingers trembled, struggling against the stubborn knot that held the ties of your undergarments in a vice-like grip. It was a battle you were unaccustomed to, always having the help of someone else to aid you with your corset. Your difficulty was palpable, a silent cry for assistance. Lifting your gaze to Erik, your eyes were wide, desperate pools of plea.

"Would you... could you, do the honours?" you asked through gritted teeth, your fingers clawing fruitlessly at the defiant knot, the bulge in the string a mocking testament to the maid's overly-zealous efforts.

In a silent affirmation, he nodded his head, his hand reaching out with an unspoken authority to rotate your form, granting him unimpeded access to your corset. You felt your undergarments grow increasingly wet under his firm handling, a damp patch steadily spreading across the fabric in response to your mounting anticipation. Heat suffused your cheeks, each accidental graze of his fingers against your back as he navigated the complexities of the female attire sending a shocks of tension through your body.

After an intense struggle, he conquered the knot, crafted by your maid's expert hands. But victory left him bewildered.

"Now that it's undone, what's the next step?" His gaze bore into the corset's lacings, a new challenge awaiting him.

With a chuckle rippling through the tension, you interjected, "Allow me." Swiftly, you unhooked the busk at the front, stripping the garment from your form. It cascaded to the floor, disappearing from view.

Bare and unshielded, your form was revealed from the hips upward, only your undergarments veiling what remained. There you were, a portrait of vulnerability, kneeling in anticipation yet turned away, placing a blind faith in him, trusting his unspoken intentions.

His hands seized your hips with an assertive grip, drawing you into his sphere, letting you tumble back onto the mattress as you laid facing him. Your breasts bounded with the abrupt motion, your soft contours and supple skin devoured by his relentless gaze. He studied every detail, every curve and secret of your figure, etching them into his memory.

"You might find this... somewhat audacious," you stammered, your gaze darting around the room, evading his intense stare, "But I've come across something in a book. And I have this... this urge to experience it."

Erik seemed to snap out of a daze, his brows furrowing in curiosity. "And what might that be?" he asked.

You dropped your gaze, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you attempted to muster the courage to voice your desires. "Are you familiar with... cunnilingus?"

A silence fell over the room. Erik appeared shell-shocked, his lips parting but no sound escaping as he tried to comprehend the salacious request that had just spilled from your lips. His experiences with carnal pleasures were extensive, more so after meeting you- he'd spent countless nights engrossed in books filled with varying degrees of erotica. He'd envisioned you and him as the characters, and his fantasies of caressing, embracing, and making passionate love to you had kept him awake many a night.

"Briefly, why?" He asked, his voice steady but his façade barely concealing the turmoil within.

"I want... I want you to do that to me," you managed to utter, swallowing down the embarrassment that threatened to choke you. "My betrothed, he... he wouldn't. I need to know, just once, what it feels like."

A dark shadow passed over his face at your words, the mention of the man you were intended to wed igniting something within him. His lips met your skin with a ferocity that stole your breath away. His body was pressed against yours, a desperate attempt to meld into one, to erase the space that separated you. His kisses trailed a scorching path from your neck downwards, each mark he left with his teeth due to the simmering anger that consumed him.

His hot breath teased against your core, creating a whirl of anticipation that caused your legs to twitch restlessly, your back to curl off the bed. An tingling sensation flowed from your core to the tips of your legs, prompting your thighs to instinctively tighten. He exerted his dominance, forcibly parting your legs to the sides, his chest pulsating with a primal pride as he observed the clear signs of arousal staining your underwear. The thin fabric did nothing to veil your desire for him.

His lips embarked on a deliberate exploration around your intimate area, strategically withholding the direct contact you craved, fueling a desperate need within you. He relished in your quiet pleas, in your desperation for him, for his touch. He wanted to hear it again - your voice, filled with longing, confessing your need for him, your love for him.

A few teasing kisses and feather-light licks over the fabric of your underwear were enough to reduce you to a state of complete disarray. Your head thrown back, lips parted in a silent plea, you begged, "Please, God, please."

He was relentless, persisting in his torturously slow pace and feather-light touches. He was prepared to play this drawn-out game; after all, he'd been fantasizing about moments like this since the dawn of his adolescence. He could wait an eternity if needed.

By the time he finally conceded, you were a whirlwind of emotion, eyes squeezed shut, body writhing as you grappled with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment, struggling to voice your feelings. You appeared as if you had been plucked straight out of a painting, your body seemingly sculpted by celestial forces, the ethereal glow on your skin from your sweat rendering you nothing short of angelic.

His fingers danced along the delicate straps of your underwear, tracing the curve of your hips as he meticulously slid them down your legs. Your underwear was discarded with an impatient kick. He admired how your lips glistened with your wetness, eyes wide and mouth agape as he inspected your parts. His cock felt like it was suffocating in it's tight confinement, begging to be released. He subconsciously rubbed himself against his quilt, hips driving him harder and harder into the fabric.

He didn't allow himself to spend an excessive amount of time simply staring, his fingers gingerly parting the folds of your intimate area as he gradually moved ever closer to the spot where you craved his touch the most. His tongue hesitantly emerged, like a tentative explorer venturing into uncharted territory, testing the waters as he gradually grew accustomed to your unique taste. It was an intoxicating, addictive flavour that he found himself drawn to, your evident arousal dissolving on his tongue like the sweetest candy. As he became more familiar with your body's reactions, his actions started to grow decidedly bolder, his initial cautiousness melting away.

The smooth, cold porcelain of the mask, right where his nose should have been, made direct contact with a particular spot on your body. It was a spot so sensitive, so responsive to his touch, that it turned you into a trembling, moaning mess. Each touch was like heaven, each movement a wave of pleasure that washed over you. It was a sensation you had never experienced before, and it left you weak, gasping for breath.

He pushed himself further into you, his movements becoming more desperate, more needy. His tongue, warm and insistent, ventured into every hidden corner it could find. It was as though he was trying to memorize you, to imprint the taste of you onto his very soul. He was consuming you, devouring you in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

The side of his face that wasn't hidden behind the mask was growing wetter with each passing moment. Each new wave of your arousal either swallowed by him or adding to the wet mess on his face. His eyes, dark and intense, never left your face, watching your every reaction, feeding off your pleasure.

With each passing moment, you found yourself teetering on the edge of exquisite pleasure, its intensity growing with a fervour that rendered you breathless. As cries of delight spilled from your lips, your fingers curled into the fabric of his bedsheets, clutching them with a strength that threatened to rip them to shreds. Now that you had experienced such ecstasy, you were unsure how you’d ever live without it again.

The pressure swelled within the depths of your abdomen, escalating dangerously as your eyes lost focus, surrendering willingly to Erik's touch. The burgeoning tension coiled within you like a heated serpent, until it could no longer be contained, compelling it to uncoil and release the pent-up passion that had been simmering within. Everything let go.

Erik's lips found your most sensitive spot again, sucking on it gently, coaxing a symphony of soft whimpers and quivering gasps from deep within your throat.

The intense sensations that flooded your body soon became far too much and left you with no other option but to gently, albeit reluctantly, push him away from your soaked cunt. His visible cheek and chin bore the shiny evidence of your pleasure, an erotic testament to the intimacy that had just transpired. His lips, swollen and red, were slightly parted as he laboured to catch his breath, the aftermath of your intense encounter leaving him just as breathless as you were.

He planted a single kiss on your thigh before he rose, drinking in the sinful sight of you lying beneath him. Your chest heaved, and the intimate area between your thighs was slick with a mixture of saliva and arousal, a mess he alone was responsible for. He was in disbelief at the sight before him - a woman who had pleaded for his touch, who had permitted him to venture into territory he was not meant to traverse.

You felt utterly winded, struggling to regain your breath as your mind remained in a dense fog. As you sat up, the ringing sensation of blood rushing in your ears was almost deafening. You gave him a once-over and let out a weary pout.

“Why am I naked and you are still dressed head to toe?” you playfully whined, clumsily rising up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt.

A wave of panic washed over him. While a less sensitive subject than the removal of his mask, he was still hesitant about the concept of somebody seeing him disrobed. His hand swiftly intercepted yours, worried eyes looking directly into yours.

“We don’t have to do this,” you reminded him, “Removing clothes is quite necessary to engage in intercourse, so if that’s off the table, that is fine and we do not have to go any further.”

The looming threat of your sexual endeavours coming to a halt was so disconcerting that it pushed his fear of being seen nude into a corner of his mind. If you managed to bare all in front of him, then surely, he should be able to do the same. No horrifying disfigurement marred his body, save for a few scars and marks, which offered him a semblance of comfort amid his anxiety. Yet, it felt so extraordinarily odd - prior to you, people avoided him, disdaining him as a bizarre outcast to either laugh at or run away from. But you, you wanted to see him. You saw him.

With his consent, you delicately unfastened the buttons of his shirt, your fingers tracing the contours of his body as you gently slid it off along with his coat. The anticipation heightened as you unbuttoned his trousers, a sense of awe overtaking you as you noticed the visible sign of his desire pressing against the fabric of his underwear. With a slow, tantalizing motion, you slid his slacks down, pooling them around his ankles, leaving him to step out of them. The sight of him in such a state had your mouth watering, the subtle twitching under the thin fabric not going unnoticed. You glanced up, your eyes silently asking for permission before you proceeded to remove his last piece of clothing.

He was perfect - not too intimidating, yet not too modest. A balance that promised pleasure without the prospect of discomfort. A smile graced your lips as your hands were drawn to him, appreciating the prominent veins that adorned his underside and the swollen tip that seemed to crave the soothing touch of your lips. You didn’t have a second thought before you ducked down to take him into your mouth.

The moment that his length was enveloped by the soft, velvety embrace of your mouth, he felt an explosive sensation, as if he might shatter. The intoxicating blend of your warmth and the slippery wetness was an overwhelming sensory overload, causing his eyes to flutter closed as he savoured the sensation in its entirety. His low, primal groans amplified into a resonant hum of pleasure as you explored his length, your tender hand caressing the parts your lips had yet to discover.

You surfaced for air, drawing in a deep breath before giving him a seductive smile. Your hand continued to stroke him, maintaining the rhythm you'd established, "Have you heard of this one too? It's called fellatio. I've heard from men that it feels quite pleasurable, so I wanted to give it a try."

His brows knitted together in confusion and a hint of possessiveness, "Who's been talking to you about things like this?" he hissed, his fingers entangling in the roots of your hair. He didn't tug or pull, but simply let his hand rest there, grounding himself in the sensation of your touch.

“No one, I just overhear a lot,” you winked, a playful glint in your eyes.

Finding yourself drawn back to your prior task, you returned your mouth to its position, delicately licking around the sides and base of his manhood with a renewed vigour. You made a point to explore every contour, every ridge, leaving no part untouched by your careful ministrations. As you took him into your mouth once more, you hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight, welcoming space that made him gasp. You allowed your tongue to wander, tracing the map of protruding veins that decorated his length, making him shiver at your touch. You took your time, adjusting slowly but surely to accommodate his length.

Over time, you found a rhythm that was as steady as it was sensual, each movement drawing forth intoxicating sounds of pleasure from your lover. Your hand was rendered unnecessary, forgotten at your side as your face pressed closer, your nose brushing against the heat of his skin. The taste of him, the intimacy of the act, left you breathless, saliva slipping past your lips. The symphony of his escalating moans and guttural grunts echoed in your ears, signifying the mounting pleasure coursing through him.

Erik was teetering on the edge, every fibre of his being screaming for release. Time had lost all meaning; all he knew was the burning desire to break down your defences and claim you as his own. He tugged urgently at your hair, a silent plea for you to relinquish him from your mouth. His ego soared at the sight of your ravenous gaze and ragged breathing. Sweat was pooling uncomfortably beneath his mask, creating a stifling heat that was nearly unbearable. Yet, he would not — could not — remove it. For your love, he would endure any torment.

With a gentle persuasion, he coaxed you onto the plush solace of the bed, a wordless request to which you surrendered willingly. His fingers, rough yet tender in touch, traced the shape of your lips. You accepted them eagerly, lavishing them with a soft suckle until he withdrew them. Setting off on a slow, teasing journey, his fingers embarked on a path that danced across your lips, before descending the length of your neck. His touch was electrifying, a trail of shivers marking their progress.

His fingers continued their southern movement, drawn to the inviting warmth of your most intimate area. As he approached your yearning core, your breath hitched, a silent supplication mirrored in your eyes as you awaited his touch. He relished the anticipation, playfully circling the edge before carefully penetrating you with one of his fingers. The sensation of being filled by him was intoxicating, your eyes fluttering in sheer overwhelm as he moved in a rhythm that was leisurely and gentle. Every part of your being was tuned to his touch, each motion sending ripples of pleasure cascading through your body.

"Erik," you moaned, unaware of how you just moaning his name made his arms feel like jelly. He pushed through, eager to please and show you how good he could make you feel.

He cautiously inserted another finger, gradually stretching you out around his digits. He was utterly enchanted by the soft, plush feel of your walls, which seemed to welcome him in their embrace. He explored you curiously, his fingers gently probing, reaching deeper and deeper inside of you. It was like he was charting a course through a previously unexplored territory, each new discovery making him yearn for more.

The sounds that escaped your lips - cries of pleasure, of anticipation, of need - were music to his ears. The way your body responded to his touch, the way your breath hitched every time he moved, the way your fingers clung to him - everything about you made him feel weak with desire.

He didn't keep his fingers at work for very long, just enough time to make sure that you were adequately warmed up, ready for what would come next. With a simple gesture, he signalled for you to move further up the bed. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable, so he guided you to position your head against the plush softness of the pillows that lay strewn at the head of the bed.

His gaze was fixed on you, watching intently as you took the next step. Without needing any words, you communicated your agreement to what was about to unfold. You spat into your hand, a simple but intimate act, sitting up before carefully spreading the moisture over his length.

You allowed yourself to lay back down, your body welcoming the coolness of the sheets beneath you. Erik carefully positioned himself at your sopping wet entrance; his eyes, filled with a mix of anticipation and desire, locked onto yours as he began to push against you. You could feel his bulbous tip as it slowly pushed past your entrance, a sensation so new and unfamiliar that you couldn't help but squeal, your body jolting in response to the sudden intrusion. Erik's mouth hung open in a silent gasp, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt the first part of him slide inside you.

With a slow, cautious movement, he pressed forward further, sinking into you bit by bit, deeper and deeper until he was fully nestled within your warmth. Every inch of him was surrounded by you, his breath hitching once more as he adjusted to the velvety sensation.

For you, it was a fervent blaze, a primal burn that seared through every nerve. His manhood was a stark contrast to his previously tender touch, an unmerciful comparison that seemed impossible to reconcile. A soft whimper of pain broke free, a silent begging for him to pause his movements and allow your body to accommodate his invasion.

You lingered in the throes of this discomfort, each second diluting the initial shock and morphing it into a thrilling wave of bliss. It was a leisurely metamorphosis, a sultry dance between pain and pleasure, until all that was left was pure, unadulterated desire that left you gasping for air and craving more.

Once your body had succumbed to this new sensation, you gave him a silent nod of approval, a signal that he could resume. Erik let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, and his initial gentleness gave way to a carnal rhythm, each slow, deliberate thrust sending ripples of ecstasy that cascaded through your very being.

“So this is what it feels like,” you chuckled, less talking to Erik and more so thinking out loud.

Erik was so utterly focused on you and the indescribable sensations your body was offering him that he found himself unable to formulate an appropriate response. He was completely entranced by the way your intimate area, slick with your abundant arousal, enveloped him so thoroughly. He was lost in the feeling of you, engaged in an internal struggle between wanting to see the expressions of pure pleasure that danced across your face, or to look down and observe the erotic sight of his own manhood disappearing again and again into your inviting warmth.

He draped himself over you, his form a sanctuary, shielding you from the world beyond. His face nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder, an alcove where he could inhale your scent. The cool porcelain of his mask contrasted with your heated skin, tempering the dew of perspiration that glossed your body. Underneath the mask, he endured the humid confinement - a necessary sacrifice for the exquisite torment he was bestowing upon you. Each powerful thrust sent ripples of ecstasy through you, rendering you breathless and dizzy with delight. The potent heat was all-encompassing, filling your consciousness with nothing but unadulterated, exquisite pleasure.

"I love you," you breathed out in a whisper, your voice dripping with desire. Each word was punctuated by a soft moan, the sound of it causing shivers to cascade down his spine, your hot breath against his ear igniting a fire within him.

As if his struggles weren't already overwhelming enough, your words seemed to only add more fuel to the already blazing fire within him. It was as though every syllable you uttered stoked the flames, pushing him further into a realm of passion he had never known before. His arm, strong and certain, forced its way behind your back, pulling you up to hold you close to him. It was a closeness that was almost palpable, almost too much, as he thrusted inside of you.

“I love you too,” he groaned, his words saturated with an intense, raw emotion that welled up in his eyes, the tears threatening to cascade down his face in an uncontrolled torrent of feeling.

You, on the other hand, were no better off, your own tears of sheer joy and devastating heartbreak pooling in your eyes until they were beyond their capacity to hold back any longer. They overflowed, running down your face like precious diamonds, a display of the depth of your misery. Making love to somebody who genuinely loved you back was a concept so beautifully simple, yet tragically forbidden. It was an experience that brimmed with a love so deep, a care so nurturing, and a passion and compassion so profound that it was unparalleled.

You knew you would never encounter such a feeling again in your lifetime. You were merely attempting to stave off the inevitable end, attempting to shield yourself from the stark reality that awaited your return to the surface world. Each moment was a battle against the clock, each second a desperate attempt to extend the blissful ignorance of the impending conclusion.

In that moment, you belonged to him and he to you, your bodies intertwined and connected as the flames consumed you both. You held onto him with a desperation that mirrored your own, your arms wrapping around him, hugging him close. You were a lifeline to each other, two beings lost in a sea of passion and desire, holding on to the only solid thing in a world that was spinning out of control.

With every pulsating sensation, you tried desperately to prevent the impending climax that was steadily building within you. You wrestled against it, mustering all of the strength and willpower you possessed. You didn’t want this magical night, this passion and desire, to end. The thought of the experience drawing to a close was unbearable, and yet there was nothing you could to do stop the familiar building pressure in your abdomen.

And you knew, in the deepest recesses of your mind, that you shouldn't have given in to the temptation- that you should have exercised restraint and kept your wandering hands to yourself. Despite this, you were a prisoner to your own overwhelming curiosity, a force so powerful it threatened to consume you whole.

The haze of pleasure Erik was weaving around you kept intensifying, it ebbed and flowed into every crevice of your consciousness, distorting the boundary between the tangible world and the intoxicating euphoria you found yourself spiralling into. Your hands, as though guided by an insatiable yearning that was wholly their own, found their way to the mask that resided on his head.

Your fingers, trembling with anticipation and anxiety, began to play with the thin string keeping the mask firmly in place, protecting his true form. The tension in your body was mounting, your anxiety and the impending orgasm that threatened to shatter your very being reaching the same intense peak.

The familiar ball of pleasure that had been steadily growing within you finally burst, sending shockwaves of pure ecstasy coursing through your veins. You could feel Erik's hot semen spurt inside you, marking you as his. As the intense waves of your climax washed over you, you summoned the last of your strength and ripped the mask off his face, revealing the man beneath.

You had comprehended the profound severity of Erik's disfigurement when he confessed that he had been residing here since his tender youth. Why else would somebody feel so compelled to withdraw from society? You had determined then, with unyielding resolve, to love him irrespective of his appearance. Your conviction remained unwavering as his visage came sharply into view. His eyes, dilated with raw fear, his mouth trembling on the verge of speech, and his hands, once securely encircling you, now trembled and twitched uncontrollably.

A sigh escaped you, a bright smile lighting up your face as you gazed at him dreamily. You leaned in, your hand tenderly cradling the side of his face which had remained disfigured and concealed until this moment. Tears which had been threatening to spill from his eyes now fell freely, and your own followed suit as the realization of parting hit you.

With a gentleness that belied the depth of your feelings, your fingers traced the lines of his marked skin. Your lips had found his in a passionate kiss, the tears that slid silently down your cheeks mingled with his, a silent symbol of the connection of your souls, a joining so profound that words failed to capture its essence.

With reluctance, you pulled away from the warmth of his body, rising slowly from where you were entwined with him. You wiped your tears away. A wince crossed your face as you felt Erik's softening length slip out of you, the sensation of his release dripping out of you, serving as a lingering reminder of the intimacy you had shared.

"Do you not take issue with that you see?" His voice was laced with an unnerving intensity, his eyes never leaving your form as you searched for your scattered garments. You assumed his weird behaviour was due to his feelings about your impending departure.

"Not when it's you," you confessed, a poignant smile pulling tragically at the corner of your lips, laden with unspoken emotions.

It didn't take long for you to find your garments. You fastened the corset around your waist, making sure it properly supported your bosom. Despite pulling the laces tightly, you found that you needed additional help. Each time you tried to tie the laces, the corset loosened.

"Could you lace this up for me, Erik? I'm struggling," you chuckled, turning back round to find that he had already put his underwear back on. "Corsets are tricky things. I often need someone else's help to put it on and take it off."

"You don't need it," he declared, his face a stoic mask, eyes unblinking and filled with unwavering resolve.

You hesitated, uncertain of how to respond or process his words. You thought he might not understand the full purpose of your undergarment. "I can't be amongst with people without wearing my corset. It's indecent. Without it, people could see my breasts," you said.

"And that's precisely why you don't require it," he shot back, his hardened face rigid with confrontation, eyes locked onto you as you blinked, wrestling with the weight of his words. "You aren't going anywhere."

"What? Erik, I have to leave," you leaped towards him, a wave of dread washing over you as he remained unaffected, "My father wields a lot of power and influence, a fact you're well aware of. Search parties will be dispatched and they'll hunt us down."

Erik's laughter echoed ominously around you, his jarring mirth only amplifying your unease, "He will not pose a threat, my dear. Act as though he doesn’t exist."

"How can you be so sure?" You shot back, eyes narrowing into slits as you regarded him with deep-rooted suspicion.

"Because he won't live to witness the week's end, fortunate if he survives the night," he sneered.

You were petrified, frozen in terror. The uncertain veracity of his words hung heavy in the air, but the fury etched in his gaze was unmistakable. It was a chilling declaration that bulldozed your defences, sending frigid lashes of fear snaking through your bloodstream.

“No, no,” you whispered, face twisted in dread.

"You said it yourself!" he yelled, seemingly unaffected by your flinch. You lifted your hands, ready to protect yourself if needed, but you knew that if he truly wanted to hurt you, you had no chance. "He was the one who tried to separate us, to spoil our love! How can I let him manipulate destiny? It's a sin!"

"Sin or not, he is my father!" you retorted, tearing off your corset and swiftly pulling your dress over your head. You let it fall over your figure. "I have to go."

“You forget yourself,” Erik's voice echoed ominously from the shadows, untouched by your retreat. “Was it not you pleading for me to awaken your senses to the touch of a genuine lover? Were you not weeping to me over the wreckage your father's deeds would cause in your life? Does Monsieur Beaumont need to be added to the list? Is that what you desire? I am merely aiding you!”

Trying to block out his taunting, you jammed your underwear down your bodice and clung to your corset like a lifeline. Panic was on the verge of consuming you, your thoughts spiralling out of control, too swift and chaotic to grasp. The realization of your own foolishness hit you like a punch, a bitter and unforgiving truth.

In your hour of fragility, you had sought solace in the one individual you deemed a sanctuary, a cure to your torments. But he, like a concealed predator, exploited your vulnerability, shrouding his true motives to feast upon your innocence and cast you into never ending isolation. The dread lay not in his visage, but in his very being, a monstrous revelation.

“Even if you escape, your father cannot. He has to pay for what he's done,” he hissed, his voice becoming a menacing whisper, fading into the background as you distanced yourself.

You were approaching the familiar boat, stepping carefully over the wooden structure. You untied the rope and with the paddle in hand, you prepared to set off on your journey.

CLINK, SLAM.

You froze.

“Besides the fact that you have no idea where you’d be going around the sewers and passageways and would probably end up fatally mutilated in one of my many traps,” he spoke once more, trailing off as he watched the light leave your eyes, “You don’t know how to open the gate. Unfortunate.”

What had you done?

any feedback is appreciated! sorry it ended there, i started writing this at 12pm and it's now 5:21am the day later. i have not had a break. it had to end.

#phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera musical #poto #erik destler #erik the phantom #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera x reader #musical #poto x reader #smut #angst #erik x reader #erik destler x reader #ramin karimloo #the phantom x reader #phantom x reader #1990 phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera 1990 #2004 phantom of the opera

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mediocre-shark-tales · 2 months ago

Text

Post Maiden-Home Win

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming will be skattered throughout the rest of the story. Please feel free to skip parts you find uncomfortable or to stop reading the rest of the story in general. no harm no foul.

The days between the Texas and Mexican Grands Prix were a whirlwind, but they started with a night I’d never forget. Fresh off my first Formula 1 victory—on home soil, no less—I was swept into a celebration that felt larger than life. Nearly every driver on the grid showed up, save for a few who had family commitments or simply didn’t have the energy for our kind of chaos. Even they made a point to swing by and congratulate me before heading off to their flights or their quieter plans.

For once, the usual rivalries and tensions seemed to melt away. We were just a group of racers, toasting to a milestone that felt as much theirs as it was mine. The party buzzed with laughter, music, and the kind of camaraderie you only find in moments like these. It was as if my win had become a victory for everyone who had ever dared to chase a dream.

The party was everything I imagined a post-win celebration could be—yet so much more. For the first time since I’d joined the grid, the spotlight wasn’t about what I lacked, who I wasn’t, or why I didn’t belong. It was about me—a victor, a competitor, an equal.

The night felt surreal. The other drivers hoisted me onto their shoulders, chanting my name as if I was their hero, not just the lone woman who had somehow clawed her way onto the grid. Lando handed me a drink with a grin, promising that "you'll never forget your first win party," while Franco spun me around in a dance I didn’t know the steps to but couldn’t stop laughing through. Even Max, who was usually stoic, clinked his glass against mine and said, “You deserve it. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

For a few fleeting hours, the endless battle for respect and recognition faded into the background. I wasn’t the woman who had replaced Lance Stroll and had her abilities questioned at every turn. I wasn’t the target of snide remarks, belittling jokes, or the subject of ugly rumors that accused me of everything from sleeping my way into the sport to only being here for the media attention. I wasn’t the outsider fighting for space in a world that had never wanted me.

I was a winner.

But even in the glow of celebration, the shadows lingered. I knew this moment wouldn’t last forever. The headlines tomorrow would still dissect every detail of my performance, and the doubters would still find ways to diminish my success. The whispers wouldn’t stop—about how my team must have favored me, how it was “just luck,” or how the other drivers had “gone easy” on me because of my gender.

Still, as the music pounded and the lights danced across the room, I let myself live in this moment. For once, the people around me weren’t doubting me—they were celebrating with me. I drank it all in: the laughter, the clinking glasses, the genuine congratulations. Even if the road ahead would be just as steep, tonight, I wasn’t just a female driver in a male-dominated sport. Tonight, I was a champion.

Knock, knock, knock.

The pounding on the door echoed like a drumline in my head. I groaned, pulling the pillow over my face, and prayed whoever it was would give up and go away. No such luck.

“Y/N!” Lewis’s voice came through the door, muffled but unmistakable. “We know you’re in there. Open up before I have Charles break the door down.”

“I’m not breaking anything,” Charles protested, his tone light and teasing. “But we will stand here until you let us in.”

I groaned louder, dragging myself out of bed. My head felt like it was splitting in two, and the room spun just from standing. I stumbled to the door and cracked it open, glaring at the two figures on the other side.

Lewis and Charles stood there, both looking annoyingly chipper for people who had been at the same party as me. Lewis held a bag of something greasy-smelling, and Charles waved a bottle of water in one hand and a sports drink in the other.

“Ugh,” I muttered, letting the door swing open wider as I shuffled back toward the couch. “I’m dying. Leave me here to rot.”

Lewis chuckled, stepping inside and setting the bag on the coffee table. “We figured you’d say that. So we brought reinforcements—breakfast and hydration.”

Charles grinned, handing me the water first. “Drink this before Lewis starts lecturing you about recovery.”

I sank onto the couch, sipping the water while Lewis unpacked the bag. The smell of breakfast sandwiches and hash browns hit me, and despite my nausea, my stomach growled.

“See? You’re not that far gone,” Lewis said, passing me a sandwich.

Before I could thank them, another knock came at the door, softer this time.

“Now what?” I grumbled, shuffling back to answer it.

When I opened the door, Lando was leaning against the frame, his hair a mess and his hoodie pulled halfway over his face like it was his armor against the world. Franco stood behind him, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“We heard there was a hangover party,” Lando mumbled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“Did you bring food?” Franco asked, peering around him.

“Not you too,” I said, but there was no bite in my tone.

“You looked worse than me at the party,” Lando quipped, flopping onto the couch next to me. “And that’s saying something.”

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered, taking a bite of the sandwich.

Franco perched on the armrest of the couch, watching me like I was some science experiment. “Do you always look this awful after drinking?”

“Do you always look this awful without drinking?” I shot back, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.

As the boys bickered and passed around the food Lewis had brought, the headache began to fade, replaced by something lighter, warmer.

-time skip-

Later that day, I was shipped off to Mexico City for the next race. The plane ride was uneventful, a mix of peace and monotony as I rode alone. First-class perks and my comfiest headphones helped pass the time, but it didn’t stop the creeping anticipation in my mind.

When I landed, my manager was already waiting, hustling me through the crowded airport. “Let’s get you to the hotel,” she said briskly. “You’ve got a little time to settle in before the meeting.”

I nodded, grateful for the momentary reprieve. By the time we arrived, I was too tired to do much more than toss my suitcase in the corner and collapse onto the bed for a quick nap. The quiet was short-lived, though, as the "big post-win meeting" loomed closer. Apparently, with Fernando and me both in strong positions for points after years of tough seasons, the team wanted to capitalize on the momentum. They saw this as an opportunity—not just to boost morale but to prepare us for the new pressure we’d be carrying on our shoulders.

When I finally walked into the makeshift meeting space, the buzz of conversation among the team greeted me. I scanned the room, offering small nods and smiles to familiar faces. But one gaze stopped me cold.

I clocked him instantly. The same guy from last weekend. His presence was a scar in my memory—a faded yet sharp reminder of a strange encounter I hadn’t quite shaken. His eyes locked on me, unrelenting and piercing, like he was trying to peel away every layer of my being. It wasn’t just uncomfortable; it was invasive, like he was searching for something I hadn’t consented to share.

I busied myself with casual chatter among the team, doing my best to avoid his line of sight. But he didn’t seem to take the hint. His questions started out innocuous enough but quickly grew more probing, each one designed to worm his way past my walls.

“So, Y/N,” he said, leaning just a bit too close, his voice smooth but loaded with something darker, “what’s it like carrying the hopes of an entire country on your shoulders? I imagine it’s… intoxicating.”

I forced a polite smile. “It’s a lot of responsibility, but I try to focus on the team effort. We all contribute to the success.”

He chuckled, as if my answer amused him. “Modest. But we both know you’re more than just another driver.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. My grip tightened on the water bottle in my hand as I tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground, cracking a joke with one of the engineers standing nearby.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Fernando watching the exchange, his sharp gaze flicking between me and the guy—Henry, as he finally introduced himself. Fernando’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching just slightly. He seemed to sense my discomfort, his focus narrowing in on Henry’s posture, which was all demanding presence and misplaced confidence.

Before Fernando could step in, the door swung open, and our team principal, Mike, strode in with a clipboard. The room quieted instantly as he called everyone to order.

I exhaled a small breath of relief, grateful for the interruption. Henry finally stepped back, though I could feel his eyes lingering on me as the meeting began. My focus stayed firmly on Mike, but my skin crawled with the residual unease of Henry’s attention.

Whatever the team wanted to prepare us for, it seemed I’d have to brace myself for more than just the pressure of the championship fight.

As the meeting progressed, Mike laid out the agenda with his usual no-nonsense tone. He congratulated Fernando and me on our recent performances, his words tinged with that managerial mix of pride and urgency.

“We’re in a great position,” he began, “but we need to push harder. Especially with the Constructor’s Championship still within reach. To that end, there’ll be some changes to help maximize efficiency and improve collaboration across both sides of the garage.”

I shifted in my chair, already sensing where this was headed.

“Y/N,” Mike said, his gaze landing on me. “You’ve done exceptionally well under the circumstances, but as the newest driver, there’s still room for growth—both in understanding the car and in working more seamlessly with the engineering team.”

I nodded, doing my best to look composed. “Of course. Whatever helps the team.”

“Good,” he replied. “You’ll be spending more time with Henry and his team the rest of this season. They’ll walk you through the car’s nuances, collect your feedback, and ensure we’re all on the same page moving forward.”

Outwardly, I kept my expression neutral, but internally, I winced. Of course he would be leading this. I stole a glance at Henry, who sat across the room with that same infuriatingly smug posture. He gave me a small, knowing smile that only made my stomach twist.

“As for you, Fernando,” Mike continued, turning his attention to my teammate, “your side of the garage will be following a similar approach, though with less urgency. You’ve proven time and again that you understand the car and the team’s dynamics. But we’ll still use this as an opportunity to fine-tune.”

Fernando gave a slight nod, his face unreadable. I caught his eye for a brief second, and there was a flicker of something there—concern, maybe.

The meeting wrapped up with the usual reminders about strategy sessions and media commitments, but I barely heard any of it. My mind was stuck on the looming task of spending more time with Henry. I didn’t doubt his skills as an engineer—he’d been with the team long before I arrived, and his reputation for precision was well-known. But his unnerving presence made the thought of working closely with him almost unbearable.

As we filed out of the room, Fernando caught up to me, his hand brushing lightly against my arm. “You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.

I hesitated, glancing around to make sure Henry wasn’t within earshot. “I will be,” I said, offering a small, forced smile.

Fernando frowned but didn’t press further. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his tone soft but firm. “If he gives you trouble, you tell me. Understood?”

I nodded, the weight of his words grounding me for a moment. “Thanks, Fernando.”

He gave a small nod before stepping away to join his side of the garage.

I took a deep breath and turned toward Henry, who was waiting near the door, his hands in his pockets and that same unreadable look in his eyes. “Shall we?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to nod. “Lead the way.”

This was going to suck.

-time skip-

The next day was grueling. Henry and two other engineers, Mark and Tom, had me stationed in one of the team’s garages, walking me through nearly every detail about the car ahead of the Mexican GP. Aero dynamics, brake wear, tire degradation on the high-altitude track—it felt like I was cramming for an exam I hadn’t studied for.

Mark and Tom were professional, efficient, and clear in their explanations. They answered my questions patiently, sometimes even offering diagrams to make things easier to grasp. But Henry... Henry was a different story.

“So, Y/N,” Henry drawled at one point, leaning casually against the workbench as if we weren’t on a tight schedule, “do you ever worry you’ll... break a nail handling the wheel? Or does the team have a special manicure budget for you?”

I froze, gripping the edge of the table to keep my temper in check. Mark coughed awkwardly, glancing between us, while Tom cleared his throat.

“Henry,” Tom said carefully, “let’s stay on topic. We’ve got a lot to cover.”

Henry waved him off with a smirk. “Relax, Tom. Just trying to lighten the mood. Y/N can handle a joke, can’t you?”

I forced a tight smile, biting back the sharp retort burning in my throat. “Let’s focus on the car, shall we? There’s plenty I still need to learn.”

For a moment, I thought that might shut him up, but Henry only leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You know, you’d learn a lot faster if you weren’t so tense. I could help you... unwind, if you’d like.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. “Henry—”

“Let it go, Mark,” Henry snapped, straightening up and glaring at him. “I’m in charge here. Maybe focus on your job instead of babysitting.”

The tension in the room was suffocating, but I forced myself to keep going. I nodded along as Mark and Tom did their best to continue the session, subtly redirecting the focus back to the technical aspects of the car.

By the time we wrapped up, my head was pounding—not just from the overload of information, but from the constant strain of dealing with Henry’s veiled jabs and innuendos.

Back at the hotel, I trudged into the lobby, my mood dark and my patience worn thin. As I passed through, a burst of laughter caught my attention. I glanced over to see a small group of drivers lounging in one of the seating areas, looking relaxed and carefree.

Charles spotted me first, his smile warm and genuine as he waved me over. “Y/N! Come join us.”

I hesitated, torn between my sour mood and the temptation of their easy camaraderie. Lando, sprawled across one of the couches, noticed my hesitation and grinned. “You look like you’ve had the longest day in history. We’ve got snacks and bad TV—instant cure for whatever’s bothering you.”

Franco leaned against the armrest, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “And if that doesn’t work, I hear Lando’s jokes are so bad they’ll make you laugh out of pity.”

Despite myself, a small smile tugged at my lips. “That sounds... tempting,” I admitted, stepping closer.

Charles patted the empty seat next to him. “Come on. You seem like you need this more than we do.”

As I sank into the seat, the weight of the day began to lift. Their laughter, their lighthearted banter—it was a reminder that I wasn’t entirely alone in this world, even if some days it felt like it.

For the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe.

#x reader #driver!reader #f1 #f1 angst #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #oscar piastri #lando norris #franco colapinto #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz #george russell #grill the grid #f1 grid x reader

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p0orbaby · 1 year ago

Text

Fun Sponge

summary: the beach isn’t for everyone, Ella!

warnings: none I don’t think

a/n: some more grumpy!reader for you all. i’m just writing myself at this point

word count: 882

“You’re so weird”

“Thank you”

“That wasn’t meant as a compliment,” Ella clarifies, then sighs as Alessia turns and narrows her eyes at her.

“What?” Ella asks. “She’s the only person I know who doesn’t like going on holiday”

“I do like holidays, I’m just confused about why you have to crash ours,” you said, a barely there smile playing on your lips. You tightened your arms around Alessia’s frame as she sits sideways in your lap. “Why did we bring her again?” you whisper to her, your lips grazing her ear. You feel her shiver.

Alessia chuckled softly, her fingers tracing circles on the back of your neck. “Baby, we’re with the whole team, remember?” she whispers back with a smirk.

“Yeah, but they’re all way less annoying,” you muttered, your attention focused again on the brunette sitting beside you.

“I can hear you, you know?”

“Good, you were meant to”

“Babe, calm down”

Alessia is good like that. Always there to make sure you don’t get too ahead of yourself. Though sometimes you wish she’d let you have at it. Tooney can be a collosol pain in your ass.

“Less, tell your girlfriend to stop being boring”

“I’m not going scuba diving Ella. I’m very partial to solid ground and I will not entertain sharing my personal space with rogue sea life” You deadpan.

Ella rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You’re impossible. What’s the point of a beach holiday if you don’t even put one toe in the sea?”

“Oh I don’t know. To enjoy the sun, rinse the all-inclusive cocktails, hope and pray for peace and quiet, ogle Alessia in her bikini. Lots of points” you state matter of factly.

She shot back, “But it’s a beach! You’re supposed to enjoy the whole package, not just mope in the shade”

You wrap your arms around Alessia even tighter and bury your face into her neck. Your opinion on the matter set firmly in stone.

As you nestle into your girlfriend's warmth, Ella’s exasperation lingers in the air. She huffs, “Fine, enjoy your smoked pineapple margs, alone. We’ll be over there making sandcastles or something before our diving slot if you change your mind. Coming Less?”

Alessia hesitates, glancing at you sceptically before untangling herself from your embrace.

Your head snaps up, the look on your face one of utter betrayal. “Seriously? You’re ditching me for some sea turtles?”

Alessia chuckles, leaning forward to grab the palms you had reached out for her. “I know, I know, but it sounds fun. I’ll make it up to you later. I promise”

Ella grinns, seizing the opportunity. “And balance has been restored. Look after our stuff yeah?”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, I’ll be here, guarding the sunscreen like it’s the only thing I’m useful for”

Alessia pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, then several to your lips, “I’ll be back before you know it. I miss you already” she shouts as she walks away.

“Glorified bodyguard” you mutter to yourself as the two girls stride into the distance.

At least you get to read some of your book in relative peace.

You have no idea how much time has passed, but suddenly a shock of cold water splashes over you, jolting you awake with an uncharacteristic yelp.

You lift a tired hand in front of your face to block the sun from your eyes, only to find Ella standing over you, grinning mischievously.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! You missed out big time, but don't worry, I'm here to fill you in”. She announces, then proceeds to recount the whole thing with an overwhelming level of detail.

Alessia, expertly anticipating your annoyance plops down beside you and whispers an apology, offering a comforting kiss to the underside of your jaw. Her warmth soothes your initial irritation as Ella continues her painfully enthusiastic monologue.

"And then, this giant sea turtle swam right past me. I swear, it felt like a scene from a documentary, but we were actually living it!"

You manage a half-smile, your mind wandering as you try to savor the last moments of your nap.

"Oh, and the coral reefs! They were like a living, breathing masterpiece. I could've stayed down there forever”

Alessia nudges you, a hand coming up to stroke some hair out of your face to get your attention. Your eyes meet hers and she rolls them playfully.

"I even saw a clownfish! You know, like Nemo? It was adorable!"

You nod absentmindedly, your thoughts more focused on your girlfriend as she leans over you to finish the rest of your abandoned margarita than Ella’s rambling. She smells like sunscreen and seawater and you can’t help but relax a little.

Eventually Ella stops and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in. Finally she’s run out of steam.

“You know what? That actually sounds super fun” you say, and Ella looks at you like a cat who’s got the cream.

“You think?”

“Absolutely fucking not”

She shoots back, offended “You’re impossible. Did you even hear anything I said?”

You wave a dismissive hand in her direction, “Something about sea turtles and coral reefs, right?”

“Oh my god, I hate you. I actually hate you so much”

“Can I get that in writing?”

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

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reginaphalangelobster125 · 2 months ago

Text

Do You Still Love Me?

10th Doctor x Reader - 11th Doctor x Reader

Summary: Life with The Doctor is constantly changing.

Warnings: fluff then angst then angst then fluff

Word Count: 2,615

You had been travelling with The Doctor for quite some time now and you absolutely loved it. You absolutely loved him. You'd see his companions come and go, most of them seemed to fall in love with him in some sense, and it was always your biggest fear. Your biggest fear was The Doctor asking you to leave. You couldn't do it.

After you left Donna back on earth with no memories of the TARDIS, you, or The Doctor, you were terrified. You were terrified that not only The Doctor would leave you but that he'd make you forget the amazing things he has shown you, that he'd make you forget him. You couldn't contain your feelings any longer, that night you sat in your room and cried. You felt stupid just sitting there and crying but you couldn't hold it in anymore.

The Doctor wanted to check on you so he walked up to your door and just as he was about to open it, the sound of your cries stopped him. He didn't want to upset you any further and he remembered that talk you had with him about knocking so he decided to try it. He raised his hand and knocked on the door three times in rapid succession. The sound jolted you and you quickly got up and tried to clean yourself up a bit before you responded.

"Yes, Doctor?" you tried to make your voice sound as calm as possible.

"A-Are you alright? I know you were close"

"You were close too"

Silence fell on the conversation for a few moments before The Doctor spoke again.

"Can I come in?"

"Do-do you have to?"

"No" he sighed, not wanting to say what he was about to "If you want to go I understand"

"Do you want me to?"

"I-it's your choice"

You could hear the sadness and pain in his voice. You flung the door open and looked up into his eyes.

"Doctor, being here in the TARDIS, being with you, all of this, has been the best years of my life. I don't want to leave but if you want me to, I will"

The Doctor wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body tight against his.

"I don't want you to go"

Standing there in his embrace, you knew you had to say something. You knew it would probably ruin everything and he'd have to take you back to Earth and leave you forever but you could keep pushing your feelings down.

"Doctor, I'm sorry, this is incredibly selfish and I wish I didn't but I have to tell you the truth. I love you, I have for a long time now and I know you don't-"

You were cut off by the feeling of his lips pressed against yours in a beautiful, passionate kiss. The kind of kiss you had seen in movies and read about in books but never thought was real. The kind of kiss that made you melt into his arms and pray you never had to break it. But you did, you couldn't breathe so you had to pull away.

You rested your foreheads against each other as you panted, trying to catch your breath.

"I love you too"

If you thought travelling with The Doctor before was amazing you were completely shocked to see how much more it all was when you were dating him. He took you to some of the most romantic places you could've imagined. On your 1 year anniversary he took you to see Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole and Elvis all in the same night. After the concerts you went to a wonderful party in the 20s where for the first time in a long time, The Doctor danced. You had a delicious dinner in a French restaurant a few centuries ahead of your own time and to finish the night off perfectly The Doctor gave you a necklace. It was a small star pendant hung on a beautiful gold chain.

He placed it around your neck and fixed the clasp in the back "That, my love, is made of the stardust from the last star in the universe"

"Doctor, tonight has been one of the best nights of my life, thank you"

"I thought the concerts would be a big hit" he said with a soft smile.

"The concerts were amazing but that's not the reason. You are. This is one of the best nights of my life because I've gotten to spend the past year with you"

He leaned down and captured your lips in the perfect kiss, making both of you feel completely content with each other.

The Doctor knew what was coming. He didn't want to leave you but he had to, he had no choice. He took you to a beautiful planet, filled with waterfalls and strange little birds that sang the most beautiful songs. He wanted your last memory together to be one you could look back on fondly. He set up a picnic under the most beautiful waterfall he could find. You opened the doors of the TARDIS and were met with the fresh smell of the waterfalls and the sweet melody of the bird's songs. You walked over to the red and white checked blanket laid across the grass. You sat down and enjoyed the picnic with the man of your dreams. You strolled around the planet, taking in the exquisite scenery, hand in hand with The Doctor. You stood under the biggest waterfall around. You stared into the eyes of your lover and you saw your life with him. You saw the happiness you could have with him.

"I love you, Doctor, with all of my heart"

"I love you too, more than you'll ever know"

Your lips meet in the sweetest kiss you have ever shared, for you it was filled with promise and hope for the future, for The Doctor it was his last desperate attempt to hold onto you for as long as he could.

You made your way back to the TARDIS and turned in for the night. The next morning you woke up to find that The Doctor wasn't beside you, then you realised you weren't in the TARDIS anymore. You were in a hotel room somewhere. You called out for The Doctor but he didn't answer. You ran down the stairs and out the door looking for the TARDIS. You looked around and saw that you were in London sometime around the turn of the century. You stood in the middle of the street and you realised, he had left you there. He had done the one thing you never wanted him to do, he had made your worst nightmare a reality.

You collapsed right there in the street, tears started to gush from your eyes. Just one day earlier you had had one of the best days of your life and now you were alone. You barely gathered yourself together to walk inside, you saw the woman at the receptionist desk and thought she could answer a few questions.

"E-Excuse me, where are we?"

"Sandringham Hotel, London"

"And um, what year is it?"

"2006. Are you okay?"

"No, no I'm really not"

You've had enough, you've had enough misery and you've had enough time to wallow in self pity, you're done. You decide to make your way to Wales, maybe you can get the help you need there.

When you finally get to Cardiff you head for a large reflective tower that you know very well. You walk over to a section of pavement and stand there, waiting.

"Jack, I know you're in there. Let me in" you call out, making you look like a lunatic.

Suddenly the floor beneath you starts to lower and you enter The Hub. You see Jack standing there, you run over and wrap your arms around him.

"Hey, what happened?"

"He's gone, Jack. He just left me at some hotel in London"

"What? He didn't say anything?"

"No, nothing. We had an amazing day, we went back to the TARDIS, then I woke up alone"

"I'm so sorry"

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"That planet filled with those weird dogs with no noses. How long ago was that for you?"

"Over a year"

"Here, this looks like something" Jack said passing you some files "A little girl in Leadworth said she met a man called 'The Doctor" who had a blue police box"

"This is him, Jack. It has to be. When was it?"

"1996"

"She might still be there, what's her name?"

"Amelia Pond"

"I have to go"

"I know, just be safe and when you find The Doctor, slap him"

"Oh don't worry, I will"

You leave almost immediately, grabbing your things on your way out, you get in your car and drive to Leadworth. Once you get there you go to the girl's house and knock on the door. A young woman opens the door and addresses you with a thick Scottish accent.

"Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of The Doctor's and I need to speak with you"

"Come in, quick"

You head up to her room and see all of the TARDIS toys she's made over the years. You pick up a little sculpture of The Doctor.

"This is very good, Amelia"

"It's Amy and be careful with those"

"Of course, Amy. Can you tell me about when you met The Doctor?"

She tells you all about her experience with The Doctor.

"Really? Fish fingers and custard?" you giggle out.

"Yes, it was the only thing he would eat" she joins you in your laughter.

"Thank you for telling me all of this, Amy"

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Not at all, I believe you completely"

"How do you know The Doctor?"

"I used to travel with him"

"Why don't you anymore?"

"He left me"

"Just like he did to me?"

"Yes"

"Why did he leave you?"

"I don't know, that's what I've been trying to find out for the past 2 years"

"You spent 2 years looking for him?" she asked in disbelief.

"Haven't you been waiting for longer?"

"Yes, but I haven't been looking, I have no idea where to look"

"Neither do I really, you are the first solid lead I've got"

"I'm sorry I can't help you"

"You have, you've helped me so much"

"How?"

"Because of you, I know he's okay"

You visited Amy every now and then, but there was never any news from The Doctor. One day you were looking for anything that could be The Doctor or aliens in general and you got a phone call. It was Amy. She briefly told you about what happened with the Atraxi and you immediately drove to Leadworth. You decided to move there, It was the closest place to The Doctor so you thought it would be your best chance at finding him again. You rented a little cottage, just up the road from Amy's house and you settled in nicely.

One night you were out in your garden and you heard that familiar groaning whirr that made your heart skip a beat. You ran down to Amy's but you weren't quick enough. You just got through the gate in time to see the TARDIS de-materialise before your eyes. You were devastated, you'd spent 4 years looking for him and you were 7 seconds too late.

Amy's aunt saw you standing in the middle of her yard and called out to you. You went in the house with her and gave her a reasonable explanation as to why Amy was gone and why you were in her yard in the middle of the night. While you were talking to her you heard the TARDIS again. You ran out the door but it was nowhere to be seen then you realised, it had to be in her room. You dashed up the stairs and up to her room. You were suddenly extremely nervous, The Doctor left you for a reason, surely he doesn't want to see you. You stood in the hallway, working up the courage to face him. You turned, about to walk through the door and then you saw. You saw Amy and The Doctor kissing. Even though he had a different face you still felt like someone ripped your heart out when you saw the only man you ever loved kissing someone else. You ran down the stairs with tears in your eyes, wanting to forget the entire evening. Before you could walk out the door you heard Amy call your name.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard the TARDIS and came running, but I'll leave. You don't need to worry about me"

"But The Doctor's here! This is what you've wanted for 4 years"

"It looked like I'm not what The Doctor wants anymore. I was stupid to search for him in the first place, he left me and I should have just accepted that. I should have just accepted the fact that The Doctor never wants to see me again"

"That's not true" you turned around to see him standing behind you.

"Doctor?" you looked up at him as a few years fell down your cheeks.

"It's me, love"

'Don't call me that"

"Wh-Ow!" he yelped, feeling the palm of your hand collide with his face with heavy force. Amy jumped a little, shocked by your actions. From what you had said to her she thought your reunion with The Doctor would be much different.

"You slapped me!"

"You left me!"

"I didn't want to"

"Then why did you?"

"I didn't want to watch you leave"

"I wasn't going to leave"

"You would've, when you saw what I had to do and when you saw me"

"You mean your regeneration? Do you really think that little of me?"

"I-I didn't know-"

"Exactly! You didn't know. Doctor, I would have loved you if you had regenerated into a Slitheen, I don't care what you look like, I only care about who you are"

"You don't understand. When I regenerate I change my face but I also change my personality. I'm not the same man you loved"

"You change aspects. You still save the Earth from alien invasions and you still care. You're still you, you're just a different version of you and if you had given me the chance I would have fallen in love with you all over again"

"You would?"

"Yes. But I understand that you don't want me anymore so I'll just go"

"What do you mean? I'd never not want you"

"What about Amy?"

"I don't love her"

"But what about what I saw upstairs?"

"You saw Amy kissing me?"

"Yes"

"Did you see what I did next?"

"No, I couldn't stand there any longer"

"Well if you had you would have seen me tell her that I'm not interested in her"

"You're not?"

"No! Of course not"

You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him as tightly as you can and he squeezes you back tighter.

"How long has it been for you?" you ask, still not breaking contact.

"A long time. How long has it been for you?"

"4 years"

"You kept looking for me for 4 years?"

"I loved you, I couldn't just forget you"

"You keep saying that word, 'loved' do you still love me?

"My dear, sweet Doctor, I could never not love you. You are my everything and I love you now just as much as I did 4 years ago. Do you still love me?"

"I never stopped loving you, not for a second"

Tags:

@codex-arcene

@skarkkie

@annie-does-art

@colorfulmusicgardener

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killa-cookie · 2 months ago

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Okay so uhm can you pretty please please make a fanfiction about Espresso cookie and temperance reader like reader wants to saved their beloved normal cookie so they find a way they sacrificed themselves to Mystic flour in exchange for everyone to be back on their cookie and not become a flour we sacrificed ourselves and got corrupted instead of course we said our final goodbye to our beloved Espresso

goodness how much times have you gave me ideas for fics, I've just been feeding off your requests tbh HELPP

SACRIFICE

Anngsysty

You watched as he dissolved before your eyes, fading into nothingness, turning back into the flour from which he was born. Your love, your everything, crumbled before you, disintegrating in the cruel, unfeeling wind.

Espresso’s voice echoed faintly, his final words dripping with bitterness: “Apathy”... “A perfect world.” You caught the fleeting glance he spared you, a mixture of sorrow and resignation, before he vanished entirely.

And it was her. All of this—every ounce of your anguish—was because of her. Mystic Flour Cookie. Once a comrade, but no longer. She was a beast, a creature like everyone else. Yet you knew she wouldn’t let go of her grand apathy plans so easily.

You had no choice. No other path lay before you. You had to give yourself to her.

The Ivory Pagoda loomed ahead, an imposing structure bathed in a cold, lifeless light. It had taken an eternity to reach this place, but here it was, your end. The gates swung open at your approach. Cloud Haetea, guardian of this wretched place, didn’t so much as lift a finger to stop you. Perhaps it was your expression—a gaze so menacing, so filled with rage—that held them back.

You burst through the grand doors, their ancient wood groaning under your force. Mystic Flour sat at the center, her silhouette bathed in the ethereal glow of the pagoda’s light. She was meditating, but her eyes opened as you entered. Calm yet piercing, her gaze met yours.

“...Temperance?” she murmured, her voice betraying her surprise.

When you traveled with Dark Cacao, she had suspected something about you, but here, in this place where foresight ruled supreme, she hadn’t foreseen this—a raw, unguarded confrontation.

“Stop your plans at once, Mystic Flour,” you demanded, your voice trembling with defiance.

Her expression darkened. Her eyes, once pools of serene wisdom, turned black as night, unrelenting in their scrutiny of you.

“This... This is unusual for you,” she mused, her tone soft but layered with menace. “Why are you interfering with my plans, Temperance?”

Her voice was alluring, yet it chilled you to your core.

"Your plans are too hostile, mystic flour—

“Hostile?” she replied, your words cutting through the still air. “I would say... the opposite.”

“This conversation has ended—”

“WAIT!”

Your cry rang out, desperate and unyielding. The silence that followed was deafening. Mystic Flour rose, her movements graceful yet deliberate. She approached you, her gaze intent, unreadable.

“...I have an offer,” you whispered, the weight of your words crushing you.

Her brows arched slightly, curiosity flickering across her face. “And what, pray tell, do you have to offer me?”

You swallowed hard, your voice breaking as you spoke. “I offer you everything. My devotion, my soul—everything I am. Just... stop your plans. Return the world to what it was. Please.” Tears streaked your face as you fell to your knees. You knew you’d never see Espresso again. But if sacrificing yourself meant he could live, you would do it without hesitation.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, Mystic Flour spoke, her tone cold but resolute.

“...Very well. But do not mourn when I turn you into a beast such as myself.”

With a single, sweeping motion of her hand, life began to bloom once more. The world stirred from its apathy, the souls she had consumed were restored, and hope began to creep back into the corners of existence.

The gates of the Ivory Pagoda slammed shut behind you, sealing you away for eternity. No one would ever see you again.

Espresso Cookie’s POV:

“W-what?! Where am I?” I stumbled to my feet, disoriented. The last thing I remembered was a haze—a comforting, endless white. And then... them. My love. They were staring at me, horrified.

But now... they were gone.

Frantically, I ran through the house, checking every room, every corner, every shadow. No sign of them. Not a trace. Not even their scent lingered.

“Where are you?” I whispered, my voice cracking.

I stumbled into our shared bedroom, my heart pounding as I searched. And there, lying on the bed, was their veil—the one they wore so often, shielding their face from the world. Sometimes, if I was lucky, they would remove it, letting me see the softness beneath.

I clutched the veil to my chest as tears streamed down my face. Hours passed, each more agonizing than the last. I searched everywhere, called out their name until my voice was hoarse. And yet... nothing. They were gone.

I put up posters, plastering the town with their image. I begged anyone I came across. Days turned to weeks, and hope began to slip through my fingers like grains of sand.

Late one night, I sat in the darkness of our empty home, the veil still clutched in my trembling hands.

“They’ll come back,” I murmured, my voice trembling. “They’ll come back. They have to come back.”

But as the silence stretched on, the weight of their absence pressed down on me, suffocating.

“They’ll come back… right?”

The words hung in the air, fragile as glass, before shattering into sobs.

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literaticat · 2 years ago

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I'm at my wit's end. I've spent a decade trying to break through - 10 years with 5 novels coming super close with a variety of big publishers, who rave about my writing, ideas, etc. Feedback has been mostly positive. One even rejected saying "I don't know why we're rejecting this, it's EXACTLY what we're looking for and ticks all our boxes, but we feel compelled to reject it anyway." Is there just a "Do Not Publish" sign on my head? How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

(OP continues...) "Sorry about the rant, Jenn, and I know there's not much you can say as you don't know my specific situation. But it's just maddening. 10+ years of my life! I know everyone faces rejection, but I seem to mostly get positive feedback and so many "close calls" of almost getting a deal - a lot of interest, but then it just peters out. That "compelled to reject anyway" just made me start feeling like I'm just fated to never be published, no matter what? I'm unagented now, starting from scratch..."

OK first of all -- that rejection, if that is literally what they said, is utterly insane. I have to presume (HOPE? PRAY?) that you are paraphrasing, that that is what it *felt* like to you, but that's not LITERALLY what they said??? Because there are certainly things where, on the surface, yes, this is what a publisher is looking for and it "ticks the boxes", but ultimately, it doesn't have that X-factor, je ne sais quois, or whatever -- so I can see a publisher saying something like, "while the writing is admirable and the premise is interesting, ultimately, we weren't compelled enough to make an offer for publication" -- which is ALMOST what you said, but there's a key difference that makes it actually normal and not insane. Because in YOUR version, it sounds like they are under an imperius curse or something, where they don't know what they are doing or why they are doing it, they just have to do it, even though it is against what WOULD be their better judgment if they weren't cursed. And... it's wild to think that a publisher would make a statement like that. (Maybe they were having a very OFF DAY???) -- BUT ANYWAY, on to the crux of your question/rant:

I understand your frustration. If it makes you feel any better (??), you're not alone. I know many -- MANY -- MANY career authors, who spent 10 years honing their craft, trying and failing, getting rejections, getting close-but-no-cigars, etc. I was chatting with a wise (and now famous) author I know, who spent 10 years or so in the query/wrong-agent/rejection/close-call trenches. She told me a theory that I feel pretty sure is right, though I don't have proof per se, it does track with my observations. She said:

Just about everyone who sticks with writing or the arts in general as a career has about a ten-year rough patch. That doesn't mean it takes everyone ten years to get published! (Though it does take LOTS of people 10+ years) -- Some lucky people get their break a lot sooner than that. BUT. Everyone has to pay the piper that ten year fee, either all at once, or in installments. So let's say you sell your book right away and start raking in the accolades etc -- fab! Just know that nobody stays popular and beloved forever, and at some point, the ten year slump is coming for you. Aren't you lucky that you're getting yours out of the way now?

OK, if that didn't work for you, how about this:

How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

You know you don't have to, right?

Like, if writing and seeking traditional publication is making you miserable -- you can stop. In fact, stopping may be a great idea.

I say this not to be discouraging, but rather, encouraging, actually. I encourage you to give yourself permission to prioritize your own mental and emotional well-being.

If you realize you miss writing and can't live without it -- go back to it! But maybe instead of having "publication" as your goal, your goal can be writing for the pure joy of it, without worrying about future queries or would-be agents or anyone else's expectations. What freedom! Embrace that!

Then when you do have a brand-new shiny manuscript, you can decide your next steps. Maybe it's trying again for traditional publishing, and this is the turn around the track that changes everything. (It should be close, if the 10 year theory is correct!)

OR, maybe it's self-publishing. (Lots of people have a lot of success there -- maybe you're one of them!) --

OR, maybe it's just chilling out and writing some more for your own pleasure -- creating art for the sake of creating it, for fun, for self-fulfillment, etc. Like, you know, a normal hobby, that nobody is expecting you to monetize or make into a "gig".

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sometimesthingsgowrongokayy · 4 months ago

Text

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

That’s the last straw

lee!daisuke - ler!anya

some swearing, and also i have literally no idea how boardgames work, but dw about that its fiiine

this is a tickle fic, don’t like don’t read. also please dont harass me for mouthwashposting

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

That’s it. That’s the last fucking straw.

Anya is seething in her chair as she watches Daisuke roll a 6 and clear right through her, picking up his piece and smiling smugly as he glides it along the board, landing right on a skip-ahead space and jumping about twenty spaces forward.

He gives a little giggle. “Sooo, Anya, what’s your move?” He says, smugly as he leans against the back of the couch.

She’s never going to look at Candy Kingdom the same again. Her eye gives a twitch as she prays to everything she’s ever believed in- please, a six, please. Please. Please.

She rolls a three and lands on a penalty square.

Daisuke, sitting across from her, gives a tiny muffled snort. Her rage is amplified tenfold, glaring up at him with the might of a thousand suns. Oh, the things she’s going to do to this man.

Curly clears his throat, placing a gentle hand on Anya’s shoulder- she flinches at the contact, eyes snapping to him and forgetting to drop the glare. Now he’s the one to flinch, eyes flickering away as he pulls his hand back.

“Ahm.. Anya, do you- think we should take a break..? You seem to be getting a little.. Frustrated.” He says, smiling sheepishly as his eyes drift around the table. Her cards are much more scattered than his or even Daisuke’s, her usual clean organization thrown to the bin and replaced by her newfound mania.

Anya flashes a smile, cracking her fingers before responding. “Oh, no. Don’t mind me at all. This is fun! Crew bonding is always great for morale.”

Her tone isn’t quite as soft as it usually is, a hint of boiling rage laced into the undertones. She sits as polite as ever, eyes trained on Curly. He gives a gulp, but nods, playing along for the sake of his life. He’s anxious as his turn follows, and he rolls a meager four. Good. This is good.

Anya’s eyes fall on Daisuke, hands politely laid in her lap as her eyes bare into his very soul. He’s looking a little more anxious now, spinning the rings on his fingers as he realizes its his turn and hastily throws the dice. Another six.

Silence falls over the table as Anya takes a long breath, cutting through the air. She twitches again as Daisuke lets out another muffled snicker. He’s practically having to hold a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

Her brow quirks up in a challenge, watching as the boy’s mouth wobbles and wavers into a smile, the chilling silence starting to weigh on him. It’s too funny. Plus the glare he’s getting from Anya- so rare, for her- isn’t exactly helping.

He can’t help himself, letting out a high-pitched giggle before clamping his mouth shut, just staring at Anya, eyes wide with curiosity and a bit of terror. Curly’s gaze flashes between the two, giving a gulp, and that’s what breaks the dam.

Daisuke falls into cackles, keeling forwards as he laughs, shoulders bouncing along. Curly has to suppress his own snicker- Daisuke’s laugh is rather contagious.

Anya takes a harsh breath, eye twitching once more as she watches Daisuke curled up in his own mirth. This little shit. She slowly stands up, glaring as she towers over the scene, and Daisuke’s laughter stops in its tracks as he realizes his impending doom.

Anya’s eyes fix right on the boy, and he gives a gulp as she just stares for what feels like an eternity.

“Y’know, Daisuke..” Her words cut through the air like a knife as she sits down next to him, with the danger of a mother quietly sitting down next to a troublemaking child.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but it’s very impolite to laugh at someone when they’re struggling with something.” She says, and within a blink, Daisuke screeches out as Anya’s long nails suddenly latch to his sides and squeeze.

“Anya- anyaanyaanya- please, we cahan- we can talk about this!” Daisuke pleads, as Anya looms over him, hands poised against his sides. She gives a soft snicker in response, and without warning, drills into the boy’s sides- her nails digging into the soft meat and vibrating, pulling a loud guffaw from Daisuke before he falls into desperate, pitchy laughter.

“ANYA- nonOnah- NOHO- pleaseplease ihidiDN’t meanit i didn’tmeanit-“ He begs, words breaking and cracking between squeals and snorts, thrashing up against her hands which have now found his hips and are squeezing mercilessly.

“Curly, it’s your turn. Oh, and- move Daisuke’s piece for him, would you?” Anya says, completely ignoring Daisuke’s pleas. She throws a polite smile to Curly, even as her hands skitter up to Daisuke’s ribs. He gives a squeal in response, kicking out from under her and bucking desperately.

Curly blinks, a bit dumbfounded, before clearing his throat and doing as commanded. He quickly moves Daisuke’s piece six spots forwards before rolling the dice and landing a nice passive three. He gulps as he moves his piece.

“ANyahAHAH- ple- pleHEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASPLESPLSPL- PLEHEAASE- letmegoletmEGOpLEASEIT’sSOBAD-“ Daisuke spews, words jumbling together as he laughs. Anya snickers before drilling her hands into his hips once more, wrenching a high-pitched squeal from the boy. She speaks up once more.

“Oh, dear. Guess it’s my turn- Curly, be a dear and roll for me?” She says, nimble fingers not once stopping her quest in ripping Daisuke apart.

Curly silently complies in horror as he watches the scene, mindlessly moving Anya’s piece forwards and flinching as Daisuke gives another scream.

His mouth hangs open in a cackling grin, tears of mirth stinging his eyes as he bucks and squirms and turns this way and that, to no avail. Anya is shockingly strong, staying atop the poor boy as he thrashes and tries to desperately pry her off of himself.

He eventually gives up on trying to free himself, fist slamming against the couch cushions as Anya’s fingers slip into the spaces between his ribs, wiggling around and squeezing and doing other torturous things that really shouldn’t tickle as much as they do.

“AnnyaaAAHAHAH- PLEASE- pleheHEASEplease-“ He yelps, slowly losing energy as she just Does Not Let Up, giving a giggly whimper as her hands poke at his sides again.

“..Anya, um- I think he needs a break..” Curly speaks up through the cackles and squeaks, concerned as he can hear Daisuke’s breath beginning to shallow. Anya gives a dramatic sigh and removes her hands, met by a large gasp from Daisuke as he flops limply against the couch, eyes glossed over as he twitches- still vaguely processing All That.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll let this be a lesson- I always win at boardgames. Now, Daisuke, it’s your turn-“ Her tone gains a malicious lilt with her next words, “-Why don’t you roll?”

Daisuke gives a weak whimper, still unable to curl up fully as Anya sits on his legs. He hugs his midsection and gives a small huffy giggle, mouth still pulled up at the corners. “Nnoohohooo..” He whines, hiccuping as he lays. He knows what his fate will be if he rolls good, and with his luck tonight? He’s absolutely terrified.

“Go on. Roll.” Anya says, softly for once, as she gives an encouraging poke to the boy’s side. He gives a squeaky giggle, whining as he reaches out for the dice and lets it tumble out of his hand, landing on the table and landing him a death sentence. He had rolled his third six in a row.

He gives a fearful whimper, eyes drifting up to Anya. The glare he met was one of nightmares, and he quickly reaches out to nudge the die- landing on a four, instead. He anxiously looks back up to Anya, sighing as he sees her nod. “Good choice. Anyways, Curly?” She says, finally getting up off Daisuke and walking back to her seat.

Daisuke immediately curls into a ball, huffing as he turns away from the table and buries his face in the cushions of the couch, twitching and hiccuping as he hugs his midriff. His body has a soft shake to it, weakened by the Attack.

“Oh, um- right, yes.” Curly stammers out, picking up the dice and rolling a five, cursing himself as he lands on a penalty square. Anya smiles and plucks the dice from the board, rolling and grinning as she lands the six that carries her onto the finishing square.

“Well then! Looks like I win.” She says, sighing and smiling triumphantly at the scene infront of her.

Daisuke, curled up on the couch and dead to the world. Curly, still glancing between the two with fear in his eyes. And the board, with Anya’s piece in the winning spot and the other two falling behind via sabotage.

Anya never loses a game of Candy Kingdom again.

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

BONUS SCENE THAT I CUT FROM THE MAIN FIC BUT I STILL THINK YALL SHOULD BE ABLE TO ENJOY:

Anya’s hands still don’t stop their ruthless quest, latching onto his upper thighs and mercilessly squeezing. Daisuke practically screams, legs thrashing as he again attempts to thrash out of her grip, twisting this way and that to no avail.

His words are lost to laughter as she continues, silently and deadly plucking him apart. It’s when she reaches his knees he gets desperate. One squeeze and he convulses, legs snapping upward in a ear-piercing squeal and a guffaw. She blinks, hands still poised above his knees.

“A-Anya, ahanya please, pleasedon’tdothis, I’ll do anything- plehease-“ The begs sputter past Daisuke’s lips with an accompaniment of giggles, hands tugging at his own hair as they had found their place there a few moments ago. He gives another high giggle as he fidgets, legs shaking and twitching as he squirms, eyes locked with Anya’s, already knowing his fate.

Then she grins, eyes narrowing devilishly, and Daisuke passes away on the spot. She gives a ruthless sequence of squeezes to that little spot right above his knees, latched on and not letting go even as he kicks and thrashes and screams. He howls, back arching from the couch and slamming back down as his fist desperately pounds against the cushions.

This continues, evilly, for about five more torturous seconds before Curly speaks up, torn out of his shocked daze at the snort that rips through the air. “Anya- Anya, I think he’s had enough.” He coughs, guiding her off of the poor boy and back to her chair.

She growls, still seething as she watches Daisuke immediately curl up on himself, letting out a pathetic whimper as he hugs his midsection. He’s still giggling weakly, face buried in his knees as he lays horizontal on the couch, rasping for air after the attack.

Okay, she feels a little better now that he’s been thoroughly wrecked. The table falls into another long silence, only interrupted by Daisuke’s weak panting and soft, quiet giggles. Anya smiles, satisfied, as Curly looks at her with a mildly horrified expression.

“Okay, I think that’s enough Candy Kingdom for one day.. D-Daisuke, why don’t you, uh- head to your quarters and.. Clean up a bit? I’ll take care of the- game.” Curly says even as he knows Daisuke probably won’t be able to move for another fifteen minutes, clearing his throat sheepishly. He starts gathering pieces into the game box. His eyes fall on Daisuke once more before they flicker to Anya, giving a gulp at the way she’s absolutely drinking up the image of Daisuke crumpled up on the couch with blush up to his ears.

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

OKAY I HOPE YALL ENJOYED THAT i rewrote this like fifteen times before i finally decided i’d just post it as-is. the bonus scene was one that was in the original version but i felt like it was too short and didnt know where to fit it in and askdhehdhdhJsh. i couldn’t deprive yall of it though, lower body ticklish daisuke is literally my lifeblood.

anywayyssssss hope yall have a good dayy <3 idk how to end these <3

#wrongposting #lee!daisuke #ticklish!daisuke #ler!anya #mouthwashing tickles #mouthwashing tickle #mouthwashing tickling #bonus scene included #first tickle fic im actually posting #tickle fic #daisuke gets wrecked- we love to see it #might make a more fluffy sequel where he’s enduring less torture and more soft stuff #or just a mini-sequel where our poor boy actually gets some aftercare and isnt left for dead #sfw tickle fic

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