#snapped!fem!italy

[wandasslut3000]

Are you desperate for me?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, car sex, sub!reader, thigh riding, fingering, sex pollen, breast play, marking, praise, cum play, semi clothed sex, mentions of drug trafficking and death.

WC: 2.24k

               ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You and Wanda are currently in Bari, Italy, on a mission to find locate and arrest a dangerous drug dealer that is rumored to be heading towards London for an important deal.

Your goal is to find his base of operations and destroy his current supply. The suspect in question, Cecil Adams, otherwise known as 'The Count', has been injecting his victims with his test products.

Almost all of them ended up dead within minutes.

"Oh come on."

"It's for the good of the people" Tony said and you rolled your eyes.

"So me and Wanda have to cancel our honeymoon just to find some wack ass Peter Piper? Why can't the police just deal with it?" 

"They've tried, but every officer they sent has come back in a casket. You know we wouldn't have asked you if we didn't need to, but the rest of the team is already assigned elsewhere." Steve informed, crossing his arms and expressing a look of sympathy.

You groaned as you buried your face in your hands in annoyance. Wanda grabbed your hand, stroking the back of it her thumb as an attempt to help you calm down.

"A week in Italy wouldn't really be so bad, just think of it as a last minute change of venue." She whispered and you brought your head up to look at her and her bright green eyes.

"I... alright, fine." You couldn't bring yourself to argue with her, turning back to look back at Tony and Steve.

"You owe us two weeks off after this." Both men nodded in agreement.

Four days into your stay, you and Wanda had found his headquarters, an abandoned wear-house at the edge of the city.

You and your wife are rigging the place to blow. Members of S.H.E.L.D waiting just outside of the property as backup.

Wanda had used her magic to knock out the guards surrounding the area, putting handcuffs onto each of them, and with a snap of her fingers, she'd sent them straight into the secured van.

"You done, baby?" You ask Wanda through your earpiece.

"Everything's all set over here"

"Alright then, just make sure you're safe ok?"

You back away from the building with the remote trigger in your hand, your backpack filled with product in the other, you'd managed to sneak in prior and retrieve some per S.H.E.L.D's instructions.

"I will be detka, are you?"

"I'm safe" You assure her as you take small steps backward and away from the building.

Suddenly you feel a cool piece of metal brace itself against your throat, strong muscular arms wrapping themselves around you.

You sigh, reaching for the man's wrists and throwing him on the ground, the knife in his hand flying into the distance.

You hear him groan before you flip him on his back, grabbing a pair of handcuffs from your bag and putting his hands behind his back, locking him in place.

"For someone who's created such a hassle, you really need better fighting skills." You mutter, Wanda picking everything through the mic.

You cuff him and grab him by his hair, holding his head up. Pulling a chloroform-laced cloth from your pocket, you knock him unconscious.

"Luybov? What happened?"

"We've caught our culprit." You chuckle as you picked the man up, throwing him over your shoulder and heading towards the front of the warehouse.

You set Adams down, his body limp against the cemented ground.

"Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."

Boom.

The warehouse erupts into a riot of flames, painting the area in orange and red.

You notice a puff of smoke head in your direction but it's unlike anything you've seen before, it was... pink?

You tried your best to avoid it but you couldn't, the cloud reaching you and the moment you inhaled it, you cough heavily.

Wanda uses her powers to contain the fire and puts it out, red wisps of her magic encasing the remaining smoke, clearing it into thin air.

Once you can finally breathe, you turn to pick Adams up and hand him into S.H.E.I.L.D's custody. A group of agents taking him into the back of the van along with rest of his henchmen.

You hand one agent your bag of evidence, receiving a nod in thanks before they get inside and drive off.

"You alright?" You feel Wanda's hand grab your shoulder from behind you, her voice is laced with so much love and a hint of worry that makes you fall even deeper for this woman.

You nod, turning to face her and wrapping your arms around her neck, pulling her in for a desperately lustful kiss.

The moment your lips make contact you can't help the moan you let out at the sensation. When you pull apart, she noticed how of how your pupils have dilated drastically.

"I think it's time we go back to the hotel, don't you agree?" Your fingers playing with the pendant of her necklace, Wanda smiles back at you and nods, giving you another peck that makes your heart skip a beat.

You'd never felt this needy before.

She brushes her hand past your ear making your breath hitch, disappoint running though you when you realize she was only trying to grab your earpiece, taking her's out right after and putting them in her pocket.

Hand in hand, you both head to car that Tony had lent you for your time here. Wanda opens the door for you, a blush painting your cheeks at her chivalry.

She then heads into her spot in the drivers seat, starting up the car and putting the hotels address in the built-in GPS system.

Once on your way, you feel Wanda's hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You were starting to lose your composure, though the act was innocent, the heat in your pants was becoming unbearable.

"Oh my poor baby," she coos, "I can read your thoughts; they're quite loud."

"Are you desperate for me?"

You feel your eyes shut for a moment at her accent slipping into her words, your thighs clenching at the rasp in her voice.

You grab her hand, bringing it down to your clothed pussy, making her feel how your wetness had already stained through your uniform.

Wanda bites her lip, making a sudden turn, slowing down, and coming to a complete stop in an empty lot. You look at the screen on the dashboard, your hotel a fifteen-minute drive away.

You awkwardly shift towards her, straddling her lap, and reaching to the side for the lever of the seat, pushing it downwards.

She cups your cheeks and kisses you deeply, your tongues meshing together in a familiar dance.

Wanda unzips your suit from the front, smiling at your lack of bra. You pull apart so you can slip it off and throw it somewhere into the backseat, leaving you in just your panties.

You gasp when she sucks different marks onto your neck and collarbone, teasing you.

She's looking at you with innocent eyes, batting her lashes and pressing kisses against your skin, she then takes your nipple into her mouth, her free hand toying with your other breast, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

You move your hands to the back of her head, moaning lightly whilst treading your fingers through her silky strands. "You want me to touch you detka?" She mumbles against you and your breathing gets heavier. 

"Please."

You buck your hips against her, grinding on her thigh pathetically, the friction of your panties brushing against your clit in the just the right way, little gasps and moans escaping your throat without permission.

Wanda releases your nipple, a string of saliva being the only thing connecting her to your chest, the sight making you whimper.

You look down at her with dewy eyes, the ache in between your legs becoming unbearable. Your breath shudders when you feel her fingers slip your underwear off, making contact with your wet folds, and you bite your lip at the feeling.

"So wet for me." She whispers, your eyes shutting when her slim digits make contact with your clit, and you can't help the noises that escape your lips. "You like when I touch you like this princessa?"

"Yes- fuck." You moan when she starts to tease your entrance, spreading your wetness thought your folds. When her fingers finally enter you, your eyes roll to the back of your head as she starts to pump them in and out of you.

"Such a pretty girl." Wanda coos, placing hot open mouthed kisses on your neck and jawline, her fingers curling ever so slightly on every pull out driving you insane, a familiar hot coil building up in your stomach.

Wanda repositions her hand, placing her two fingers on her pubic bone, using her free hand to help guide you into riding her.

"You make such pretty noises my darling, make some more." she smiles sweetly at you, making you groan at her words.

Your hands fly to her shoulders to help hold you up, your nails digging into the fabric of her suit, her lips back going to suck onto your nipples, your hips bucking frantically in your effort to chase you upcoming climax.

"Mm- mhmm, yes- Wanda, right- right there!" You squeal when she moves her thumb to put pressure on your neglected bundle of nerves.

"You're so beautiful" she murmurs against you before she pulls away, moving her other hand towards your ass, squeezing it gently.

"I'm gonna cum... fuck, baby I'm gonna cum! " Your eyes roll as you let the pleasure faze through you, you hide your face into her neck though your orgasm, pressing a light kiss there as your body trembles around her.

"You did so good detka, such a good girl." You hear her praise, rubbing up and down your back soothingly, as you slowly start to come down from you high.

When you lean back and open your eyes, they land on a lust ridden Sokovian, her pupils completely enlarged as she pulls her digits out of you.

Wanda brings her fingers towards her lips before slipping them both into her mouth, You feel another surge of wetness flow through you, slightly coating Wanda's thighs with my you slick.

She hums, "So sweet." She says as the swipes her fingers through your folds again, your head falling onto her shoulder as you shudder at the feeling.

You feel Wanda hold you up slightly, digits coated with your cum, you moan when she starts to pull at your nipples. "You like that, don't you?" She smiles before pulling you into another kiss.

She moves her lips downwards towards your chest, taking each bud into her mouth, tasting your juices as she swirls her tongue around them.

"Do you think you can do one more for me?" You nod, and she positions you onto her left thigh, guiding you hips as you start to grind onto her.

You whimper as your clit comes into contact with her skin each time you move your hips, Wanda pulls you into another lip lock, grabbing you by the back of your neck with one hand while her other one helps your movements.

"God- you feel so good..."

Wanda smirks against your lips before moving her hand from my hips towards your overstimulated clit, rubbing tight circles around it before pinching it, sending you into a deeper state of pleasure.

You scream her name and a string of curses, trying to steady your breathing. "So perfect for me." She whispers as she kisses your forehead.

"I love you" You say as you kiss her nose, watching how it scrunches adorably.

"I love you too" She returns, pecking your lips and hugging you close. Both of you sighing in content at the skin on skin contact.

[verstappen-cult]

OBSESSED, M. VERSTAPPEN.

✶ SUMMARY. You’ve always been a little bit obsessed with your boyfriend. Especially with his thighs.

Or, 2 times Max catches you looking at his thighs + 1 time you do something about it.

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. max’s thighs. blowjobs. biting. pegging. english is not my first language.

GWEN RAMBLES — this was requested a while ago and just now had the inspo and the time to write it. i’m sorry to the person who asked for this but also big thanks because i’ve also been obsessed with max’s thighs ever since i saw pics of him in those tiny shorts. hopefully we’ll get to see more of that during this summer break. prayer circle, my house at 10pm. 🤞����

#1

It’s a very hot summer day and you’re spending it out at sea on Max’s yacht with some of your friends.

And Max is wearing the shortest shorts ever known to man, while also parading himself around the yacht with a gin and tonic in hand.

He’s drunk. You see it in the way he laughs at Daniel’s joke, overly excited and almost doubling down in a hysterical laugh – Max always laughs at whatever comes out of Daniel’s mouth, but when he’s drunk it’s definitely worse – and how he has to grab onto the railing to keep his balance.

His glass is empty, so he excuses himself to go pour some more of his favorite drink. But then he sees you watching him and a big smile breaks out on his face.

“Hey, baby.” He says plopping down next to you, the couch is so comfy that you’ve find yourself dozing off a few times. But the heat has made it impossible for you to catch your sleep. “What are you doing here all alone, pretty girl?”

Oh, yes. He also likes to call you all the petnames in the world when he’s drunk.

You scoff, brushing a strand of hair out of his sweaty forehead. “Jus’ watching you flirt with Daniel.”

“I was not!” He moves away, crossing his arms over his chest like a scolded child.

It is in that exact moment that your gaze is drawn to his legs. His shorts have gone up a little too much, revealing the pale skin of his thick thighs.

Your mouth waters at the sight.

Images of those thighs wrapped around your waist as you fu—

“What you looking at?” Max’s tone is teasing, a smirk dancing on his lips. He knows exactly what you’re looking at.

Your eyes snap up to his, heat going up your chest all the way to your face.

“Oh, shut up.” You bite back, forcing yourself to look away. You raise your own glass of gin and tonic to your lips just to have something to do.

Max keeps on looking at you, you can feel his blue eyes boring holes in the side of your face.

Eventually, he stands up. Right in front of you, so you have no other option than to look at him.

"See something you like?" He asks, chewing on his bottom lip.

You're about to open your mouth to say something witty when he just simply turns around and goes back to the rest of the group.

If your eyes remained fixed on his ass, nobody needs to know that.

#2

Max is training on the terrace. It's a chilly day in Monaco, so he decided to skip going to the gym and, instead, to do his daily training at home.

On one side it's good because he just got back from Italy and you've missed him. You want to spend as much time as you can with him before he needs to travel to the next country.

But on the other side, it’s torture.

You were enjoying a really good book you picked up last week, an orange juice by your side on the lounge chair when he decided it was a good idea to start training mere feet away from you in those stupid shorts of his.

Now you’re trying to make out the words in the page as he sits at the other side of the terrace, legs spread and feet planted on the floor as he does some lifting. His hair is long, so a few strands of hair fall over his eyes.

Your gaze is set in the way the muscle of his thigh tenses as he lifts the weights, then relaxing again while a groan falls from his lips. He repeats the action again. And again.

By the fourth time, you feel overwhelmed and short of breath.

"You've been reading the same page for a while now. Is it that good?" There's a glint of amusement in his eyes and a smirk gracing his lips.

"Uh?" You ask dumbly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

All the blood in your body flows to your face as thoughts of feeling his thighs tensing under your hands while doing something completely different flood your mind.

"You can at least pretend," He snorts, setting the weights aside.

Max grabs a towel to wipe the sweat off his face, his other hand brushing through his hair.

He's so unfairly hot.

You need to cool down. You need to do something.

+1

You successfully avoided your boyfriend the rest of the morning, deciding instead to go to your room to actually read the book. Being as far away as possible from him is what you needed. It’s not fair he looks so good lifting weights.

That was until Max came into the room announcing he was going to take a shower. You didn’t even raised your head, you just kept reading.

But then he emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing more than his boxers.

If you were having a hard time with his shorts before, it is so much worse now. You don’t even know how he put them on, his thighs are one second away from ripping them into pieces.

“Stop ogling me.” He’s drying his hair with a towel, drops of water falling down his naked chest.

You pout, leaving your book aside. You know you will not be reading any more pages today, not while he’s standing there like a sweet waiting to be devoured. “It’s not my fault you have such huge thighs.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t be like that,” You get out of bed, walking to him. “I know you like it when I thirst over you.”

“Yes. Because I love being perceived as nothing more than a sex symbol.” Max takes one of his hundreds Red Bull shirts out of the closet, but before he has time to put it on, you throw it across the room.

Max’s complaint dies in his throat when he sees the hunger in your eyes.

“Admit that you like it.” You plant your hands on his chest, pushing him backwards until his back is against the wall.

The towel falls from his hands and he swallows with a barely perceptible nod of his head.

You shake your head, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it in front of him. “No, I want you to say it.” You maintain eye contact as you fall down on your knees, it’s almost funny the way his eyes widen.

His jaw goes slack when he feels your hands on the waistband of his underwear.

“Yes,” He sighs, closing his eyes tightly. “I like it.”

You coo, placing a hand over your heart. “See?” You feign pitying him. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Max whines when you finally pull his boxers down, his already growing cock springing free.

“I don’t know,” He breathes out, looking down at you. “what you like about my thighs so much.”

You have to laugh, a finger moving up and down his left thigh. “What do you mean? Haven’t you look at how,” You grab his thighs, fingers sinking into the muscled flesh. “thick they are? You have no idea how much I want to bite them.”

“Do it.” The words are out of his mouth before he has time to think about it. Not that he doesn’t want you to do it, it’s that if he thinks too much about it he might lose his mind.

You look into his eyes, so blue and deep as the sea, before looking at what you have right in front of you.

The object of your most recent fantasies.

Max takes a sharp intake of breath as you lean in, but instead of immediately biting into the flesh, you run your tongue from the bottom all the way to the top, stopping right before you reach his pelvis. His cock twitching at having your mouth so close.

"Think of how pretty these would look with my teeth marks." Max groans, fisting his hands by his sides. "You should definitely use those tiny shorts now to show everyone what you let me do."

Max can't say anything, his mind going fuzzy at the edges already. He feels like his whole body is on fire.

You keep running your tongue over his left thigh, occasionally sucking a mark. Only when you're pleased with your work, you move to the other one.

"Plea—" A moan gets ripped from his throat when you sink your teeth into his thigh, your hand brushing against his cock. The second time you do it, Max thrust his hips up at nothing.

"So fucking perfect." You moan seeing the final result. "I can't believe you're letting me mark you."

Max is about to reply when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

"Oh, fuck!"

With the help of your hand you start stroking what doesn't fit in your mouth, the taste and how big it feels against your tongue making you moan.

Max tangles his fingers in your hair. His vision going blurry as you twirl your tongue around the tip of his cock and, without warning, taking as much as you can in your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You have to stop yourself for a few seconds to breathe through your nose, before pulling back until only the head is in your mouth. Slowly, and lifting your gaze up to his, you start bobbing up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

Max's moans and pants fill the room, mixing with the slurping sounds of your mouth and tongue working on his shaft.

You drag your teeth along the sides of his cock, and Max hisses in response. "Fuck, do it again." And you do it, pulling an obscene sound from him.

When Max looks down, he finds the hand that's not on his thigh, feeling the muscles tensing under it, between your legs, moving in circles against your clit.

Max thrusts his hips up, not being able to hold back, and immediately regrets it when he hears you cough. But then you’re pull off him, a grin on your face as you wipe the saliva with the back of your hand.

"Do it again."

That's the only thing you say before taking him deeper into your throat.

Max pulls lightly on your scalp, and you moan around him. It makes him do it again as he start thrusting his hips into your mouth, the gagging sounds almost enough to send him over the edge.

"Fuck, look at you. So pretty with your mouth full of my cock."

You moan and squeeze his thighs, hearing his breathing get more ragged lets you know how close he is to his release.

So, you pull off him.

Max groans at not feeling the warmth of your mouth around him anymore. He was so close to spilling down you throat.

"On the bed." Your throat is sore and are in need of a glass of water. But it can wait.

It takes him a moment to process your words, but then he's moving and climbing into the bed.

You stand up, your knees hurting despite having the pillow underneath, and open the special drawer you two have in the closet.

Max's gasps makes you chuckle.

You take out Max's favorite harness and one of your favorite dildos. It's a little smaller than Max's huge cock. Just a little bit.

You leave it by Max's side as you climb on top of him. "Spread your legs." He does it, getting comfortable against the pillows. "More." You help him by bending his right knee, feet planted on the mattress.

You take your sweatpants and underwear off, before leaning over to grab some lube from the nightstand.

Max's blue eyes glaze over. You straddle his left thigh, a soft moan falls from your mouth when your cunt makes contact with his skin, and he flexes his thigh.

"You—," He groans, tilting his head back against the pillows. "You're already soaking my thigh." He says in a gasp, his hand finding your hip and helping you move against him. "Got turned on by sucking my cock, uh?" He teases you and all you can do is nod, at a loss of words, your clit dragging against his muscled thigh making you whimper.

You're overwhelmed by the pleasure, only able to moan his name over and over, and over again. Your eyelids fluttering shut when you grind just right against him.

But you have a plan, so without pausing the drag of your pussy, you grab the lube, popping the cap and coating two fingers.

Max looks intently as you warm your fingers before guiding them to where he needs you the most. He instinctively spreads his legs some more, giving you enough space.

Your cling onto Max's arm on your hip to keep moving against his thigh as you slip your index finger into the tight heat of Max's hole.

Max moans loudly. He doesn't know where to look, if at you bouncing on his thigh or at where your finger disappears inside of him.

"More," He grits his teeth on a whimper, closing his eyes for a second. "Please."

And who are you to say no? You slide your finger all the way in, pumping slowly until you have him moaning for more; so you add a second finger, scissoring them to open him up.

Your legs begin to shake, forcing Max to help you by tensing his muscles which makes it easier to grind against him. The angle is a little weird, but neither of you seem to care.

Max's hips thrust up to meet your fingers, which are now hitting his prostate on every stroke. He's out of breath, pre-cum pooling on his lower belly, and throws his head back, clenching around your fingers.

Seeing him so desperate only spurs you on.

Your climax takes you by surprise. White-hot pleasure erupts behind your eyelids with a broken moan. His name, Max, Max, Max echoing in the room. Head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

It takes you a moment to go back to yourself and when you do, Max has a desperate look on his face, jaw slack and eyebrows furrowed.

"You're so unfairly hot." Finally letting him know your thoughts from earlier. "You okay, baby?" You ask, teasingly. Moving your fingers slowly, staring intently down at his face.

"More." He cries out.

"You're doing so good for me, Max." You praise him, fucking your fingers in harder, making him moan louder. You love to make him moan like this.

When Max starts babbling, you know he's getting close. So, you pull your fingers out. He's shivers slightly, feeling desperate at being so close to his orgasm again but not being able to reach for it.

While Max is busy trying to control his breathing, you grab the harness to lube up the toy.

Max groans desperately when he feels you between his spread legs, the head of the dildo sliding easily into his hole.

You stare intently down at him and he grabs your hips to help you slide all the way in until your hips are pressed up against his ass. You place your hands on his thighs, and he immediately wraps them around your waist with enough force to keep you still, not letting you move.

You stare into each other's eyes, and then you're meeting halfway in a hungry and messy kiss. You feel like you can't breathe and need him to survive, and for the way he licks into your mouth you know he feels the same.

When you pull away, he nods at you to continue. You grip his hips, setting a brutal pace that has him groaning and fisting the sheets.

Max whines and squeezes his eyes shut, feeling you so deep it’s almost sucking the air out of him.

"Does it feel good?" You pant, fucking harder. The slapping of your skin against his so obscene it makes your cunt clench around nothing.

It's good, it's incredible even. But he needs more, he needs—

"I want to ride you."

Your brain buzzes, his words echoing in your head. "Yeah?" You slow down, biting your lip when you find his eyes, blue completely swallowed by black.

He helps you pull out and sit against the headboard, and you can't tear your eyes away from his bruised thighs, the love bites and teeth marked a reminder of your obsession with that specific part of him.

Max pushes himself up on his knees and straddles you, hovering over your cock. He maintains eye contact as he wraps his hands around it and slowly lowers himself.

His thighs clench as he feels the tip breaching his ring of muscles. It feels tighter, even though you've been inside of him moments ago. He manages to sink down completely, hissing at feeling so full.

"Just—give me a second." He whispers, one of his hands holding onto your shoulder.

Max lifts himself up, your cock almost slipping out, only the tip still inside, before letting himself fall down. He keeps that rhythm for a few minutes, adjusting to the feeling of you inside of him.

When he starts bouncing on your cock with a little more force, you start to thrust your hips up to meet him, ripping moan after moan from his throat.

"You feel so, shit, so good." He sighs, leaning in to connect your lips.

You moan into each other's mouths, your cock hitting that particular spot inside of him.

Max breaks the kiss and places his hands on your legs behind him, bracing himself as he rolls his hips, the new angle making his mind shut down completely.

"Good boy," You praise him, gaze flicking from his leaking cock to his bruised thighs clenching every time he pushes himself up. "Taking my cock so well. Look at you, so pretty."

You know you hit his prostate when he sobs, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

His movements become sloppy, his thighs clenching with more force as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm.

A few more thrust with your fingers digging into his hips, and he's shooting a huge load of his cum across his stomach and even chest. He sees stars behind his eyes, his climax so intense he feels like passing out. He keeps on riding you through his orgasm, letting his head fall forward against your forehead. He only stops when starts to feel overstimulated.

Both of you stay silent for a few moments, trying to catch your breath. Only when Max feels like he's not going to pass out, he opens his eyes to see you already looking at him, a soft smile on your lips.

He kisses you softly. "So, what about my thighs? Really, I need to know because it's a little weird."

You huff, rolling your eyes. "It's not weird."

Max laughs, cupping your cheek. "Of course not."

"It is not!" You say indignantly, your thumbs drawing patterns on his hips. "It's like you being obsessed with my tits. I don't tell you it's weird."

"I have teeth marks all over my thighs. I won't be able to wear shorts for weeks."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was on my knees." You shrug as Max gests comfortable on top of you, the toy still sitting inside of him.

"Shut up, you weirdo." He jokes.

"You love me."

He looks at you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. "I do."

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[fluentmoviequoter]

It's Commander, Sergeant

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!Army-FBI!reader

Summary: After years of thinking about Tim Bradford, you meet him again during a riot in Los Angeles. When he learns you outrank him, he falls... hard.

Warnings: incorrect Army terminology and actions, depiction of riots, fluff! a couple Call of Duty references. Also, I grew up ten minutes from Fort Rucker, so I'm allowed to trash talk it.

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

When you joined the Army immediately after graduation, you didn’t expect it to become a career. What surprised you more was meeting Tim Bradford. You only met him once, but he stayed with you, a firm and commanding yet protective and loyal personality that was impossible to forget. Now, years later, you continue to think about him occasionally, hoping he’s doing well and happy. He inspired you to work through the ranks and do something more meaningful than just obeying as you’re told. Not that being a soldier and taking orders is unimportant, as you’ve explained to the troops you are now Master Sergeant of. Personally, you felt a calling to do more.

“Master Sergeant, Sergeant Major Riley is here to see you,” a soldier says, standing at attention in your doorway.

“I’ll be right out to meet him. Thank you, Private,” you reply kindly.

You are a different kind of Master Sergeant, unwilling to act higher than the men and women who answer to you. Your respect for others, regardless of rank, has made you a favorite on base.

“No need. Is now a good time?” Riley asks, taking the Private’s place.

“Of course. What can I do for you, Sergeant Major Riley?”

“There’s a developing situation in Los Angeles. If you and your team are up for it, I’d like to send you in to help.”

“Los Angeles? Who has jurisdiction?”

Riley chuckles, shaking his head, as he says, “I knew that would be your first question. Not ‘what’s the situation?’ because that’s boring, right?”

“Something like that, sir.”

“The LAPD called in military reinforcements for an out-of-control rioting issue.”

“When do we leave?”

“1700 hours. Tell your troops.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s everyone enjoying US Army Garrison Italy?” you ask your team, composed of twenty of the best soldiers.

“The men- the view is beautiful, Master Sergeant,” one of the female soldiers says.

“I’d have to agree. But we’re heading back to the States. There’s a riot issue in Los Angeles and they’ve called for the best to come in and help.”

“Riot control? Now, we’re talkin’, ma’am!”

“Los Angeles, California?” someone asks.

“What other Los Angeles is there, man?” a second voice replies.

You clear your throat, and everyone in the room snaps to attention. Smiling, you nod and confirm that your destination is Los Angeles, California.

“We leave at 1700 sharp. Helos are standing by. And before you ask, no, I don’t know when or if we’ll be back. LAPD is running point on this - listen closely, we are assisting. This is about the safety of US citizens. Not proving grounds or a test to become a Ranger. They’re calling the shots, but you still answer to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” your team yells together.

“Then let’s get out there and protect our home.”

As you leave, someone whispers, “I’m gonna miss Italy.”

You agree, but your job is about more than the view from the base. As you pack to return to California, you wonder if you’ll ever be back to Italy.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Master Sergeant. Thank you for coming so quickly. I am Sergeant Wade Grey, I’m Watch Commander of the LAPD Mid-Wilshire division,” Grey introduces, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir. Tell us where you need us, and we’ll be there.”

“We’ve got six teams out there right now, covering what we consider the biggest targets, but I’ll get you in touch with my lead Sergeant.”

“Is he in the field? We’d be happy to meet him where he is and take his direction from there.”

Wade sighs, a relieved smile appearing on his face. “You’re the best person in the state right now, Master Sergeant. He’s at the Wilshire Federal Building, the intersection of Wilshire and the 405. We’re running short on equipment, but we can get you transport.”

“Oh, we’ve got a ride. And, Sergeant Grey, feel free to drop the formalities,” you offer before telling him your first name.

“Only if you call me Wade,” he replies. “Wait- don’t tell me you have an APC parked outside my station.”

“We don’t. We have an M113 APC, a light tank, and six more vehicles waiting for a destination. You called for riot control, and we’re going to control some riots.”

“If you ever get tired of the Army, the LAPD would be happy to have you.”

“Unless you can offer me a station in Italy and as many armored vehicles as I can drive, I think I’m happy where I am.”

“Fort Irwin is scenic.”

You walk backward as you exit the office, tilting your head to the side as you consider. “Italian oceanside or California desert. Guess which I’m picking?”

“Good luck out there.”

“Thank you, sir- Wade.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The moment you jump off the side of the APC, two LAPD officers rush to you and your group of four soldiers. Splitting your team into five groups and sending one to join each of the LAPD squadrons seemed to be the best option. One of your team members introduces you to an officer, who nods and ushers you to follow him.

“Master Sergeant, this is LAPD Sergeant-“

“Bradford?”

Tim tilts his chin, his eyes the only part of his face you can see past his helmet and shield. You’d know him anywhere after countless nights of thinking of him and being inspired by him.

“Have we met, Master Sergeant?” he asks, his voice raised over the crowd gathering on Wilshire Boulevard.

Someone throws a flaming bottle of alcohol toward the steps of the building, and you motion for your team to push the crowd back.

“Later, Sergeant Bradford. Care to tell me what’s going on?” you ask.

“LA courts decided to take a bunch of cases back to trial, deal with overcrowding, standard procedures. But… you get it.”

“Don’t want ‘em out or want to make sure they do get out. Yeah, I know the answer, though I’ve never understood the thought process behind it.”

“You and me both. What are we supposed to do to show them this won’t change anything?”

Glancing at the crowd, you weigh the options. “Realistically, getting violent is only going to make this worse. I’m not suggesting a negotiation, but… what if we try stopping?”

“We’re not setting down our arms and opening the gates for them to storm the Wilshire Federal Building!” Tim yells.

“Then what would you like to do? Stand here until the trials are done?”

“That’s not-“

“Look, I don’t want to pull rank but if you’re just going to stand here and argue with me, I will, Sergeant Bradford,” you reply. His jaw clenches beneath his helmet, and you offer, “Half of your men lower their shields, a show of good faith. Then we go from there.”

Tim lowers his shield, stepping toward you to threaten, “If anything happens to my men, it is on your hands. This isn’t your home, but it’s mine.”

“I understand how this works, Sergeant Bradford. And I’m not telling you to do it alone.”

You push past him, leading two soldiers to the front line, dropping your shield, and raising your hands. The crowd members closest to you stop, looking at you curiously.

“There is a court schedule available online!” you yell. “If you have a loved one that you would like to advocate for, call the courts, call their defenders, and tell them why someone is worthy of freedom at the proper time and place! But don’t risk your own freedom, don’t take the lives of your neighbors or your peace officers in the process!”

You signal for all of the officers to raise their shields again. As the crowd storms forward, you rush into the fray, letting your training take over as you disarm the citizens around you.

“Down on the ground!” you yell, panting as the tank approaches behind you.

At the sight of the tank, the men and women standing in the road begin kneeling, lowering their weapons, and raising their hands. The LAPD rush forward, doing their jobs as you send your team to give your orders to the other soldiers you brought back to the States.

“That shouldn’t have worked,” Tim says, approaching from behind you.

Turning toward him, you sigh and remove your helmet. “Lots of things shouldn’t work, Sergeant Bradford.”

“You know my name; care to tell me why?”

Pressing your lips together to hide your smile, you walk past him, calling over your shoulder to say, “Never expected I’d have a higher ranking than you, Sarge!”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Is the Master Sergeant here?” Tim asks as he enters the bullpen.

“She’s with her team, briefing their superiors.” Wade smiles before asking, “Why would you like to know?”

“She knew my name. I can’t place her though.”

“She’s Army, you were Army… think about it, Tim.”

“I met hundreds of people in the Army, Wade-“

“Not all of them stay in the Army and work their way through the rankings because you inspired them,” you say, standing in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No problem,” Wade says, adding your first name while looking toward Tim.

Tim looks past you, clearly trying to place your name.

“I met you my first year, we were only in the same room for a few minutes and didn’t say more than a few words to each other. But you inspired me. You were a good soldier, a better leader, and I wanted to do what you did.”

“And now you’re a sergeant?”

Smiling, you correct, “It’s Master Sergeant, Sergeant.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You got a little drool right there,” Angela jokes, pointing to the corner of Tim’s mouth. “What’s so special about her?”

“She outranks me,” Tim answers.

“Okay. Lots of people do.”

“Yeah,” Wade adds from Tim’s other side. “You don’t look at me like that.”

“No offense, Wade, but you’re not as pretty,” Angela replies.

Tim shushes them suddenly, nodding when you turn and see him. You smile at him, yet again drawn in by Tim Bradford’s presence and leadership. His not trusting you at first, yelling at you, was somewhat unexpected, but you’ve been in his place before. Trusting people as soon as you meet them is difficult, often impossible in your profession, but Tim’s quick change makes you smile. You’re a good leader, like him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got a problem,” Wade calls, ending a phone call. “There’s another riot at Cal State Prison. LAPD and Lancaster PD can’t handle it alone.”

“We can never make it there in time,” Nolan responds. “It’s nearly 2 hours without traffic.”

“Now would be a good time to get a private jet or something, Thorsen,” Angela calls.

You pull your phone from your pocket, typing quickly before nodding. “I need Bradford,” you tell Wade. “And your landing pad.”

“What did you do?” Tim asks.

“Sikorsky X2 is five minutes out. We can get there and drop in 20 or less.” You raise a finger to point to everyone in the room. “This stays here. I’m not supposed to know the Army has one stateside.”

“Has a what?” Aaron asks.

“Good answer.”

“It only holds two crew members, but I’ve got a team out there that can ride in a cargo area. We’re going to need backup, so if you can get airships or anything, Sergeant Grey, please do. Let’s roll.”

Tim follows you quickly, jogging to catch up with you. “How’d you pull this off?”

“Somebody owed me a favor.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That I inspired you to stay in the Army, to get here.”

“Oh.” You push open a door and begin climbing the stairs quickly. Stepping onto the roof, you look at Tim and say, “Ask me again when this is over.”

Tim waits until you turn away to smile. He can’t believe he forgot you, but your sacrificial, mutually beneficial leadership style, kindness, and abilities, not to mention that you outrank him, have him practically wrapped around your finger.

✯✯✯✯✯

Standing in the back of a helicopter and hooked to a rail, you lean out against the whipping air and feel weightless. The pain and concern of the day are wearing off, and as the sun sets, you’re glad you were asked to come to LA. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath.

Tim taps your side, and when he has your attention, he points West. The ocean is now visible, and the light ripples over the water, reflecting the pastel colors painting the sky. You smile at the view before looking back to Tim. Reaching up, you adjust the channel dial on his headset. He doesn’t even flinch at your sudden movement, and your smile grows as he leans toward you.

Looking at the soldiers behind you, you say, “If I think any of you can hear me, I’ll have you transferred to the worst base I can think of.”

No one except for Tim reacts, and he chuckles quietly.

“Okay, ask me again,” you request into your microphone.

“Did you really stay in the Army because of me?”

“Yes. You showed me what was possible, but your kindness toward me made me think I could do it too.”

“You could’ve done it without me.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Easy, Sergeant.”

“It’s-“

“Master Sergeant… when this illegally obtained helicopter lands, would you go to dinner with me?”

A soldier to your left moves, and you shake your head. “After this illegally obtained helo lands, and I have Henderson transferred to hot and humid Fort Rucker, Alabama, I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Since you outrank me, surely you get paid better, so it’s on you?”

You lean toward Tim, pausing when your headset hits his. “I could also go back to Italy and see if anyone there is willing to take me to dinner.”

“Fine,” Tim groans. “I’ll pay, but only if you stay in town long enough to show me how much my inspiration paid off.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The dinner date does not go as planned. When you enter the police station, Sergeant Major Riley awaits you. He takes you into Wade’s office to talk, and Tim stands outside waiting for you.

Being a soldier means being sent to different places with only a moment’s notice, but being at your level makes things far more difficult and irregular. Tim may have missed his chance.

“Any idea what that’s about?” Tim asks Wade.

“No clue.”

You exit a moment later, your previous smile now absent. Tim tries to hide his disappointment, but he should have known getting into a relationship with a younger, yet higher ranking, soldier would never work.

“I blame you,” you tell Wade, stopping before him and Tim.

“What did I do?” he asks incredulously.

“You said there was an opening at Irwin, but you didn’t say that you only knew that because my Sergeant Major told you.”

“He may have mentioned it.”

“Anyone want to loop me in?” Tim asks tiredly.

“I’m moving to California. Leaving Italy behind to lead a new force,” you answer sadly. “No more authentic pasta for me.”

“Wait- you’re moving to California? Irwin, which is three hours from here?” Tim interjects.

“It’s your fault too,” you remember. “I let you inspire me to be a good leader and a good teacher, but now I’m paying for it.”

Riley calls your name, beckoning you back into the office. The second time you exit, you seem a bit more pleased.

“Is the offer for that date still on the table?” you ask Tim. “Looks like my team is going to be in LA county for a few days before I can get discharged.”

"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about? You're getting out?" Tim asks, raising his hands in question.

"I'm receiving another raise in rank," you tell Tim, grabbing his extended wrist and pulling him toward the door. "But not in the Army."

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯ 1 Year Later ✯✯

“Your form needs some work, but there’s potential,” you say.

“My, uh, my recruiter said that you take potential and make talent,” the recruit before you says.

Standing, you smile. “I like to think so. But I can’t do anything without your effort. So, are you willing to put in the work to do your best?”

“Yes, ma’am, Commander.”

“Then I only have one more question. Why do you want to join FBI special operations?”

“Commander,” someone scoffs from the doorway. “It’s like you take pride in increasing the divide between our ranks.”

Glancing over, you make a “shoo” gesture before finishing the recruit’s evaluation.

“Let’s go,” you tell Tim, gathering your things. “It’s been almost a year, and we still haven’t had an uninterrupted dinner date.”

“I’m not sure we ever will, Sarge.”

You move your hands to Tim’s shoulders, brushing your lips over his before whispering, “It’s Commander, Sergeant.”

[poisonlove]

Can I have a request!? Jenna Ortega x Fem!Readder

"so.. you're just going to.. give up on me." "that is NOT what i meant-" "you're not willing to fight for me either. i think it's pretty clear, Y/n."

Credits to: urfriendlywriter

-Thank you!

FIGHT | j.o

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X reader

Status: request

Warning: fluffy

The distance was becoming difficult to bear.

Jenna was in Romania for the filming of 'Wednesday,' and our relationship was feeling the strain. Her messages were becoming rarer, and our calls, though filled with love, were always too brief.

I was in Italy, far from her, and the emptiness I felt was growing each day.

My eyes were fixed on the screen of my phone, waiting for Jenna's response: would she be up for a Skype video call?I nervously bit my lower lip, palms sweating. I wanted to see her and talk to her about... us. I don't want to seem selfish; I know how hard she's working, often late into the night... but is it too much to ask for a simple good morning every now and then?

I was even considering the idea of taking a break, not because I don't love her, but maybe it would be one less thing for her to worry about.

Jen❤️Call

I quickly skimmed my girlfriend's message and tapped on the Skype icon, calling Jenna.

After three rings, Jenna picked up.

Jenna's tired face appeared on the screen. "Hey, Amore" she said with a smile, "how are you?"

I looked sadly into her sleep-deprived eyes, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me.

I'm a horrible person.

I tried to smile, but the worry was evident in my eyes. "Hi Jen," I replied, forcing the corners of my lips into a smile.

"Everything okay, Amore?" Jenna responded with concern, likely noticing my obviously fake smile.

Of course she noticed, she's an actress.

"I can't wait to come home and hold you," she added, looking at me with total admiration, her brown eyes sparkling uniquely. I played with my fingers, looking down at my legs feeling the weight of the words I needed to say.

I took a deep breath.

"Jenna, we need to talk about how things are going between us," I said, wanting to get to the point.

I felt my heart pounding in my chest, every word charged with tension.

Jenna immediately noticed the seriousness in my voice. Her smile faded.

"What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?" I looked up and saw her expression change from happy to deeply troubled, her teeth biting her lower lip forcefully.

"No, you didn't say anything wrong," I replied, trying to stay calm despite the anxiety growing inside me."It's just that... it feels like we're drifting further apart. Your messages are rare, and the calls, as lovely as they are, are too short. I feel neglected," I timidly confessed, feeling my voice tremble.

Jenna sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"I know, and I'm sorry. The work here is grueling, and I try to make time for us, but it's not enough." Her smile returned, but it was forced. "Three more months and I'll be with you," she said calmly, her tone hopeful but tinged with despair.

"It's not just about time, Jenna," I continued, tears welling up behind my eyes. "It's that I feel like I'm not a priority to you anymore." I confessed, feeling the knot in my throat tighten.

Jenna looked at me with genuine concern.

"Don't say that. You're the most important thing to me," she said, looking at me sadly, her eyes watery. I could see the pain reflected in her eyes, and it broke my heart.

Jenna hates seeing me cry; it makes her sad.

"Then why don't you show it?" I snapped, my voice trembling with emotion. "I love you, Jenna, but I can't keep feeling this alone," I said angrily, sadness mixing with the rest of my emotions.

Jenna clenched her fists, frustration evident on her face.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is for me? I've been working for hours, learning scripts, shooting grueling scenes. I'm exhausted!" Jenna looked at me with anger, gritting her teeth. I could see the fatigue and frustration building up inside her like a volcano about to erupt.

"It's never enough for you, is it? You always want more," she said with frustration, her voice cracking.

Ouch. I felt her words like a stab in the gut.

"I don't deny that," I retorted, "but I can't ignore feeling neglected. Even a simple message once in a while would make a difference." I suggested, feeling the anxiety grow inside me as I noticed the change in atmosphere between us.

Jenna's anger soon gave way to sadness, and a strange look came over her eyes.

"So... are you... giving up on me?" she asked, her voice filled with pain. I could sense the fear behind her words, a fear that resonated within me too.

Her words hit me like a punch to the stomach.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Then are you willing to fight for us?" she interrupted, frustration and desperation in her voice. "Or are you going to leave me?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, feeling the tension rise.

"Jenna, I want to fight for us, but I can't do it alone. I need you to be willing to do the same. We can't make it if we don't both put in the effort. I love you, but I need to feel closer to you even when we're apart. We can find a balance, I'm sure of it, but it takes both of us." I felt tears running down my cheeks, every word filled with hope and fear.

Jenna remained silent, analyzing my words. Her gaze was intense, as if she was trying to understand every nuance of what I had said.

"You're right," she finally said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. I sighed loudly, finding her adorable, my heart lighter seeing her so vulnerable.

The sound of someone knocking on her door made me raise an eyebrow in confusion.

I looked at the screen, trying to figure out what was happening.

Jenna sighed and looked towards the door, irritated. "Coming!" she said to whoever was on the other side. "Damn persistence," she muttered softly before looking back at me with a big smile.

She muted the video call.

Jenna stood up from her desk chair, revealing her casual attire: an oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts I had lent her for the trip. My heart swelled with tenderness seeing her wear something of mine, making me smile like an idiot.

As she walked away, I glanced at her trailer curiously. The walls were adorned with photos of us together, taken in happy moments. A plush toy I had won for her on our first date rested next to her pillow. There were work notes scattered on the table, highlighted scripts, and a half-empty coffee mug. The atmosphere was a mix of chaos and warmth, a perfect reflection of her current life.

Jenna returned to the computer, a strange look on her face. She seemed worried, as if something had troubled her.

"Everything okay?" I asked with concern.

Jenna unmuted and looked at me guiltily.

"It was Emma; she said Tim urgently wanted to see us," she said calmly.

I sighed loudly, feeling frustration grow.

"Go, I love you," I said with a small smile on my lips.

Even though I wanted to talk to her more.

Jenna widened her smile and blew a kiss to the camera. "Love you more," she said, smiling broadly, winking at me before ending the call.

I was alone again, the feeling of emptiness returning to fill the room. I looked at the dark screen, trying to process the conflicting emotions inside me. I felt relieved for having spoken up but still worried about what the future held for us.

But I realized it was time to make a drastic decision.

(...)

With the suitcase gripped tightly in my hands, I made my way towards the filming location accompanied by Percy, Jenna's best friend who had volunteered to come with me to ensure everything went smoothly.

As I navigated through the bustling security crowd on set, I reflected on how I had come to make this decision. I had chosen to take the flight to Romania because I felt a deep need to see Jenna. The long weeks of separation had intensified my desire to embrace her again, to feel her presence beside me.

The journey had been an ordeal, with its complications and unexpected expenses, but nothing could stop me. I felt that this gesture was important not only for the two of us but also for the future of our relationship. I was determined to show Jenna how much she meant to me, how much I was willing to do for us.

"I have to admit, it's a bit more challenging to get in here than I thought," I commented with a sigh of frustration as we made our way through the security crowd on set.

Percy nodded with a sympathetic smile.

"I figured. But you know, this is a big surprise you're giving Jenna. She'll be over the moon."

"I really hope so," I replied as Percy offered silent support while we continued to walk.

"Thank you so much for coming to meet me at the entrance and for avoiding the security questions by saying you were with me."

"Don't mention it," Percy replied with a nod.

"We're on the same team."

We exchanged a knowing smile as we continued to make our way through the set, searching for the spot where Jenna was filming.

There was utter chaos.

Cameras moved with precision, people walked frantically to coordinate everything, and Tim Burton's authoritative voice gave directives from behind the scenes.

As we advanced, I noticed Emma sitting in front of a makeup artist, focused as she was being prepared for her scene. With a glance, she gestured with her free hand to indicate where Jenna was.

"I'm going to get ready," Percy said with an apologetic smile, and I nodded weakly.

I left the suitcase in a corner.

Jenna, dressed as Wednesday, was in the middle of the forest on set, with a stern and concentrated look as she tried to get into character. However, her eyes seemed veiled with a subtle sadness. She scanned her surroundings, trying to focus despite the distractions.

Meanwhile, Tim Burton intervened from a distance with his authoritative voice.

"No, Jenna, you need to smile in this scene! Look at your uncle!" he said, trying to guide her performance and set the right atmosphere for the shot.

Jenna sighed loudly, visibly upset by the director's request. "Let's try again," she said determinedly to her crew, preparing for another attempt to capture the required emotion.

As the crew organized for the new take, Jenna finally spotted my figure among the actors and crew present on set.

Her face suddenly lit up with a radiant smile, momentarily forgetting the scene's tensions and focusing all her attention on me.My heart raced at the sight of that genuine smile.

Our gazes met, and time seemed to stand still as Jenna hurried towards me.

"Y/n!" Jenna exclaimed loudly, her voice echoing through the trees on set as she ran towards me.

"STOP!" Tim shouted, and Jenna continues to run "who is y/n?" The producer asked one of his colleagues

Without hesitation, Jenna caught up to me and hugged me tightly like a koala, holding me affectionately and lovingly. I felt the warmth of her body against mine, and my heart filled with joy at her closeness.

"You're really here," Jenna whispered emotionally against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

Jenna began to cry.

The brunette held the embrace with a strength that conveyed all her love and gratitude. Her tears, warm and salty, began to silently trickle down her cheeks as emotion overwhelmed her.I felt her heart beating strongly against my chest, her breath hitched with the intensity of her emotions.

I stroked her hair, trying to comfort her as she continued to cry.

"I'm here, Jenna," I whispered softly, holding her even closer. "I'm here with you, forever."

Jenna said nothing, but her embrace spoke volumes for her.

It was an embrace that meant more than a thousand words, expressing all our love, our struggle, and our resilience.We remained wrapped in each other's arms, in the silence of the forest on set, while the world around us continued to turn. It was a moment of pure vulnerability and reconnection, a moment we would both cherish in our hearts forever.

It was clear that those tears were tears of joy, gratitude, overcoming fear, and rediscovered love. In that moment, all that mattered was that we were together, embraced and united, ready to face whatever destiny had in store for us.

When Jenna lifted her face from my neck, her eyes shone with renewed intensity. Without saying a word, she began to kiss my face tenderly, leaving a mark of affection on every inch of skin she could reach.

Then, with a sigh full of love, her kisses became more intense and deep, ending on my lips with a passion that reflected her gratitude and the joy of having me close again.Our kisses grew more intense, conveying all the passion accumulated during our separation. I felt the warmth of her body against mine, as my hands gently caressed her back. Jenna responded with the same ardor, as if she wanted to completely merge with me.

Time seemed suspended as we lost ourselves in our embraces and kisses.

Then, slowly, we pulled apart, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes with an intensity that spoke louder than any words.

"Y/N," Jenna whispered, her breath still ragged with emotion. "I've missed you so much. I've wanted you so much."

My lips curved into a tender smile. "I've missed you too, Jenna. You don't know how much I've longed for this moment, to feel you close to me again."Jenna pulled me even closer, as if she wanted to make sure I was really there with her.

"I love you so much," she said sincerely, her brown eyes shining with love.

"I love you more than words can say," I replied firmly, squeezing her hand against my heart. "And I'm here to fight for us, for as long as it takes."

Jenna nodded slowly, a tear of happiness sliding down her cheek.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," she said, her voice moved. "I promise I'll always be here for you."

We embraced again, our hearts beating in unison. In that moment, I knew we were stronger together, ready to face any challenge that came our way.

I would never give up on Jenna, never.

[mydearesthrry]

honeyed bliss - h.s.

a/n: hi! here’s another one. post hslot harry, and dadrry, which should be a warning in itself. enjoy!

🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff, ITALYRRY AND DADRRY. im a wreck.

🐇 pairing: husband!dad!harry styles x fem!reader

💐 wc: 800

“Babe, can you come here? I need to tan, but I can't get the tanning lotion on my back.” Y/N shouted sweetly to her husband, voice soft as she turned on her tummy. 

“Yeah m’love, give me two seconds. ‘M cutting up some watermelon for Daisy.” He called back, standing at the drink bar, a knife in his hand as he watched his daughter toddle around in the small area that he stood in. Daisy knocked on the doors that were in the square, knocking on the door to exit as she babbled quietly to herself. 

“Mumma, want mama,” Daisy pouted, perking up when she heard her moms voice. She stumbled a bit when she turned around to look at her dad with pleading puppy dog eyes, her axis of gravity not perfect quite yet. 

“Oh, y’want mama, baby? Okay, let’s get y’to mama.” Harry plucked her up off the ground and hiked her up onto his hip, scooping a couple blocks of watermelon into a yellow bowl. Harry pushed open the door to the drink bar, walking over to his wife who was laying down on a beach chair. His wife turned onto her side, reaching out for her baby who was already squirming in her dads arms. 

“Hi baby! You wanna come lay down with mama? Wanna sunbathe?” Y/N turned on her mom voice, babying her daughter. 

“Mama, mama, mama,” Daisy giggled, patting her mom’s face, a wide smile on her face, looking almost identical to Harry down to the dimples. 

“God, H. I can’t believe I birthed her, held her in my stomach for months, the whole nine yards, and she just looks exactly like you. Like, not even an inch of me in here. She’s got her Daddy’s curly hair, pretty green eyes, and cute little dimples… Don’t you, Dais?” She smiled, turning onto her back to place her baby on her thighs, Daisy’s head coming up to rest on her knees, her legs laying on her torso. 

“Guess so, m’love, but don’t worry, she still loves her Mumma waaaay more than her Daddy.”  Harry comments, munching on watermelon on the beach chair next to you. She turns her head to him and raises an eyebrow, and he smiles sheepishly. 

“Sorry,” he scratches his nose awkwardly. “I didn't mean that.” 

“Good, y’know she loves you just as much as she loves me.” She gave him a stern look, and he could see her eyes through her sunglasses. 

“Yeah, I know. Bad joke, didn’t land. Tough crowd, eh?” He smiled sheepishly. 

“Mmm, guess comedy isn’t for you, hm? Better stick to singing, pretty boy.” Y/N muttered before bringing her baby up to her chest, pressing small butterfly kisses to her head. 

“M’sweet girls, prettiest girls ever,” Harry grins, pulling your phone from underneath the throw pillow your head was resting on, snapping a few precious pictures. “Can’t believe ‘M so lucky.” 

Twisting his back to look behind him, he reached out to switch the bowl of watermelon for the camcorder, turning it on and recording his wife and daughter, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Today is July 26, 2023, a couple of days after the final Love On Tour show, and we’ve just gotten home to the Styles Villa in the Amalfi Coast of Italy. Here we have Mama and baby bunny in their most rawest forms,” Harry narrated, a grin on his face when he heard a sweet giggle emit from his wife’s chest. “Baby bunny’s sporting a cute swim set gifted to her from her favorite uncle, Uncle Alessandro, and Mama’s wearing a Gucci swim set as well, looking as beautiful as ever with the most beautiful and glowy skin-”

“H, shut up!” She guffaws, placing an embarrassed hand on her face. “Dais is gonna watch these one day and be scarred by the way you’re talking about me.”

Harry turns the camera so it’s on his face, “Little Daisy, if you’re watching these right now in the future, never settle for less than how I treat Mama. Y’deserve to be treated like a queen, m’soul, never ever settle for less.”

He flips the camera around again to face his girls, catching a tail end of YN’s eyeroll on camera. “Yes, sweet girl. I agree with Daddy, never settle for less.” She places more sweet kisses on Daisy’s head, cooing with Harry when a soft snore leaves their baby’s lips.

“Well, since y’asleep now, I think that’s a good place to leave it. We love you, Daisy. Byeeeee!” Harry waves, turning in his seat to have the camera face him and his small family. YN giggles and blows kisses, waving until Harry turns off the camera.

“We’ve got it good, Lovie.” He smiles, leaning forward to peck a kiss to her cheek, her temple, and then one on her lips, being cautious of the sleeping baby on her chest.

“Yes, we do.”

[chxxrybxxmb]

: ̗̀➛ Met the professionals

Synopsis: after winning the U-20 match, Ego starts planning the third phase of the project and you were requested to come back a few days earlier than the players for a quick briefing and to introduce you the new people that you would be working with.

Reader is 18.

Warnings: fem!reader, English and Japanese honorifics, swearing, reader has a little brother, suggestive comment, reader wears a dress and has makeup on, flirting, hottest dilfs alive and Micheal Kaiser.

Ego in his sugar daddy era???

“How’re you, Ego-San? I hope that you’ve been eating well for the past two weeks since I wasn’t here to cook for you.” You grinned kindly at your boss, entering the high tech office. Placing your handbag on the table, Ego doesn’t look at you and continues to immerse himself in important data.

“What’re you my mother? I don’t need you to look after me.”

“If I don’t look after you, who’ll make Japan win the World Cup?” You sassed. Approaching the table the looked at the holographic data floating mid air. You still wonder to yourself how much money went into this and how high tech this all was.

“Anri-San told me over the phone that I should come back a few days earlier than the players, when I tell you that those boys-”

“Ah, ah.” He raises his hand over to your mouth, stopping you from saying anything and you huffed, sitting on the tables edge. “Alright, tell me-” A holographic screen slides to your direction, revealing the information before you.

“The third phase of this match is called the Neo Egoist League. Where players pick a team that matches their skills. This phase will introduce a variety of investments, including high salaries, various offers from different teams all over Europe to play in their leagues, and so many more,” you click on the icon, Germany and saw the familiar face of the one who beat Messi in a match from three years ago.

“Noel Noa…?”

“Oh, yeah. The teams the players will choose are England, Germany, Italy, France, and Spain. Each European team is an S-class team led by the most exceptional strikers…I think you already know them.” Cue for the familiar faces of famous football players to come into the screen. Chris Prince, Lavinho, Noel Noa, Marc Snuffy, and the familiar face of Julian Loki.

“After the players pick their respective teams, they will be separated into different stratums or buildings. Anri-Chan will be sending you the rest of the details. Don’t embarrass yourself when you’re up close with them.” He says, giving you a side eye as you stare at a picture of Snuffy. You immediately snapped back to your senses and swiped away the image of the Italian footballer.

“I-I won’t! What makes you say that?!” He huffs and pushes you off the table.

“Unpack your things and help the other staff with room preparations. You will be preparing for five teams with twenty plus players. Go away.” You huffed at him and fixed your clothes. “Can’t you be more gentle?! Geez!”

“What’s this?” You looked at the white box, wrapped with a black bow that Anri handed to you, she looks very excited you took notice. She beams at you as you placed it on the dining table.

“Open it! Ego-San got it for us.”

“That Vector look-a-like got us something? Are you sure he’s alright? Should I call a doctor?” You worried turned to the older woman. Cue for Ego to smack you on the back of you of your head with a file.

“Ow!”

“Be grateful, you waste of talent. I’m pretty sure you don’t have anything decent to wear.” He hissed, pointing at your working clothes and you gasped dramatically.

“These are my working clothes, asshat! I can’t run around working in a mini skirt.”

“Oh, come on, Ego-San. (Name)-Chan just got back and you’re already picking a fight with her!” Anri scolds the two of you, pulling both her boss and colleague apart before they tear each other apart. “Just open the gift and tell me if it fits. Don’t approach me if it isn’t your style.” Ego spoke, going into the kitchen to prepare himself yet another instant ramen packet.

“If it fits?” You thought a bit confused. Did he buy you clothes? Or maybe it’s a new staff uniform, either way, you pulled on the strands of the ribbon, making it come undone. You then lifted the cover and saw some white paper covering, Anri was squealing excited next to you. Moving away some of the wrapping, you soon realized that Ego had bought you a designer dress.

You took out the dress from the box and looked at it with eyes peeled open. Ego, your harsh boss, had bought you a dress that was totally your style and in your favorite color? Is the world ending?

“Omg, Ego-San, it looks beautiful on her, definitely (name)’s style!” Anri gushed at the man who didn’t respond. As you continued to admire the dress and its intricate appearance, Ego cleared his throat.

“Do the two of you have any jewelry?”

“I only brought a few earrings with me, nothing special.”

“The ones that I’m wearing, I don’t change into anything different unless it’s a special occasion.” You and Anri answered. You wondered why Ego bought you an expensive dress and asking you about jewelry, all he ever talked about was football not fashion.

“Ego-San, what’s with the dress? I don’t think I can wear this to anywhere and this must’ve been expensive!”

“Is that really what you have to say…?” You shut up and looked at Ego and his unusual behavior. He sounded a bit disappointed as he slurped on his noodles. You grinned at the realization and brought the dress to your chest.

“Thank you, Ego-San, truly.” You could’ve sworn you saw a smile on his face. “Are you smiling, Ego-San-?”

“Being delusional has its fucking limits, kid.”

“I may be delulu but my eyes aren’t lying, c’mon admit it, boss!” You continue to tease as he continues to deny your claims. Anri smiles at this interaction. For once you weren’t spouting insults at each other or trying to kill each other.

“Shut the fuck up and take this.” Ego had enough and tossed you and Anri small bags of yet again designer, products. You then looked at Ego and then at Anri. “In all seriousness, why’re you gifting us these and where did you get the money of all of this? Last I remembered, we ran out of funds cause of the second selection.”

“After winning the match, sponsors came flooding in to support the project. Hence the brands and how we’re able to afford those teams to collaborate with us.” Anri explains. Looking at the Selim Mouzannar box in her hands with bulging eyes. You had a similar reaction as her as you look at the Azlee brand necklace on your hands.

“You didn’t really have to buy us so much…”

“I wonder how much of this costs…”

“I only bought you both heels. The dresses, jewelry and makeup were gifts from the coaches.”

“…are they looking for a sugar baby?” Anri and Ego smacked you on the back of the head.

“You look so beautiful, (name)-Chan!!”

“Have you seen yourself, Anri-San? You look like you’re going to the met gala!” The red-haired woman blushes as your compliment. She wore a red satin floor length dress with off shoulders. You looked at yourself in the mirror and saw a different person. You looked even more beautiful with the makeup on with lips were colored in lipstick. Your dress hugged every curve of your body and the jewelry made you look mature and expensive.

All in all, you look like you were going to a ball. Like a Princess.

“You look like you’re going to throw up.”

“I… I’m scared I’m gonna ruin this dress, like, what if I accidentally spill food or drinks on me?!” You continued on with your nervous rant about possibly ruining the dress, she sighs and grabs you the shoulders, pushing her face closer to yours. “(Name)-Chan, nothing is going to happen to you or the dress! They gave you this dress and it’s your choice what to do with it.”

She reasons and you nodded tentatively. She smiles and picked up her handbag, so did you.

“I’m amazed Ego-San wanted to host a welcome party of the teams.”

“I was actually the JFU who arranged this occasion.” You looked at Anri as if she grew a second head and laughed uncertainly. “Ahaha… really?”

“Really.”

“Like… really, really?” She nods and you scoffed. “Now that he lost our little bet, he’s sucking up to us? Serves him right for doubting us.”

“Oh, you should’ve seen how Ego-San reacted when the president told him about hosting a welcome party!” Hand in arm, the two women were immersed in their conversation as they walked down the dystopian-core hallways of blue lock and exited the premises where a wagoneer jeep waited in the entrance.

“I think Ego-San is indulging himself a little bit too much.”

“That car was sent by the JFU, dumbass.” Ego sighs as he walked out from the glass doors, clad in a navy blue suit with a bolo football tie. He didn’t look all that much to different from his usual getup. The suit was reminiscent of the one he wore in the U-20 match.

You immediately noticed at the bolo tie was a little loose and went in front of him, taking a hold of the tie. Ego seemed surprised at the sudden closeness and pulled away.

“What the hell?”

“Stand still, your tie looks sloppy…” You murmured, tightening it. Ego sighs and lifts his head a little to give you space, Anri smiles in amusement at this rare moment between the two of you. Like a daughter fixing her fathers tie before he goes off to work. It was adorable in her opinion.

You pulled away and looked pleased with Ego’s appearance with a smile. “Let’s go?”

“Let’s.”

You looked at awe at the building where the welcome party was taking place. You initially thought it was going to be at blue lock but apparently JFU didn’t deem your building fancy enough and held the welcome party at a five star hotel. As you wrapped your arm around Anri’s forearm, you peered through the city of Tokyo from the glass window of the elevator. It looked like a sparkling jewelry box from up there. The doors open and Anri pulls you along with her.

Anxiety emptied your stomach as your hands grew sweaty around Anri’s plushy arm. The older woman looks at you with a gentle smile that made your worries go away. You then looked Ego who had his hands on the large doors in front of you three, he looks at the two of you and you nodded confidently.

Ego pushes the doors open and you were welcomed by a flood of overlapping chatter, elegant women dressed in designer clothing and men stood tall and erect in their identical-looking suits. The hall looked massive with a balcony on the right side of the room.

Everyone stopped with what they were doing and bore their eyes into the three of you. Now you felt like you were going to throw up if they continue to stare at you any longer.

“If it isn’t the mastermind behind this amazing project!” You heard a boisterous voice boom your ears. You looked up and saw the fat rodent that is the president of the JFU waddling his way towards your direction. The feeling of nausea was replaced with disgruntled feeling as you held on Anri’s arm a little tighter.

“Chairmen, thank you for arranging this welcome party for the teams.” Ego thanked the bloated tanuki. He was uncharacteristically polite. Your brows furrowed deeper and the corners of your mouth tilts down as he glanced at you and Anri, he gulps and looks back the bull-cut-haired man.

“I-it’s the least we can do. Because with blue lock, I know we can win the World Cup with your guidance!” He spoke and the others in the room erupted in praises and applause.

“We’ll be doing our best to do so. Thank you for financially supporting our project.” Anri replied with a light bow and so did you, “I’ll be supporting the players as best as I can since I’m the manager and all of that.”

The chairmen then usher the three of you to the rest of the JFU members for some reason. You didn’t talk all that much and looked around the banquet hall, “tell me, (name)-Chan. How the players generally act?”

“Generally act?”

“What’s their behavior towards the other players? I’m quite curious.” One of the members asked. You tried to think of an answer without revealing the fact that everyone is at each other's throats, “well, they remain respectful to each other, off and on the field,” that was a bit of a lie considering Isagi calling Baro a donkey mid-game.

“They work hard and dedicate themselves, body and soul to the sport. They accept defeats to grow better not only as a player but as a person.” You replied truthfully this time, fiddling with the fabric of the dress. They took your word for it and seemed intrigued by your answers with nods and hums.

“And how do they act towards you? Since you’re one of the many female managers after all.” They smirked with suggestion. You sucked in the corner of your bottom lip to avoid snapping at him. What was even going through their sick heads? Do they want this project to end with just one sexual speculation?

“Respect… we maintain a distance that is manager and player. We don’t have a rather close and intimate relationship with each other.” That was a bit of a lie. The players acted relatively close to you but still maintained a respectable presence with you.

Aryu runs his hands in your hair while complimenting your makeup and outfit. Chigiri would ask you to play with his hair. You were terrible at it, but he didn’t mind. Otoya would constantly flirt and ask for your number. Karasu and Yukimiya would save you from him. Baro, Kunigami, and all the other boys would try to pitch in to help you. Bachira would always hug you whenever you entered the room. Nagi trails behind you like a lost puppy, along with Reo, who would talk your ear off about the stock market and ask you to go out on a date with him once he’s out of blue lock.

And so many more, the boys acted like you were friends at school which made you feel comfortable with your stay and you really appreciated the boys and their behavior towards you.

“Is that so? Nothing-?”

“Hey, shithead. Do you think it’s a good idea to ask a girl who's 18 if she’s having intimate relations with a bunch of guys who are 18 and below? That’s fucking disgusting.” Ego spat in a whisper to the man as he pulled you by the wrist and hid you behind him. Your eyes widen as well as the JFU member, and he stammers out an apology that Ego didn’t take so kindly.

You looked up at Ego as he glared in disgust at the man. With your heart beating against your chest as if it wanted to break free, sweat pooling into the palm of your heads, you pulled on Ego’s cuffs, and he turned his attention towards you.

“Ego-San, let’s not cause a scene…” you whispered lowly, gesturing to your side. Spectators were turning their heads at the three of you, who were drawn to what you were discussing. Ego looks at you, then back at the man. There was an unreadable expression on his face before he clicked his tongue and gestured for you to follow him.

“Don’t show your putrid face to me or my staff.” He hissed before walking away from the man with eyes following your every move like owls, but one look from Ego, and they returned to their conversations.

“Ego-San… thank you for doing that. I greatly appreciate it.” You spoke, pulling on the mans wrist. He stops and looks at you before flicking your forehead. “The hell?!”

“Be more careful next time when you encounter nosey pigs like him-”

“So you do have a heart in there, Jinpachi Ego.” You heard a voice state amused from behind. You couldn’t understand what he was saying. It sounded like German. You whirled around and saw the mystery man.

It was Noel Noa. Clad in a suit and bow tie. He had a stoic and serious expression with an ever-present frown on his lips, gold eyes dull into Ego’s obsidian pair of eyes before he shifted his focus to you and then back to him. When both your eyes met, you felt your heart rate go faster than ever before.

It was the Noel Noa. In the flesh! The greatest striker in the world, standing in front of you!!

You have seen this man in your television or phone but seeing him in the flesh was whole new experience.

‘Omg, omg, omg, omg, omg, omg-’

“What’s that supposed to mean, you stoic robot?” Ego hissed in German. You looked back and forth between the two. They seemed to know each other, you observed as they casually conversed with each other. “Seeing how you stood up for your female employee is out of character. I thought you weren’t Ego when I saw you.”

“Do you know each other, Ego-San?”

“In a way. Wear these. You’ll need it when communicating with the other coaches.” Ego fished out a small black box that had Blue Lock’s symbol on it. You took it from his grasp and opened the box. There were black wireless earbuds.

“Earbuds?”

“Reo Mikage’s family had decided to sponsor Blue Lock and give us one of their products. That being translator earbuds, it’s light and won’t come off no matter how much you move around, and it’s hardly noticeable.” You wore it, and it almost felt unnoticeable. You then turned to the striker and slight bow.

“What is Ego Jinpachi like at work, Ms.Manager?” You were a little shocked, hearing him speak so clearly in Japanese with a believable accent. These earbuds are something else.

“O-oh, well. He can very harsh and would constantly criticize you for the littlest thing.”

“That’s accurate enough.”

“You damn brat.”

“I’m (name) (last name), Mr.Noa. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“I’ve heard many things about you from Ego.”

“Good or bad?”

“A bit of both.” You sighed hearing his quick response.

“Although, he often notes how you go above and beyond with your work despite being so young,” Noa mentioned—taking a sip of his champagne. You worked up hearing his statement and looked at Ego, who didn’t meet your eyes.

“Ego-San sometimes shares with me his instant noodles and such.” On occasion, when you would be busy with your work, Ego would always make you some instant noodles for a snack to go with your work. It touched your heart as he did care for you after all. (Before he berates you for doing absolutely nothing)

“How… amusing.” Noel glances at his friend, whose eyes softened by a fraction. The striker was quick to take a champagne glass from a waiter's tray and hand it to you.

“Ms. (Last name), you wouldn’t mind if you left your boss and me alone for a while? So we can talk a little about this passion project of his.”

“Of course, have fun.” You whispered before walking away from the two men, placing a hand above your beating heart, and your lips formed a shaky smile—excitement and adrenaline running through your veins. You did your darn best to keep your smile under wraps in favor of showing a calm and professional side of you to the man himself.

“I need to tell Anri-San about this—!” You spun your head from left to right to find the red-haired woman, but you saw her surrounded by sponsors, with Anri conversing seriously with them.

You decided to calm your excitement down and walked around the ballroom. You had to admit, this was something you would see in a movie. The piano was playing in the middle room; you were drawn to its alluring melody, and before you knew it, you were in front of the grand piano while admiring pianist playing.

“Are you into classical music, Miss?” A man purrs into your ear from behind. You recoiled away upon feeling a person's hot breath against your ear. “Haha! Didn’t mean to scare you there, lovely.”

The man had short, curly blond hair, sapphire blue eyes and a mole in the corner of his right lip. He had a well-built body, the suit fitting snuggly in his body. He was taller than you, your head level with his chest.

“I don’t think it’s good manners to suddenly whisper into someone’s without even introducing yourself.” You retorted lightly at the man, and he raised his hands in a playful gesture. “Sorry, miss. I thought I saw a diamond in the corner of my eyes.”

He confessed with a lazy grin. You sighed softly at his attempt at flirting, and you looked back at him. He seemed familiar like you’d seen him before.

“Maybe it’s because of my necklace.”

“I wouldn’t think that if I were you, lovely.” He winks at you, you left a bit uncomfortable with him. “Umm, I just turned 18, I’m not that to comfortable with someone older by a few years older than me…”

“Ahahaha!! Just wait until the fans see this, Chrissy!” A boisterous voice boomed from across the room. A man with tanned skin and wild blond hair, swung his arm over to Chrissy. He wore a black suit with a gold blouse, some of the buttons undid to reveal his chest tattoos.

“You were the one who told me to do it! Miss, I am truly sorry.”

“No, he’s not. He was, like ‘dude, check out that girl with in that dress, she super fine, ‘m gonna go talk to her and hold my drink.’ Basically.” The man matter of factly. Chrissy’s jaw dropped and looked at you who was trying to process this information.

“Lavinho, you’re this worst!”

Wait, Lavinho? As in that famous Brazilian dribbler? Whose representing the Spanish team Barcha?

“You’re… Lavinho?” You spoke and the man turns to you before grinning ear-to-ear. He took your hand and bowed.

“In the flesh, pretty lady! Man, am I lucky to have gorgeous woman like you to know my name. It’s an honor.” He boasts to himself before he grabbed his friend by the arm.

“By the way, this is Chris Prince! But call him Chrissy, though, it’s cute right? Chrissy, Chrissy~”

“Oh my gosh, can you stop? You’re embarrassing me in front of her!” Chris Prince, commonly known as worlds no.2, whispered harshly into Lavinho’s ear, who blew raspberries into his face.

“Oh my gosh, are you immature!” You couldn’t help but laugh at their shenanigans. You never expected them to be this carefree in person. It was fun!

“Let’s calm down now.” You cooed at them, trying to stop Chris from pulling on Lavinho’s collar. “What the lady said, Chrissy. Calm down.”

“I am calm!”

“Says who?”

As Chris was about to strangle Lavinho, you hurriedly took him by the arm and tried to anchor him down with your body weight.

“Let’s calm down! We wouldn’t want to attract too much attention now, do we?” You stammered nervously as the crowd’s eyes were on the three of you. How many times has it already been since the attention was suddenly focused on you.

“You heard the lady, Princey-”

“That includes you, Mr.Lavinho.” He looks at you with shock and Chris glanced at Lavinho with a victorious smirk.

“He’s such a wild person, isn’t he, lovely?”

“A little bit.”

“What?!”

“But not in a bad way.”

“I knew I could trust in you, pretty lady!” Lavinho laughed as he slamming his palms on your shoulders making you wince.

“I hope you can forgive me for that initial greeting, miss?”

“Oh, right. I never introduced myself! My name is (name) (last name) and I’m the manager of Blue lock. It’s a pleasure meeting you both, Mr.Lavinho and Mr.Prince. And it’s alright, Mr.Prince. You didn’t do anything if offense anyway. You briefly introduced yourself with a bow and a smile.

“Oh~! So you’re the woman glasses mentioned we would be working with! Nice to meet you too. Hope we can work together soon!” Lavinho grinned as did Chris.

“Are you a model by any chance? I mean, you have the potential one.” Chris asked curiously. Your posture and beauty were very much similar to models. He would know as he posed with some female models in the past.

“I actually did some modeling jobs when I was 16. Although I’m currently on a break.”

“Ha! I knew it! A beautiful girl like you would be scouted sooner or later. Hey, how about we do a shoot-?”

“She told you she was taking a break from the cameras, Chris.” Another man reminded to the English man with a sigh as he came from behind you and smiled at you apologetically. He had short blond hair and large emerald green eyes with a very well defined nose.

“I’m so sorry about him, Ms.(name). Please don’t let him bother you.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind doing a shoot with him.”

“See?! It’s almost impossible to say no to this handsome face.” Chris laughs. Pulling out a hand mirror and admires himself, smiling at the mirror and winking at himself.

“Is he… usually like that?”

“Sadly.”

“You seem to know me.”

“I happen to overhear you introducing yourself, my name is Marc Snuffy. Call me Snuffy. It’s a pleasure meeting one of Blue Lock’s beautiful managers.” Snuffy grinned kindly at you making your heart skip a beat.

“Beautiful? Now, I think that’s a stretch!”

“Not what the posts say about you.” He laughs lightly, pulling out a phone to reveal screenshots of a Tiktok comment section filled with compliments and love towards you.

“I must say, the media quite likes you after those little videos with you and Pablo Cavasoz dancing.” You glowered in embarrassment as you remembered the famous baby-face Argentina player, who was mysteriously drawn to you and dragged you to Harajuku with you to film Tiktok dance video’s in the middle of the street or inside the stores and to go shopping.

Never again were you going to be bribed with food and a promise of manicures.

“I-I’m honestly flattered that you think that way, Mr.Snuffy. Thank you. You’re Uber’s coach, right?”

"Correct and I hope my team wouldn't be too much of a trouble to deal with." He jokes lightly making you laugh.

"Have you seen my players? They would be at each other's throats if I look away for a couple of seconds! Like my Rin and Isagi for example."

"Considering the fact that your no.10 dodged a hug from 11... I'd say that their relationship is..."

"Rough? Absolutely."

"We all have those friends." You and continues to conversed at one another about your teams along with his. Snuffy is quite the gentleman you noted. Very polite and respectful.

"Yo, Snuffy. When're we gonna go back to the dorms, 'm tired." You heard someone complain. A man with messy black hair with purple tips and dark purple eyes, laid his head on the Uber's captain's shoulder with a sigh. You rubbed your eyes to wear off any drowsiness as you thought the man had gold teeth for a second.

"It's only 10 pm, Lorenzo and button up your shirt." Snuffy scolded Lorenzo who groaned but stopped midway as he saw you. "Who's this pretty lady, Snufs?"

"Her name is (name) and she's Blue Lock's manager. Be kind."

"Isn't she on the news one time? Like people thought she was Pablo's girlfriend or stuff." You sunk on the floor in embarrassment, remembering the countless news articles that you were his girlfriend. You even got a call from your father who was pissed at you for keeping your not-boyfriend a secret.

"Erm, I'm actually not his girlfriend... hehe, it was an misunderstanding."

"Huh, really?"

"Yup, the media assumed that we were dating just from a few videos of us dancing and doing some sightseeings around Harajuku."

"I see. So yer gonna be our new manager?"

"As far as I know, yea."

"Let's be friends then! Snuf, 'mma borrow her real quick." Lorenzo immediately went towards you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and waved goodbye at Snuffy who told the two of you to have fun.

"Names Don Lorenzo but just call me whatever you want since we're gonna be friends and all."

"Alright, Mr-"

"And no Mister and all that title shit, just call me Lorenzo or whatever- oh! Snuffy does call me Donny at times."

"So is Lorenzo alright with you?"

"Totes." Lorenzo was quite the character. He's friendly and a laidback type of guy, you felt at ease just by being with him as you started to slip from your professional mode. You were enjoying yourself with Lorenzo as the two of you conversed with other topics other than football.

"By the way, are this gold grills on your teeth?" You asked curiously. The two of you were seated a couch with a plate of crackers, cheese and caramel popcorn. He stops eating the popcorn and pulled on the corner of his mouth to give you a full view of his gold teeth.

"These babies? Nah, before all of this, i was some homeless kid on the streets of Italy, begging and robbin' people of their money until Snuffy came into my life askin' me if I wanna play football with him,"

"I was like, 'what's up with this dude? He crazy as fuck,' so then I was like 'replace my rotten teeth with golden ones' and do you know what he did afterwards?"

"He immediately dragged you to the nearest dentist and had it replaced with gold teeth?"

"Exactly! You're so smart." Lorenzo praises, throwing popcorn in the air and caught some with his mouth while also missing some, which you then picked up from the couch and ate it so it won't go to waste.

"Who knew that Mr.Snuffy is such a kind man."

"Kindest in the world. He's the type of person to not give up on others just cause." The player says fondly. You grabbed your champagne glass and felt it was unusually light, you then saw that it was empty. "I'm out of champagne. I'll go grab some more."

"Nah, I'll do it. You sit your pretty self here."

"Thanks but I can handle it, Lorenzo." You pat his shoulder before taking off with your empty glass and towards the bar for a quick refill.

You arrived at the bar and leaned against the counter. "Excuse me but can I get a refill in champagne? Non-alcoholic if there is."

"In a second."

"Can I get a martini?" Someone ask beside you. You glanced at them saw the familiar fluffy hair of brown to purple beside you.

"Are you... Alexis Ness from Bastard Munchen, by any chance?" The man beside you perks up upon hearing his name and turned to you with a nod and a kind grin.

"Yes and you're?"

"(Name) (last name). One of Blue lock's managers. It's nice to see you this evening, Mr.Ness."

"Please no need to call me Mister, just call me Ness and the pleasure is all mine.”

“Ness it is then. About that match with (club name), you did a good job out there.” You praise the player. You watched his match with (club name) a few weeks ago and was amazed at Ness’s clean assist and passes to a star player in his team.

“Really? I didn’t do all that much, it was all-”

“Why would you say that? Your assists were clean and quick. Not even the other players knew you would do it.” You interrupted Ness, and you meant every word you said. He looks at you in shock before red soon blossoms on his cheeks.

“You really think so?”

“Yea, although… I do have a tiny teeny problem…” Ness frowns upon hearing your last words. He had hoped he would gain a fan after all his hard work, but it seemed his efforts-

“That you didn’t score any goals!” Now that left him confused.

“E-excuse me?”

“You’re obviously a great player with amazing dribbling and passing skills, so why don’t you use it score your own goals? I mean, seriously, I hoped you would score that last goal before you passed to number 10.” You went on a little rant, and Ness stood there in awe with your words.

You weren’t focused with Kaiser but instead your attention was on Ness and even wanted him to score goals!

His heart started to beat even faster when you were praising his work and sets of skills. Ness looked up and got a good look at you, he had to admit, you were very beautiful in that dress.

“Kaiser is Bastard Munchen’s Ace so we dedicate all of the goals towards him.”

“But isn’t that letting your own skills go to waste? You’re hindering yourself just so that your number 10 can win. How about this?” You grabbed Ness by the arm and sat him on the stools, and you sat across him. Leaning towards his shoulder, you narrowed the distance of your lips to his ears. Ness’s heartbeat grew increasingly erratic as you drew closer. He felt your hot breath against the shell of his ear and smelled the perfume in your skin, blending with the champagne you were drinking.

“Your ace knows that you would be passing to him for every game, no?”

“Yes…”

“And I’m also sure that the rest of your team along with Mr.Noa would be aware of this fact. What I’m trying to say is that,”

“When trying to pass to your beloved Ace, change course and score the goal for yourself. I’m sure the opposing team would also know about your play style. Therefore, they would surround your ace to prevent a successful pass from approaching him.” You explained with a mischievous smile after seeing Ness’s shocked expression. Gone was his ear-to-ear grin as it was replaced with an open mouth.

“B-but Kaiser-”

“So what about him? He can score his own goals if he’s your so-called ace. Ness, you’re an amazing player, but you lack the independence of one or, rather… the ego of one. Omg… I’m starting to sound like Ego-San.” You pulled away from Ness and seriously contemplated your words. Ness, however, was silent as he let your words sink deep into his consciousness. You looked at Ness’s blank face, and yours swelled in embarrassment.

He probably didn’t understand your rambling. Even when you thought you sounded cool saying it!! You stood hastily after the bartender finally refilled your drink and cleared your throat.

“I probably wasn’t making any sense. This is more on Ego-San’s department. Forget I said anything, Ness-”

“No… I was hoping you could explain more about this ego. Please… I want to learn more about it, Ms.(name).” Ness took hold of your wrist and slightly tightened his grip on you. His tone… it sounded like he was begging you.

You stared at the B.M player with a conflicting mindset as you looked between your drink and Ness.

“So this is why my drink has been taking a long time. I didn’t know you were busy flirting with a girl, Ness.” A man purrs condescendingly as he struts towards you both. Ness reluctantly lets go of your wrist and looks shamefully to the side. “So-”

“And who is this lovely lady keeping you company, hm?” The man in front of you grinned at Ness. He had blond hair styled into a long mullet with blue fades. He wore a dark blue suit and matched it with a tie. Something was peeking from his collar, but you couldn’t determine what it was, probably a tattoo or something.

“(Name) (last name), one of the managers of Blue Lock, and I take it that you’re Kaiser?” His smile grows as his name rolls out from your tongue, and he takes your hand, fluttering his lips over your knuckles before he firmly presses his lips on your knuckles.

“Micheal Kaiser, das Fräulein. Star player of Bastard Munchen.” The Ace says matter-of-factly with a grin, and you smile at him uncomfortably, looking at the area where he kissed.

“Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew.” You repeated in your head as you tried to pull back your hand, but Kaiser gripped you as he incoherently conversed with Ness.

“I take it that you know Blue Lock’s Ace: Isagi Yoich? That plain looking guy.” Your lips turned into frowns hearing him describe your friend.

“Yes. Is there something you wanted to ask him?”

“Oh no, I was just making sure that you were his specific manager. After all, I would want him to look at your face once I humiliate him.”

“Excuse me?” You honestly expected Kaiser to be a prideful person. That was for sure. But for him to straight up admit his intentions in front of you? Now, that was a bold him.

“I think you heard me, (name). I plan to make Isagi Yoichi, the hero of Blue Lock, an obstacle for me to overcome. Make sure he’s worthy of that title.” Kaiser requested you like it was a normal thing to ask. As your glare towards him hardened, Kaiser couldn't care less. You slowly exhaled, placed your glass gently, and pushed yourself towards him.

“As you wish, I’ll make sure Isagi Yoichi will be an impossible obstacle for you to overcome.” Now it was his turn to be annoyed as he took his vacant hand and roughly grabbed your upper arm to pull you closer. His face was nearing yours with a cocky snarl.

“Is that a threat?”

“A promise, rather.”

“To think that Blue Lock would have such a feisty manager, I wonder how Jinpachi Ego leashed you.”

“Leashed me? Do you think I’m some kind of dog?!”

“Oh, I know! You’re the character who blindly placed her fate into the clown who thought of himself as the main character, but that’s going to change once I step into the field,” he removes his grip from your upper arm and clasps his hand around your jaw to pull your face even closer to his. You instinctively tried to tear away, but his strength proved greater than yours.

“I could just imagine what dear Isagi’s face will look like once I humiliate him in front of his pretty manager.”

“As if that would happen.” You rasped, trying to pry his hand away from your face. As Ness was about to intervene finally, Lorenzo came into sight, taking hold of Kaiser’s wrist with a deadly grip, his gold teeth shining against the light, and the Italian let out a whistle in amusement.

“Damn, Kaiser… never you would act like a dick if a girl don’t wanna be with ya.”

“Where did you come from, you damn zombie?”

“Wonderin’ where (name) was at, said she was goin’ to refill her drink. Didn’t know you were holding her hostage.” The two-star players glared at each other in disdain. Kaiser started to feel the blood being cut off from his hand and he rips away his grip from your face. You stepped back and massaged your jaw.

“Are you alright, (name)? I’m sorry I couldn’t-”

“It’s alright. I expected he act like this. Fucking prick.” You huffed, drinking your champagne as Ness looks ashamed.

“Honestly… I should’ve intervened when he grabbed you by the arm. I’m so sorry-”

“Ness, Ness, baby, love.” You sweet-talked and grabbed his jaw gently. (Unlike someone) “It’s alright, I get it. We all freeze sometimes, even I do. So you don’t gotta worry about it, okay?” You smiled. Expecting him to agree with you and let all of this be over with. He tentatively nodded, and you let go of his jaw before turning to the bartender. “Actually, can I get the bottle?”

Before the bartender could hand you the bottle, Lorenzo snatched it from him, took you the waist and led you away from the bar, making a mocking face at Kaiser.

“See ya in the field, naked emperor!” The Italian player laughs as he waves and pours you a drink. You turned to Ness and gave him a smile and wave, which he returned. You met Kaiser’s glare and returned it with a glare and a middle finger.

“Is he always so arrogant?”

“24/7, babe. 24/7.” Lorenzo sighs, patting your shoulder. “Hey, your lipstick… Kaiser must’ve smudged it.” He stares at the colored streak nearing your jaw. You placed your finger on it and saw the colored stain on your finger. You hissed at the sight and covered the lower half of your face.

“Damn that rat. Lorenzo, I’ll be back. Need to fix myself.”

“Sure, I’ll be on the couch!” He removed his arm, and you speed-walked through the crowd towards the hallway where the servers were going in and out. You swiftly dodged the waiters that’s were carrying snacks and drinks, you saw a waiter who seemed to be on break, seeing that she was on her phone.

“Excuse me, miss. Where’s the bathroom?” She looks up from her phone and points at the direction where to go.

“Second to the last door on the left.”

“Thanks.” And with that you immediately took off.

During the trip toward the bathroom, you recalled your rather eventful evening. A JFU member asking disgusting questions, Ego saving you, meeting Noel Noa, Chris Prince flirting with you, Lavinho laughing at Chris, Marc Snuffy appearing, Don Lorenzo whisking you away from the night, meeting Ness and getting harassed(?) by Micheal Kaiser.

And here you thought you would be the loner who escaped from the party to the safe haven that was the balcony. So much for that, at least. As you wiped the stain away, you were quick to reapply a new batch on your skin but before you exited the bathroom, you took a few photos of yourself for good measure and sent a few to your brother to let him decide which ones should you post as you were indecisive.

[You sent 15 photos]

You: which one of these do I look the prettiest?

Little demon: none

You: what if I tell Ma and pa?

Little demon: Your alrd pretty tho but for me 1 4 9 and 13 are the best ones

You: I know I’m pretty. I’ll be positing these soon after party

Little demon: don’t post. Dress is revealing. I can see your BOOBS

You: only a little :(

Little demon: what if I tell Ma and pa?

You: I hate you

Little demon reacted: 👍

You huffed seeing your younger brothers weak response and before you could text something back, you bumped into someone’s side.

“Sorry- (name)?” The man spoke, and you looked up to find the black French player in front of you wearing a suit paired with a bow tie. You lit up seeing the player and tucked away your phone to give him a big hug.

“Loki!! Oh my gosh, how’re you?”

“I’m fine. It’s good to see you again after a couple of weeks. Mr.Pablo has been bombarding me with texts asking for your socials. That man won’t give up.” He sighs as he pulls away from you, and you laugh.

“You might have you endure that for a little while longer, Loki dear.” He sighs again and you took him by the arm and dragged him down the hall.

“I heard we’ll be working together again. Good luck to us then.” Loki says, patting your hand before giving you a kind smile, which you return. The two of you reentered the ballroom and went your separate ways. Loki said he couldn’t leave his team alone as they would likely cause a scene without him there.

“I’ll see you at work, peace maker.”

“Have a fun evening, (name).” Then you went back to where Lorenzo was sitting, spending the rest of the evening with the Italian, joking, judging other people, talking about your respective counties and your experience with football.

____________________________________________

This only took me 3 weeks to finish what a record 🙏

I hope you guys enjoyed this long ass fanfic, this was originally gonna be like 2 parts but then I decided to publish this a whole rather than separate parts.

Reblogs are much appreciated!! I love you all I hope you guys have a great day!

-@chxxrybxxmb

[muiitoloko]

Title: In-Flight Turbulence

Summary: Lionel’s exasperation over your economy class choice ignites a battle of wills, where fiery tension and steamy attraction are impossible to resist.

Pairing: Lionel Shahbandar × Fem! Reader

Warnings: implied sex

Author's Notes: A sequel that nobody asked for 😅

First and Second part here.

Also read on Ao3

Lionel’s voice was sharp as he crossed the room, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Are you bloody serious right now?” His baritone voice was low, tight with barely controlled anger. “Economy class? We’re going to Italy, love, not a quick bus ride to Manchester.”

You stood your ground, arms crossed, refusing to let him steamroll you. “Yes, economy class. Because that’s what I can afford, Lionel. I’m not going to let you pay for everything. I don’t need you to—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, why are you so bloody stubborn?” Lionel threw his hands up in exasperation, pacing the length of your small living room like a caged animal, his hooked nose flaring slightly. His frustration only seemed to magnify as he glanced at you, standing there with that determined look in your eyes—the one that made him want to tear his hair out and kiss you senseless all at the same time.

“I’m not being stubborn,” you said firmly, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m being practical. I don’t need to be coddled, Lionel. I’m not some girl you can impress with first-class tickets and five-star hotels.”

Lionel growled under his breath, his patience fraying by the second. “Oh, so now I’m just trying to impress you?” His words were laced with sarcasm as he stalked toward you, his broad shoulders blocking out the light. “Maybe I just want to spoil the woman I love without her turning it into a bloody battlefield every time.”

You flinched at the word ‘love,’ but you didn’t back down. “Spoiling me isn’t the point, Lionel. I want to contribute to this relationship too. And that means paying for my own damn plane ticket.”

He stopped directly in front of you, towering over you with that commanding presence that always seemed to fill the entire room. His dark eyes bore into yours, the frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Economy class? Economy?” he repeated, his voice dangerously low. “You expect me to sit in business class while you sit in the back with your knees crammed against the seat in front of you like some peasant?”

“If that’s what it takes,” you snapped back, your chin tilting up defiantly. “I don’t need luxury, Lionel. I need you to understand that I’m not some trophy for you to buy off with lavish gifts.”

Lionel’s jaw clenched, his hands flexing as if he was trying to hold himself back from grabbing you and shaking some sense into you. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he growled, his voice thick with frustration. “I could buy us both first-class tickets with the snap of my fingers, and yet here we are, having a bloody argument about it.”

You didn’t flinch, standing your ground. “Then go ahead. Buy your first-class ticket. I’ll be just fine in economy.”

His eyes flashed, and you could see the storm brewing behind them. Lionel Shahbandar was not a man used to being told no. He was used to getting his way, to charming or intimidating anyone into bending to his will. But not you. You were different. And that drove him wild.

“Fine,” he said, his voice dripping with a dangerous calm. “Fine. You want to be independent? You want to pay for your own way? Go ahead, love. But don’t come crying to me when you’re cramped up next to some sweaty businessman while I’m sipping champagne up front.”

Your eyes narrowed at his mocking tone, your temper flaring. “I won’t cry, Lionel. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

Lionel’s lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes were still dark with anger. “You’re so damn proud,” he muttered under his breath, stepping closer until his chest was nearly brushing against yours. “It’s infuriating.”

You could feel the heat of his body, the tension crackling between you like an electric current. But you refused to back down. “And you’re so damn controlling,” you shot back, your voice rising as you shoved him in the chest. “Why can’t you just let me have this? Why does everything have to be your way?”

His eyes flared, and before you could blink, his hands were on you, gripping your arms tightly as he backed you up against the wall. “Because I don’t want you to settle for less than you deserve,” he growled, his voice low and rough. His hooked nose was inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. “I want to give you everything, and you keep pushing me away.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could say a word, Lionel’s mouth was on yours, his kiss hard and demanding. His lips were rough, his tongue insistent as it parted your lips, claiming you with a fierce urgency that matched the anger still simmering between you.

You moaned into his mouth, your body reacting instinctively to the heat of him, the raw passion that always seemed to ignite whenever you fought. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to push him away.

Lionel’s hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he pressed his hard body against yours, grinding his arousal into you. “You drive me fucking insane,” he growled against your lips, his breath ragged as he kissed you harder, his teeth grazing your bottom lip.

You gasped, your nails digging into his back as his mouth moved to your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there. “Lionel…” you breathed, your resolve crumbling as his hand slid up your thigh, pushing your dress higher.

“You think I’ll let you sit in economy class?” he whispered harshly against your skin, his voice dark with lust as his fingers brushed against your underwear. “Not a fucking chance. I’m going to fuck you so hard on this trip, you won’t even remember there’s a back of the plane.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching into him as his hand slipped beneath your panties, his fingers finding the wet heat between your legs. You moaned, your head falling back against the wall as Lionel’s mouth covered yours again, his kiss hot and demanding.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered against your lips, his fingers teasing you, slipping inside you as his thumb rubbed slow, deliberate circles over your clit. “Why do you make everything so difficult?”

You whimpered, your hips rocking against his hand as he worked you with expert precision, your body already trembling with need. “Maybe I like driving you mad,” you whispered breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him.

Lionel growled, his cock hard and straining against his trousers as he thrust against you. “I’m going to fuck you so good, love,” he whispered, his voice rough with promise. “And when I’m done, you’ll be begging to sit in first class with me.”

Lionel stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching you as you joined the line for economy class check-in. His dark eyes narrowed in disbelief, the faintest of smirks playing on his lips as he shook his head.

"Bloody stubborn woman," he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his tousled hair. "If you want to be miserable, so be it." He didn’t care, he told himself. Not one bit. He made his way toward the sleek, velvet rope marking off the first-class check-in area, greeted by a beautiful woman with a professional smile who seemed all too eager to assist.

"Good morning, Lord Shahbandar," she purred, her eyes twinkling in recognition. "Right this way, we’ve been expecting you."

Lionel shot a glance back toward the long, winding queue of economy passengers where you were still standing, tapping your foot impatiently, your arms crossed as you waited your turn.

“Expecting me, are they?” he muttered to himself as he followed the woman, all the while his mind wandering back to you and that ridiculous line you were standing in. His jaw tightened in frustration as the woman behind the counter checked his passport. “Fine, let her suffer,” he thought, though a flicker of doubt gnawed at him.

After a swift and luxurious check-in experience, Lionel breezed through security, bypassing the crowds, and found himself sipping an espresso in the first-class lounge. He should have been reveling in the comfort, in the exclusivity that came with his wealth and status, but every now and then, his mind wandered to where you were.

"Probably still in line," he muttered, his lips curling into a half-smile as he imagined your annoyed expression. "Good luck with that."

Boarding time arrived, and Lionel strode confidently toward his business-class seat, eyeing the plush seats, the extra legroom, the polished wood tray table. It was everything you refused, and the fact that you’d chosen the cramped quarters of economy baffled him.

But as he settled into his seat, adjusting his cufflinks, something gnawed at him. The more he thought about you sitting in economy, the more it irritated him. His foot tapped impatiently, his mind wandering from the upcoming trip to the idea of you cramped next to some sweaty passenger, trapped in your tiny seat, and possibly… miserable.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, the frustration building. He didn’t even realize his hand was already in the air, summoning a flight attendant.

Moments later, Lionel was storming down the narrow aisle of the plane, his large frame awkwardly brushing against the backs of seats as he made his way to economy. He grumbled under his breath as he passed by each row, narrowing his eyes at the cramped conditions.

The woman seated next to you was politely asked to move, and though you hadn’t paid much attention, you noticed when Lionel Shahbandar himself suddenly appeared in the aisle, looking thoroughly out of place. He muttered curses about the “bloody cattle class” under his breath, his hooked nose flaring in irritation as he shoved his carry-on bag into the overhead bin.

“Lionel?” you said, blinking in surprise as he sat down next to you, clearly too large for the cramped seat.

He scowled, folding himself into the space beside you with no small amount of difficulty. “Don’t even start, darling,” he growled, his baritone voice dripping with exasperation. “I’ve just given up the best seat in the house to sit in this… this bloody shoebox with you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “You gave up business class? To sit here?”

Lionel muttered something under his breath, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to adjust his long legs in the tight space. “Yes, well,” he muttered, shooting you a sideways glance, “you should be thanking me. Some poor woman’s sitting in luxury now because of you.”

A laugh bubbled up inside you at the image of Lionel squirming in economy class, all his usual charm and arrogance completely misplaced in this setting. “I didn’t ask you to do that!” you said, barely able to contain your amusement.

Lionel shot you a dark look. “I know, but seeing you in this… sardine can of a seat, I couldn’t bloody help myself.” He paused, his lips curling into a mischievous grin as his eyes flicked to the tight space between you. “Besides,” he purred, his voice dropping lower, “if I have to suffer, I might as well enjoy the view.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, right. I’m sure you’ll find plenty to enjoy stuck here in economy.”

Lionel made a face at you, his dark eyes narrowing playfully, but you only laughed softly and snuggled closer to him. Despite his constant complaining, you couldn’t deny that you were enjoying this—being close to him, wrapped in the warmth of his body, while he muttered under his breath about the cramped seats and pitiful snacks. You rested your head on his shoulder, a soft smile playing on your lips as he continued his rant.

“These bloody snacks,” Lionel growled, holding up a tiny bag of pretzels as if it were the ultimate insult. “What do they expect me to do with this? Feed a hamster?”

You stifled another laugh, knowing that while Lionel could be a rather stingy man when it came to certain things, this time, you had to agree with him. The airline’s meager offerings were a far cry from the lavish spreads he was accustomed to.

“I don’t know, darling,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow. “I think you could survive on pretzels for a few hours.”

Lionel scoffed, tossing the bag aside in disdain. “Please, if I wanted to starve, I’d go on one of those ridiculous detox retreats all the nouveau riche are obsessed with.”

You snuggled deeper into his side, feeling his body relax slightly as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. Despite his constant grumbling, you knew he loved having you near. The two of you spent the rest of the flight like that, with Lionel occasionally complaining about the seating or snacks, and you trying not to laugh at his misfortune. There was something strangely endearing about seeing him so out of his element.

When the plane finally landed, you both grabbed a taxi to the hotel, exhaustion settling over you from the long flight. As soon as you arrived, you collapsed into bed together, the soft, plush mattress of the hotel room a welcome change from the horrors of economy class. It wasn’t long before both of you drifted off into a deep sleep, the tension of the day melting away.

Hours later, you were jolted awake by the sound of Lionel screaming in horror.

Your heart raced, panic flooding through you as you sat up in bed. “Leo! What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away, his face a mix of disbelief and fury as he held up his iPad, thrusting it toward you. “Look at this,” he snarled, his baritone voice thick with outrage.

You blinked, still half-asleep, but as your eyes focused on the screen, you saw it—pictures and videos of Lionel sitting in economy class, crammed into the tiny seat with a scowl on his face. Passengers had clearly recognized him, snapping photos and filming videos that were now plastered all over various gossip sites. Headlines like “Bad Boy of the Art World Slumming It in Economy Class—Is Lionel Shahbandar Broke? ” flashed across the screen.

“Oh no,” you murmured, trying to stifle a giggle. “They think you’re broke?”

“Broke?” Lionel hissed, his hooked nose flaring in indignation. “They think I’m some pauper, flying economy like I’ve lost my fortune overnight. This is a bloody insult!”

You couldn’t help it; a laugh bubbled out of you, despite knowing how much this was bruising his ego. “Oh, come on, Lionel. It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” he repeated, glaring at you as if you’d just suggested the unthinkable. “Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation? The Lord Lionel Shahbandar, flying economy like some commoner? I’m supposed to be untouchable, damn it!”

You bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face. “Well, at least they didn’t catch you complaining about the pretzels. That might’ve really sealed the deal.”

Lionel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is a bloody nightmare.”

“Leo, relax,” you said, scooting closer to him on the bed. “It’s just gossip. They’ll move on to the next scandal soon enough.”

He lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint as he smirked. “Oh, I don’t think so, love. They’ll milk this for all it’s worth.”

“Maybe you should’ve just stayed in business class like you planned,” you teased, poking him in the side. “Then your precious reputation wouldn’t be in shambles right now.”

Lionel growled playfully, grabbing you and pulling you onto his lap. “You’re the reason I ended up in that bloody sardine can of a seat,” he muttered, his lips brushing your neck. “I’ll make you pay for this, love.”

You arched an eyebrow, grinning as you looked down at him. “Oh? And how exactly are you going to make me pay?”

His eyes darkened with lust, and his hand slid up your thigh, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Let’s just say,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “I’m going to remind you exactly who you’re dealing with.”

Before you could respond, Lionel flipped you onto your back, pinning you beneath him as his lips claimed yours in a heated kiss. His hands roamed your body possessively, his touch firm and commanding as he ground his hips into yours, his arousal evident through the fabric of his trousers.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your lips, his baritone voice dripping with desire. “And by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be screaming my name so loud, they’ll be writing about something else entirely.”

You gasped as he nipped at your neck, his hands sliding beneath your clothes, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin beneath. “Lionel…”

“Mmm, that’s right, love,” he purred, his lips brushing against your ear. “Say my name. Let the whole bloody world know exactly who owns you.”

You moaned, your body arching into his as his hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your wet heat. “Lionel…”

“Good girl,” he growled, his fingers working you with expert precision, his eyes dark with lust as he watched your body respond to his every touch. “Now, let’s see if I can make you forget all about those bloody gossip sites.”

As Lionel’s lips trailed down your body, you couldn’t help but smile. Even in the face of public humiliation, he was still the same cheeky, mischievous lion you’d fallen for—arrogant, infuriating, and completely irresistible.

[kiiwiigii]

Abandoned

Demetri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Going to Italy over spring break was not what you had in mind, but Bella said she needed you. Until she didn't anymore, leaving you in the hands of a handsome vampire, who happens to be your mate.

Warnings:

Angst

Bella and the Cullens suck. (Ha ha. I'm so funny.)

Word Count: 1500+

Requested?: Yes!

heya thanks for answering my earlier ask about requests! Could I please request a demetri x reader angsty with fluff where they meet in new moon as reader tags along with bella to help and demtri is drawn to her cause theyre mates and volturi agree to let bella go and be turned later if the reader stays and reader is hurt that edward, bella and even alice agree to it so quickly so she feels abandoned and demetri works to earn her trust and comforts her about it at a later date? (If its too much or you end up tweaking it thats okay!!) <3

A/N: What kind of Volturi fic writer would I didn't do this trope? And for once it's not Alec-centric. I love it! Also, this is gonna be a two-parter.

I hated flying with a burning passion. But Bella insisted that I go with her for emotional support. I almost snapped at her to take Jacob instead. Emotional support animals were free after all. She just needed the paperwork.

Unfortunately, I don't think a big-ass werewolf-slash-shapeshifter would go over well if they were to accidentally transform. Bella was lucky that I even had a passport. In the end, it was Alice who convinced me, definitely playing the loyalty card pretty heavily. If only I had known that loyalty was not extended to me.

Italy was beautiful, but between the sweet relief of landing, Alice stealing a car, and getting caught up in the whirlwind that was the St. Marcus festival, I had barely any time to take it all in. The city was awash with hundreds of people, their red cloaks swirling about as they danced and celebrated.

Bella was diving out the car, screaming Edward's name. I dove into the crowds to follow her, making my way through the throngs of red cloaks to find her. It didn't take long before I was hopelessly lost. What had Alice said? Edward was going to reveal himself. What exactly would happen if he did? That was one thing I had never managed to get out of Bella.

Would he just… spontaneously combust?

No. That made no sense, he never would have come to the Volturi for death if that happened.

But where was the best place to do it?

I looked around desperately before my eyes landed on the clock tower in the center of the square. There. That was the prefect place. I pushed through the crowds, yelling Bella's name at the top of my lungs.

Demetri

"BELLA!"

He turned at the sound, and his dead heart seemed to beat for just a moment. Her voice sounded like heaven. Demetri scanned the square, eyes searching, desperate with hope that maybe, just maybe, she might be who he thought she was.

"Bella!'

It was closer this time, and through a break in the crowds he saw her. Time seemed to slow down as he took in the sight of her. She was by the clock tower, her chest rising and falling with the effort to breathe, as if she had just run a long distance. And given the beads of sweat along her brow and the trickles that dripped down her tantalizing neck, she had.

She was stunning. Beautiful. And more than everything that he had ever hoped for.

The other girl in front of him, Bella, turned around in both alarm and relief.

"Bella," Edward said softly. "Relax. He won't harm her."

"Demetri?" Felix asked, voice heavy with confusion.

"Stay with our… guests, Felix."

Demetri was next to the girl in the blink of an eye, stepping into her line of sight a moment later. She jerked back in alarm before making eye contact with him. And it happened. His whole world seemed to turn upside down. He grinned. She was his.

"Hello, principessa." He lifted her warm hands to his cold lips, enjoying the subtle taste of her skin. "I am Demetri. I will escort you to your friends. If you will follow me."

She raised a disbelieving brow at him, taking him in before landing on his eyes. She gulped a little and nodded her head. He held out his arm for her to take, and after a moments hesitation, she did so.

Upon arriving at the alleyway in which the others stood, his mate let go and hugged Bella tightly.

"You're alright." She breathed, her perfect voice hushed.

"I'm alright, Y/N."

"Good to have you back." It was Jane. "Aro has been wondering what has been taking so long. Let us continue."

He put a hand on his mates back, urging her forward silently.

Demetri found that he no longer cared what would happen with Cullen and his human, not so long as his mate stayed.

I was a moron.

Despite the seriously fucked up and dangerous situation that Bella had somehow pulled me into, I couldn’t help but blush as I felt this stranger's hand on my lower back.

'Demetri. His name is Demetri, Y/N.'

The gesture felt oddly warm and comforting. He felt oddly warm and comforting.

And I liked it. But also I didn't like it. He was making me feel all funny and I honestly didn't know what to do about it.

I glanced back at him, only to find him already looking at me, something akin to wonder in his eyes. He gave me a small smile and I turned back around, blushing harder. I liked that smile. A lot. I shook my head, following behind Edward and Bella, doing my best to not trip.

I had bigger things to worry about. Such as getting out of this situation alive. Alice had neglected to tell me much of anything, and I had only caught snippets of her conversation with Bella on the plane. All I knew was that the Volturi laid down the law, and they were not to be fucked with. I suddenly wished I had paid more attention instead of worrying about the death trap that was called a plane.

I grabbed Alice's hand, my anxiety spiking. She gave my hand a small squeeze, sending me another smile. But something was off. She wouldn't look me in the eye. In fact I couldn't recall her looking me in the eye since we had boarded the plane to Italy. And outside of his initial surprise to see me, neither had Edward. I frowned at the sudden realization, slowing down a moment and pulling my hand from hers. Demetri slowed down as well, gently pressing on my back for me to continue, but I stayed rooted in the spot.

"What are you hiding?" My voice cracked. "What did you see?"

Alice looked back at me, surprised.

"Now is not the time, Y/N." Demetri's lips brushed against my ear.

I really liked the way he said my name.

"Indeed." Jane turned around, her face blank.

Demetri tensed, angling himself so that I was out of Jane's eyesight.

"Do not worry, Demetri. I have no intent to harm your mate... As long as she keeps up."

She was so blasé about the whole thing that it took a minute for me to register what she said. Mate? I had a mate? Mates were a thing?

Demetri hissed at her and everyone edged away from the two of them, looking at Demetri as if he were a dead man. Jane just smiled.

"Let us continue. Demetri, do keep your human in line."

I wondered if my brain had just stopped working at that point because I would have normally said something back, but I couldn't bring myself to do much of anything. Demetri turned back around, looking at me as one would a spooked animal. And I was pretty close to a spooked animal. I was starting to hyperventilate, and I definitely wanted to run, but I couldn't get my legs to work.

"Y/N." He reached out, clasping both of my arms lightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to find out this way, but we really must keep going."

I nodded, numb. Alice knew. How long had she known? And Edward hadn't bothered to say a damn thing to me either. Why? They couldn't bother to prepare me for this? I have a fucking mate. That's not something you can just shove under the rug. And Jane. Fucking Jane-

Demetri's hand slid into my own, the coolness of his skin breaking me out of my haze just enough to keep moving forward. I could feel myself beginning to shut down and disassociate, auto-pilot taking over. I could feel his thumb rubbing circles softly on the palm of my hand and decided to focus on that instead.

Jane pushed the heavy double doors in front of us open.

My brain refused to shut off, memories of the last 24 hours replaying repeatedly in my head.

Bella had been released under two conditions:

She was to be turned within the year.

I was to stay here, to be with my mate.

I didn't have a choice, not that it really mattered, because I would have given myself up in a heartbeat for Bella. But they had taken the deal with barely a thought. Even Bella. That's when I realized that she knew. She had known the whole time. And Alice. I kept thinking about how she had worked so hard to convince me to come. To be Bella's emotional support. I wasn't there to be her emotional support. I was there to be traded, like some dog. And it hurt.

I had lost everything.

My friends. My home. My family.

I would never see my mother again. My father had passed a little over a year ago to cancer, so my mother and I were already in the practice of mourning. But my mom, not only had she lost my dad, but now she would think I was dead too. How would she cope?

How was I going to cope? How could I ever trust anyone again? Bella and the Cullens had taken advantage of me. Of my love. My loyalty.

I wouldn't let it happen again. Never.

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @lack-lust-3r @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal

Wanna be notified when I post a new fic? Ask to join my taglist!

[alonetimelover]

to feel fulfilled

pairing: Harry Styles x polish!reader (fem, she/her)

summary: During the day of the last Love on Tour show Harry intends to do three things: satisfy his fiancée, make granny's dream come true and put on the best performance for his fans.

warnings: fluff, some suggestive moments (nothing explicit), they are in love, okay? and granny is the total sweetheart, with Harry they are the power duo.

word count: 3,5k

a/n: Based on the anon request!

masterlist

Italy during summer was the most beautiful place on Earth, thought YN for the past couple of days, she’d been there. The house that Harry and her bought just over two years ago had windows overlooking the coast, shining, clear blue water crashing against the rocks, waking her up every day. Birds singing while sitting on the trees outside of their room’s balcony and the smell of the fresh coffee being brewed by one of the guests. 

She felt in heaven. 

“Will you let me wake up with you in my arms instead of the scrunched blanket, woman?” 

YN turned around from the balcony and smiled. 

“Good morning to you too, Harry.”

“Aghh!” Harry screamed into the pillow. “Come ‘ere. I beg you.”

With a winning smirk on her face, she slowly - teasingly - walked up to Harry’s side of bed. YN put a hand on his unruly mop of hair and brushed it away from his face. She’d never get over the way he looked in the morning. Clear complexion, always warm and awaiting her touch with scrunched eyebrows and eyes shut close, like scared of the beams of the sunlight. His soft skin glowing in those, the tattoos on display like paintings in the gallery. When he finally opened his eyes they radiated the peacefulness they seeked all the time. 

She once came to the conclusion that she loved him the most in the morning light. 

“Good morning,” Harry finally responded, clinging to YN’s legs. “How’d you sleep, lovie?”

Still stroking his hair, after countless kisses being pressed to her thighs, hips and belly she laughed and squirmed away from Harry’s needy lips. 

“Insufferable from the moment he woke up. Why didn't it surprise me?” 

“Your fault.”

Not giving her a chance to respond he hooked her legs in his arm and threw her on the bed. In seconds he laid his whole body on hers, pressing them together. Two became one. 

“Your fault,” Harry repeated, kissing YN’s lips for the first time this morning. “You look like this in the morning and want me not to do something about it?”

“Like this?”

“Yeah. This little thing.” Harry stretched the strap of her cotton top, snapping it back to place right away. “You’re irresistible. It’s driving me insane.”

Harry stretched his answer with breaks for kissing different parts of her body after each word. Cheek, lips, nose, eyelid, neck, collarbone, that one place right above her breast. He left those kisses like sweet treats for later. Because he knew that later he’d have time to do it even slower. 

“Don’t go too insane. Lots of people are waiting for you today.”

As the answer to that, Harry collapsed on her, hiding his face into her neck. This evening was going to be a sour-sweet moment. It was the end of the Love On Tour. After two years of travelling the world, putting his best each night and sacrificing sometimes more than he was willing to, it was a sour moment. He put his whole self into making it the place for all people, to help them feel comfortable, loved. But the end was inevitable and seeked. He was tired, prone to little health problems due to that exhaustion and he longed for a month to spend in one place. With his family and friends. With YN. 

“Can’t believe it’s the last one.”

“Two years. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a good night's sleep, huh?”

“I always sleep well with you by my side. Not that long of a time since, it seems.” He smiled widely, kissing her neck. “Thank you for being here. Wouldn’t be able to do any of it without you.”

“Thank you for finding me.”

***

“Babcia, what do you mean you’re not going with us?” Harry asked, confused. 

“I get easily seasick, my boy. Also, the garden needs some attendance. I'm going back home in two days. You all will have nice holidays and then come to me, right?”

Harry pouted, but then smiled lovingly at YN’s granny. “Of course. You promised me all those tomatoes and cucumbers from your greenhouse, I can’t not come. Right, lovie?”

“We’ll be back in August, granny. You’ll have us all to yourself for a month at least.”

The eyes of the lovely older lady lit up.

“Excellent. Now, let’s talk about that one secret you wanted to discuss with me, Harry. What is it?”

Granny took a sip of her hot tea and almost choked on it, after hearing what Harry had in mind. The couple was immediately on their feet, assisting her by firstly taking the cup and then carefully but firmly tapping granny’s back. When she settled down, assuring Harry three times that she was okay, they all sat back on their former seats. 

“I can’t do it, Harry. It’s impossible.” She rejected him, feeling her heart breaking. She loved Harry like her own grandchild and refusing anything to him was like stabbing herself. 

“No, it’s not. I heard it. We did it together. It won’t be any different.”

“Won’t be any different? Harry, my boy, you don’t believe the word you’re saying. YN, can you talk him out of it?” She turned to her granddaughter with hopeful eyes. 

“I could but I’m not going to. If Harry thinks it’s a good idea, I think so, too. Plus, you know that he won’t do anything against your will. You have time to give him an answer. Whatever it is, nothing will change.” 

“Oh, how those kids grow. It was just yesterday I was giving you this talk right before your recital,” granny laughed, squeezing her grandchildren’s hands. “I’ll think about it, okay? But I don’t promise anything.”

***

“Harry, can you please sit down?” YN pleaded with her fiance, trying to finally set him down and talk calmly. “I promised to take care of my family while you prepare for tonight, let me do that.”

“Yes, yes,” he responded frantically, still pacing through the room. “Your auntie and uncle are staying at the house, they’re not there yet because of the plane cancellation. Your cousins - the ones with funny hair styles - Anna and Maria - yeah, those were the names,  are already at the venue and are staying with their parents at Sergio’s house. Now, your parents are at the house with mum, Gemma and Michal. Granny is there too. Where’s grandad? I forgot about granddad. Jesus Christ, lovie. I- I forgot-”

Harry couldn’t finish the thought though. YN stood before him and held his face in her hands, stroking the rosy cheeks. 

“Shhh. You didn’t forget. Grandpa is back home. He sprained his ankle a week ago. You didn’t forget about anyone. You are the best host they could ask for, yeah?”

He took a deep breath. When he thought the Warsaw show was the most stressful one, he was so wrong it was funny. Not only he didn’t rehearse any of the songs yet he took upon himself to take care of everyone he invited for tonight. He knew YN promised and reminded him that she would do it, but he couldn’t just sit like a bump on the log. 

“Right ankle, I remember.”

“Now, deep breath in, baby. Let’s calm down, okay?”

Harry followed YN’s every breath, staring into her eyes. The calmness they provided, the stability he was reaching towards, all there, in those two little irises.

“Better?”

“Yes. Thank you, my love.”

He softly kissed her lips, lingering to put his hammering heart at ease. The softness of them comforting his chapped ones (all due to biting them in stress). He slowly, but surely embraced her body, deepening the kiss. 

YN was the only one to bring him back to reality. Also the only one to let him forget about the struggles and think about pleasure. There was no hour in a day when Harry didn’t think about her. When he would kiss her, hug her, make love to her. She bedevilled his soul and body, and he gladly took the role of the possessed. 

Screw calming his heart. Now, it was beating for her and only her. 

“As much as I’d love to keep going towards where it does. We need to stop,” YN whispered, after dramatically ending their kiss. 

“No, we don’t. Keep going, baby. Please?”

Now, he moved to her neck. To that one spot that was reserved for moments alone, for times where he really wanted to convince her. The spot right where she loved to feel his lips the most. The one, driving her over the edge with desire. Even the strongest soldier on earth wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation. 

So why would she?

“Fifteen minutes. Not a second more, not a -”

“Not a second less. Oh, I’ll use that time to the last drop.”

Before YN could scold him for the innuendo he shut her up with the deepest kiss that day. 

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by harrysmoustache, hArrysbtch and 23 402 others

harryupdates HARRY BACKSTAGE AT THE REGGIO FAMILIA!!!! the last show of tour is strating in less than an hour!!!! via italianoharry

view all 4 202 comments

hArrysbtch what do we think, hitties out tonight?

comment liked by harryupdates and 16 301 others

italianoharry guys!!! he's whole family is here. yn is and here granny as well. harry was helping her move around the place swiftly

⤷ harrysmoustache i love this man with my whole heart

harrysmylife i can't wait to watch the livestream and cry for hours

harryshoee do we think he'll sing more songs????

⤷ harryonedirection i'm praying for the full best song ever!

⤷ harrysadbtch i want little freak. if he sings it, you can do with me whatever

——————————————————————————————

“He’s going to get sick. The wind is starting to pick up, he’s overheated. I told him, YN,” granny spoke in her native language to YN. 

Harry was already on stage. Three songs already done with twenty or more to go, and granny worried. Right before going to the ‘softgoods’ box, she saw him and almost cursed the stylist. ‘You are going to catch a cold,’ she said to him then to which Harry responded with ‘well, YN keeps me warm, babcia.’ 

“He’s going to be alright, granny. He is as healthy as a horse. Don’t worry and dance with me, huh?”

While dancing to Keep Driving, they kept watching Harry enjoying his last performance. The energy he brought with himself radiated to the audience. They, they were incredible. On the way to their ‘seats’ (the area that Harry had asked the guards to prepare for his immediate family) they all received friendship bracelets and gave away some. Granny made them together with Harry during their ritual afternoon tea, hoping to be able to pass them over. Each one consisted of a little note from Harry, thanking for participating in the show and being the fans for however many years they’d been. 

When Harry started moving towards the catwalk, granny breathed out in quite the exhaustion. 

“Right now, we’ll have a little slower section,” Harry spoke to the microphone. “Babcia, how are we feeling?” 

Granny looked up at Harry and smiled widely, putting her thumbs up. 

“She’s great, Reggio Emilia. Will you make some noise for her?” 

Harry then screamed into the microphone, welcoming the audience to do the same. They all mimicked him, making granny hide her face in the palm of her hands. YN hugged her grandma from behind, smiling at Harry. 

“Okay. Okay. Settle down! Now, we’re moving towards the slower part of the show. Granny, would you like to sit down?”

Granny was ready to let things go hang and tell him to keep going with the show, but YN tapped her shoulder and signed towards the ground. There was a little folding chair, waiting for her. 

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“Okay, now that granny is settled and in good hands - thank you, baby - please sing if you know the words!” 

Harry then proceeded to make YN cry by singing her favourite songs. She loved them all but Little Freak, Matilda, Falling and Fine Line would always hold a special place in her heart. Plus, he did not  say a thing about adding those to the setlist. 

While walking back to the centre stage Harry looked over, seeing YN wiping off the tears and helping granny to get up and dance just a bit more. Inaudibly he asked her if everything was okay and after getting her signature smile back, he was on his way. 

***

“Granny, I am sorry and please cover your ears,” Harry said to the microphone before the intro to the Medicine started. 

“You know,” granny started, turning towards YN. “I kept my promise and didn’t search for the meaning of this song. But I am not stupid.”

“Granny,” YN longed, embarrassed. 

“Oh, I was young once, too. Enjoy it.” But when YN thought it would be enough to make her feel warm in the awkwardness, granny added. “Maybe, tell Harry to use more complicated metaphors so I wouldn’t understand what he’s doing with my granddaughter.” 

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch and 58 302 others

harryupdates GRANNY COVER TOUR EARS. Harry is singing MEDICINE right now.

view all 10 202 comments

hArrysbtch and then he proceeds to sing it so slutty while looking at YN the whole time!!!!!

harrysmoustache yeah, im done

harryslotitaly i was standing behind yn and her granny and she said something along the lines 'tell harry to use difficult words to describe what he's doing with my granddaughter'

⤷ hArrysbtch we STAN yn's granny

⤷ harryno1fan idol

⤷ harryupdates we are now the fans of granny

——————————————————————————————

When ‘As It Was’ neared its end, the whole family of Harry’s started to move backstage, knowing what was coming next would be for them to watch from a closer place.  YN helped her granny move slowly towards the backstage area, holding the foldable chair in her left arm. Fans that they were passing reached for them, asking to pass on their love towards Harry. Granny got even more bracelets. 

“It’s Kiwi now, isn’t it?” She asked while going up the stairs, behind the stage. 

“Yes, it is. Then he’ll be back with us. For a moment,” YN added the last sentence quietly, still counting on granny to be persuaded by Harry. 

“Oh, you still want me to do it?”

“I do. Remember all the stories you’ve told us about. When you were younger with grandpa, the dream you both had?” YN switched to her mother’s tongue, wanting to have this moment just for her and her granny. 

“It was a long time ago,” granny said, having a sad smile on her face. “It’s been so long. I forgot what dreams were about.”

“Freedom. You’ve always said it was freedom.”

Granny, whenever they spoke of hard and devastating themes, was in awe of her granddaughter’s wit and cleverness. With each word she was proud of the woman YN’s become. Woman, that granny wanted to be. Free, happy and with a man she loved by her side. But granny never felt free. 

So maybe, after 92 years of her life, it was time to make that 12-year-old girl dream come true. 

“Here comes the star!” Someone’s scream pulled granny out of her thoughts. 

From behind the corner came Harry. Sweaty, exhausted, teared up but smiling. He walked up to the first person on his way - Anne - and hugged her like never before. Then he went to Gemma, his dad, and friends. Then he moved towards grinning YN. 

“I’m so, so proud of you.” She kissed him on the lips and pulled him towards her body, crashing them together. “So proud. You can’t even imagine.”

“I love you, my love. Oh, I love you!” Harry screamed, picking his love up and spinning them around. 

People all over them started cheering and whistling. They were used to Harry and YN being very affectionate with each other. They didn’t mind it, they appreciated how open they were with showing everyone that they loved the other with their whole hearts. 

“The piano is on stage, Harry.” Came the voice from behind them, interrupting their moment. 

“I’ll be right there!” 

After putting YN down, giving her one more kiss on the lips and forehead, he searched for granny with his eyes. The little lady was bearing down on one of the boxes, an enormous smile on her face. 

“Granny!”

“Harry, my boy!” 

He quickly embraced her delicately, kissing the side of her head. “Thank you for being here, granny. I wouldn’t be able to do it without you here.”

Granny smiled even more, “you’ve been practising your polish, I see. Thank you.”

As the answer Harry put his head on granny’s shoulder mumbling something. 

“What?”

“I need to go,” Harry repeated, looking into granny’s eyes. “I will play the ballad for them.”

When she looked into Harry’s eyes she saw the same things she saw in one’s boy’s eyes that she had married all those 70 years ago. The hope, love and fearlessness in that gaze was unmistakable. They were so similar but so different at the same time. They both wanted to give people everything they had, but her husband knew when to say stop. Harry was yet to be taught that. Both were so in love, they were ready to give up their life for it. Both cherished their families. Both wanted to make music. But only Harry got to do it. 

Granny knew that her husband would laugh at her reluctance to do what Harry wanted. He would say that ‘after all those years, you still don’t want to feel fulfilled’. He would hug her and say he understood and that he also would do the same. And he would also push her towards achieving what he couldn’t. What they couldn’t back in the day. 

It was the day she was going to feel fulfilled. Day of making dreams come true. Her and her husbands. Because he was ready to live the dream through her. 

“We will.”

Harry’s eyes grew big in shock. After the morning’s conversation he dropped all hope on doing this. He thought that the discussion was over and it was to never be brought back up again. He was very wrong and very glad for that. 

“In this case,” YN interrupted their moment, holding a hand with something white towards Harry. “I had it made just in case granny changed her mind.”

Examining the thing closer, Harry saw it was a T-shirt. When he unfolded it, his eyes shone brighter. 

“Granny, look at it!” 

On the front of the T-shirt on the white background were granny’s and Harry’s faces (Harry remembered when the photo was taken - just after the Warsaw show) with a big writing, saying REGGIO EMILIA IS GRANNY’S HOUSE and the date of the show underneath. 

“YN-”

“Look at the back,” YN interrupted her granny and helped Harry turn the material. 

There was a photo of granny and grandpa with their friends during their one and only concert back in 1948. Granny sitting by the piano and her husband with the guitar he had spent his whole paycheck on. Right there was the writing: GRANNY AND PAPA’S BAND. 

“Now, there is no time for tears, granny,” Harry whipped the tears off her cheeks. “I’ll wear this shirt and you will wear my jacket, okay?”

Granny couldn’t formulate any words. She just accepted the jacket Harry wore for the whole concert and with the help of YN put it on. Harry quickly dressed himself in YN’s gift and moved towards the stage. 

“I’ll be with you on stage, right next to you. If you want to stop playing, don’t worry. You can put your head on my arm and we’ll do this together, right?” 

“Right. I’ll play the highest notes. We’ll do it four-handed, yes?”

“Yes. I am right next to you.”

“I already gave you my blessing, but oh boy,” granny sighed. “She couldn’t have found a better man to spend the rest of her life with.”

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by harryitaly and 93 301 others

harryupdates "This is a song that Granny wrote by herself a few years ago in 1947, when she was in a band. They played one concert together before the idea of becoming the musicians was taken from them by the cruel reality of living post-war. Now, I'd really like for you to listen to this beautiful ballad called 'to be fulfilled'. I'm glad to do it with granny for the first time ever." Then granny took the microphone saying,"It's just for you, just for tonight."

view all 18 302 comments

harrysmoustache i-

harrysmoustache no no no, it was so beautiful

harrysmoustache jesus christ im spamming this account

hArrysbtch i fucking cried hard

harrysmylife he's gonna pay the bill for my psychiatrist, cardiologist and whoever can heal mu fucking broken heart

harrysfan82 woah, it was perfect

harryandyn did you guys see the shirt??? it had a picture of granny's band at the back!

——————————————————————————————

Italy at night was even more beautiful than in the morning. The lights shining above their heads with the sound of crashing waves and chatter of people that were yet to go to sleep. The wind was moving the leaves against each other, making the melody of the living nature. 

And there were laughs. Laughs of Harry’s and YN’s while they were stumbling their way towards their front door. 

“And they were all - they were all like - wooah, what is happening? Did you see it, my love?” Harry said definitely too loudly, considering the time. 

“I did see it. You both surprised all of the fans. They loved it.”

YN moved in front of Harry and helped him with fetching the keys in his enormous tote bag. After finding them she turned around and quietly turned them in the lock. Open. 

“Shh,” she silenced Harry before he could make any more noise than stomping his feet against the floor. 

“Okay,” he longed, putting his hands up in no offence. “I am sorry.”

“Let's go to the bedroom. You need a good night's sleep.”

Within moments they were inside the room. YN switched on the lights, illuminating it beautifully. Harry, though, after closing the door behind himself, was moving incredibly fast and steadily towards YN. Pure lust and adoration in his gaze told her one thing: he did not forget the promise he had made that morning. 

He crashed their lips together, not caring how good it could look. He needed to feel her lips. To feel her body. He needed to feel this other - out of the world - connection they had. 

While stroking her cheek with one hand and pulling on her dress with the other, YN was busy trying to unbutton his shirt. Small buttons suddenly flew across the whole room, after Harry’s impatience got the best of him. He just shrugged at YN’s shock and went back to placing kisses across her collarbones. 

“I promised you,” he started, while slowly moving down onto his knees, kissing down and down towards the place he knew when reached - there was no going back. “I would connect those sweet treats, slowly. And then -” Harry helped her take off the dress. “And then, I’m going to slowly, very slowly thank you in the way you love the most.”

He kissed the skin over her hip bone, holding eye contact. The desire her eyes were showing, driving him crazy. But he knew, he needed to be slow. 

“Will you let me thank you too?” YN asked breathlessly, having Harry already started to put her mind in the whole other world. 

“Oh, I intend to. We have a long night before ourselves, don’t we?” 

——————————————————————————————

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist, harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 13 201 291 others

harrystyles To the fans, thank you for being with me throughout the years. Thank you for attending the shows, and thank you for your support. To the woman I love, thank you for showing me the way with your love and care. To Granny and Papa, thank you for teaching us about unconditional love and dreaming big. To my band, thank you for coming to this journey with me. Goodbye for now. Love, Harry xx

view all 35 930 comments

yourinstagram being proud of you is a misunderstatement, you created the space for people to be themselves. i admire and love you for everything 🩷🩷

yourinstagram granny looks at papa just like that even though its been 70 years

⤷ harrystyles will you still look at me like that in 70 years?

⤷ yourinstagram to the end

annetwist I am so proud of you son!

hArrysbtch yeah, let's cry again

harryupdates THANK YOU

harrysmoustache yeah, he's going to disappear for a year, isn't he?

[writingstoraes]

Secret trip part two? With like the guests pictures, well wishes and some honeymoon posts from the newly weds 🤞😍

the days after 🏝

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au (heavier on the ig part hehe)

notes: thank you sm for requesting, lovely! i hope you like this 🤍 reqs are still open! (tho patience is required i have varying levels of productivity lol) posting next would be the part 3 of split! lmk if anyone wants to be tagged hehe

about: after revealing the private wedding you and charles had in italy, here's what came after!

this is the part 2 to secret trip! read it here.

carlossainz55

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 984,221 others

carlossainz55 Suited up and attended something 🥂

pierregasly What's with the mystery everyone knows Charles and Y/N got married

carlossainz55 Mind your own Insta, thank you very much?

scuderiaferrari Looking sharp, Smooth Operator! ❤️

danielricciardo Okay we see you Mr. Secrecy 😁

carlossainz55 I'm not hiding anything????

landonorris People literally know you attended a wedding

carlossainz55 IT WAS JUST A CAPTION? Can't I post a picture of myself in peace? 55sainzz LMAOOO THEY WONT LET HIM BREATHE 😭

pierregasly

liked by arthurleclerc, lorenzotl, yourusername, and 564,983 others

pierregasly Somewhere in Italy, two of my greatest friends tied the knot. Congratulations to the two best people I know ❤️ Grateful to be a part of this magical day and I only wish you two the happiest of days. Seems like it was just yesterday when Charles was boasting how you finally texted him back 🤣

estebanocon I am not the best person you know?

landonorris Hurts, right?

charles_leclerc The last part was uncalled for... but yeah I was proud :D

charlesmcqueen hes been whipped for her ever since god i have seen what you have done for others

danielricciardo See carlossainz55 this is how you do a greeting

carlossainz55 I am going to post one can you all wait damn

danielricciardo

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen, georgerussell63, and 849,273 others

danielricciardo Almost a year ago, Charles and Y/N asked me to take some pictures of them to commemorate their engagement. Believe it or not, these pictures are outtakes and unplanned. I happened to catch such beautiful moments between the two of them and now I just witnessed them celebrate their love for each other.

Congratulations, yourusername and charles_leclerc!

landonorris Another smashing greeting related to the wedding, carlossainz55 can't relate 🙏

carlossainz55 I am about to block all of you

yourusername melting at your caption aside, why am i only seeing this now, daniel?

danielricciardo Saved it for a second wedding gift 😁

gaslyscar Jesus i am never going to experience this am I ��

lewishamilton

liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamgf1, susiewolff, and 1,001,223 others

lewishamilton Was not able to snap some pictures from the wedding but luckily, I have this in my gallery from all the times I have spent third-wheeling with them. I think the smiles on their faces say it all. Congratulations, newlyweds! 🤵👰

charles_leclerc Million thanks for telling me what her name was, mate 😆

lewishamilton You're also welcome for the texts I helped you construct cause you were too afraid to send one britcedesbro sir lewis hamilton professional matchmaker???

carlossainz55 At this point who hasn't third-wheeled with them?

yourusername hey you guys make it seem like it's a bad thing charles_leclerc And we pay the bill to compensate???

carlossainz55

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 678,234 others

carlossainz55 Such an unbelievable experience to witness Charles and Y/N's journey as a couple. A witness since their first date, the first time Charles introduced her to Ferrari team members, the day Charles told me he was out picking a ring, up to being the first to receive the good news that Y/N said yes. I only wish you guys eternal moments of love, happiness, and peace ❤️

And before the entire grid comes at me for this, yes I am capable of doing a proper greeting. Thanks.

yourusername hmm, seems like you're doing this to prove something, carlito

charles_leclerc Totally, out of spite carlossainz55 I cannot catch a break from all of you 😐

landonorris Their faces aren't visible

pierregasly Where are our pictures??? carlossainz55 That's it, hard blocking all of you

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, and 341,886 others

yourusername maldives with the man i recently got my last name from 🏖️

pierregasly Enjoy, newlyweds ❤️

landonorris Bring me home some shell necklaces

charles_leclerc When did you take that shot of me

yourusername when you were busy saying the stone formation kinda looks like the rock 🥱

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, maxverstappen, and 1,290,472 others

charles_leclerc Honeymoon stop 2: Iceland 🏞️ Beautiful place with my beautiful wife.

scuderiaferrari Have fun, Y/N and Charles! ❤️

arthurleclerc Me? An uncle?

yourusername no one said that, arthur 😆

forzacharles i too would wanna travel the world during my honeymoon with my significant other, all i need is a significant other

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, yourbff, and 432,208 others

yourusername various shots from our many stops. adventures with you surely does not stop here. excited to spend forever with you, charles_leclerc 🤍

landonorris I am expecting my shell necklace any moment now

carlossainz55 Can't even wait for them to unpack?

charles_leclerc Pour toujours et à jamais, mon amour 💋 Forever and always, my love.

lovingleclerc MY FAVEEE COUPLE <3

sainzzlecs my parents exactly

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

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: its actually been so long since i did an imagine that's purely ig lmao i find it hard now to not include twitter panels but anyway! i hope you like this anon <3 lmk what u guys think hehe btw reqs for charles imagines are open hehe (pls lend some patience if u send one tho) thank you for reading 🤍

posting next would be the part 3 of split! lmk if anyone wants to be tagged hehe

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 1 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, swearing, sexual harassment/men being gross, alcohol use, smoking, age gap

Wordcount: 4k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 1 | in the same room, at the same time

This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what you would tell yourself, later. But, life is funny that way - nothing ever really goes the way you’d expect it. And, when you had taken the last-minute shift at Enoteca Bruni, the fine-dining restaurant where you worked as a cocktail waitress, you could have never predicted where the night would take you.

It had started with a large reservation that had come in around 8pm, four businessmen in suits and watches that you imagined cost more than your entire month’s rent. You were used to that type - considering the prices on the wine list, nearly everyone you served here lived at least three tax brackets above you. It wasn’t a job meant for everyone - a lot of these types of customers were dismissive, rude, and expected those who serve them to disappear in the background, not to interrupt whatever they were doing, which was obviously oh-so-important. But, the tips were phenomenal, and the late night hours worked perfectly with your daytime shifts at the cafe in the city’s center.

Still, the most intriguing thing about them was that they weren’t Italian, like you had gotten used to - nor were they speaking Spanish, French, German, or any of the other languages you had learned to recognize over the last few years. No, they were American. It wasn’t often that you heard your native tongue and accent nowadays - no, it was actually jarring. But, you welcomed it. The oldest man at the table, a gray-haired, thin man with a sharp face and tailored three-piece suit, smiled when you greeted them with a hello.

“How wonderful,” he had exclaimed. “Someone from our side of the world.”

“Finally,” a younger man with a smattering of freckles on the other side of the table had said, exasperated. “We’ve got someone who actually speaks English around here.”

“Well,” you said, “To be fair, you are in Rome. I suppose you could say we are the odd-ones-out.”

He rolled his eyes, and shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m just trying to say it’s nice to actually understand who I’m talking to for once, you know? Not that I’m looking for her to talk back.”

Unfortunately, that didn’t even crack the top ten worst things a customer had said to you in your time working here. So instead, you just plastered on a cheerful smile.

“Of course. In that case, what drinks can I get started for you gentlemen?”

As the hours wore on though, it was becoming harder and harder to feign kindness. With each wave of dismissal, or snap of their fingers, you wanted to take the drinks you were serving and throw them in their faces. The worst of the bunch were probably the first older man you had spoken to, who had such a vile demeanor about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on it; and perhaps worse than him were two of the younger men, the dark-haired one with freckles, and a sandy-haired guy with what you could only describe as a mullet.

1982 called, it wants its hairstyle back, you thought to yourself. 

It was those two who you could see undressing you with their eyes, who called you over for nonsense requests, asking you to bend over the table to get things that you knew they were perfectly capable of reaching themselves. And, you weren’t deaf; you heard the comments they made as you walked away to fetch more wine and scotch.

Look at that ass go, one of them said. I’d definitely hit it.

As if you could pull that, the other said. Besides, you’ve already got two bitches on the side Billy; leave some for the rest of us.

Don’t look at me, the sandy-haired man who was apparently named Billy retorted. If anyone around here needs to get laid, it’s Harrington.

With your back turned, you rolled your eyes, and wondered if they’d notice if you spit in their drink - that was, until no-first-name Harrington replied.

Guys, lay off - just let the girl do her job, yeah? 

You took a deep breath, and recomposed yourself - it was the bare minimum, but it was something - someone who saw you as a person, maybe.

You carried the tray over with a wide smile plastered on your face, handing out drinks as you surveyed the table. You glanced at Harrington, the quietest one in the group - you had hardly heard a word from him all night, until right now. He was handsome, on the younger side of the group, but you’d estimate still about a decade your senior; he had a thick, slightly wild head of chestnut hair, and more of a boyish look about him. And with the exception of his perfectly-tailored suit and ostentatious Rolex, he didn’t look to have much else in common with his colleagues at first glance. While they sat at ease, laughing and conversing over their drinks, he sat up straight, stoically swirling his wine.

You pulled the post-dinner cigars they had asked you to bring out of the box, slicing the end with the guillotine cutter and handing the first one to the oldest man, striking a match and lighting it for him until he drew smoke. It felt humiliating sometimes, to light the Suits’ cigars for them as if they couldn’t do it themselves, but that came with the territory in a place like this, you had learned. 

You reached Harrington last, only for him to shake his head.

“Oh, none for me - thank you though.”

Thank you - he was probably the first one from the table to say that all evening. 

“Can I get you gentleman anything else?” you asked stiffly.

“That’ll be all, for now,” the gray-haired man said, waving you off. 

You nodded, and at the bar, decided it was high time for your smoke break. You glanced at your watch - your shift was over in less than an hour, and your high heels were killing you. You signaled to the manager behind the bar that you were taking fifteen, and shouldered your way out the door.

*****

The first few minutes outside were peaceful, and relatively quiet - at least, as quiet as Rome could be at this hour. There was still the distant sound of traffic, the bustle of people on the sidewalk, many drunkenly stumbling and laughing, in the midst of making merry on a Friday night. You took a drag from your cigarette and inhaled deeply - even just a few moments off of your feet, and sitting out here on this bench in the fresh air, was starting to take the edge off. Still, you couldn’t shake that table of men - your manager had warned you that it was a very high-profile client, explaining that the dinner was likely a pretense for some multi-million dollar deal to be discussed. Still, you found yourself muttering under your breath, practicing the retorts and profanities you had wanted to throw at them. The shield you had built for dealing with customers was only so strong, and if your job wasn’t on the line, you probably would have told them to fuck off hours ago.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear someone approaching, not until they’re right next to you, clearing their throat.

“Oh! Jesus, hi,” you say, clutching your chest with your hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Harrington was standing above you, hands in his pockets and his tie loosened.

“It’s fine - I promise, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His smile was friendly, and a bit apologetic. He looked different in the dim light, a bit younger, and not at all like someone who spends his days in an office doing… whatever those men inside did.

“You mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to you on the bench. You just shook your head, a bit wary of him still.

He smiled, and started fishing around in his pockets until he pulled out a small baggie of tobacco and a pack of rolling papers. You raised your eyebrows, and smirked.

“You roll your own cigarettes?” you asked.

He nodded, not quite looking at you, focused intently on the task and hand.

“Yep. It’s so much better than that crap you smoke, trust me.”

You scoffed, despite the fact that this man was technically your customer, and your shift wasn’t quite over yet.

“Yeah, well, I’m doing just fine with what I’ve got. Thanks though…” you trailed off, looking at him expectantly. He caught on and turned to face you, grinning.

“Steve. Steve Harrington.”

He extended a hand towards you. You hesitated for a moment, caught off-guard by the simplicity of the gesture from someone like him, but you took it, telling him your own name. His much bigger hand was warm and calloused, shaking yours firmly before pulling away.

You stared at him intently, desperately trying to figure him out as you placed your cigarette between your lips and inhaled. It was hard to figure out what exactly his deal was - but, he was talking to you like you were an actual person, so that was at least a step above most of the people you’d waited on here.

When he finished rolling, he stuck the cigarette between his lips, then sighed. 

“Shit - d’you have a light?”

You nodded, reaching into your handbag and pulling out your small blue lighter. He leaned in close, close enough that you could faintly smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating off of him in the cool May evening. It took a moment for the flame to catch, then he was leaning back and he took a drag, letting his eyes flutter shut.

You looked away quickly, staring at the street ahead. Your black cocktail dress didn’t offer much coverage, causing you to shiver slightly as a breeze picked up. It was Steve who broke the silence, after a few moments.

“I want to apologize, by the way - my, uh, colleagues… they’re assholes.”

You nearly choked at his words, whipping around to face him.

“I’m sorry… what?”

“I - I don’t know how much you heard in there, but -”

“I heard enough,” you said quickly.

His face fell, then hardened. He looked… angry? Or, perhaps disappointed.

“I really am sorry. I know I probably should have said something, but…Brenner’s my boss. And, there’s a lot of people who would kill to work for him. So, you have to understand… I mean, Tommy and Billy, they’re real jerks. I can’t stand them, most of the time. So, just know that if you want to punch them in the face, I’d understand.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head. 

“Well, just between you and me, I do want to punch them. But… I would really like to keep my job, and actually get a good tip at the end of the night. So, if I can make it through the next -” you glanced at your watch, “- half an hour or so, I’ll be alright. I’m kind of used to it anyway, working here.”

You felt his eyes on you, but didn’t turn to meet his gaze. Then, he said more softly, “I’m sorry to hear that. Really.”

You shrugged. 

“It’s fine. But, thank you - most people don’t take the time to say that, I guess.”

A moment of semi-awkward silence fell between you and him, before you added, “But, it’s good to know that I apparently have a nice ass.”

He laughed at that, choking on the smoke he was inhaling.

“Oh God - Billy and Tommy really are the worst. Did you hear that they actually were trying to make a bet about you in there?”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

“What kind of bet?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, staring straight ahead as he shook his head vigorously.

“You know what - nevermind, you’d be disgusted -”

“Well now you have to tell me,” you conceded, inching closer. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad -”

“They said if I manage to get you to go home with me tonight, they’d agree on this huge deal with HNL that they’ve been trying to close with our European counterpart for months - they said it because they knew it wouldn’t happen, of course, I don’t really -”

“What would you get?” you asked bluntly.

“Huh?”

“If they thought you won the bet, like, would that be good for your job?”

He scoffs, nodding fervently.

“Um, yes - my yearly bonus would probably quadruple -”

“Then let’s do it,” you said.

His mouth fell open, and he was staring at you like you had three heads.

“Do what, exactly?”

He suddenly looked flushed, frozen in place as he stared at you. You felt a devilish grin spread on your face as you looked back at him, stubbing out the cigarette with the toe of your shoe.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Harrington.”

*****

You had made sure he arrived back at the table only moments before you. The group of cajoling men were louder now, Tommy slurring his words and Billy in a heated debate with Brenner. Steve flashed a smile at the group, then started sipping his drink as if he had never left.

“What I’m saying is, if we offer them 14 percent -”

“Well, at that rate, we may as well sell them the whole goddamn company -”

“We’re going to have to budge at least a little if we want to make headway, otherwise Upside Tech might outbid us -”

“Harrington!” Tommy cried over the other two men. “Where th’hell ‘ave you been? You left me stranded with these two, they’re actually trying to work right now -”

Then, he spotted you, suddenly flashing a grin that was too wide for your liking.

“Mademoiselle - might I say, I think you’ve only gotten hotter since I last saw you -”

“That was only about twenty minutes ago,” Steve said firmly, cutting Tommy off. “Also, we’re in Italy, not France.”

Tommy waved him off, leaning closer across the table, towards where you stood. 

“May I ask, how’re you getting home tonight, little lady?”

You just smiled.

“I’m actually so happy you brought that up - while I appreciate your concern and all, I’ve got that covered.”

You then turned to Steve, who froze in place.

“Ready to go, Steve?” you asked innocently.

All conversation stopped, then, the other men around the table stopped to gape at him. A smug smirk appeared on Steve’s face, and he stood up slowly, smoothing out his suit.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at the pet name, as ridiculous as it felt. 

“What?” Billy said, his jaw nearly on the floor.

But before they could ask any more questions, Steve was holding out his bent arm, which you graciously hooked yourself through. You pressed yourself into his side, flashing another grin back at the group.

“I’ve left your bill on the table - thank you gentlemen for a wonderful evening, and we hope to see you soon!”

Then Steve surveyed the table, adding, “I suspect you’ll be in touch about negotiation meetings shortly? Since that was the deal and all. I’ll see you at the office on Monday.”

Then, you and Steve turned a corner and headed out the door, to where a car was already waiting for you.

Steve gestured for you to go in ahead of him, opening the backseat door. You slid across, greeting the driver quickly and Steve followed, shutting the door behind you. The second it was closed, you both looked at each other, and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh my God - did you see their faces?”

“I’m going to live on that for years,” he added, fighting to breathe. You threw your head back, practically cackling at the memory of their dumbfounded expressions.

“That was amazing,” Steve said, regaining his composure. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it - I think I got off of it more than you.”

“I doubt that.”

You met his gaze, and your breath stopped for a moment. He really was handsome, his honey-brown eyes staring into yours with such sincerity that it was actually overwhelming. You looked away quickly, staring straight ahead.

“Well, if anything, it made my shift more interesting, so thanks,” you said, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“Yeah, and you just made me my yearly bonus, so thank you.”

After a moment, he cleared his throat. 

“So, uh, where do you live? So I can get you home.”

“Oh! Right,” you said. “Um, do you have any ID or anything?”

Steve furrowed his brow, confused.

“Why are you asking?”

“Look, don’t take this personally - I’ve watched way too much Criminal Minds in my life. And, while I’m sure you’re nice and all, I’m not exactly gonna tell a strange man I’ve never met where I live without some precautions. So, I’m going to take a picture of your ID and send it to my roommate, so she knows who to turn in if I end up on the news, yeah?”

Steve just smirked, and pulled out his wallet.

“So, you think I’m strange?”

You shrugged, fighting a smile.

“Obviously, yes.”

Steve chuckled softly, fishing his license out of his wallet.

“Fair enough - as long as you’re not trying to steal my identity or anything.”

“Oh, definitely,” you said sarcastically. “I was actually going to buy a mansion in your name, if that’s alright.”

He laughed, handing you the card as you took a photo. The address was in Indiana - interesting. He was also 30, judging from his birthday - nearly ten years older than you. Also interesting. You handed it back, shooting a quick text to Robin:

I’ll explain later, but in case I get murdered!

You attached the photo and pressed send. 

Satisfied, you leaned forward, telling your address to the driver, who nodded and pulled onto the busy city street.

You leaned back in your seat, staring out the window. You passed dimly-lit alleyways and bustling restaurants, groups smoking on the sidewalk and couples kissing on benches as the evening started winding down. The silence in the car is comfortable enough, considering that you met the man beside you a few hours ago. It’s him who breaks the lull in conversation, once again.

“So, why did you do it?” he asked quietly.

“Hm?”

“The bet? Well, kind of - at least, why did you make it look like I - like we -”

You shrugged, shifting to face him.

“Honestly?”

He nodded, gaze fixed on you.

“Well - a few reasons, I guess. I knew it would get those jerks off of my back. And, I knew it would help you, with your bonus and all.”

“And why did you want to help me, though? You know nothing about me.”

“Not true,” you said firmly. “I know one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re kind.”

It was simple, but true - for the type of clientele you usually served, he was a rare breed. Maybe it wasn’t much, but it was something.

“I mean, you were nice to me, and actually treated me like a person. I can’t say that for a lot of people, not in that place.”

“Oh,” he said softly. 

A beat. Two. Then, he added, “Oh no - I didn’t even ask, did you have a car, back at the restaurant? Because we can go back and get it -”

“No, don’t worry about it - I don’t have one. I usually take the bus.”

“Oh - alright.”

You tried to stop yourself from rolling your eyes - Steve probably wouldn’t be caught dead on a bus. Or any public transport, for that matter. But, you kept it within yourself, and turned out towards the window again - the sights were getting more familiar, the buildings a little more run-down - closer to home.

You noticed your phone light up in your lap, and glanced down - a response from Robin.

Um… congrats???? Getting laid???? You’d better tell me EVERYTHING!!!!

You laughed under your breath, and saw Steve move to look at you out of the corner of your eye, curious. Before you could respond to her message, the car came to a halt right outside of your apartment building. You sighed, and turned to face the man beside you.

“Well, this is me. Thank you. For the ride home, I mean - you didn’t really have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” Steve said, waving a hand. “Had to make sure you got home safely and all, it was the least I could do.”

You both looked at each other for a moment, faces soft. You shot him another appreciative smile, and popped open the car door.

“Goodnight, Steve Harrington. Until we meet again!”

You knew the chances of seeing him ever again were slim at best, but it felt like the right thing to say, given the hilarity of the situation. After slamming the door shut, you rooted through your bag for your keys, taking the steps up to your door two at a time. Before heading inside, you turned and waved to the car one more time - Steve wasn’t visible through the tinted windows, but you liked to imagine that he was waving back, maybe even smiling fondly. 

******

Two days later, an envelope was pushed through the mail slot in your door. It was Robin who brought it in, plopping it down on the kitchen table as you sipped your coffee.

“What’s that?” you asked.

She shrugged, carding through the other envelopes and flyers.

“Don’t know. But, it’s made out to you. The envelope looks fancy though - I mean, who the Hell puts a wax seal on letters anymore?”

You felt your heart skip a beat, and snatched it up, turning it over in your hands - it was thick, the nice kind of stationary that you had to go out of your way to buy. There was a return address, but it seemed like it was for an office building of some kind, with no name associated. And, right on the center, a red wax seal with an H. You felt your face grow hot, your stomach doing somersaults as you practically tore the thing open.

Inside was a simple piece of paper with a note scrawled on it. After writing out your name, it read:

Thank you again, for the other night. You have no idea how much that helped me out. Plus, it was probably the best time I’ve had at a work event… well, ever. But, since you provided such great service… you really should be tipped appropriately. I also made sure to leave a glowing review with your manager the next day. Buy yourself something nice.

S.H.

You glanced back in the envelope, and gasped - loudly enough that Robin stopped what she was doing, and joined you in her awe.

“Is that -”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “It’s a shit ton of money.”

He had sent a stack of €100 notes - you hadn’t counted yet, but it had to be over €1,000, at least. 

“Dude, that’s like, at least two months’ rent right there, right?” Robin asks, flabbergasted.

“I - yeah.”

“Okay, be honest - are you a drug dealer? Is that, like, a side gig you’ve got going?”

You shook your head incredulously, gripping the money - the most cash you had ever held at one time in your life.

“No,” you admitted. “That would be a lot easier to explain.” Steve Harrington, you thought to yourself, what’s your deal?

Notes: a brand new fic! A ton of credit goes to my friend Em, who indulges my fantasies and headcanons with plenty of ideas of her own. Also, I've never been to Rome, so bear with me here. Also, please always read content warnings before reading each part!

Reply if you'd like to be added to the taglist

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

half past five high - prologue: when we met in venice (part 1)

pairing: photographer!Joshua x influencer fem!reader

genre: comedy, drama, fluff, strangers to enemies to ????

warnings: alcohol and food consumption, cursing, drama, minor violence and involvement of the police

word count: 2.9k

summary: in the world of fashion, social media and influence, you're one of the game changers. But you never knew that a smaller player in the form of a freelance photographer would be able to change you.

Author's note: hello I am indeed alive and so is this series!! this is also part of the SVTHUB World Tour collab hosted by @svthub!

p.s.1: in case you wonder why the teaser part isn't included in this fic.... it's because I split it in half heheheheh

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2024. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

Fashion Week. Probably one of the most exciting weeks in your life, even more than Christmas.

A week full of runway shows and models dressed in extravagant outfits, interviews with designers from all over the world and huge chances of expanding your network all over the world.

Every single year, you’ve never failed to attend the shows, no matter the city it takes place in and this year is no exception. 

Your recent collaboration with Prada landed you an illustrious invitation to the front rows of their fashion show and you would never miss the chance to visit Venice, given the fact it has been on your travel bucket list for ages.

And here you are, on the grand night, sitting on the front row with Liz, your trusty helper, amongst other celebrities with names brighter than diamonds. Under other circumstances, you would have felt at least intimidated, but knowing that some of these celebrities follow you on social media is a huge ego boost for you.

The show begins and you fall silent, your eyes watching the stunning yet stoic looking models parade on the catwalk, each one of them dressed with the latest designs. You can hear faint whispers from all around you, probably discussing (or criticizing) about the clothes.

Fucking stuck up idiots, you think. A bit ironic, but it doesn’t stop you from making this thought.

Nevertheless, you decide to stop bothering with the rest of the guests and focus your sights on the runway, keeping mental notes of the sleek designs, occasionally whipping out your phone to keep photos and videos of the event.

A few hours later, you enjoy a glass of pink champagne, casually walking through the halls of Centro Congressi of San Servolo. Your ears catch conversations made in multiple languages, Italian being the dominant one - you are in Italy, after all.

“I know we’ve been in fashion shows before, but something about Venice feels so….classy.” Liz looks around the hall with curious eyes.

“Keep your eyes peeled, darling, it will be a great chance for you to learn even more.” You send her a wink.

“Y-Yes, of course, Miss!” 

“Jesus Christ, you can just call me by my name, it’s not like we’re that apart in terms of age!”

“I- No, I never even thought of that!” The blond girl gestures apologetically, “It’s purely out of respect and courtesy.”

“How did I get so lucky with you?” You pat her head gently, still holding your glass in your hand, “Don’t worry too much though - You can always help yourself to a glass of champagne.”

Liz gives you a hearty smile, but that smile turns into a scared expression as you’re about to turn around to walk away, not noticing the incoming man behind you.

“Miss Y/N, watch out-”

You let out a scream in the middle of the hall, as you bump into the unknown man and his glass of champagne crashes and spills all over your Prada outfit, drenching the expensive fabrics.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry-” The man apologizes honestly, “Wait, let me help-”

“Don’t you fucking dare, you asshole!” You snap at him, “Are you even aware of how expensive my outfit is?!”

“I do, that’s why I wish to help!” 

“Yeah, I can see how much you’re helping right now!”

“Miss Y/N, please, let’s not cause a scene!” Liz begs you to stop yelling, as she tries to calm you down.

“Maybe you should listen to your friend,” he comments, “She’s clearly more composed than you.”

“What did you say?” You narrow your eyes at the infuriatingly handsome man.

“Miss Y/N, let’s just g-”

With a swift motion, you splash your remaining champagne over his face and throw the glass on the marbled ground, the loud noise making more heads turn towards you.

“If you knew where the fuck you were going, none of this would have happened, asshole!” You turn on your heel angrily and Liz follows right behind, bowing repeatedly, as a form of apology.

The young man stands in the middle of the hall like a frozen pole, unable to form a sentence. He takes a few looks around and notices lots of other guests looking at him with mockery and disdain written all over their faces. He’s certain that the whole incident will make the tour of the online world until the end of the night and the tour of the TV morning gossip shows until the next day arrives.

A waiter approaches the man and wordlessly hands him a cotton napkin, the latter accepting it with a nod of his head to clean whatever he could from his ruined outfit.

"Anything else I can do to help you, sir?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid," He sighs in defeat, "but thank you nonetheless."

The next morning finds you in your hotel room, angrily watching the news tabloids about the champagne incident with two eye patches on your under eye area and a pitch black coffee in your hand.

"Preposterous. Utterly preposterous!" You close the TV and throw the remote controller on the bed.

"Miss Y/N, I'm really sorry for what happened," Liz hangs her head in shame, "If only I had noticed him coming towards you sooner-"

"If you feel so bad for everything that happened last night and you want to prove that you're not useless, find me that man's info!" 

“I already did that last night, Miss.”

“Then why didn’t you say so?!”

“You were asleep, Miss!” Liz defends herself. “It's rude to wake up someone in the middle of their sleep.”

“What’s the point of not ruining my sleep, if my career is falling apart within mere moments?!” You yell at her.

“I’m sorry! I’m just trying my best to support you, but yelling at me won’t help at all!” Liz retaliates and you nearly gasp from her newfound resolve.

You let out a deep sigh and sit on the bed, crossing your legs.

“You’re right. You’re actually the only person that has done nothing wrong.” You rub your temples with your fingers. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay, I understand your frustration.” Liz responds with a small smile, “If you still want to discuss about that gentleman’s info-”

“Gentleman?! He ruined my clothes!”

“I know! But he still tried to help-”

“Just give me his info, Liz.”

She hands over her tablet to you and your fingers start swiping on the screen, browsing through the notes Liz has kept.

“Joshua Hong, freelance photographer? Eh, I expected more.” You grimace in disappointment.

“I think he’s very talented. He’s definitely not as pompous as other photographers who have made a name for themselves.”

“Whose side are you on again?”

“Yours! I’m just….sharing my first impression of him…”

“You find him charming, don’t you?” You raise your eyebrow at her.

“But he is!”

You stare at the tablet screen, your eyes fixated on the profile picture of his Instagram account.

His facial features are so balanced and his skin is so perfect and you know it's not a filtered photo - with your experience, you know when a photo on social media is filtered, and this one is very much real.

“Yeah. In a very infuriating way.”

"Did he really bother you that much?"

"Well duh!" 

"It was still an accident-"

"That made me the center of all social media gossip and drama!"

You pause right after finishing your sentence, the gears in your head spinning faster than the wheels of a Ferrari.

"Um, Miss Y/N?"

"Liz, I will need your help."

"Of course, but what for?"

A Cheshire cat grin spreads on your lips.

"Why, addressing the situation of course."

"You plan on releasing a statement?"

"Of course. Can't let the whole drama unattended, right?" You take a sip from your coffee.

"Miss, are you sure about this?"

"One hundred percent. I promise, it won't take more than ten minutes. Then we can go get a proper breakfast by the pool."

“Seriously, she just dropped a whole glass on you because you accidentally dropped a glass on her?”

“Crazy, I know,” Joshua sighs, “and because of that, my face is all over the paparazzi news!”

“At least you’re looking good in front of the camera!”

“Cheol, can you please be serious about this? My career is hanging by a thread!”

“It was just a petty dispute, people will forget about it in a few days,” Seungcheol replies calmly, “You just got a champagne bath, you weren’t caught by the police for drug trafficking.”

“Well, if you put it that way, it doesn’t sound as bad.”

“See? You just need to be chill about it. It’s not the end of the world.”

“But still, she sounded so fucking entitled, like?”

“Well, she’s a top class influencer, what did you expect?”

“She’s a what now?”

“Really now, Josh?” Seungcheol sighs in disappointment.

"I'm a photographer, not someone who sells fairytales and Pinterest-related stuff on social media." Joshua scoffs.

"It still doesn't change the fact that you live under a rock."

"I was literally invited to Fashion Week, fuck you Cheol."

"Either way, I suggest you look into her social media, just to be prepared."

"Fine, whatever - Wait, prepared for what?"

"For any possible scenario!"

"You said that it wasn't something serious not too long ago!"

"I did. But it's always wise to have a backup plan in case things go south."

"That last bit felt really ominous…."

"You can always not pay attention to me!"

"Don't you have a job to do?"

"I am my own boss, in case you're forgetting." Seungcheol snickers.

"You remind me with every chance you get…" Joshua groans.

"I love you too, Josh. Gotta go now, buddy, it was nice talking to you."

"Good luck out there, Cheol."

"Could say the same for ya."

Joshua ends the call and drops his phone on the mattress, deciding to get dressed and visit the hotel restaurant for some brunch.

His phone rings again, but it's multiple notifications this time.

"Someone's impatient…" He mutters to himself as he picks up his phone again.

seungcheol: I fear I might have jinxed your downfall

seungcheol: please stay calm while you're reading the next screenshot

seungcheol has sent a photo.

Joshua opens the photo and carefully reads the white text on the black background, the blood in his body steadily rushing to his head.

Hello, this is Y/N. I am writing this post to address the situation that occured last night in San Servolo. 

First of all, I am deeply sorry for the trouble I caused to the rest of the guests and the organizers of the event, as it does not reflect the person I truly am. However, I must say that major damages occurred due to mister Joshua Hong's carelessness, since the outfit I donned was custom made by the house of Prada.

I am willing to put this unfortunate incident to rest, as long as the perpetrator is also willing to compensate for the damages made.

Once again, I am sorry for the trouble I caused. 

"What the fuck is this?!" Joshua yells in the middle of his room and rapidly types back to Seungcheol.

joshua: IS SHE FUCKING SERIOUS

joshua: COMPENSATION? SHE DELIBERATELY RUINED MY CLOTHES TOO

seungcheol: josh calm down for Christ's sake

joshua: how am I supposed to calm down after this??

joshua: bitch took her own narrative and ran with it

joshua: bet you this is already circling around the gossip tabloids

seungcheol: do you want me to contact my lawyer and see what we can do?

joshua: no not yet

joshua: desperate times call for desperate measures

seungcheol: joshua please don't

Joshua chooses to ignore his friend's texts and reaches out for the telephone on his nighstand, in order to call the reception.

He knows Prada has reserved rooms for all the ambassadors in this hotel, so you must be staying in the same hotel as him.

"Hotel Baglioni de Luna, how may I help you?"

"Good morning, this is Joshua Hong."

"Oh, hello sir Hong! What can I do for you?"

"If it is possible, could you perhaps tell me if miss…Y/N L/N is present in her room?"

"She called not too long ago to ask about the morning buffet. I supposed she must be taking breakfast."

"Thank you kindly for your help." 

"Have a good morning, sir Hong."

Definitely not good, but might as well make it hell for her, Joshua thinks as he ends the call. 

He gets up and opens his closet, taking out a pair of jeans and a linen shirt, quickly changing into them. He slips on his shoes and grabs his phone, room key and wallet before he leaves.

"Let's see what you will do now, miss Y/N."

If Satan had an only child, you would probably be the one.

You're happily enjoying your breakfast together with Liz right next to the pool, humming a happy tune as you take a bite from your cookie.

"Is it really possible to be so happy from one person's misery?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, darling." You reply with a smile on your face.

Liz sighs deeply and resumes eating her breakfast.

"There you are, you poisonous bitch!"

The loud voice nearly makes the girl jump from her seat, but you remain unfazed, until Joshua is stomping his way to your table, slamming his phone on the surface.

"What do you think you're doing?" You look at him with narrowed eyes.

"I should be asking you that question!" He shoves the phone in your face with your statement on it, "Compensation? Contacting the company?! Bitch, we're ambassadors of the same brand!"

"Yet you were the first one to ruin my outfit!" You angrily get up from your seat.

"And you were the one who ruined mine on purpose!" Joshua retaliates.

"Both of you, please stop causing a scene again, everyone is looking!" Liz tries to separate the two of you, noticing how everyone is staring at you and Joshua, just like last night.

"Perhaps I should release a statement as well and sue you for defamation - At least I'm kind enough to warn you beforehand." He spits with a venomous tone.

"Oh, because that would be so beneficial to someone who is as insignificant as you. Freelance photographer, my ass. You're just another paparazzi who wants the few minutes of fame!" 

Your words make Joshua furious beyond the point of return and he picks up your coffee cup, splashing it all over you in the same manner you threw champagne on him.

"There, now we're even, you dramatic bitch."

"Mister Hong!" Liz yells at him, "What is wrong with you?!"

You grit your teeth and raise your right hand, immediately slapping him across the face with full force, making sure it left a handprint on his face.

"You are the worst person I've ever met in my life!"

"I could say the same about you!"

Your anger consumes you and you physically lunge yourself at him, pulling him by the shirt to tackle him. Unfortunately for you, he's much stronger than you and he manages to retain his balance, giving him an opening to push you against the table and knock over some of the plates.

"You asshole!" You yell and get back on your feet, pushing Joshua away. This time, he actually loses his balance and falls into the pool.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He yells at you as he tries to get out of the pool.

"You're the one who made me do it in the first place!"

Liz stands at the sidelines, watching the scene unfold with horror and she runs to one of the waiters without hesitation.

"Call the hotel security, or the police! Just call someone, please!"

The waiter nods and rushes to the mini bar, shortly asking the staff to alert the security.

Only a couple of minutes later, two men of the hotel security barge through the glass doors and make their way to the pool, where two more waiters are trying to separate you from Joshua.

"Stop right there!" They yell and apprehend the both of you, waving at the waiters to stand aside.

"Let me go! He's the one who started it!" You yell out loud.

"You can say that to the police when they arrive," the other man informs you, "you've already caused a great deal of discomfort to the rest of the guests and damages to the area."

"But-"

"Oh, just shut up already!" Joshua curses at you again.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion, asshole!"

The security have to forcefully bring you down to the ground level of the hotel, where two police cars are parked outside the entrance. 

"One of your staff told us about the situation, that's why we brought two vehicles - we can't suffer damages either." The police officer explains as he handcuffs you and Joshua separately, leading you towards the cars.

"Wait!" Liz runs outside, "Let me go with her!"

"We cannot allow that, Miss. You might be called in later by the officers for a testimony, but that's all you can do."

"Liz!" You shout from inside the car.

"Yes ma'am?!"

"Call my lawyer and tell her everything!"

"Will do!" She shouts back and watches the officers return in the vehicles, taking you and Joshua away.

She looks behind her, multiple guests and hotel staff discussing with disapproval written all over their faces. It's guaranteed that photos and videos will already circulate the Internet and the damage control will be insanely hard to complete.

"Lord give me the strength to pull through this."

[mcu-4-you]

War Child

Part one

Bucky Barnes x (Fem) Reader

Avengers x (Fem) Reader

Warnings: Blood, mention of deaths, other creepy hydra shit, bad language words (lol) and a lot more other warnings, so be prepared.

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton (Sometimes) Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner (Sometimes) Thor Odison, Loki Laufeyson, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Bucky Barnes, Yelena Belova, Arnim Zola,

Description: You're a hydra experiment or had been one since you were young, For years you lived within the cold walls of Siberia and when you finally get free, faces from the past and demons come out to haunt you Reader is an enchanted superhuman, she has the super soldier serum giving her, super speed, super strength, a healing factor, fast metabolism, endurance, strong lung capacity & etc, she also has both fire and ice magic. The time line in this will review the past and present. Reader can look anyway you want. Her soon love interest will be Bucky. Authors Note: Please know that none of these characters belong to me, they belong to marvel, Y/N is your character of choice. also your thoughts will be orange, Bucky's thoughts will be blue and the others will be purple

Avengers tower present 9:34 am Avengers pov

Gathered around table enjoying breakfast and conversation sits the avengers, everyone seems happy, Bucky and Loki bantering with one another about who can do bad better, Steve acting like a mom and Tony being the overgrown brat, Wanda, Natasha and Yelena talking quietly amongst each other in sokovian, then there's Peter, Pietro, Sam and Thor arguing about how many bad guys they can beat in a fight, like family they're fun and chaotic. Everything seemed to go quiet when the leather jacket wearing, eye patched man walks in with a file and flash drive, the atmosphere once relaxed and playful now tense and serious, as all eyes land on the director Nick Fury. "Hope i'm not souring the mood." he says his tone, dripping with his usual uncaring sarcasm. "Anyways." he continues, "We have a problem, a big one, a loose cannon hydra related one." He sets down the file on the middle of the table and Bucky is the first to grab it, the minute he opens it, the color from his face drains, there it was a whole section dedicated to you, a ghost is what you are, one he was made to train when he was The winter soldier, a deadly weapon is what you became, just like him, but unlike him, he was captured, but you, you were born and raised into a hell, and turned into something so deadly.

Steve looks at Bucky and raises a brow in concern and curiosity, Steve pauses debating whether he should say anything but he decides to anyway, "Hey Buck, you alright, you look a little pale." Bucky snaps out of his current thoughts and glances at Steve and the rest of the team and he swallows, a shaky sigh leaving his lips and he says "I know her, i knew her." Every member of the team gives each other looks before nodding and taking turns to look at the entire file and Sam speaks "So where do we start?"

Italy present

Your Pov I arrive back into my rented apartment, after getting some needed food and water, i knew my time here in Italy was running thin but there was something about this place i liked, i couldn't get comfortable though, it was only a matter of time before the devil came knocking. After heating up a simple tv dinner, i sit on the small couch in my living room watching the old school box television, it's on the news channel, the headlines read "Avengers strike once again saving over a hundred innocent civilians from a hostage situation with the terrorist group known as HYDRA." A sigh leaves me and i start eating as i change the channel to a cartoon, it wasn't one i've seen before, it was a blonde with really long hair and a pretty purple dress, now interested i continue to watch the movie and finish my dinner, soon i set my plate aside and just watch tv, i was enjoying the movie more than i'd like to admit. Berlin 1953 (Past & your nightmare) "Papa, i don't understand what you want me to do, you little voice trembles as you look up at the man in front of you, he stare you down and pats you head, his German accent thick as he speaks, "In time, you will learn to master the gift i have given you my child." a grin spreads on Zola's lips, to you it seemed innocent but only if you knew it was anything but innocent.

Your Pov (Present) I jolted awake in a slight sweat, my eyes dart around the room, weariness and confusion etched on my features, i thought i was back hom-there, but i'm in my living room, i'm in Italy, i swallow and wipe my forehead with the sleeve of my sweater and i stand up, my steps are silent on the wood floors as i walk into the kitchen, i fill me a glass of water and gulp it down as if i was a man stuck in the desert. my hands are shaky as i set the glass down and stare at the dark curtained covered windows. "He's gone, no longer here." i tell myself and i make my way to my bathroom, a shower was much needed to calm myself.

Berlin 1954 (Past & Bucky's nightmare) "Soldat! you're back with the stuff." Zola hums in approval and takes the metal case from the winter soldier, he snaps his fingers for the soldier to follow him and the soldier complies without question. Zola leads the soldier into the lab, for a moment the soldier tenses, he didn't think he had another procedure today but then his eyes falls onto you, a girl strapped down onto a table asleep, he blinks, he couldn't tell if it was worry, or surprise but he manages to school it like he was taught, the soldiers eyes follow Zola as he pulls out the bag of super serum, it was a cheap one, not to affective but it'll still work, just not like his, the soldier watches as Zola sticks it into an IV like bag and he watches as Zola stick the IV into you and slowly the serum makes it way to your skin and finally it slips into your blood stream making you jolt in pain and cry out.

Avengers tower (Present) Bucky's room Bucky's Pov His eyes snap open quickly and they dart around, checking for any signs of danger or anyone one at all, nothing it's all silent except for his racing heart and his own breathing, his brows are furrowed as he recalls the nightmare, that day, the day when Karpor made him bring that serum to Zola, that day where your life would change for ever and not for the good, a wave of guilt floods through Bucky as he thinks about that day, how he just watched, and stood there as that evil son of a bitch gave you that serum with no remorse as he hurt and changed you drastically. Bucky knew he had to find you, hell he knew you were lost and confused like he was and like he had steve, you'll have him.

Let me know what you think, i will definitely be making different parts to this story, i'm pausing my other story to work on this one since i had this longer and like this better. Part two is being worked on so stay tuned.

Tag list: @sapphirebarnes i know you wanted to be tagged in my other post but i'm keeping that on hold right now, so i hope you like this one just as much.

[vickyyoon]

You're mine

Genre: Angst but fluff?? (idk)

Paring: yandere!hyunjin fem!reader

Warning: kidnapping

Synopsis : hyunjin the boy who liked you since the first day he saw you finally found your adress

Pt-2 <-here

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You wake up in an unknown place, it was someone's bedroom you never been to, it was a girls room, the walls were pink with purple lights and stickers, there was a white dressing table with fairy lights around it.

You were sitting on the huge pink bed, where were you? The last thing you remember was throwing your trash in the curb at night because you forgot to throw out the trash.

You leave the room and head downstairs, a delicious scent wafted through the air but your eyes landed on the main door, the exit.

You could tell someone was in the kitchen even from the kitchen, the sounds on a spatula on a pan and the frying sound coming from nearby.

You tip toe hoping not to get caught by the person, your heart was thumping, you were so close to the door when a voice startles you.

" Woke up princess? Take a seat I -" he turned around to see you near the main door, his eyes widened and his brows furrowed.

" what are you doing near that door? You aren't supposed to go anywhere near that! Come back here!" but your hand was already twisting recklessly on the knob trying to get it open.

He grabbed your wrist. " What did I say? Sit down, this was your first and last warning!" he gritted through his teeth.

Who was he? Why did he kidnap you? What is his intention? You were too stunned to speak as he gripped your wrist and dragged you towards the table.

" who are you? Why did you bring me here!" you finally pick up your words and his head turns to you with a shocked expression.

" You don't remember me princess? It's me! Your hyunjin, that boy you saw everyday at school but never really cared about . I finally found your address!" he smirked.

Hyunjin!? That Shy, quiet and introverted boy who always sat at the back of the class? Why would he kidnap you?

" Why would you kidnap me?"

" Well isn't it obvious, I used to follow you around everywhere, I was head over heels in love with you but you were too blind!" he sat you down on the chair.

He suddenly started to feed you, " I can feed myself." you stated but he glared a piercing gaze at you and you silently ate.

After dinner he told you to wash up because you two were going to watch movies together in the living room.

As you entered your bathroom you found the lost shampoo your friend gifted you from Italy, the soap you lost the day you bought it and the towel you used for 7 years.

He's been gathering and stealing small things he thought you wouldn't notice from your house, how long has he been doing this? It was disturbing. You needed to leave this place anyhow.

After shower you saw him waiting for you with a bowl of popcorn.

" you take so long, hurry up I picked some good movies." he acted like you two were dating for years now. It was so weird.

Throughout the whole movies you two were watching you could catch him glancing at you, his arm over your shoulder, your back on his chest tilted, your head rested on his should and neck crotch, he smelled so nice like flowers, his body warmth was so comforting and his hands playing your hair, his touch was so soft. It felt so good, nothing's ever felt this good.

You planned on leaving quitely when he fell asleep but your plan seemed to backfire when you notice him staying awake for ungodly hours, when would he fall asleep? It looked like he'd been drinking coffee just to stay up this late and watch movies with you.

You found yourself almost falling asleep, " aren't you gonna go to bed? How do you stay up so late?" he smiled at you

For some reason his smile was so mesmerizing, in the dark room the tv's light painted his face and he looked so ethreal, he was always handsome but why hadn't you noticed earlier?

You found yourself staring at him for too long when he snapped you back out of it. " Is my baby sleepy? Com'on let's head to bed then" his voice was so soothing, it felt so comforting, something you've yearning your whole life to hear from someone.

You haven't realized how lonely you've been your whole life that even small things like this seem to overwhelm you but what were you thinking? He's literally kidnapped you!? You are really a freak.

When you got in to your bed you felt a warm presence beside you? " y-you're gonna sleep here?" as he looked back at you. " yeah but if you don't like it I can go sleep in my room."

" I-it's fine" what the hell were you saying? You wanted him to sleep with you now? " really? If you say so then, you would have to get used to it anyways. " he inched closer to you, pulling you closer by your waist, placing your leg over his thigh and your head to his chest.

You were too stunned to say anything but it felt so good for some reason, usually small and constant noises woke you up and kept you awake but his heartbeat thumping every now and then suddenly had you falling asleep so much faster and it was so much more relaxing than you would ever expect it to feel.

You used to stay awake all night tossing and turning when all you needed was this, someone to cuddle with and share warmth with and you instantly fell asleep with him running his fingers through your hair, all your stress loosening with each stoke of touch.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Part 2???

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Innocence

Ilsa Faust x Fem! Metropolis Reader

Summary: How many variables go awry with one appearance of a hidden player? What would the Entity have done if a third party appeared in the array of pre-determined, algorithm-generated deaths?

Warnings: Side character death, angst.

A/N: Fuck you Christopher McQuarrie and Erik Jendresen!!!! Killing a beloved female side character to 'motivate' the male protagonist is the definition of FUCKING FRIDGING!!!! The side character death will be resolved, should there be demand for future chapters.

Word Count: 4.0k (DAMN)

Perhaps it had been the rain, the chill it had brought to your bones. But regardless, something was afoot. The streets of Venice were unnaturally quiet, and the party you had left emphasized that fact; a ringing sang in your ears. You walked alone on the streets, quietly enjoying the soft patter of the rain that trembled down the drains. Dodging the Metropolis body guards had been easy, it was a high stakes night for Alanna, a high stakes night for you.

Unfortunately, things did not stay peaceful.

Commotion sprung out among the party goers, and you heard distant gunfire. Things had begun. Sprinting was your only option, but with the heels you'd chosen it was more likely you were to twist an ankle over the cobblestone than escape. Finding a dark corner, you managed to brace yourself against a wall, snapping your heels off, flattening them so you could take longer strides. You weren't the only person using the dark side of the building to escape. A shout, some commotion, and quick footwork as a woman scaled down a building, dropping in front of you.

She was within a foot of you, so close that on motion of the arm could land a hit, a punch, or perhaps push away the strands of hair that lay glued to her sweaty face.

“…Hi?”

She makes eye contact with you, momentarily spooked.

“You’re one of the Metropolis siblings."

A statement, and observation.

"Yes...?"

"You're not supposed to be at this party."

The two of you stared at one another for some time, both of you breathing heavily. She had blue eyes, distinct Scandinavian features. An English accent amongst the native Italian accented english. You pinned her as a foreigner, and from the equipment she used and the quick way she discerned who you were and your presumed whereabouts, she was also an intelligence operative.

“MI6?” you rasped.

The woman shook her head, a flicker of annoyance creeping over her features.

“There’s no time to talk, come on.” she huffed, grabbing you arm and pulling you towards an alleyway.

“Now hold on, I don’t know you-”

She turned on her heel, pulling the two of you into a doorway alcove, keeping her words clipped and quietly delivered.

“You’re (Reader) Metropolis. You were not supposed to be at this party, you weren’t even supposed to be in Italy. Things are going on beyond your understanding, and the Entity-”

“-The Entity? For fucks sake, that’s a myth.”

The woman raised her eyebrow, computing your response rapidly.

“No. No it is not. I’ve read your profile, the youngest child, a ten, fifteen year age gap between you and Alana?” the woman listed. “You were an affair baby, you were just recently integrated into the family, you serve as a glorified accountant…” Ilsa listed. “You aren’t a Metropolis type, even with your name and lineage.”

She spoke so eloquently, in a self-assured manner. You wanted to argue with her, or at the very least find something in her thought process to correct, but she was right on all accounts.

“Fine. Why are we in a dark alleyway, why do you know so much about me, and why don’t I know a damn thing about you?”

The woman squared her shoulders.

“My name is Ilsa Faust. I was a former agent for British Intelligence, I’ve gone rogue, I work alongside the equally rogue Ethan Hunt. And you, Ms. Metropolis, are innocent.”

Innocence. What a strange thing to equate to you.

“I beg your pardon?” you raised an eyebrow.

Ilsa sighed, looking around before pressing a finger to her headset. 

“Benji. I can’t be the one to go after Grace.”

You watched her grimace, silently mouthing a few choice expletives.

“I know that. But I just… The youngest Metropolis is here. Metropolis, daughter of Max, the...” she paused, looking at you apologetically, “... Bastard child. The daughter of that old field agent friend of Ethan’s.”

She paused, seemingly listening to Benji as the poor man appeared to panic. You could hear the tonal fluctuations from your proximity a good foot aways.

“Yes, but it’s Ethan. He won’t see it that way. I know he'll be upset, but maybe it’s for the better.”

The line went quiet, and then there was a soft command. Ilsa nodded, looking at you.

“You’re coming with me.”

“Like hell I am, my mother taught me about stranger danger.” 

You stood your ground, arms firmly crossed one over the other. Ilsa looked at you tiredly, seeming to mentally prepare herself for some gargantuan task.

“Do me a favor and pretend to be drunk.”

You frowned, not comprehending. Ilsa lunged forward, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you over her shoulder.

“Hey! I’m not a child, and this dress is short!”

Ilsa let out an annoyed huff, reaching up to pull your dress down.

“Sorry, princess.”

You heard commotion, what sounded like men running. Their shouts and mixed dialect could be heard from somewhere a half block away.

“Now is not the time to tell me you’re a bad actor.” Ilsa whispered.

Under threat of exposure, possible abduction and Alanna probably, definitely strangling you should she catch wind of this, complying was the only option. You went limp, arms and neck dangling as the men drew closer. They didn’t give you or Ilsa a second glance. She was mostly overlooked in favor of your bottom, of which you were begrudgingly aware of.

“Good girl.” Ilsa murmured once the men had passed, patting your rear.

“Oh.. Hey!” you blushed.

“Sorry. I was aiming for your back.”

“Yeah, my ass. Literally.” you retorted.

Ilsa let out a startled bark of laughter, amused. But she was quick to set you down, and noting the flimsy nature of your shoes, did so gently. You looked at her, a bit dizzy from the sudden rush of blood from your head to the rest of your body.

“You okay?”

“Give me a second, dizzy.”

But you two had little time. A com from Benji came through on Ilsa’s headset. Ilsa’s face went white, and she proceeded to grab you by your arm, booking it through the winding streets of Venice.

“I’m in heels, you will break my ankle if you keep pulling!” you sourly informed her.

“This is a matter of life and death. Kindly quiet yourself.” Ilsa snapped back.

A matter of life and death? Why was it always one of those? Two figures came into view, both stood atop of a canal bridge. You recognized neither of them, a tall man with salt and pepper hair and another brunette woman. He was stalking over to her, knife in hand. Her breathing was irregular, labored. But Ilsa was faster, approaching Gabriel, assuredly drawing forth a large sword. Gabriel brandished Grace’s switchblade, leaving the woman to pass out on the bridge. 

“I hoped it'd be you.” Gabriel smiled.

“...”

You admired Ilsa's silence, her quiet appraisal of the man. The sparring began almost immediately, and it didn’t take a trained eye to see that they were evenly matched. But something was wrong. He was pushing her into a corner, and then the sword was gone. They fought over the switchblade, each getting a few slashes in. But Ilsa was getting weaker, or clumsier. A brief thought flashed over you. What if she died? What if he saw you? What if he saw you and you didn’t have anything to fight with? You needed that sword. This woman... She'd said that this was a matter of the Entity, and your sister had taken pains to ship you out to Berlin on short notice. You'd taken even larger pains to make it appear as if you had. If you weren't supposed to be here, then maybe you had an advantage over this man, over this Entity. But you had to think fast.

“Hey, asshole!” you shouted, hurling a small, fractured chunk of cobblestone at the man.

The rock hit Gabriel’s forehead just as he looked up, stunning him. It was a good hit, and it bought you time, but not enough. You lunged for the sword, but he was faster. The scuffle that ensued was brief, he was better equipped, and stronger. His eyes went wild as he snatched the switchblade again, aiming for your heart. The switchblade cut into your shoulder, and pain bloomed as the blade wedged itself into the socket. He’d missed. A scream tore its way out of your lungs, and white hot pain flashed through your mind’s eye. A grunt came from above as Ilsa landed a kick to his chest. The sword was knocked loose, toppling over the bridge. And with that the only remaining weapon was the switchblade lodged in your shoulder. Both Ilsa and the mystery man lunged for it, but both pulled back before grabbing it, seemingly for different reasons. The man’s eyes went wide with fear and recognition, and he stalked back quickly.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Metropolis.” he paled. “You were supposed to be in Berlin… You’re not… The Entity didn’t..”

He landed one more kick to Ilsa before running. His footsteps were quick, and he disappeared into the veins of the city, his footsteps dying away as if he was a ghost, as if he was never there. Ilsa watched him, breathlessly speaking to Benji about the semantics of the encounter. She was breathing heavily, and it was difficult to understand her. Both she and Benji devolved into thick, almost indiscernible Midlands accents as they spoke and often interrupted one another. Benji’s voice was so loud that you could hear whispers of it through her headset. Ilsa crouched over you, examining the wound and cussing. She appeared just as frazzled as your mystery attacker, mumbling something about innocents and bloodlines.

“Fuck me, kid. Just had to get stabbed.” Ilsa mumbles, pausing her complaining to briefly tear off a bit of your dress, “And I’ve got another head trauma to deal with, and Ethan is off the fucking grid.”

A man broke through the street, panting heavily, eyeing the slowly awakening Grace and the incoherently mumbling Ilsa as she secured the knife wound to prevent it from escaping. He’d run from the opposite end of the city, as if he’d been running in circles.

“Where’s Gabriel?” Ethan asked. “And who is… Baby Metropolis?” 

Ilsa eyed him, nodding. She was busy tying the fabric of your torn dress around your shoulder. It must have been precaution, the knife prevented excess blood from escaping. 

“He stabbed baby Metropolis?”

Ilsa nodded again, gently picking up your now shivering frame. It was cold in Venice tonight, and without the rush of adrenaline it was very clear just how cold it was. Ethan, or John Lark as you knew him, stumbled forward, hastily taking you from Ilsa.

“It’s going to be okay, it’s all going to be alright.” Ethan says, in his signature ‘I’m saving the day’ voice.

The voice didn’t help. He was John Lark to your eyes; a madman.

“I know, Jesus. Get off!” you protested, trying to get away from the short, scary man.

Ilsa chuckled a bit at this. It appears Ethan’s usual charms wouldn’t work on you, and for good reason. A boat sped through the canal, and you recognized the driver by his voice. Benji? There was another man on the boat, large and equipped with a fedora. Both looked a bit shell-shocked, seeing the aftermath of the commotion on the bridge.

“Luther, get her in the boat.” Benji needlessly directed the other man as he was already pulling Grace in.

Luther examined Grace’s head for signs of abrasion while Ethan and Ilsa lowered you into the boat. Ilsa held you steady, your back pressed against her front, one of her arms wrapped  around your midsection, the other cradling your head as the boat sped through the canal once more. Ethan was hastily gloving up, and a brief concern over sterility dawned on you, but it wasn’t as if you had a choice.

“This is a hospital wound.” Ethan sighed.

“We can’t go to the hospital, Ethan.” Luther warned.

“I know that.” Ethan snapped back. “Cover her mouth.” Ethan directed Ilsa.

Ilsa’s hand fitted firmly over your mouth, her other arm holding your torso against hers. You tensed immediately. What the hell was Lark going to do to you?

“Breathe in and…” Ilsa directed.

Ethan pulled the switchblade out as you exhaled, the scream dying off as you ran out of air. The noise that was ultimately muffled by Ilsa’s hand was that of a high pitched wheeze. Ilsa’s hand remained, a wordless understanding between Ethan and Ilsa. Blood gushed from the wound immediately, and Ethan mumbled something about missing major arteries and cut tendons. Not like it mattered to you, Ilsa’s hand kept your head up, your mouth covered.You couldn’t see the damage for yourself.

“Breathe in, and out. In… Out…. In….” she continued.

With another quick jerk, Ethan pushed your shoulder back in its proper socket. This time your scream was much more audible, even with Ilsa muffling it. Grace winced as she watched. The blade had wedged itself into the socket, it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Good girl, good job.” Ilsa whispered, breaking the tension. “I know it hurts, it would have been worse if you knew it was coming.”

Her hand left your mouth, fingers gently pulling through your hair, a soothing motion. Ethan moved on to stitching up the knife wound, or so you thought. The needle went deeper. 

“Oh Jesus Christ…” Grace paled.

You tilted your head to look, but Ilsa was faster, not letting you see. The needle bit in, and you winced. Ethan had a skilled hand, but it was clear he was stitching something deeper. 

“Ethan, is that really necessary?” Benji asked. “You’ve got her whole shoulder airing out in this dirty city.

“The tendon was sliced, it needs to be stitched up.”

Luther appeared just off to the side, gloved up and gently dabbing iodine all around and in the wound. It stung like a bitch, and you clenched your teeth as you hissed in pain. Your natural instinct directed you to look again, but Ilsa kept your head in place.

“Don’t look. If you look you’ll get hysterical or ill.” Ilsa murmured. “Now stay still.”

You wanted to stay still, you really did. But you didn’t have a pleasant sight. Grace looked practically green, from both her concussion and the sight of your open wound, and Luther had a worried look on his face. Benji wasn’t better, with that permanent anxious frown on his features. The biting sensation in your shoulder only continued as Ethan worked on stitching up the various tendons that had gotten cut. It was Ilsa who noticed your rapid, panicked breathing.

“No, no.” Ilsa protested, tilting your face to look at her. “Look at me, breathe in and out, none of this ragged panting you’re doing. You’re not going into shock, we don’t have time for that.”

Her stern, authoritative approach was what you needed to stay afloat in the midst of Ethan’s suturing. She had this soft frown on her face, her hand firmly holding your head in place as she murmured to you.

“Benji is driving us to the safehouse. You’re coming with us, you hear?”

Ilsa outlined the plan, the various things she was going to do, baths, medicine, sleep, food. All the things you would need to get better. By the time Ethan started suturing the skin, her nose was barely touching yours, her words floating over you like mist. She kept your head in place, murmuring softly as her blue eyes twinkled in the dim light. It was… Intimate. More intimate than other things you’d experienced. Why was it always the barrier between life and death, ailment and health that always brought forth the most romantic moments. It was something your mother had said… All friendships are romantic. Perhaps all beginnings of friendships could be interpreted as such.

“Iodine.” Ethan curtly directed

The yellow antiseptic stung, and you winced. Luther had a gentle hand, and he’d used it throughout the process, but it was the freshly sutured skin that burned the most. Ilsa stroked your cheek, shifting her other arm to hold your injured shoulder in place. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d been trying to move it. 

“No moving this, you hear?”

“Wasn’t gonna.” you mumbled.

The boat stalled. Benji stood up, gesturing everyone to leave the boat, but his words died in his throat. His eyes bulged, a shocked expression on his face. The shot had been so quiet, the whizzing was all that had been audible. Benji jerked, and red bloomed at the front of his chest. Ethan was quick to support him, still gloved up from his work on you. The quiet moment of the canal was broken. Everyone was moving except you. There was arguing, many voices crumpled into one echochamber of chaos, Grace holding Benji as Luther held Ethan back. For a little man, Ethan was vicious when angry, intending to follow the unseen sniper and mercilessly  deliver his body to the canal. The boat rocked violently, and Ilsa shouted continuously, mostly at Ethan to calm down. Her grip on you was tight, her hands placed over vital areas on your abdomen. She was protecting you should another shot fire. Benji met your eyes, his hand held over the gunshot wound. He looked gray, as if life had been sucked out of him the moment the bullet hit its target.

“Gabriel was going to send a message either way.” Benji rasps, his voice bringing sense back into Ethan.

Ilsa left you on the boat as she helped Grace carry Benji into the safehouse. It was clear that there would be no second shot, and you were safe in the belly of the boat. Ethan breathed irregularly, the muscles in his neck tensing and relaxing as he seemed to be pushing aside his anger. He too left the boat, leaving Luther to attend to you. There was an uneasy stillness in the air, and Luther moved to pick you up, pausing at the brief fear that appeared in your eyes.

“I’m… You don’t know who most of us are, do you?” he asked, intuitive in more ways than one.

You shook your head, taking a breath in to steady your nerves before answering.

“I know… Ilsa. Ilsa Faust, yeah? Umm.. Then there’s Lark. John Lark.”

You’d heard all of their names at least once, but you couldn’t list them in the aftermath of Benji’s snipe attack.

“That’s Ethan.” Luther corrected. “The brunette is Grace, Benji is the Englishman who’s been injured, and I’m Luther. Now let’s get you out of this boat.” he softly finished.

You pegged him as the gentle giant of the group, and he was. Gentle, at least. He carried you off of the boat, up the stairs into the Venetian safehouse. It was as still as the water outside. Why was it so still? Such a large city, and yet it felt like a ghost town. There were no arguments now. Grace sat in a corner, a bag of peas on her head. Ethan and Ilsa were in a separate room, quietly conversing as they treated Benji, as you presumed they were doing. No hospitals, they’d said. What kind of people couldn’t go to hospitals?

“Here’s some of Ilsa’s clothes. Tank top, and sweats. Bathroom’s over there.” Luther pointed. 

He stepped into the room with his other friends. It was the only room with light in the stone house. The clothes looked fresh, and your dress was dirty and torn. You didn’t see the point in maintaining your privacy with Grace staring off into space and the others presumably holding vigil over Benji. But it was difficult, grabbing the zipper. Gabriel had struck you in your more flexible, left shoulder. You couldn’t grab the zipper with your right hand.

“Here.” Grace murmured, getting up to unzip your dress. “It’s just us girls, let’s get you into these.”

Grace gently pulled off your dress, working the tank top over your injured shoulder and sliding the joggers up your body. You noticed her tired movements. She’d suffered a pretty decent blow to the head. Concussions were no joke. From this distance you could clearly make out the lines around her mouth as she pursed her lips, helping you to dress.

“Thanks. Grace, right?” you quietly asked, breaking the unnatural stillness.

She nodded, brown eyes losing their glassy look.

“Yes. You’re Baby Metropolis?”

“Oh, no my name is (Reader) Metropolis. I’m the baby of the family.” you explained.

“Ah.”

Grace settled beside you on the couch. Her shirt was half unbuttoned. But it didn’t matter. It was just us girls.

“He’s not going to make it.” Grace murmured. “If he was going to live, they should have taken him to a hospital the moment he was shot.”

You looked down at your hands, the constant pain in your shoulder contrasting with the numbness everywhere else. Benji. He’d… Somehow he was important. A piece of the puzzle, someone who struck you as innocent. Perhaps that was why his death seemed so irrational. 

“Are you in pain?” Grace realized. “That’s a dumb question, of course you are.”

She got up, rummaging through an open medical bag until she found what she was looking for. Her footsteps were soft, bare feet delicately navigating the creaky floorboards with practiced agility. She was a con of some sort. No one else would instinctively avoid the creaky floorboards of an old house.

“Take two of these.” she says.

“Extra strength tylenol?” you joked.

“Stronger.” Grace murmured, half-smile on her face.

You nodded, taking the meds. There was nothing in your stomach, so the meds dissolved quickly, taking away the pain in as little as fifteen minutes. They came with a distinct drowsy side effect, as if the world was a bit floaty. Grace wasn’t the only one who was anxious to sleep, and the two of you crept into the larger bedroom after finding a few croissants to snack on. Two king beds and empty dressers, divided into girls and boys, or so you presumed. The two of you settled under the covers, closing your eyes. Sleep came quickly. Somewhere in the twilight of the early morning, Ilsa slid into the bed behind you, an arm draped over your abdomen as you laid on your back. You didn’t need the answer to why she was so clingy. Or perhaps you had it wrong. But you wouldn’t protest this stranger’s touches. No, there was a bond there now. You’d survived such an ordeal together, such a crisis as the one you were bound in. And it felt nice, to be sandwiched in between Grace and Ilsa. You were safe here.

Morning broke, but the sun did not break this quiet. There wasn’t a word spoken. The atmosphere in the room was somber. No one needed to say it, Benji had passed. Ethan’s dead look as he sat on the couch confirmed any suspicion. Luther cooked breakfast for everyone, maintaining a sense of normality. Ethan wouldn’t accept any of Ilsa’s soft attempts to bring him food, and he wouldn’t accept her beside him, either. The Entity had taken a divergent route in its predictions. Grace and Ilsa had been failed targets, so the Entity chose to take Ethan Hunt’s friend instead. And Ethan, being the savior he was, took it hard. 

“Over here.” Grace murmured, gesturing Ilsa over to where the both of you sat.

Ilsa settled on the rug, predictably taking a seat next to you. She didn’t outright drape an arm over you, but her knee touched yours. It was a soft, innocent gesture. She wanted closeness, and you did too. Your knees stayed touching. Grace noticed the little dynamic between the two of you, shifting a little closer so she could get in on it too. Her knee came into contact with yours on the other side. Three pairs of feet lined up, three legs nestled close, shoulders flanking yours on both sides. It was cute, and you giggled, triggering Grace’s laugh too. Ilsa smiled, humming in amusement. And for a brief moment, Ethan’s eyes flickered with something other than sorrow. He picked up the plate Ilsa had left on the coffee table. And he ate. 

<-->

[hayakawalove]

Sugar Coated

Description: Once you got Suguru's phone number, the two of you texted nonstop. You really didn't see a problem with it, it's not like Satoru was your boyfriend. He really wouldn't mind. Well, you thought he wouldn't at least. When he finds out, he decides to put Suguru in his place. (PART THREE OF MY “Sugar” SERIES)

TW: Smut, Daddy kink, Jealousy, Possessive Sex, Cuckolding, Vaginal Fingering, Mirror Sex, Dirty Talk, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Dacryphilia, Elements of dub con not extremely but like sort of, Sugar Daddy, Nipple Play, Spit Kink, Anal Mention, Comfort, Fem Reader, AFAB Reader

A/N: I HIGHLY recommend reading parts one and two first, as this won't make a ton of sense without it. I had to start all over as this got deleted so it took me a bit longer than I wanted to to get this out.

Shout out to @zeninsama for coming up with a LOT of this part. They really made it happen. Also shout out to @icepopbucky23 on Archive of Our Own for uttering the words sugar daddy gojo to me.

W/C: 6,036

Part One

Part Two

Credit to @hitobaby for the banner

The day was like any other. Satoru texted you bright and early this morning to see if you wanted to grab lunch together, and of course you said yes. As long as you pay you told him. He chuckled and responded, when do I not? After that, you spent the morning getting ready.

Your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your thoughts. Peering away from the mirror, you see a message from Suguru pop up on your phone. 

Suguru: Hey beautiful.

Your cheeks flush at the compliment. The two of you had been texting back and forth for the past couple of weeks. You were surprised you hadn’t met him before, since him and Satoru were so close. High school best friends, Suguru told you. The image of Satoru in highschool sent you into a fit of laughter. He must have been a real handful. You told Suguru. Oh, he was. He said back. 

You: Hey! 

You text Suguru back and fix your outfit. Satoru was parked outside waiting for you, but you figured he could wait a little longer. 

Suguru: What’re you up to? 

You: Satoru and I are going out to eat, you? 

Suguru: Sounds fun. I was just finishing some things up for work. 

Your delicate hands hold the phone close to your chest. 

You: Sounds boring. Want something to cheer you up? 

You lift your phone up in front of you in the full body mirror. Your outfit wasn’t anything too extreme. A sundress Satoru had gotten you from Italy several months ago. The white fabric cinched at your waist and accentuated your body. 

With a click you take the picture and send it to Suguru. Your body filled with excitement at the prospect of him seeing you dressed up. 

Dots pop up on the screen, indicating Suguru was typing a response. 

Suguru: Beautiful. You always take my breath away.

Your face heats in embarrassment. He was always so kind to you, always saying something that filled you with happiness. It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t say such things to you, but the two of you had been together for years. Part of you had gotten used to the things he said and how it made you feel. 

You smile down at your phone before a loud horn shakes you from replying. 

Suddenly you remember Satoru was waiting outside for you. A rush of guilt washes over you but it’s quickly replaced. You and Satoru weren’t exclusive, he had made that fact very clear from the beginning of your arrangement. 

Instead of replying, you stuff your phone in your purse and grab the bag, heading out the door to meet Satoru.

You and Satoru decided on a small restaurant. It was one of your favorite spots. A cute breakfast place, one that was empty more than half the time. He took you to fancy restaurants more often than not, but there was something special about this hole in the wall joint. You walk in the door and pick a booth to sit at. Before sliding in, you decide you wanna respond to what Suguru said last. 

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.” 

Satoru raises his brows at you and sits down, looking at the menu. 

“Let me know if you need any help.” He teases. 

You roll your eyes with a smile and make your way towards the bathroom. 

Once alone, you allow your fingers to carefully lift your dress up, a peek of your underwear showing at the bottom. Angling your camera towards your groin, you take another picture to send to Suguru. Your heart pounds in your chest as you send it to him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen intimate parts of you before, but heat still spread across your cheeks nonetheless. 

Suguru: You’re so naughty, such a bad girl.

Remembering Satoru was still waiting outside for you, you rush out the door, sliding to sit next to him. 

“I told you to let me know if you needed any help.”

You see a smile spread across his face. If you learned anything about Satoru in your time together, it was that he liked to mess around. 

“Yeah, right.” You snort. 

“I’m serious. Maybe I should buy you a life alert? That way if you fall in the toilet I can come valiantly rescue you.” 

A cheeky grin spreads across his face and you force yourself to look away. 

“If anything you’re the one who needs a life alert. You’re like a billion years old, your hip may crack at any moment.” 

His bottom lip juts out as he pouts, filling you with a sense of victory. 

“I’m only a couple years older than you!” 

You snatch the menu from his hands, your eyes skimming the items. 

“I don’t know, being a sugar daddy isn’t exactly young man behavior.” 

“Doesn’t seem to bother you.” 

The rest of your meal was spent in jest, the two of you making fun of each other. You were spending the rest of the day with him, and it felt nice to just be able to relax. 

~~~

You wring your hair out in a towel as you step back into the living room. After the two of you got back to Satoru's apartment, you sat together and watched several movies. You just recently decided to step away to shower. The soft glow from the TV dances off the walls of Satoru’s expensive apartment. 

“Hey daddy, do you want to head to bed yet or-“ you start, words stopping short once you see him. 

Satoru sat on his expensive couch with your phone in his hands. 

“What’s this bunny? Been talking with my dear friend Suguru?” 

Heat immediately fills your cheeks. It wasn’t like you and Satoru were exclusive, once again that much was already made abundantly clear. But embarrassment still filled your veins at the prospect of Satoru finding out you had been talking with Suguru. The only other times you had talked with him was because Satoru had allowed it. 

“No, why would you say that?” You fluster out, stomping over to him and reaching for your phone. 

Satoru stands up in a flash, using his height to his advantage as he holds your phone out of reach. 

“Oh no? So you don’t want him to stuff you until you can’t-“ He begins, your hand flying up to clamp down over his mouth.

“Okay fine! But I don’t see a problem with that! Give it back Satoru!” You groan. 

“Gotta try harder than that, baby.” He teases, his teeth flashing in the dull light. 

You stand on your tiptoes and snatch your phone from his hands, only to be held tightly against his body. 

“You want Suguru?” You feel a hum against your throat as Satoru begins to place kisses against you. 

“Why don’t you tell me what you want Suguru to do?” He asks, his hands gripping you close. 

“I-I don’t know.” You murmur out, head beginning to feel hazy. 

“You don’t know?” Satoru asks incredulously, his fingers brushing against your lower back. 

“That’s too bad. It’s a good thing we have something to remind you.” 

Satoru easily pulls your phone back from your hand. 

He places a kiss against your lips before sliding past you, walking straight to his room. You're snapped out of the daze as soon as he leaves, your feet tripping over one another as you follow him.

“Satoru!” You yell. 

Satoru stops short in front of his floor length mirror, body turning to face you. 

“Yes baby?” 

“Give it back.”

“Now why would I do that? The fun is just getting started.”

You stop in front of him, hand outstretched waiting for your phone. Satoru grabs your hand and pulls you forward, wrapping it around his neck. He holds your phone away as he dips down to smash his lips against yours. It catches you off guard so much so that the air is swept from your lungs. Your feet wobble beneath you, desire quickly filling your veins. 

He pulls away and moves you in front of him, your body facing the mirror. His hands roam up the sides of your waist, eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. 

“Look at you.” Satoru’s voice dips, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

Your knees shake when you feel the pads of his fingers drag over your thighs. 

“You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?” He questions, already knowing the answer. You briefly wonder why he even bothers to ask. 

You’re wound around his finger so tightly you don’t know where you end and where he begins. He could tell you to crawl on your hands and knees for him, and you wouldn’t even hesitate. 

You stutter a nod, completely entranced by him. He helps lower you into a sitting position on the floor. 

Satoru sits behind you with his legs spread, keeping you snug between them. His hand travels down your legs, mouth centimeters from your ear. 

“Keep these open for me.” 

His fingers trail over your shorts, grazing over your core. There is clothing separating you, but it already feels too sensitive. 

“Let’s start from here.” He says. 

Satoru brings your phone back into view, one hand holding it in front of you while the other grinds against your core. 

Your eyes flick up to the screen in front of you, messages coming into view. 

“Read this for me. I can read Suguru’s parts. Think you can do that?” He asks. 

Your head stutters a nod. 

“Miss you suguru.” You start, voice trembling. 

“Nice and clear for daddy.” 

Your mouth drops open, the pressure of his hand against your cunt tantalizing.

“Wish you were here. My fingers aren’t good enough.” You continue to read softly, hips bucking up to get more from Satoru. 

Satoru shimmies your shorts off for you, spreading your legs open once more. 

“Wish I was there too princess. Need me to fuck you?” Satoru reads, fingers returning to your aching core. 

Satoru pulls away from the phone, looking over your shoulder at his hands. 

“My fingers not good enough?” He pouts, fingers rubbing over your clit. 

Your eyebrows furrow at the feeling. 

“No, it’s good, so good.” You moan out. 

He kisses your neck in response, briefly placated. Satoru’s thumb scrolls down on the messages, finding another part for you to read. 

“Keep going baby.” He orders. 

His left middle finger shallowly dips in your pussy, a yelp falling from your mouth. 

“I want you to fuck my ass, please I know you’ll stretch me out.” You try to read. 

A shiver runs up your spine once Satoru presses his finger fully inside of you, your walls quickly accommodating him. 

Satoru chuckles behind you. 

“You want me to stretch you out? I can do that baby.” Satoru reads. 

Your back arches away from Satoru, your body craving more. 

“We haven’t even done that bunny. You’d let Suguru do it first?” He complains. 

“N-no want you too, need you too daddy.” You say breathlessly. 

“You want both? My baby’s so greedy isn’t she?” 

Satoru scrolls more and lands on the messages from today. You see the picture you sent in the restaurant's bathroom filling the screen. Heat blooms across your cheek at the image, your embarrassment reaching an all time high. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take. 

You feel Satoru’s finger speed up. 

“You’re so naughty. Such a bad girl.” Satoru reads Suguru’s message. 

“Maybe I need to be punished.” You stutter out the response you sent back. 

Satoru’s palm glides over your clit as he finger fucks you, increasing in speed. 

He can tell you’re already close by the way your tight walls clench around him. 

“You need to be punished bunny?” He questions, his voice tinged with unabashed lust. 

“Yes daddy.” 

Your eyes begin to water in shame and pleasure. You tear your gaze from the phone to meet his eyes in the mirror. A shiver runs down your back at the intensity of the eye contact. You can’t help but moan once you feel yourself getting closer. His sky blue eyes bore into you, refusing to look away for even a second. Your legs try to clamp down around his hand, but he's always been much faster. His long legs wrap around yours, keeping you spread apart. 

“Think you can handle it?”

“Yes, yes, oh god yes!” 

You wiggle in front of him, panting loudly. 

“Hm, I don’t know.” He teases. 

“Please daddy please, need you to punish me. Need you to make it hurt.” 

Satoru groans out in response. His fingers refuse to let up, making you reach your high. Satoru bites down on your neck, the pain jolting up your body only increasing the pleasure you were feeling. 

Once your body stops spasming, all you hear is your blood pumping and your heavy breathing. You drag your eyes up to look at him in the mirror. His lids heavy with arousal. 

“What do we say baby?” His lashes flutter, turning his head to place soft kisses on your throat. 

“T-thank you daddy.” 

“Of course, bunny.” He cheerfully says, kissing your cheek. 

Several days pass and things seemed to go back to normal. Satoru assured you he wasn’t mad that you had been texting Suguru. In fact, he even helped you draft up several texts himself. Said he knew what men liked, whatever that meant. Satoru helped take pictures of you for Suguru as well. It was a response you weren’t expecting at all, but one you didn’t complain about. 

~~~

Suguru kicks his feet up against his coffee table and lets out a long sigh. Work had been tough today, memories from boring documents searing through his brain, giving him a headache hours after the fact. 

His eyes flutter closed as he feels his body sink into the couch. Before he could drift off to sleep, his phone buzzes beside him. 

One eyelid opens, looking down at the lit up screen. A message from Satoru, it seems. 

Satoru: Hey man. You busy? 

Suguru picks up his phone, flicking it open. 

Suguru: No, just got home from work. What’s up?

Suguru watches as dots pop up. 

Satoru: Nice. Wanna come over? I have something about our last project I wanted to go over 

Suguru sighs, wanting nothing more than to not think about work for the rest of the night. 

Suguru: Satoru, can’t it wait?

Satoru: Come on Suguru! It’ll be really fast.

Suguru rolls his eyes and stands up, pulling his hair into a loose bun. 

Suguru: Be there in five. 

~~~

You lay against Satoru’s plush bed in nothing but a silk robe. Your eyes flick up to his figure, watching him walk around the room. The two of you didn’t have much in terms of plans for the night. 

“What did you wanna do for dinner?” He questions out loud, leaning against his dresser. 

“I was thinking we could order food in and watch a-“ you start. 

The doorbell ringing snaps you from your thoughts. Satoru’s eyes fly open while your eyebrows raise. 

“Wait here bunny.” Satoru says. 

Your mouth twists into a frown. Crawling up, you sit on your knees at the edge of the bed. You had thought it was just going to be the two of you for the night. Huffing in response, you hoped to god that whoever it was would leave soon. 

“Hey!” Satoru’s cheerful voice comes from the entrance. 

You were getting impatient and angry. It was hard enough to have quality time with Satoru as is, he was always incredibly busy with work and traveling. 

“Hey.” A familiar disgruntled voice says. 

Suguru. 

Your eyes widen in surprise. What was he doing here? 

“Come on in!” Satoru urges, opening the door wider for him to pass. 

You hear feet shuffling and murmur of voices. 

“What are we going over exactly?”

“Don’t worry, it won’t take that long!”

The two men enter the bedroom much to your dismay. It felt like the world stopped when your eyes met Suguru’s. You could see a flood of emotions roll over his face before he took control over it. 

“How are you Suguru?” Satoru asks, his voice coming off a bit more tighter than normal as he breaks the silence. 

You barely catch Satoru’s jaw clenching before it relaxes, any proof that he was anything but his normal cheery self instantly gone. 

Suguru and you watch in anticipation as Satoru sits on the edge of the bed beside you. You thought that Satoru didn’t mind that you two were talking, but there was a hostility settling in the air, something unsettling. 

“Uh, I’m okay. Tired from work.” Suguru responds uncomfortably, his throat bobbing. 

“Come on! Relax a bit.” Satoru urges, gesturing to a chair at the end of the bed. 

Suguru keeps his eyes on his best friend as he slowly makes his way to the seat. You were hit with a rush of his cologne, the scent instantly making you weak. The smell of spice set your soul on fire. 

“I know what you mean. I still had some stuff to do tonight, but it’s hard to get anything done with this one right here.” 

Satoru leans back on his hands, turning his head to admire you. 

“She’s so pretty isn’t she, Suguru?” A chill runs down your spine as Satoru brushes back a piece of your hair. 

You couldn’t place your finger on it, but something was off. 

The room is filled with an uncomfortable silence, the space between the three of you so restricting it felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

“Yeah, she is.” Suguru sounds hesitant. 

“Oh come on, say it.” 

“Satoru-“ Suguru starts. 

Suguru shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

“What? It’s not like you had a problem saying it before,  did you? When you were texting her?” 

You can hear the blood pounding in your ears. Satoru had told you he didn’t have a problem with it, so why did it feel like you and Suguru were walking a tightrope?

“What?” 

Suguru’s brows furrow as he stares at his best friend. 

“Don’t play dumb Suguru, it doesn’t suit you.” Satoru sighs out. 

You bite your lip and stare at the two men. The air in the room felt hostile, and all you wanted was a way out. You had no idea what Satoru was doing, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know. 

“So?” Satoru asks, expectedly. 

Suguru clears his throat and drags his eyes back up to your trembling figure. “She is pretty.” 

A dry laugh cracks from Satoru’s throat. 

“There it is.” He leans in close to you, his breath fanning over your neck. “She really is though, isn’t she?” 

His lips press against your cold and clammy throat, the heat from his mouth searing into you, burning your skin. 

You drag your eyes back up to look at Suguru, it didn’t look like he was fairing any better than you. You could see the nerves wracking his body, he wasn’t aware that Satoru had figured you two out. A mistake on your part, but you didn’t see the need to clue him in as Satoru was fine with it. 

Well, you thought he was at least. 

He had never been particularly possessive over you, never shedding an ounce of jealousy. 

But there was nothing pure in the way he was kissing your throat. It was clearly a stunt, a show of dominance. 

“Satoru, what are you doing?” Suguru questions. 

Their entire lives, he was the only one able to call Satoru out. The only one able to make sense of him. But right now he had no idea what was going through his best friend's head. 

Satoru latches his teeth into you, causing a groan to rip from your throat. Anticipation quickly spreads through your body. 

“What? I thought you liked seeing her like this?” Satoru crawls behind you on the bed, pushing your hair out of the way so he can continue his attack on your skin. 

Marks had already began to litter your throat, each one of them signaling who you belonged to. 

You feel his hands shift as they drag up your body, his long fingers caressing your sides, making your skin break out into goosebumps. 

As much as you hated the uncomfortable air that settled in the room, you couldn’t deny the way your underwear was quickly getting soaked. The second Satoru pressed into your skin you could feel yourself bursting at the seams, needing more. 

Satoru’s hands grasp at your breasts, massaging them through the flimsy fabric of your robe. You couldn’t help but sigh at the way he grazed against your nipples. 

You bite your lip and maintain eye contact with Suguru, watching as his tongue pokes out, slowly sliding over his bottom lip. 

Satoru’s hands nudge your hips, urging you to stop sitting on your knees. You take them out from under your body, throwing them over the edge of the bed. Satoru grabs each leg and spreads them apart. 

“Nice and wide for Suguru baby, okay? We don’t want him missing any of this.” 

You whimper and keep your legs open, your robe doing little to cover your decency. Satoru’s hand dips down between your legs, fingers brushing past your core. 

“Satoru, you don’t have to do this.” You could hear the pleading tone underlying Suguru’s voice. 

Although you could hear the pain in his voice, you also couldn’t help but notice the growing bulge in his pants. 

If he really didn’t wanna be here for this, surely he would leave, right? You told yourself. 

Maybe he was just as stubborn as Satoru. 

“Aw, why not? I thought we were having fun.” Satoru’s fingers pull your robe off, before dipping back down to circle your clit. 

Your moans fill the room as soon as it happens. Suguru’s body tightens up in response, immediately reacting to you. 

“Just sit and watch, Suguru.” Satoru orders his friend as one of his fingers dips into you. 

“You can keep your hands to yourself for once, can’t you?” He continues, his voice laced with venom. 

Satoru’s finger pumps into you at an agonizingly slow pace. Your hips start grinding down, body aching to feel the heel of his palm against you. 

His other hand rests against your breast, tugging at your nipple. Your face was burning in embarrassment, even though both men have seen you in this position before. There was something different about it this time, the underlying sinister tones too loud to ignore. 

Satoru slips a second finger alongside his other, stretching you out even more. You whimper and clench your fists on either side of you. 

Suguru inhales sharply, his fingers itching to touch you. You desperately wanted him to. You yearned to feel his hands canvassing your body with Satoru. 

“You know, the thing is I wouldn’t have cared. If you had just asked for her number from me I would’ve happily given it to you.” Satoru talks effortlessly as his fingers plunge into you. 

“But you didn’t do that, now did you?” His voice drops. 

“I’m sorry Satoru-“  Suguru even sounds genuine as he says it. 

“No, you didn’t do that. You just had to go behind my back and text each other.” Satoru cuts him off. 

Satoru’s heel grinds against your clit as he fucks you, building your high far quicker than ever before. 

“Satoru, what game are you playing?” Suguru tries to keep his voice steady. 

Satoru hooks his head against your shoulder to get a good view at the mess you were making. He watches as the liquid lust soaks his fingers, seeing how it glistens in the low light. 

“I’m not playing a game. I’m just showing you what happens when you play with my toys without asking.” 

You whine, hands flying up to grab at Satoru’s arms. Your nails dig into his skin, unable to contain yourself. 

“Daddy I-“ Your hips buck up against his hand. 

Close, you were so close. 

“I know princess. Daddy’s got you.” Satoru says, flicking his eyes up to stare at Suguru as he speaks. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel the shocks flood through your body. Your pussy clenches around Satoru’s fingers, almost making it impossible for him to fuck you through it. 

He hums in content, pulling his fingers from you once you stop shaking. His eyes glued to his fingers watching your cum drip from them. Dirty, dirty girl. Satoru tilts his head and reaches his hand forward, presenting it to your mouth. Strings of cum drape two long, pale fingers. They were shoved down your throat without much protest, the taste of your cum filling your mouth. Your body reacted and sucked his fingers in deeper. 

You could see the obvious discomfort on Suguru’s face. But you rationalized to yourself that he could leave anytime he wanted, but he was stuck to the chair, eyes fixated on the way you sucked his best friend's fingers. 

Satoru pulls his hand away from you, admiring the way your spit slips from it and falls against your chin. 

He hums before wiping his fingers against your cheek, saliva coating your skin. He drags his hand to your jaw, pinching your cheeks to pout your lips at Suguru. 

“She is really pretty isn’t she?” Satoru asks, moreso talking to himself. 

He pulls back from you and tilts your head up with one finger while using his other hand to unbutton his shirt. His lips press down against yours, making you feel dizzy. Your head was swimming with desire and need, need for him. 

Satoru’s tongue slides against your bottom lip, entering your mouth and getting tangled with yours. He pulls back and looks deep into your hazy glossed over eyes. 

He loved to see you so cock drunk for him before things had even begun. 

His hands grab around your waist and lift you up, pulling you back onto the bed until you were on your hands and knees, facing you towards Suguru. 

“Satoru I get it, you don’t have to do this.” Suguru shifts his eyes between you and the man behind you. 

“No, I don’t think you do.” Satoru says, spreading your ass and dropping a glob of spit down onto you.

He unbuttons his pants and pulls them down until his cock springs free, already hard as a rock. 

Satoru holds his cock in one hand and slides it against your wet slit. You shiver in response, hands grasping at the sheets below. 

Your eyes settle on Suguru. You watch at the way his jaw clenches tight, his thighs shifting in the seat. 

At an achingly slow pace, Satoru slides inside of you. Your mouth drops open at the intrusion, the feeling enticing every single time it happened.

“Satoru!” You moan out. 

“That's not my name bunny, is it?” 

And then he was in you completely. Your eyes roll back as you swear you can feel him invading each of your senses. You could feel him from the tips of your fingers down to your toes. The rational part of your brain thought this might not be a good idea, clearly this was different compared to the two times before. But you weren’t thinking with the rational part of your brain. 

“Come on, say my name won’t you?” His voice sounds sickly sweet. 

He almost didn’t sound like your Satoru. But for some reason, it didn’t bother you. His long fingers roam through your hair, yanking it back to expose your full face and throat to Suguru. 

“Daddy,” you speak with a trembling voice, eyes glazed over. 

“Can’t hear you baby.” 

Each thrust of his cock feels punishing. You were sure he was bruising your insides, yet it had never felt so good before. 

“Daddy!” 

“Now that’s more like it.” A breathless chuckle leaves Satoru as his cock makes way in your pussy. He uses a hand to glide over your ass, making your hair stand on edge. 

“Oh right, you said you wanted to be punished, isn’t that right baby?” Satoru goes on. 

You try to think of a response, your gaze locked on Suguru’s. You’re at a loss for words. 

A slap rings out, Satoru’s handprint marking your ass. You moan loudly, digging your fingers in the sheets. 

Satoru’s brows furrow as he feels you clench around him, evidence of how good it made you feel. 

He slaps your other cheek much more hard, tears instantly springing to your eyes. 

Satoru’s pace picks up and your body shudders in response. You watch as Suguru’s eyes haze over, a mixture of pain and need gracing his features. His cock looks stiff beneath his work pants, even though you knew it was wrong all you wanted was to reach forward and get a taste of him too. 

One of Satoru’s hands remains stationed at your hip, holding you still as he fucks you. The other reaches around and slides against your swollen clit. His long fingers go to work pressing against you. 

Your moans quickly fill the room. You had no idea what the implications would be after tonight, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

“Go on baby, tell Suguru how it feels.” 

You can hardly speak, choking on air. 

“F-feels so good Suguru. Fuck fuck, feels s-so good!” 

Suguru’s jaw clenches, eyes narrowing on you. His hands flex against the chair arms, you could practically see his internal debate about whether or not he should launch himself forward to whisk you away. 

“Suguru!” You moan, feeling your insides burn. 

“Oh now that won’t do bunny. Can’t have you saying another man’s name like that, can I?” Satoru pouts. 

His hips slow down, each drag feeling painfully slow. 

“No p-please more! I’m sorry, I’m sorry daddy!” You bite your lip so hard you taste blood. 

“I know, who do you belong to?” 

“You daddy, just you.” Your body shakes for more. 

You can’t see the grin that stretches across Satoru’s face. His eyes trail up to Suguru, then back down to your trembling form. He picks back up and slams his hips into yours. The jolt causes you to moan, desperately trying to hold on. 

“Daddy!” 

“That’s it, let him know who you belong to.” 

The desperate need for his cum fills your senses. You felt like you were going to burst at the seams. All you could feel was him.

Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. 

“Yours, I’m yours.” Sobs rack your body. 

Satoru’s cock fucked into you harshly, not stopping once. You try to gasp for air but nothing comes to you. Your whimpers drown out the other noises filling the room. 

His fingers speed up against your clit. He could feel you tighten around him. A blind man could see you were close. Your entire body shakes as he slams into you again, making you clench around him as you cum. 

Suguru’s mouth drops open, his eyes entranced by you. His mind raced. You were so fucking beautiful, even when you were a mess. Especially when you were a mess.  

You couldn’t keep yourself up anymore, especially not by the way Satoru slammed into you. Your hands drop from underneath you, forcing your face into the bed. Suguru watches as his best friend fucks you, his breathing becoming rapid. 

It should be him, right? He thought. 

Jealousy was an ugly monster, and he had never felt so possessed by it before now. 

Your eyes roll back with drool spilling from your lips. You were cock drunk, high on the feeling of Satoru splitting you in two. 

If Suguru’s work pants weren’t black, you would be able to see a dark spot forming, his cock leaky with desire.

Satoru concentrates on the way your pussy clings to him. He was getting close, but a sick part of him wanted to wait it out. Suguru was his best friend, but he enjoyed putting him in his place. You belong to him. Suguru should only be so lucky to have you at all. 

“Fuck…” Suguru lets out, his hips lifting up slightly to gain some semblance of comfort. 

You moan out and reach an arm forward towards Suguru. You’re barely able to scrap his knee when you feel Satoru fill you up with his cum. 

Satoru tries to steady his breathing as he slips out of you. 

The two men share a look. Satoru conveyed that you were his. And Suguru showed that he didn’t care. 

Satoru gets up, pulling his pants back over himself while he walks toward Suguru, his gaze looking down. 

“Do you understand?” Silence fills the room. 

Satoru chuckles when Suguru doesn’t respond, before turning around. 

“Let me show you the way out.” 

Suguru takes one more glance at your trembling figure before getting up. He walks after Satoru and follows him to the front door. 

“That was fun!” Satoru’s cheerful voice is back. 

If Suguru didn’t know any better he would think Satoru was back to normal. But he did know better. He knew the threatening tone that came from Satoru. 

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” Satoru gives a smile before shutting the door. 

Suguru stares at the door, trying to will away his hard on. 

Satoru inhales before turning on his heels and walking back to his bedroom, seeing you still in the same position. 

“Bunny.” 

You sniffle and try to get up, but your limbs feel too weak. 

“Let me clean you up.” Satoru’s voice immediately turns soft. 

He grabs a towel and sits behind you to clean up his cum. He could see your body still trembling from the aftershocks of everything. His hands slide around you before pulling you back against his chest to lay down. 

Satoru realized he wasn’t being fair to you. You were thrust in the middle of their competition and they took it out on you. He really didn’t intend for you to get stuck in the crossfire of the two. You just made him so insane. Satoru wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to him, but it did. 

“Daddy, I’m sorry.” You cry, holding onto him tightly. 

Satoru’s heart breaks at the desperation in your voice. You truly believed he was mad at you. 

“Hey, look at me.” He tilts your face up. 

“It’s okay. I'm sorry if that was too much on you. I’m not mad, I swear it.” 

“Okay,” you nod, a small smile lighting up your face.

He wasn’t even really mad at Suguru. Was he? It pissed him off, sure, but things would go back to normal between the two of them. 

Probably.

You pull him closer and try to take an ounce of his warmth. It was hard to speak, and your body was so sore. The heat in you dies down and Satoru’s hands coax you to sleep before you know it. 

~~~

It was the next day, and you were nervous. Maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. Yesterday felt really good, but you couldn’t get the image of Suguru’s frown out of your head. You could tell he somewhat enjoyed it, but there were definitely feelings of hurt bubbling under the surface. The burn of yesterday still stung, and you wanted to try to remedy it. 

You pull out your phone and scroll to Suguru’s contact. Neither of you had talked since what happened. Guilt seeped through your bones and you needed to apologize. 

You sit patiently listening to the ringing on your phone. Satoru was out for the day, so now would be the perfect time. 

“Hello?” A voice like velvet answers your call. 

“Suguru,” you say, your rehearsed lines quickly drifting from your memory. 

“I’m really, really sorry.” You will yourself to say. 

“It’s okay.” 

“He said he didn’t mind when he found out. I didn’t think he would react like that. I don’t think he’s really mad though, at least not anymore.” 

What sounds dangerously close to a chuckle carries over to you. 

“What? You think it scared me? A little competition never hurt anybody, princess. The fun is only getting started.”

A threat, and a promise.