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armpirate · 3 days ago
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RED || Jungkook | Ch. 1
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MASTERLIST Previous ||  Next
Pairings: Demon!Jungkook x fem!reader  
Genre: smut, angst, fluff, fantasy, past life
Warnings: Explicit language, mention of death and suicide, demonology, violence, rough sex
Summary: Y/n thought her life couldn't get worse after losing her parents in a tragic accident. Years after, she's aware of everyone moving forward, while she's in the same place, isolated and alone. She struggles to find meaning in a world that seems indifferent to her grief. Desperate for comfort, to feel the deep connection she had been missing, she starts the manifestation, expecting an inoffensive entity to walk with her that rough path. What she doesn't know is that she awoke the mysterious entity tied to an old necklace around her neck.
Jungkook, a mysterious and seductive figure, appears in her life, offering the company she craves. But as his presence grows stronger, so does the unsettling sense that there's more to him -and the necklace- than meets the eye, unfolding all the reasons that took him to that place.
Now, as the past bleeds into the present, Y/n must fight with her growing feelings for the demon who seems familiar yet dangerous. Jungkook is determined to reclaim his power, but in doing so, he may doom Y/n once again. Bound by fate, the two are locked in a dangerous mix of love, redemption, and the looming threat of destruction. 
Will they break the curse that has haunted them both, or will history repeat itself with devastating consequences?
Chapter duration: 11 minutes
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When she first came across a video about manifestation through subliminal audios, she was skeptical. More like skeptical, she quite laughed at the idea of people actually believing someone could get something out of that. It was similar to making a wish to a shooting star, with the only difference being that watching those videos made her feel like an idiot.
At first, those videos showed up as advertisements of other videos claiming to know how to attract positive energies, or how you could get whatever you wanted with manifestations. Slowly, they evolved into more specific videos on how the Law of Attraction worked and thousands of videos with that same theme. She wasn't a believer, she certainly didn't think a video on social media could help her overcome her struggles, yet she still believed in those small signs. As if the universe was trying to communicate with her somehow. She still chose to go on with life, hopeful she was just getting crazier.
But after she found herself alone at home, bored on a Saturday night after coming back from work, while her only friends were hanging out with their own friends, suddenly those videos didn't sound as stupid and pathetic as she thought.
She went from one video to the other, too bored to continue, but too intrigued in finding out whether they worked or not to give up. One of her hands sneaked under the blanket, finding a warm place when she pressed her thighs around it, so she could escape the cold in her apartment.
Suddenly, while moving from one video to the other, those videos started turning into "magical entities", things that weren't abstract. Those apparently powerful entities were tangible, with personalities and thoughts, with amazing abilities. And, most importantly, that would wish only good things for those who manifested them.
At first, she ignored it. She didn't have the energy to think of herself playing the Bloody Mary game at such a big age, but then she thought of how she had nothing else to lose. She was already bored. If it didn't work out, she'd have found entertainment for the night. If it did work out, life would probably start looking at her differently.
She had nothing to lose, at that point. The only results would be either non-existent or positive.
With a sigh, she moved in her bed, dragging her body to the middle, legs crossed and hands still holding her phone, earphones on and eyes focused on the screen. Nervously, she played with the necklace around her neck, looking for some reassurance there, before she started speaking.
Her eyes closed, one hand holding her phone, the other hand still playing nervously with the pendant of her necklace.
—By the thread of time, I call to you —she repeated softly, barely audible in a whisper. Her tone was shy, as if someone was hearing her despite living alone—. In silence, I call. In darkness, I find you —one of her eyes opened, trying to check whether something was changing in her surroundings—. From the shadows of what was, come forth into the light of now? Bound by love, freed by pain. Answer me —another sigh, another movement of her head showing off her disappointment—. If someone is there, come to me, please, fill this void.
When saying those last words, her voice cracked, and her eyes watered at the possibility of calling out for her parents. She went quickly from trying to call out that entity to demand her parents to be there with her, right when she needed them.
She dropped her phone, holding onto the necklace that one belonged to her mother, while looking around in the darkness.
—I'll do whatever it takes —her voice was shaky while pronouncing those words—, I don't care about the price, I don't care about the consequences. Please, I need you.
For a brief moment during that chant, she felt something in the air changing. Like the temperature dropping or the hint of an indecipherable whisper falling on her ear... yet she realized it was all coming from her own desperation and not reality.
There was no movement in her apartment, no hints that whatever she did worked. Her tongue moved through her lips, stopping at the corner with an annoyed expression, dropping her head to the front while her hands fell over her lap.
It was the dumbest and most pathetic thing she had ever done in her twenty four years alive. And which made it worse was how hopeful she felt on it working out.
The reverse of her hand moved with anger over her cheekbones, wiping out the tears that kept rolling down. Minutes later, she looked like she hadn't been crying, she looked like she hadn't been hoping for a miracle, plugging her phone and turning the lamp off, so she could lie on the bed on her back again, wrapped on the thick blankets.
Her fingers fidgeted on her belly under the covers, eyes stuck on the ceiling above her, while she kept thinking she didn't do things right. She felt uneasy, unable to get some peaceful sleep before she insisted again.
—Psst —she called out—. Don't take too long to give signs. If you're there, show up with the same desperation I called on you.
She tried, even if it was something that gave her no results.
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Y/n found herself standing in the middle of an empty street, her heart pounding in her chest. The world around her seemed old -ancient, even-, but not the European type of old. The characteristics of that street had Asian features, pretty remarkable.
The street was eerily quiet, deserted, and bathed in a redish fog that clung to everything. The uneven stone path beneath her feet was cold, and the sound of her own footsteps echoed unnaturally, amplifying the growing tension inside her. She felt the weight of something unseen pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.
The wind was still, and yet there was a gnawing feeling that something was watching her, just out of sight. Each shadow seemed to stretch and bend as if alive, threatening to swallow her whole. Every step she took forward only heightened her anxiety, the oppressive silence ringing in her ears.
The cold air had her hugging herself almost instantly, making her even more confused at the fact that she was still wearing the tank top and shorts she used as her pajamas.
Suddenly, something came at her like a wave, making it difficult to breathe, going from holding her own arms to grabbing her throat as if that gesture would make the air come through more easily.
Her breath came shallow, and in a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating emptiness of the street, she darted into one of the old wooden houses nearby. The door creaked as it swung shut behind her, enclosing her in complete darkness. Inside, it was still, but different -no longer the silent, oppressive void outside. Inside, there was a strange, almost magnetic pull that tugged her forward, guiding her down a dimly lit corridor.
The door clicking behind her echoed the room, making her aware of how big the place was despite not being able to see anything at all. Scared of the dark, she tried to open the door again, but it kept resisting her strength.
As if that action was the only thing she needed to get it all started, some claps stole her attention, freezing her move. With every lamp that was being lit in the corridor, a new clap made all the hairs in her body raise, getting pointier with each loud sound.
It kept getting narrower the further it was from her, and the weak light coming from the curved lamps barely gave her any chance to see properly. Her mind kept telling her to try to open the main door and escape, but her body didn't respond to her own begs. Her feet started moving, slowly but steadily towards the new door away from her, as if there was something else controlling her moves better than she did.
Her steps felt heavy, almost as if her body was being dragged by an external force to the dark red door at the end of the corridor. It was hypnotic, attracting, almost like seeing a distant star in a black sky.
The light grew stronger as she moved, illuminating a single room. Just like the street, with dark tones of red that ended up being pleasing to her sight.
She stepped inside, her heart hammering louder now, the air thick with something she couldn't name. As soon as she crossed the door, the lights went off again. Her eyes were squinted as she tried to see something through the darkness when she found herself trapped again in a different space. But, that time, she didn't attempt to get out, she didn't turn, not a single hair in her body moved. There was a growing sensation that there was something inside she wanted to find.
A sonorous breeze collided with her ears and her body instantly reacted to the sensation. Her skin was burning, her core throbbed with eagerness. There was an urging suffocating need that started to build up and that she couldn't make disappear when pressing her thighs together -it only grew bigger with every slight rub.
Somewhere among the silence, she heard a male chuckle, deep and dark, but so attracting that it almost caused her to moan out loud. Her brain overthought when that laugh got in her system, and her stomach felt funny instantly.
The room lit up, but not completely. For minutes, there was a flicker of light coming and going in different corners of the room, quickly moving in front of her. With every new move, she discovered a new detail of the room that was hidden to her with that darkness, finally allowing her to see what was being kept from her eyesight.
A few centimeters ahead of her, there was a black leather headboard that shined under the light, completely disappearing as the focus kept moving. It lowered down, allowing her to see the burgundy sheets falling over the edge of the bed, heading to its corner and moving back to the center, where she was able to see a pair of athletic thighs, covered with some black slacks, manspreading with a hand falling lazily in the center. She tried to pay attention to the tattoos on the reverse and his fingers, but the light moved before she was able to. It w bent back to the opposite side of the headboard, moving to the right steadily. His eyes were black and fierce, as if he knew he'd be able to do whatever he wanted to her. There wasn't a glimpse of good intentions on the looks he was giving her.
The way he already had his eyes on her, and how he even moved them lower over her body, made Y/n aware that, unlike her, he was indeed able to see her across the darkness. Y/n thought she'd be able to reach the climax merely with the way he was looking at her.
To him, she was his prey, cornered and trapped, and he was the beast ready to jump at her.
The corners of his doe eyes wrinkled for a second, as if he finally thought what he was going to do to her.
Y/n's pulse quickened as she stood frozen, unsure if she should move toward him or run. Each flicker of light illuminated just enough to make her breath catch in her throat, but not enough to see him fully. His figure seemed almost unreal, like a phantom on the edge of her consciousness, tethered to the shadows. Then, just as suddenly as the dream had begun, the light vanished, plunging her back into darkness. The only light in the room disappeared, leaving her lost, momentarily blind.
She was hopeful the light would shine again and would fall on him, that was why her eyes didn't move a centimeter from where she last saw his eyes. But when the light came back, starting to move over the spot where he was sitting, there was no one else anymore. The sheets looked messy, and they had the subtle shape of his lower body, confirming her he was indeed there in front of her and it wasn't made up.
It felt disappointing for her. Because it was all getting started, and the moment she was calming herself down to speak, encouraging herself to make a sound, he vanished without saying a word.
Her body squirmed involuntarily when a warm touch over the side of her tank top, feeling a palm almost cover her ribs.
His breathing was calm, slow, relaxing and warm when falling in her ear, feeling like an enchant that took over her body easily. Her neck fell to the side, and her eyes closed, handing him all the power he wanted to have over her.
—Were you looking for me? —never a voice had sounded so sensual and melodic, yet so deep and masculine at the same time.
The way his warm breathing coated her right ear, while his voice hypnotized her out of her control made her nipples harden under the thin white fabric.
She hadn't seen his face completely, she didn't know his intentions, and she for sure was in a dangerous place, but she was ready to do whatever he asked her to.
His hand expanded to her belly, with his pinky finger ghosting over the elastic of her shorts. He still didn't stop, but his touch was gentle on her, venturing himself lower while giving her time to mentalize what was going to happen, caressing her body as if he had touched it many times before. His finger played with the edge of her shorts, digging lower and directly moving through her underwear. He didn't ask for permission, he didn't need to. It was as if her consent had been agreed beforehand, long before she showed up there, lost in danger.
Her lip was trapped under her teeth when his mouth moved over her sensitive skin, looking for that same reaction he got from her.
—Then you already found me.
His body pressed against her back, while his hand dud lower, digging his fingers to reach her clit.
—Who are you?
But he didn't answer, he twirled his digits around her bundle of nerves, leaving her with a loud gasp escaping her mouth, and that transferred to reality.
She woke up instantly, in the middle of a heavy breath that forced her to sit on the bed. Her heart was pounding against her chest, aiming to break her rib cage while her whole body was craving a touch that wasn't even real, a touch in her dream so vivid that she was sure she'd feel for days.
Y/n looked around in her studio, confused at being there for a few seconds, trying to understand that everything that happened was just a dream. Despite being home, she still had the feeling of being somewhere else just seconds ago. As if she had been able to teleport without knowing it.
That dream felt way too vivid and real to only be part of her imagination.
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darknight3904 · 10 hours ago
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All Too Well
Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
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Summary: A chat with a stranger has your world turning on its axis as you try to navigate your relationship with Joel.
Warnings: Violence, mentions of SA (not depicted in detail) Language, death.
Word Count: 3.6k
Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist
Useless. It was a certain funny feeling that had always lurked at the back of your mind. 
Everything that’d ever happened to you, be it falling off your bike and scraping your knees or screwing up your relationship with Joel, you were utterly useless. 
Even now as you stared at the clinic doors you felt it. Useless. Worthless. Empty. 
“Y’okay?” 
“Fine.” 
Joel led the way into the clinic. Down a hall, a right, then a left, and then the wood of an old door was staring back at you. 
“Dr. Hill said she was real hostile to Tommy last night.” Joel says softly, “I’ll be right outside if something goes wrong.” 
You nod and take a deep breath. Pushing the door open to reveal the woman that had become the talk of the town. 
The woman was still tied to the small cot the clinic room held. Both skinny arms were tied to one of the bedposts with a piece of rope. 
“Get out.” She hisses, refusing to look at you 
Your eyes sweep over what isn’t being obscured by the blankets that cover her lower half. Long arms poke out of the paper-thin hospital gown Dr. Hill must’ve given her. Discolored bruises litter the skin making it look ugly and thin. Her face, which should’ve had the youthful glow of a woman in her mid-twenties, was gaunt and grey with sickness. 
“Dr. Hill said she was runnin’ a real bad fever, don’t get too close to her in case she’s contagious.”  
Joel’s warning filled your mind as you gestured to a seat about five feet away from the bed, 
“Mind if I sit?” 
The woman, Lana, didn’t speak or make a motion to stop you as you settled into the stiff wooden chair, a small oof leaving your lips when one of your knees popped, you were feeling your 44 years of life right now. 
Lana watches you cautiously. If she were untied, you’re sure she might bolt for the door and sprint out of the clinic. She reminded you of a skittish deer. The look on her face was one you knew well. It was a look you’d worn for weeks so many years ago, one that only one man could pull from a woman. 
Adam. The joining link between the two of you. Even now, a day after his death you shiver like he’s here in the room, staring at you. If you squint hard enough you might see his face painted on the wall, looking at you with that lopsided smirk he often wore when things went his way. 
You wondered how long she’d spent with him. Was it more time than you? Less? How did he treat her? Did he pretend to save her from his comrades? Was The Walrus still breathing somewhere on this Earth? 
The scars that hide under your shirt threaten to burn right through the warm fabric. A sweat breaks out on your skin. Fuck, this was ridiculous. You wanted to leave and go home. 
You take a deep breath, you don’t want to do this. Talking to this stranger, what good could you possibly do? You were always screwing up, why should this be any different? 
You sit in silence, staring at the way the paint is peeling on the wall across from you. Perhaps you could just lie to Dr. Hill and say this lady rejected you too. The older doc wasn’t even here, how would he know if you didn’t try to “connect” with Lana? 
“Who’re you?” 
Lana makes the first move, breaking the silence that you’d been plotting to keep. 
You blink dumbly, you hadn’t expected this. Stuttering out your name you look at her. She has bright blue eyes with tangled blonde hair to match. Long lashes flutter as she stares back, saying her own name quietly. 
“What happened to the man with the mustache?” 
Tommy. He was probably currently across the clinic probably cooing at his new baby and helping Maria wobble her way to the bathroom. 
“He’s not important right now.” You say, deciding not to tell her about something she didn’t need to know. 
She scoffs, shifting beneath her blankets, “So are you the boss then? Sent him in first to get information from me?” 
Your face remains neutral, in what world would you be running Jackson? Surely she didn’t think you were that kind of person. 
“No. I’m not the boss. There isn’t actually one person in charge here at all.” You say 
She shakes her head in disbelief, “There is always someone in charge. Just let me meet him.”  
You explain how Jackson functions to her, its council, how you all share things with each other, trading amongst yourselves. Lana listens intently, you can tell she's impressed by the picture you paint in her head. 
“How do I know you’re not lying?” She asks warily
“You don’t.” You respond, “Just have to trust me.” 
Her gaze drops to her lap and winces when her wrists twist a bit in her binds. 
“Trusting people is dangerous.” 
You nod in agreement, you know that the last time you’d fully trusted a stranger you’d left with more trauma than you could carry. 
“Alright,” you say, “I’ve shared with you, and now I want you to answer some of my questions. Then, if I think you won’t run off, I’ll untie you.” 
She looks at you tentatively, her eyes brimming with apprehension as you ask your first question, 
“What were you doing with Adam?” 
The door to the exam room slams open. Joel jumps as you pace over to where he’d dozed off on a bench in the hallway. Your worried expression makes him panic as he gets to his feet. What had happened? 
“What’s wrong? She hurt you?” Joel asks, his eyes scanning for any injuries 
You shake your head, pulling away from him when he steps closer to you. 
“Where’s Tommy?” 
“With Maria. Said somethin’ about learning to swaddle his kid, why?”
You turn on your heel, legs propelling you towards the direction of Maria’s room. Joel scampers after you, his knees popping when he matches your frantic pace. 
“Slow down.” He huffs, “Tell me what’s goin’ on.” 
Your warpath continues as you reach Maria’s room, your hand lands on the handle and Joel grabs your upper arm, turning you to face him, 
“What’s happening?” He asks he needs to know before you go in there to his brother.
Your mouth gapes as the door opens anyway, a disgruntled Tommy standing in the doorway. 
“Babies sleeping, you two are loud.” 
Perhaps Joel should care more about waking his new niece, but all he wanted was for you to tell him what the hell was going on. What had you so panicked you looked like you might throw up? 
“Tommy,” Your eyes tear away from Joels, “Tommy, we need to get every person who can shoot up on the walls.” 
“What? What’d the girl say?” Tommy asks, disgruntled as he pulls the door shut, shielding Maria from whatever is coming next.
Joel worriedly looks at you, your chest rises and falls as you take a deep breath, eyes still fixed on his brother. 
“Joel and I, we killed the man who came in with her.” 
Tommy’s head swivels to look at Joel, anger settles on his features as he opens his mouth to discipline his older brother. 
“What? Joel, we talked about this, you can’t just kill-” 
“Would you let me finish?” You huff
Joel shoots his little brother a look, he has no fucking idea what Adam had done, who was Tommy to tell him who he could and couldn’t kill? At this point, Joel would gladly kill Adam a thousand times over and it still wouldn’t be enough revenge for what he’d done to you.
“They’re raiders. Well, he was. Adam, he and Lana were sent out to scope Jackson out. Lana’s from a group they killed months ago. She’s…She was his…” 
Joel watches as your voice dies in your throat. Your hands nervously twist together as you stammer over what you’re trying to say. 
Lana was you. Adam had apparently made it a habit to torture and assault the women he came across. Joel felt anger flash through his system. That fucker hadn’t deserved the bullet you put in his skull. Joel should’ve made it longer, for you, for Lana, for whoever else Adam had hurt over the years. 
“She give you a number? How many are there?” Tommy asks, clearly understanding what you’re trying to say. 
You shake your head, “I dunno, she said there were at least over 15. She um…spent most of her time with Adam and-” 
The door is pulled open again, and this time Maria stands there, wrapped up in a big fluffy bathrobe, her hair is messily pulled back, eyes are lined with dark bags from her new child. 
“We need more patrol shifts. Wall security needs to be doubled.” She says, “Tommy, I want you to get the council together for me,” She glances at Joel her eyes scanning his form, “Have Joel lead a group with our best shooters out as soon as possible. Make sure they're not coming for us right now.” 
Joel knows he’s always been on thin ice with his sister-in-law. She’s never quite clicked with him yet here she was putting Jackson’s safety in his hands. 
He gives her a firm nod, “I’ll get goin’ now.” 
Tommy grabs Joel by the arm, his face is serious, with not a smile in sight. 
“Be careful.” 
He gives his little brother a pat on the back, Joel would be fine. Twenty-one years in the apocalypse, he could handle a few raiders. 
There's a warm breeze as he leaves the clinic. Who were Jackson’s best shooters? Tommy was one but he’d be rallying the council and up on the wall all night. That left him, Brett, that Louis fellow wasn’t half bed either. It’d be better to have at least four though, the more manpower the better. 
“Joel!” 
He turns around to see you, racing out of the clinic to catch up to him. What the hell were you doing now? 
“Let me come.” You demand when you reach him 
“What?” He looks down at you, “No.” 
Your brow furrows in disappointment and Joel sighs deeply. 
“Sweetheart, yesterday, we…”His eyes scan your face, you’re not mentally ready for this he can tell, “Yesterday you handled a big piece of your past. I just don’t think you’re cut out for this.” 
Joel isn’t expecting the slap that comes. His face stings from your palm meeting the skin of his cheek.
“Fuck you.” You scoff, “I’m going.” 
Joel watches as you stomp off towards god knows where. His legs pump after you as you huff when he falls into step with you, grabbing you and pulling you off into a narrow alleyway. 
“Didn’t mean it like that, sweetheart. I just meant that you…maybe you should just stay back, and take some time to think about…” 
He isn’t good at this, giving people advice. He’s better at giving orders and letting them carry them out. 
“Think about what, Joel? About what Adam did to me?” 
You take a step towards him, crowding his personal space. 
“I’ve thought about that for years. Every night I’m terrified he’ll show up and rip me out from under the blankets and get on top of me.” 
Joel feels his heart drop. You’d been living in fear of Adam for so long and here you were trying to go right back out there, closer to the men he worked with. 
“Exactly why I want you to sit this out. It’s going to be dangerous.” He says 
You give Joel a hard shove to the shoulders, and he stumbles back. He couldn’t let you go out there, what if you got hurt or they got overwhelmed and you were captured? What the fuck were you thinking, asking him to just let you out of the safety of Jackson. 
“I need this Joel. Why can’t you see that?” 
Anger boils in his chest. You needed this? What you needed to get shot? Taken by those men again? Turned into a slave for their sick pleasures? 
No. Joel couldn’t let that happen. He hadn’t been there to stop it the first time but he could now. He was going to do what he should’ve twenty years ago, and keep you safe. 
“You need to stay put. Here. Behind the walls where I know you’re safe.” 
“I need this.” You beg, tears in your eyes, your voice a whisper, “Joel please…let me feel useful again. I want to stop them. To stop them from taking another me or another Lana.” 
Joel lets out a deep sigh. He understood where you were coming from but he couldn’t let you come. Beyond the walls was unpredictable, he knew that better than you did. You’d spent years here in Jackson and he’d just walked across the damn country with a teenager. 
Your face is set in a hard stare as you look up at him. He can’t tell what you’re thinking as your mouth opens again, 
“I’ll leave without your blessing, Joel. This is me telling you, I’m going.” 
Joel shakes his head, no you just didn’t get it. 
“I’m going. It’s just a matter of if I’m going with you and your group, or alone.” 
Joel reaches out, his hand shakes a bit as he cups your face. A gentle gesture he remembers you used to relish in so many years ago. In another universe he’s sitting on his couch back in Texas, holding you as you giggle and watch a stupid rom-com with him. Instead, he’s standing here, an old man with hands dipped in the blood of so many as he tries to keep you safe and out of the reach of the monsters of this world. What a horrible hand the world has dealt him. 
Joel thumbs away a tear that hovers on your cheek. You whisper another please to him and his heart squeezes. 
Fine, he’ll let you go. Besides he couldn’t keep you safe if you ran off on your own to hunt these men. At least this way you’d have him at your side. 
“You listen to me out there.” He orders, “You understand? No running off on a revenge path.” 
You nod and sniffle a bit, turning your face to nuzzle closer to his touch. 
Joel leans in, his lips meet the warm skin of your forehead. A kiss brushes the skin of your forehead as he pulls you into what is probably a bone-crushing hug from your point of view. Your voice trickles into his ears again, warm as the spring breeze that floats through the town, 
“Thank you, Joel.” 
Three hours later, you ride out of Jackson. Joel leads you and two other men, Brett and Louis out along the furthest patrol route Jackson’s people watch. You grip Pepper’s reigns tight enough that your knuckles go white. 
Brett and Louis are fine. They’re both decent shots from what you can remember. It helps that they’re both young and filled with muscle. You found yourself wishing you had more mass, bigger biceps, and stronger legs. If you were tackled how long would you be able to survive with a man twice your size above you? Surely if any of these men you were after recognized you, you’d be killed. Not that it bothered you. Death was a much sweeter release than being taken by any of them again. 
Lana had said that there were at least over 15 men in Adam’s group. She said they often split up to do recon and patrol shifts, and that some of them had been close to the dam when she and Adam were “taken” in by Jackson’s patrol unit. 
You wondered who was leading them now. Lana said she spent most of her time with Adam and some other man named Paul. The fact this group had grown so much over the years made you shudder, all you knew was that Adam wasn’t at the head of it. Lana said he often mentioned a boss to her, a man she had never gotten the chance to meet. 
Lucky her.
The sun began to set as Joel suggested that they hole up in an old cabin up ahead. The other two men agreed and before you knew it you were sitting in between Joel and Louis eating a sandwich Ellie had made for you. 
Brett and Louis take the first shift of watch and leave you and Joel in the cabin. A single camping lantern sits on the ground, just barely illuminating the room. 
“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep down here.” Joel gestures to the old couch that had been pushed off to the side of the room after Brett deemed it too moth-ridden to sit on without it falling in on itself. 
You shake your head, he couldn’t stay there. He’d done so much for you, even if his rejection the other day had pissed you off, he deserved a bed. 
“We can share. I don’t mind.” 
Joel, as it turns out, snores. 
Loudly. 
You huff and turn onto your side. You wish you had a pillow to stuff over your head so the sound could be muffled a bit. God, he sounded like a fucking lawnmower. You should’ve just let him have the couch. 
You groan and flop onto your back. It’d been years since you shared a bed with him, if only 35-year-old Joel was here, he wouldn’t snore like this. Sure an occasional snort, and maybe a fart or two but at least he was quiet most of the night. 
“What’s wrong?” Joel mumbles from your right 
“Nothing. Go to bed.” You huff 
A beat of silence, had he gone back to sleep? 
“You’re upset,” Joel says, turning on his side to face you. 
The pale moonlight illuminates him as you turn to look at him in the darkness. You face him, scooching a bit closer so your noses are only inches apart. 
“You snore.” You say 
Joel’s brow knits together in confusion, “No I don’t.” 
“You do. You sound like that lawn mower you used to keep in your garage.” 
“You mean the broken one that smoked when it was turned on?” 
“Yeah.” You huff, “You’re that loud, Joel.” 
He grumbles a sorry and you smile softly. He looks pretty like this, his face illuminated by the moon, and his tired eyes staring into yours. Grey hairs litter his beard as you try to imagine what it might feel like pressed against your face. 
“I feel like Ellie would’ve told me I snored.” Joel thinks out loud 
“She’s clearly trying to spare your feelings.” You grumble, your eyes beginning to droop. 
“She’s a teenager. She wouldn’t spare your feelings even if you were dying.” Joel huffs 
You giggle, how right he is. Ellie was the most judgemental little girl you knew. Even that Dina girl who had once told you your shirt was ugly wasn’t as bad as Ellie.  
Joel throws off an impressive amount of heat as you lie there, fighting your drowsiness. You scoot a bit closer to him, craving the warmth he provides. 
“I liked what happened earlier.” You softly admit when your nose brushes his 
“Hmm?” Joel’s eyes lazily pull back open to look at you.
“In the alley. You give great hugs.” You smile, “They’re real bear hugs.” 
“It’s probably all the extra fat I’ve been lugging around. Y’gotta stop sending me cookies.” Joel sighs, his eyes fluttering shut again. 
You scoff, “Please. You’re anything but fat.” 
He rolls onto his back and Joel’s hand comes up and pats his belly from on top of his shirt. 
“This says otherwise, sweetheart.” 
He can’t see it, but you roll your eyes. 
“Went up a size or two on my belt since gettin’ into Jackson as well.”  
You push yourself up onto your elbows and poke your finger into his cheek. His eyes open again and jealousy twinges in your chest. Why was he blessed with such nice eyelashes. Those should be yours, he had no use for them. 
“There’ll be no body shaming on my watch, Mr. Miller.” 
“You’re makin’ me feel a thousand years old, calling me that.” He mumbles 
“Yeah, yeah.” You brush him off, “Just between you and me, dad bods have always been better than six packs.” 
Joel’s gaze flits over to you and he looks at you a bit incredulously. He must think you’re full of shit. 
“I’m serious.” 
You smile and flop back down, breaking the invisible boundary between the two of you but resting your chin on his chest. Part of your body rests on top of his now and he makes no motion to push you away. It’s a familiar position, one you had enjoyed so many years ago. Perhaps yesterday had just been a fluke. 
Joel huffs a small breath as if he’s saying he doesn’t believe you. 
“I’m going to bed.” You mumble into the soft fabric of his dark blue shirt. 
Joel is quiet, still as a statue under you as your eyes flutter shut. Then, his deep voice fills the room again, 
“I’m sorry. For yesterday. Pushing you away like that…You were hurtin’ and I was…well, I was scared.” 
“It’s alright.” You quietly reply, your finger drawing a circle on his t-shirt-clad chest. 
You don’t know what else to say to him. You knew yesterday had been the wrong move. Trying to get him to sleep with you after everything with Adam. You knew that wasn’t what you wanted. You had just been craving love and acceptance, you wanted to be wanted by someone. 
You wanted Joel to want you. 
Next Part
Yummy fluff. Hehe.
I need to figure out wtf I should name Tommy and Maria's kid. I wonder what HBO is gonna name them.
I can't believe Season Two is confirmed for April.
Season Two spoilers in the next little note:
Ugh, I'm so scared...Joel, STAY AWAY FROM GOLF PLEASE I BEG!!
God, Pedro needs a helmet. First Oberyn Martell and now Joel... :(
Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.
Tags:
@lunaticgurly  @orcasoul  @snowlycanroc  @freythecrazyfae
@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods
@elli3williams @yawnzzzzzzzz @am-3-thyst  @concrete-jungleeee
@cherrypieyourface  @kanyewestest @bambisweethearts
@sarahhxx03 @loveisacowboyyy @amyispxnk @lou-la-lou
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genoskissors · 2 months ago
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Daily Danganronpa Fun Fact #308
In Salmon Mode, Monophanie, Monodam, and Monokid give Shuichi coins after being talked to, but Monodam has a 3% chance to get a special line. Getting this line gives more casino coins than the other Monokubs do.
Regular Lines
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Special Line
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coco-loco-nut · 8 months ago
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Gen Z
pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
summary: everyone seems to forget that Max is 26
a/n: not my favorite, but it’s something i’ve been working on for a while there will be no part two
requests open masterlist
—————
Breaking up with Kelly was extremely difficult for Max to do. Despite not being in love with her anymore, he was very aware of what would happen to P. Max knew it was better to break up than stay just because of P, so he bit the bullet. The next few months were lonely, having to readjust to being alone in Monaco with just his cats.
That’s when you came barreling into his life. Only two years younger than Max, you were a breath of fresh air for him. He really didn’t expect to fall for you, not so quick anyway.
You knew a bit about Formula One, but it was more to the extent that your home hosted a race, some drivers lived in the city, and your hairdresser’s son was a driver. It didn’t phase you when Max told you about his career and fame, you just thought the Dutchman was cute.
“Men who own cats are major green flags,” you told him over text when you first started dating. That might’ve been what really made Max fall for you. You made him feel young, understandably so. He was 19 when he first met Kelly, and she was 28.
Max taught you about the races, you helped him connect with his inner Gen Z. He taught you Dutch and how to game, you taught him slang and pop culture. The two of you were sitting on the couch a month before the Monaco GP, watching Cars of course, when Max asked you to join him at the race.
“Of course, anything for Lightning McQueen,” you squeeze his hand. You knew from TikTok that Charles, your boyfriend’s work husband, was Lightning McQueen, but how could that not be Max.
“Kachow,” Max says causing you to laugh. He has been watching the TikToks and reels you send him, usually something formula one or cars related.
Max is watching Cars 2 with you when he points out each driver in the movie. You store the knowledge in the back of your mind for when you watch classic races and Max explains things to you. You feel sufficiently ready for Monaco.
“Lewis, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Max introduces you to the Mercedes driver. You look at him, star stuck.
“I loved you in Cars,” you blurt out, causing Lewis to laugh and Max to hide his face in embarrassment. Max isn’t surprised, but he can’t believe this is how your first interaction is going. Lewis is just happy you aren’t with Max because he is a driver.
“Thank you, how old are you?” Lewis asks, ready to feel old.
“24, two years younger than Maxie,” you smile lovingly at your boyfriend.
“I forgot how young you actually are,” Lewis’s unspoken words hang in the air between him and Max. Now that you are dating someone closer to your own age.
Lewis’s statement seemed to be the general consensus when everyone saw you with him. Max looked and acted like he was 26. He was using slang you taught him, he was making pop culture references that he likely wouldn’t have known otherwise. He was getting to experience his twenty’s like he should have been, not as if he was much older than he was.
Lando was the most excited to meet you, not only were you his age, but you brought out Max’s inner child that Lando never could.
“I’m stealing your girlfriend,” Lando tells Max, wanting to claim you as his best friend.
“No,” Max deadpans.
“What if Lando is my bestie?” you ask Max, who can’t say no to you.
“Then I guess that’s okay,” Max kisses your temple.
“OMG, McLaren is doing another hide and seek video, you two should join,” Lando proposes.
“That actually sounds fun,” Max says, looking at you for confirmation.
“I’m in,” you smile, letting Lando lead the way.
The video is a hit, the fans are loving this version of Max. Max is loving this version of him too, for once he doesn’t feel like he has to grow up faster than he should.
“Stay away from her, she’s no good for you. Act like a grown up,” you overhear Jos tell Max as you come back to the garage from hospitality. You have yet to meet Jos, Max made it very clear that he doesn’t want you near his dad. The memes the two of you send back and forth are a good enough reason why, so you hang back.
“What do you mean? I am. I’m 26, why should I act like I’m 40? I am happier with her than I was with Kelly,” Max argues back, you hold yourself back.
“World Champions are serious, mature. Quit acting like Lando Norris and more like an adult,” Jos is seething.
“Ask Max to come back here, say the team needs him or something,” you as an engineer when you notice Jos getting angrier.
“Then why am I leading by a heavy margin already. You just can’t handle that I am putting myself first. What would you even know about being a champion? You never won a race!” Max yells. The engineer quickly cuts in and leads Max to you.
“You gagged him, baby. Are you okay?” Max hugs you, you just rub his back as he regulates his breathing.
“He’s an opp, for real,” Max mutters into your shoulder, causing you to snort with laughter.
“God, I love you,” you can’t contain the laughter. Max joins in, your smile is infectious.
“I did use it right, no?” Max asks between the laughter.
“You did, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you take a deep breath, calming down.
“No cap?”
“Alright, you are using too much. Where is old man Max, this is freaky,” you take a step back, the smile that remains on your face betrays your words.
“You got me into my gen z era, you get the consequences,” Max pulls you back into him as you groan in annoyance.
“I love you too,” he laughs, peppering your face with kisses.
And when a journalist is brave enough to ask about the shift in Max? He’s always eager to talk about you.
“My girlfriend forced me to watch hours of YouTube compilations about formula one memes. We are always sending different memes to each other, she definitely helps me remember to laugh more,” Max gushes.
“I guess we all forget that you aren’t nearly forty,” the journalist nods. Max answers a few more questions before finding you in his drivers room. He lays down on the couch, his head on your lap.
“What’s on your mind?” you run your hand through Max’s hair.
“Have I changed that much?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you.
“I don’t think so, I think you’ve just started being yourself around more people. You are still the same Max that I first met and fell in love with, everyone else is just seeing that Max,” you are confused about the question, but answer him. Max doesn’t reply, he just nuzzles closer to you.
“I like this version of me,” he says into your shirt a few minutes later, you keep playing with his hair.
“I’m glad, but I like every version of you, Max. Even old man Max,” you smile as he sits up.
“Old man? How about I show you how far from true that is,” there is a look in his eye that tells you that you just started something.
“And how will you do that?” you decide to entertain him as he slips his hands under your shirt.
“I don’t think I need to tell you.”
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milla-frenchy · 5 months ago
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Push it
3k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist
Summary: you have a secret “relationship” with Joel, your dad's best friend. You know you can't have more, but you can’t resist the idea to provoke him a little
Warnings: 18+ mdni. Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel late 40s), Joel is a grumpy, possessive, jealous man, reader is a brat. Grinding, dry humping, oral (f/m), pussy slapping, spanking, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, cum eating, squirting, piv, creampie
a/n: so, this is my first dbf!Joel fic. Thank you anon, for your ask ❤️ I hope you'll like it 🙏
@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing baby 💕🫶
dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏
The fic is titled after “Push it” by Garbage 
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Joel was looking at you walking back and forth from the dining room and the kitchen, swaying your hips and teasing him in your short dress. And if your father had been paying any attention to him instead of the game on TV, he would have noticed the way Joel was biting his upper lip or rubbing his hands together. Joel was nervous, and the more nervous he got, the more you teased him.
��Damn brat,” Joel muttered under his breath.
“What?” your father asked.
“Nothing,” he replied and then sighed. “Just said that player really sucks, that’s all.”
“I think he’s hot,” you said cheerfully. “How old is he?”
“A little too old for you to be interested, honey. Over 30 years old.”
You scoffed at your father’s words, and you were pretty sure you heard “jesus” coming out of Joel’s mouth.
You spent the rest of the match pulling down your neckline to expose more of your cleavage or hiking your dress up your thighs. You were careful to do it in a way that your father wouldn’t consider inappropriate if he ever looked at you at some point, but he was captivated by the game. 
Your and Joel’s gazes met often and he gave you a few serious warning stares that you ignored shamelessly. You didn’t even try to hide your satisfaction each time he had to readjust his jeans.
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Once the match was over, you brought their empty beer bottles back to the kitchen, and Joel's firm hand closed around your arm as soon as you were there.
“The hell you doin’?” he grumbled.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” he hissed through his teeth. “Acting like a damn tease, makin’ me hard during the game? In front of your father, goddamn it! Could even see you’re wearing the black lingerie.”
“Ooooh… yeah, your favorite. Too bad you made it very clear the last time you filled me up- we fuck just for fun, right? So let me have fun and act as I please in my father's house. And let go of me.”
But he squeezed harder. “Keep it down,” he growled. “And that ain’t what I said.”
“Whatever. Next time you see me, I may be with my boyfriend.”
“What boyfriend?” His nostrils flared and you loved the sight.
“The one I’m probably gonna meet tonight, when I go out with my friends. The one who’ll appreciate my lingerie. Let go of me,” you repeated, yanking yourself free.
You headed towards the kitchen door, and after glancing behind, you saw him leaning against the counter. Annoyed, dark eyes, eyebrows furrowed, arm muscles stretching his black t-shirt. Irritation suited him well, he was even more handsome than usual. You tried to ignore the racing of your heart as you stepped back into the dining room.
“Can you help me with the internet at home?" he asked you in front of your father. “Connection ain't working.”
“I’m sorry, Joel, I can’t right now. I have to get ready, I’m going out tonight and my friends are picking me up in an hour.”
“Jesus, your manners?!” your father replied as if you had said the most impolite thing in the world. “Go help Joel. Your friends can wait a few minutes.”
You rolled your eyes, careful so that only Joel could see you. He smirked in a way that was so feline that you felt yourself dripping. He walked out towards his house, not checking if you were following him. He knew you were. 
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Once home he sat down on his couch, resting his right arm on the backrest.
“What's the problem with the internet?”
“Ain't got any problems. Come here,” he said, patting his thighs.
“What makes you think I wanna sit on your lap?”
“Pussy's dripping. Can smell it from here.”
You rolled your eyes but you walked over to him and straddled him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He grabbed your hips tightly and positioned you how he exactly wanted you, his stiff shaft in his jeans against your folds covered only by your black panties. Your eyes sparkled when you felt his manhood. His were fixed on yours. Full of confidence, the eyes of a mature man, aware of his power of seduction over you.
“Stop being a brat and grind on me. I know you need it bad.”
You rolled your hips slowly, grinding against his hard cock. His hands firmly laid on your hips, but letting you lead the pace. His jeans almost hurt your inner thighs but you needed that friction against your soaked pussy. That sweet pain, the one that helps to feel better, like an itch that can be relieved only when you scratch it a little. He pulled your neckline down roughly, cupping your breasts in his palms before taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking it.
“Joel…,” you whimpered.
“Keep humping me, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that. She needs it, uh?”
He took your nipple back in his mouth, licking and then nibbling on it lightly, pressing on your shoulders to feel you more.
“Use me. Use me to get off,” he said, the need in his voice showing you how much he loved feeling you rub yourself against him. You kept rolling your hips, moaning “Joel, Joel…,” your whimpers getting louder and louder, until you breathed out “it’s good, so good, I’m gonna come,” just before you came against him, whining into his neck, trembling. Your desire wetting your panties even more and flowing onto his jeans.
You let your forehead rest against him, panting into his skin that you kissed as he stroked your back, before you pulled back and faced his dark eyes.
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“I wanna suck your cock,” you said, kneeling down and unzipping his jeans.
“Yeah? Gonna help me with that after your little game? That's what you wanted, uh? Wanted me to get fuckin’ hard, while I couldn't do anything about it.”
You nodded, there was no more brat attitude left in you, just eagerness as you pulled his cock out gently, and watched his weeping, red tip. You licked your lips and spread the precum around his slit with your thumb. You sucked him the way he liked, lingering on his tip for a long time, licking, sucking. Each time, you wanted to give him the sloppiest head, so that he wouldn’t think about anyone else. Wouldn’t want anyone else.
When you took his length in your mouth, getting used to its thickness, pressing your tongue against his quivering skin, you felt him shiver. Until he pressed his cock against the back of your throat, and finally put his hands on your head. You loved feeling his underlying power, his pressure on your temples.
“Don’t move,” he said in a low voice, his length buried in your hot throat. You felt his tip twitch. Finally he started to thrust, fucking your mouth and your throat, using you as a fuck hole.
The mouth of his best friend’s daughter. He didn’t think about it anymore, when he was buried in one of your three holes. His remorse was forgotten. He didn’t care what could happen next, where this relationship or whatever it was, would take both of you. Didn't think about the consequences anymore. Only your warmth, your tightness welcoming his cock, mattered.
His hands firmly gripping your head, he thrusted in, and began fucking your mouth relentlessly. From the first time he’d fucked you, you noticed how different he was from your previous boyfriends. He loved when you teased him. He loved being seated on his couch, manspreading, while you were dancing lasciviously in front of him, waiting for him to break and reach out to you. But sometimes, often, you were the one breaking first. 
When you danced like that, his gaze was full of promise. Promise to fuck you so well you’d forget your own name when he was done with you.
Guys of your age didn’t have that patience.
He loved to make you come several times before spilling his cum. Sometimes he made you come again after, with his tongue or fingers, leaving you breathless and cock dumb. 
Your ex boyfriends usually didn’t care.
But he cared.
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You let him use your mouth, let him move your head back and forth. Let him bury himself in the back of your throat. You learned not to gag anymore, when he fucked it. He trained you to do it. 
His hands froze on your temples, and you knew he was about to shoot hot ropes of cum that would hit the back of your throat.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna come… swallow all of it, sweetheart. Like a good girl, just like I taught you.”
His cum spurted out, and drop by drop, you swallowed it all. Then you carefully cleaned his shaft, his tip, until he pulled out. He put his cock back in his pants, and zipped them.
“You should go, you’re gonna be late.”
“Do you have something to tell me, Joel?”
“Good evening?” He sighed when he saw your eyes, a little blurry, and added “and keep those wet panties on. I want you to remember how you came humping me, while you’re out with your friends.”
You didn’t try to meet his gaze when you heard his words, and you left.
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Babe? Babe!” You heard your friend’s voice in the distance. You were so lost in your thoughts. Always the same. Joel.
“What’s wrong with you?”
You spread your hands in front of you, as if to mean you had no idea what she was talking about.
“We’re supposed to have fun and you seem… somewhere else. What’s on your mind, babe?”
You answered that everything was fine, and tried to push Joel out of your thoughts. Joel who had told you that you weren’t a couple, that you didn’t have a relationship because your father, other people couldn’t know. That this thing between you was a bonus that you were giving each other. But that there couldn’t be more.
So when a guy of your age approached you and asked you to dance, you didn’t say no. When he offered you a drink and asked if you wanted to join him in the bathroom of the bar, you didn’t say no either. Sat on the bathroom sink, you let him eat you out.
And you only thought about Joel who always did it so perfectly, knew when to lick lightly, when to suck on your clit, knew how to fill you with two of his fingers. You had to think about him, the whole time that guy was eating you out. You had to think about Joel’s beard and mustache, scratching tenderly or roughly against your sensitive skin.
It was the only way for you to come.
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When you left the bathroom, Joel was the first person you saw. Dark stare. Then darker than ever, when his gaze fell on the man who walked out of the room right after you. You froze before heading to your table, but he grabbed your arm before you sat down. 
“I’m taking you back home. Now.”
“Are you mad? I come home whenever I want.”
“Wow wow! What’s going on? Are you her dad?” Joel looked at this man whose name you didn't even know, from his full height, fists clenched. Joel looked at him as if he wanted to throw him to the ground, making him take a step back.
“No I ain’t her dad, luckily for you”, he growled. He turned to you before adding “I said, now.”
You followed him, like a docile dog. Turned on by his jealousy and attitude.
“Get in the damn car,” he grumbled. He started driving, silent, hands clenching the wheel until his knuckles were white.
“Joel…”
“Don’t,” he rambled. “Don’t say a word.”
You sank into the seat, waiting for him to drop you off at your place. But he pulled into his driveway.
“Follow me,” he said, without waiting for you.
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When you joined him at his house, his hands were on his hips, his gaze turned towards the ground.
“You fucked him?” he asked in a low voice.
“No. No I didn't.”
“He fucked you?”
“No, damn… He didn't fuck me.”
“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, in a way that was clear- he didn't believe a word you were telling him.
“Yeah,” you confirmed.
“Don't lie to me. You got that “just fucked” face.”
“Damn, I… He went down on me, that's all.”
“You let him go down on you? On that pussy?”
If you didn't know him, his tone might have seemed detached. But you had known him for a long time, and the surprise mixed with jealousy didn't escape you. Actually, it was even more than a surprise. Almost a shock.
You even felt like he was holding back from saying “my pussy.” But he had been clear about you two. Fun.
“Why do you care? You don’t want anything serious.”
“He ate you with your wet panties on? He pushed them to the side?” You nodded shyly, almost embarrassed.
“Fuck, come here,” he said, grabbing you by the hips before pulling you back towards the couch, your feet dragging in an attempt to keep up with his pace.
He pushed you roughly to sit you down and knelt down in front of you. He pulled your dress up and practically ripped your panties off, and yanked your hips towards the edge of the couch.
“I think this pussy needs to remember who makes her come,” he growled, already pushing two fingers inside you. “You're fucking soaked. You came in his damn mouth?”
“Yes I… Fuck, Joel!” He was fingering your pussy quickly, as if he wanted to remove any memory of any man other than himself.
“Was he good at it?”
“Yeah, he was perfect. Made me come so quickly.”
He slapped your swollen clit and you whined, tears at the corner of your eyes.
“I said, don't lie to me,” he spat at you, stopping his fingers deep inside your pussy.
You lowered your head before answering.
“No, he wasn't good at it. Had to think about someone else to come. Had to think about you,” you whined. “Stop being mean to me, I didn't do anything wrong!”
“I need to remind you how this cunt needs to be eaten. Like the damn slut she belongs to.”
This wasn't the first time he'd degraded you. He'd noticed early on how receptive you were to it. And the way your pussy squeezed his fingers couldn't hide it, once again.
He settled between your thighs, lapping at your cunt still soaked with another man’s saliva, your pleasure and your desire for Joel.
He dove in like it was his last meal on earth, lapping, sucking, mixing his saliva with someone else's and he didn't care. Your hands tangled in his curls. Your orgasm was building and Joel stopped just before you exploded on his fingers and tongue.
“No Joel! Please, why did you stop?”
“I don't want another tongue on this cunt. Ya hear me?”
“But you said…” He slapped your clit again, making you whimper.
“Repeat it.”
“I… fuck, Joel! Jesus… You don't want another tongue on this cunt.”
“If I see you with anyone else again, if I hear about you with anyone else, I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for days.”
Your pussy clenched around his fingers without you being able to control your body.
“Jesus Christ, you fuckin’ like it? You want to get punished over my knee like the dirty little brat you are?”
“I… no, I… fuck…”
“Pussy's drooling even more. Unbelievable…” He started to finger you again, slowly, and placed his thumb on your swollen and sensitive clit, making you whimper. “You were a good girl, with proper manners. And now… can't think straight since you took my fat cock, right?”
“I'm… fuck. I'm a good girl.”
“Really?” he smirked darkly. “Good girls don’t get their pussy eaten by a stranger in a damn bar.” He leaned down and licked a long stripe from your hole already filled with his fingers to your clit, before stopping again cruelly. “Good girls don’t make their man jealous,” he added before diving between your thighs, fingering you fast and so hard that his knuckles tapped against your entrance. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it perfectly. 
“My… my man?”
He didn't answer, growling from the depths of your thighs, making you squirm on his fingers as he fingered you hard, until jets spurted out suddenly and wetted his face.
“Fuck yeah! that’s a good girl, squirting on my face, jesus, sweetheart…”
You were completely gone, not realizing that you were cumming on his fingers still buried inside you, until he replaced them with his tongue. He drank everything you gave him, greedy, eager. You kept squirming but his strong grip kept you seated on the couch.
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When your jolts stopped, he grabbed your arm to lift you up and bent you over the dining room table. His hand tightened on the back of your neck, and he unzipped his jeans, lowering them mid-thigh with the other one, before sinking into you in one go, grunting like an animal.
He buried his fingers in the flesh of your hip, pumping into you. Hard, deep thrusts, growling “take it, just like that,” and you could only take it. Letting him feed on your needy pussy, on your low moans that he could barely hear, fucking you so hard that you were almost speechless except for the whimpers.
“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” He kept thrusting in, filling you like only he knew how.
“Harder, Joel. Harder, please,” you begged.
“Jesus…”
Clinging to the edge of the table, you tried to remain as still as possible despite his roughness that threw you forward with every thrust.
“Say my name”, he said in a needy voice. You didn’t hear him and he scoffed. “Too cock dumb to even hear me,” he growled before spanking your ass, hard, making you squeal.
“Joel!!!”
“Oh, you’re back? I said, say my fucking name.”
“J… Joel…”
“That’s right. Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours.”
A second spank landed on your already red skin.
“Say it again.”
“Damn, Joel?! Your pussy… my pussy’s yours, damnit…”
A third spank, even harder than the other ones. “Joel, what the fuck??” you whined.
“Squeezin’ me so tight, each time I spank you… don’t pretend you don’t like it, dirty fucking girl.”
You didn't answer. He was right, you liked it. He knew it and you knew it. You liked his strength, you liked that he used you. You liked being his.
“I’m gonna come. Gonna fill you up, fuck!”
He shot his cum deep in your pussy and didn't stop thrusting, pumping you full until you milked his cock.
Your hand against the wood of the table, you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as his heavy body pressed against yours.
“You said it was just for fun… What happened?” you murmured.
“Ain’t what I said. I said, your father can't know. The neighbors, your friends, can't know. But you… you gotta know. I don't share. Got it?”
“Yeah… got it.”
You smiled, feeling his breath against your neck, and his hand tightening on yours, on the wood of the table.
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Thank you for reading 🙏
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️
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punkshort · 18 days ago
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Red Lace & Holiday Cheer
Thank you anon for this prompt!
Pairing: (ex)pornstar!joel miller x f!reader (established relationship)
Summary: While visiting him at work, you decide to give Joel his Christmas present early.
Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, fingering, reader wears lingerie
WC: 4K
Roommates Masterlist
The bar was loud.
It was three days before Christmas. Students on break from college had come home to visit their families for the holidays but the first chance they got, they made plans to connect with friends they hadn't seen since summer. The entire street was packed with twenty-something year olds, every bar was filled to the brim, including the one Joel owned.
You had helped him decorate it for the holidays just two weeks prior. A small Christmas tree with chunky, multi-colored lights sat in the front. Twinkling white lights framed each large window and a garland was wrapped around the door. You even managed to find a spot for a couple large wreaths above the bar.
From your spot on the dance floor with Maria, you could just barely see Tommy's head. He was pouring drinks as fast as possible, hardly giving himself a chance to breathe. Surprisingly, Joel was no where to be found. If you had to guess, he was either bringing up a keg or doing his rounds on the floor, checking in with patrons and seeing if they needed anything while also keeping an eye out for trouble makers.
He had really grown into the role as a bar owner. It seemed like the perfect fit after he had quit the adult film industry. Not only was he his own boss, but he got to work with his brother. Your only complaint was the long nights, although you and Maria tried to frequent the bar at least once a week to see them while they worked. Typically, there was plenty of time to talk, but the week of Christmas had the bar feeling like more of a nightclub.
"Where's Joel?" Maria shouted over the music. You fanned your sweaty chest with your hand and scanned the crowded room.
"I don't know! Don't think I've seen him all night!" you yelled back. You checked the time and frowned. You always saw him at least once, even when it's busy, before midnight. He always sought you out, no matter what. You turned back to Maria with a look of concern.
"I'm gonna go see if I can find him!"
She nodded and gave you a thumbs up before turning her back, still swaying along with the music.
You pushed your way through the crowd, making a face when drunk frat boys or some familiar looking locals who were trying their luck with the college girls accidentally bumped into you. After what felt like an eternity of almost getting beer sloshed down your bright red dress from clueless patrons, you finally bellied up to the bar. You leaned over the edge of the wood, catching Tommy's eye. He nodded in your direction and you sat back on your heels as you waited for him to finish up at the other end of the bar.
"What you need, sugar?" Tommy yelled over the noise. Your gaze flickered down to his cheesy Christmas shirt and grinned.
"Is that thing getting you any extra tips?"
He shook his head and you laughed. "Nah, but it's fun. Tryin' to get into the spirit!"
"It was Maria's idea, wasn't it?" you yelled.
"Hundred percent!" he shouted back. You heard others off to your right trying to get his attention so you cut to the chase.
"Where's Joel?"
"Office! He was on the phone with some vendor last I saw 'em."
You nodded and shot him a thumbs up before you began your second journey, although mercifully it was shorter. His office was just down a short hallway behind the bar. Still, the crowd was thickest and rowdiest right where you were trying to walk. You had almost made it unscathed when you heard a curse and felt a splash of some cold liquid down your arm.
"Shit!" you exclaimed. You began to flick your arm of any excess when a young man's voice shouted out to you.
"I'm sorry!" he slurred, but when you looked up and your eyes locked, a slow smirk stretched across his face. He couldn't have been more than twenty-two, surrounded by his buddies who were giving him little shoves in your direction. He took a few steps forward and held out his hand.
"I'm Chris," he offered. "Lemme buy you a drink, make it up to you."
His eyes slithered up and down your body, clearly appreciating the short red Christmas dress you had chosen to wear that night.
"Thanks, but I'm fine," you said, giving him a wave and turning back towards the bar. He tapped your shoulder and you swiveled around.
"C'mon, it's the least I could do. Almost ruined that gorgeous dress of yours," he tried while licking his lips.
You sighed and crossed your arms.
"I'm dating the guy who owns this place. I can drink for free," you snapped, patience growing thin when you added, "And have anyone thrown out."
Chris whistled and rose his hands in defeat.
"Alright, suit yourself."
He backed away towards his friends and you made quick work of pushing through the remaining crowd to get back behind the bar. The moment you stepped foot in the small hallway, it already felt calmer. You sashayed a little drunkenly past the breakroom and employee bathroom before stopping at the closed door at the end of the hall that had a stocking hanging from it with Joel's name painted in glitter. With excitement tingling under your skin, you rapped your knuckles softly against the wood and pressed your ear against the door.
"It's open!"
The old door squeaked on its hinges when you opened it and slipped inside, smiling when you saw Joel hunched over his desk, scribbling something on an invoice. His office wasn't much to look at; dingy old laminate floors, a desk that looked like it was from the seventies, two tall file cabinets that were overflowing and shoved in a corner, and one measly light above your head that had one bulb burnt out. But it was peaceful. It was quiet. And by that point, it reminded you of Joel. His cologne hung in the air, even when he hadn't been in the room for hours. On top of one filing cabinet was a decorative Christmas tree and on the back of his door was a wreath, both of which you put in there when he wasn't paying attention.
He finally looked up and you saw the tension instantly drain from his face when he saw it was you.
"Hey," he said softly, dropping his pen so he could stand to greet you, chair groaning from the loss. He rounded the desk and pulled you into his arms. Your mouths sought each other out like magnets and you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck with a contented sigh when you finally felt his lips on you once again.
"Where have you been?" you pouted, gazing up at him while still hanging around his neck. His hands flattened against your back, the material of your dress bunching a little and exposing your legs even more.
"Been busy workin'. Sorry, darlin'. Lost track of time," he told you, but his eyes were drifting down your dress. "You been here this whole time wearin' this thing?"
"What? You don't like it?" you teased.
Joel scoffed and shook his head. "Like it a little too much. What's the occasion?" He finally dragged his eyes back up to meet yours.
"The occasion is it's Christmas," you said while your fingers began to fiddle with the short hairs on the back of his neck.
"Christmas ain't for a few more days."
"Well, maybe I wanted to give you your gift early," you smirked. Joel groaned in the back of his throat and pulled you closer so your body was pressed tightly against his. You began to pepper kisses along his neck, pausing when you reached his pulse to whisper, "Unless, that is, you're too busy."
"Lock the fuckin' door," he said lowly. A shiver rolled down your spine and you spun out of his hold to do exactly as he asked.
"Can't just wait, huh?" Joel scolded while he undid his belt and dropped it to the floor. You bit your lip, heart skipping excitedly in your chest as you backed up towards his desk. You stopped when you felt the edge press into the backs of your thighs and grinned.
"Sorry. I just thought you'd really want to open it now." You reached one arm behind you and slowly tugged at your zipper. Joel's eyes darted to lock onto the movement while his hands worked on opening his pants. You could tell he was loving every second of your little show. His lips were parted, breath coming in short pants, and his neck was already growing flush.
When your dress felt loose, you knew you reached the end of the zipper. Your chest heaved with anticipation before finally wiggling out of your dress and letting it fall to your feet.
You weren't lying. You really did have something for him under your clothes, although scraps of material like a see-through red teddy with a plunging neckline was difficult to define as anything substantial.
His eyes immediately bugged out of his head.
"Oh, Christ," he choked out. You giggled, pleased to have taken him by surprise. You hardly ever had the upper hand in the bedroom, not with the experience he brought by being an ex-pornstar, but on that day, you did.
His face paled when he saw your body in that teddy. Well, considering how much skin he could actually see through it, it hardly felt like you were wearing much at all, but Joel didn't seem to see it that way. He was absolutely hypnotized, completely unable to look away. His eyes greedily raked over every inch of you and you smiled to yourself when you realized he hadn't even yet noticed the panties you were wearing were crotchless.
"You like it?" you asked when his gawking had gone on long enough. You twirled so he could see the back, his throat bobbing when he saw the way your ass was exposed in your barely there panties. Joel forced his eyes up when you stood before him expectantly, feeling so excited and nervous that you had to bounce from foot to foot.
"You look beautiful," he finally whispered. You grinned and reached out both hands for him, laughing a little when he stumbled over his own feet to join you. As thrilled as you were to throw Joel off his game, it incited something deep within you when he took control again. He crowded you against his desk and dragged his hands fucking everywhere. Down your arms, over your stomach, across your back, feeling the lacy material under his big hands. And only when one hand cupped your breast and the other reached down to squeeze your ass did your own breath get stolen away.
"You're a bad girl," he murmured against the shell of your ear. Your eyelids fluttered closed as heat pooled between your legs, torturous and aching. "Wearin' this all night while I sat back here fightin' on the phone 'bout goddamn shipping rates?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth but it quickly melted into a gasp when his teeth pinched your skin, right under your ear.
"Joel," you moaned his name, tipping your head back while his mouth dragged down the column of your throat. You reached between your bodies, fingers searching for the inevitable bulge you knew you would find, and smiling to yourself when you felt his cock jump under your touch.
"Gonna let me fuck you?" you heard him ask. His lips trailed across your collarbone to begin their ascent up the opposite side of your neck. "Right here? In the back of a dirty bar?"
"I'd let you fuck me anywhere," you rasped, hopping up onto his desk and spreading your legs. He stepped between your knees, face buried against your throat and hips pressing stubbornly against your center as he continued to leave red marks across your chest and neck. He chuckled, the vibration from his voice sending shockwaves from your pulse point to the bottom of your stomach.
"Gonna hold you to that one day."
You were in a lust filled haze, completely absorbed with the way Joel kissed you, deep and messy and urgent, to notice when his hand traveled lower. His fingertips grazed between your legs, right where a thin strip of fabric should have been, but to his shock and delight, found nothing except your bare, leaking pussy.
"Fuck me," he groaned, leaning back to get a good look. He swiped his thumb through your slit and you whimpered, causing his dark eyes to snap up to yours with a deadly smirk.
"You liked this, huh?" His fingers spread your folds while your arms began to shake, propped up behind you and ready to collapse. "You liked dancin' around in that short dress, knowin' this soft little pussy was naked under there, waitin' for me to fuck her?"
"Mhm," was all you could muster. Not a single word could be formed in that moment when his middle finger prodded at your opening, testing you, before sinking inside. You tossed your head back with a shaky moan and spread your legs wider, encouraging him to continue, to give you more.
You could only imagine how you looked in that moment; elbows holding you up with your head hanging back between your shoulders in bliss, legs spread wide while wearing slutty Christmas lingerie across his desk as music thumped steadily through the walls. However it looked, though, was worth the hungry way Joel stared down at you with his hand working slowly between your thighs, one thick finger curling but purposely not touching the spot that made you come undone.
Your hips wiggled as you tried to chase his hand, desperate for him to give you what you needed, but he held you down, stilling your movements.
"Quit it."
"Joel," you whined, but he shook his head.
"This is my gift, remember?" he tutted.
He pulled out his finger and you huffed, frustrated. With heavy lidded eyes, you watched him pop the finger that was just inside of you into his mouth. He made a satisfied noise while reaching inside his pants. The second he pulled out his cock, your eyes drifted down and watched as he slowly stroked himself up and down.
You should have been used to him by then, but it never failed to send a wave of nerves through you when you saw the sheer size of him, something that served him very well in his old career and now something only you benefitted from.
One of his hands planted itself at your hip when he came to stand between your legs and he began to drag the tip of his cock through your arousal. You sighed and went to lay down flat across his desk, but he stopped you.
"Nuh uh. Want you to watch," he muttered. You caught his eye and your heart flipped in your chest at the look he gave you. You swallowed tightly and gave him a brief nod, confirming you would do as he asked. Then and only then did he drop his gaze to between your legs, spreading your lips with his thumbs to make room for the thick head of his cock to rest at your opening.
You watched together as he pressed forward ever so slightly, just barely kissing your pussy before pulling back entirely. He did it again and when he shifted back a second time, you gave him a pathetic little whine. His eyes darted back up to yours and he grinned.
"Be patient."
"C'mon, Joel... it's Christmas," you pouted. He chuckled, his stern facade fading, and shook his head.
"Alright," he breathed, and half a second later jut his hips forward, feeding you half his length in one pass. You gasped sharply and fell backwards onto his desk, unable to hold yourself up any longer.
He cursed under his breath, dragging himself back until just his tip remained sheathed inside you, then pushed forward once again, but that time he gave you every devastating inch of his impressive cock. You both gasped, sucking all the air out of the room with your heavy, quick panting as you each struggled to adjust.
"Goddamn," he murmured. Your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth agape as you focused on the stretch, but you pried them open so you could confirm he was just as wrecked as you felt.
"Oh, honey, you look fuckin' beautiful like this." His eyes were fixated on where you were connected, where red lace framed your exposed cunt. His dark eyes snapped up to yours when he very seriously added, "We're gonna get alotta use out of this gift, baby."
"That was the idea," you giggled breathlessly. There was a loud cheer through the walls when the song changed. It sounded like a bunch of guys right up against the bar, just twenty or thirty feet away who had no idea you were about to get fucked within an inch of your life.
"Good song," Joel said casually. He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly began to rock his hips. Your mind went quiet, not a single thought drifting through your head except for how good it felt when he bottomed out inside you.
He was gentle at first. He knew he was alot to take so he always started with shallow thrusts, paying close attention to your cues. When your thighs relaxed and your breathing evened out, that was when he began to give it to you faster. Harder. Deeper. It was only a few minutes until his hips slammed into yours so forcefully that it had your back arching and your hand scrambling to hold onto the edge of the desk above you.
"Fuck - fuck - fuck," he huffed, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips. You whined and squirmed across the desk, trying to catch your breath. One of Joel's hands pressed flat against the desk for leverage, the other roughly gripped your waist to hold you steady, and his eyes remained fixated on the way your body stretched to accommodate his size. Every single time, it amazed him.
A loud knock came from the door. Your eyes locked, his hips slowed, and you shook your head. You mouthed the word don't. He made a face but acquiesced, then continued to fuck you, just slower and quieter. A second loud knock came and an annoyed Tommy yelled out, "Joel? C'mon, man, we need more Coors."
"Have fuckin' Steve do it, I'm busy!" he shouted back. You scowled then stifled a moan when he ground himself against you, rubbing your clit with the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft.
"Steve's on break!"
Joel snarled and reared back, grabbing the underside of both your knees and tugging you close.
"Gimme five minutes!" he yelled, voice only slightly giving away your compromising position when it cracked near the end of his sentence.
"Five?" you whispered with a disappointed look.
"Ten! Ten minutes!"
Finally you heard Tommy grumble under his breath and retreat back down the hall.
"I'll make you come in five minutes," Joel panted with a cocky grin. He began to pummel into you harder once again, picking up right where he left off. "Wanted to bend you over and come all over that perfect ass, but I'll save that for next time."
You groaned and tilted your chin to the ceiling as you felt that familiar tightness begin to pull low in your belly. Joel shifted, adjusting the way he was standing between your legs, and you cried out when the tip of his cock began to stroke against that spot that had you seeing stars. Blindly, you reached out to hold onto something, but only ended up scattering unpaid invoices and receipts onto the floor.
Words failed you. Heat flared deep inside, bright hot flames roaring to life in mere seconds that had your muscles going rigid and your spine curling off the desktop. There was no warning. There was nothing you could do except give into the intense pleasure as you choked on your words.
"Oh, shit," Joel grunted, hand reaching between you to rub firm circles over your clit. "S-shit, you're gonna come," he gasped right as your cunt clamped down around him. You wailed out a broken version of his name, legs trembling around his waist. He quickly fell forward, his body covering yours, and your lips connected in messy, wild kisses. Seconds later and with a deep groan echoing inside your mouth, Joel came, filling you with his thick, hot release until his cock stopped twitching and a shudder shot through his entire body.
You whimpered Joel's name and that was when he realized you were shaking violently. With his chest still heaving, he propped himself onto his elbows and slid his cock from between your legs before gathering you up in his arms and holding you close, enveloping you with his warmth.
"I got you," he murmured over and over into your hair. You nodded weakly, head still buzzing and hands still shaking. Slowly, your eyes reopened. Your pulse began to slow and your breaths grew deeper each time you pulled in air. You nuzzled your face into his shoulder, sighing from the comforting strokes of his hand over your back.
"You okay?" he asked after a few quiet minutes. You nodded and took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne mixing with his deodorant calming your frayed nerves even more.
"That was... intense," you whispered, lips searching for his throat. Joel continued to soothingly rub your back.
"You did so good, baby."
You smiled and nipped gently at his skin. "Did you enjoy your present?"
Joel's chest rumbled with a soft chuckle before he responded.
"This little number was a beautiful gift, but I don't need any of it, you know that, right?" he asked. "All I want is you."
"Are you saying that all you want for Christmas is... me?" You grinned when you leaned back to look up at him hazily. Joel laughed at your corny joke and cupped your face with both his hands to pull you in for a tender kiss.
"Yeah," he murmured against your lips. "Man can't ask for much else when he's already got everythin' he needs in one perfect little package."
You wrapped your arms around his neck as your cheeks warmed from his compliment. "I love you," you told him earnestly. Every time he heard those words, it made him smile.
"I love you, too."
Right when he leaned down for another kiss, a loud knock cracked against the door.
"Joel! The Coors!"
"God-fuckin'-" Joel grumbled before shouting, "I'm comin' right now! Jesus Christ!"
His eyes found yours and he gave you an apologetic look.
"You gonna be alright? Just gimme a few minutes-"
"I'm good," you told him with a firm nod, then gave his chest a little shove, pushing him towards the door. "Go. You have a bar to run."
He tucked himself back into his pants with a hiss and swiveled around before locating a box of tissues and handing them to you.
"Lock the door after I leave. This," he dragged his finger up and down in the air, indicating your skimpy lingerie, "is just for me to see."
"Yes, sir," you giggled with your legs still dangling over the edge of his desk. He shook his head in disbelief and fixed his shirt before disappearing out into the hallway.
Slowly, you cleaned yourself up as best you could and fixed the teddy before slipping your dress back on, concealing your little secret once again. You had your hand on the doorknob, poised to leave, when a thought occurred to you. Quickly, you shimmied your panties down your legs and hurried behind his desk to drop them in one of his drawers. You smiled proudly to yourself and headed back towards the door, already planning what new set you should surprise him with for Valentine's Day.
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gghostwriter · 4 months ago
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Whispered Truths
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your weekly reading club with boyfriend, Spencer Reid, has never been as sweet and life-changing as this night Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 0.8k a/n: This is actually a request from @bloodredrubyrose and I really liked how this came out. I also used my favorite piece of fiction here as a prop so I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist
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Couples, no matter how new or old, tend to create personalized dates as a way to strengthen the relationship. Some go on hikes together, some go on travels, while some stay in the comfort of their homes—under a blanket with a chosen book on hand.
You and Spencer definitely fall under the latter category. It was quite obvious from the first meeting that literature would be one of the strongest bonding agents between you and him. After all, it was how you were brought together—crashing into one another at the library with books and miscellaneous items scattered on the tiled floor. A few shy glances and bewitching dates later, you found yourself spending your Saturday nights in the presence of your boyfriend of six months, hosting an exclusive reading club with just two members, you and him.
“I never thought of it that way,” your left hand paving an aimless path through Spencer’s curly hair while the other held the book up high.
The pitter patters of the rain outside softly echoed through the walls. You were propped up on the loveseat sofa, his head resting on your lap as he looked upwards in question in regards to your statement.
“Never thought of which?” His voice low and soft, striking a resemblance to how he gazed at you oh so lovingly. As if you were the most riveting piece if art he had ever laid his eyes upon.
“How water played a big symbol throughout the whole book. It was really focused on during the first chapters but I—I just never quite connected the dots,” you clarified, bring the book to a close.
It was your choice for the week, East of Eden by John Steinbeck—a modern classic and had been your favorite work of literature since high school. Spencer had lent his copy to you last week and you vice versa—both turning brown from age, pages about to fall apart from its binding, annotations scribbled on the margins and any lengthy self reflections written on various notebook pages sandwiched in between.
“Your explanation on the empty pages at the end—how water is capable of bringing both life and death. Water being essential for the crops but at the same time, drowned victims. It’s such a poignant note that I think I just fell more in love with Steinbeck’s writing,” you added. “It also made me realize how water in his novel represents the dual capacity of the human soul for good and evil. How we are all filled with conundrums and contradictions and what makes us different from the other species on Earth is our ability to choose whether we are good or evil—” Spencer had sat up and leaned in, interrupting your musings. “—what?” You breathed out as his lips hovered on yours.
The once cozy atmosphere quickly charged with tension and desire that seemed to ooze out of Spencer. There was little space in between and you had no doubt that from the outside looking in, it looked like he was kissing you but he was not, rather a sliver of air was still given space to pass through. So close but so far.
You studied his features up close. How his long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings beating against the wind as his molten, darkened, hazel eyes flickered between your lips and eyes. How his nose lightly caressed yours in an endless Eskimo kiss. How his cheeks stained into a lighter shade of red. And how his pink tongue peeked out to wet his pillowy lips. 
“I’m in love with you,” he whispered as if it was some kind of national secret that he now felt right to expose.
Your breath caught in your throat. This was the first time he had said it. His love for you had been conveyed with every touch, with every action, and with every silence but this was the first time he had put it into words.
His lips caressed yours—the pressure almost non-existent. A ghost of a kiss to gauge your reaction and consent.
“I love you,” he repeated a little louder this time, eyes locking into the very depths of your soul. “You and your mind have enchanted me since the beginning—so beautiful, so captivating.”
The butterflies set free in your stomach caused you to viscerally shiver in reaction.
“I love you too, Spencer.”
A smile graced his face and it was bright and as blinding as the sun, like it had finally decided to stop hiding behind the clouds and show itself in all of its glory.
He leaned in once more. The pressure from his lips now heavier and headier, trying to stamp his everlasting mark on you and in between all these kisses were whispers of his utter devotion and adoration until there was no more space—until you both became one on his loveseat sofa.
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
795 notes · View notes
jiniretracha · 13 days ago
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𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝟏𝟎 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 - 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱
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Pairing: Lee Felix x fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, angst, slight smut (piv!)
Summary: Felix Lee makes a bet with his co-workers in which he had to make a woman fall in love with him within 10 days, but he picks the wrong woman, who's working on an article for the magazine she works for called 'How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days' and she had chosen him as his prey. Based on one of my comfort movies: How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003).
Word Count: a whooping amount of 13.2k
PS: this is an old fic of mine from my old ao3 account (that i don't use anymore lol), i rewrote it with Lix instead. You can check it out here. Also, i proofread this but i don't trust myself that much so, if you see any mistake, feel free to let me know pls.
MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi
Day 1
“I’m going back to bed, I have no reason to live”
“Oh Karina! Come on. Get up, I’m not gonna let you lose your job over a stupid guy” you said.
Karina laid in bed, tears both fresh and dried on her cheeks, heartbroken over a guy she met, fell in love with and then told her he didn’t want anything serious. 
“Oh, oh Y/N” Karina said, hugging you. 
“You only dated the guy for a week” You reminded her in a whisper. 
“It was the best week of my life, Y/N. He was perfect” she sniffled. 
You sighed and pulled away from the hug. “Come on. I’m sure Seulgi yelling at us because we didn’t write the article like she wanted us to will bring you back to reality and will make you forget about the douche you dated” you said with a smile, making her chuckle.
You helped her get dressed and then got in a taxi to the Composure offices, where you, Karina and your other best friend, Ryujin worked. Composure was a ‘girly or gay’ magazine, as everyone liked to call it, created by Kang Seulgi, where you could find either the latest trend in fashion, the Kardashians latest fake scandal or how to catch men like Harry Styles. You found all the articles that were written in the magazine a little bit sexist, you studied journalism to become a real one, not a gossip writer for a cheap magazine. But it was a job that gave you a certain status, you couldn’t complain. 
When you arrived at the Composure offices, you opened the door of the cab for Karina, who held a couple of tissues in her hand. She blew her nose and got surprised by Ryujin who was holding a cup holder with 3 newly ordered coffees from Starbucks. “Hey honey” Ryujin winced when she saw Karina state.
“I don’t really wanna talk about it okay?” she smiled through the pain, making you and Ryujin nod. 
You got inside the big building and pressed the button that led to the Composure floor. 
Karina broke down and leaned her head on the elevator wall. “Why? Why does this always happen to me? I get this great guy, and everything’s amazing for a week and a half, and suddenly, it’s over and I’m mystified!” she cried. 
The people inside the elevator were looking at the girl with furrowed eyebrows and you glared at them, making them look the other way.
“Mingyu and I had such a connection” she gushed over him. “Like-like the first time we had sex, it was so beautiful. I even cried” she said.
You pressed your lips together, suddenly very aware of the people inside the elevator. “You mean like, shed a tear, wiped it with a finger. Right?” 
“No, I was very emotional. I even told him that I loved him” she explained, with a shake of her head.
“After how many days?” Ryujin asked sipping on her coffee to hide her grimace.
“Five” she said and then looked the other way. “Two”
You and Ryujin sighed loudly.
“But… I just felt like he needed to know” she said. 
“Well, what did he say?” you asked.
Karina sighed. “He didn’t have to say anything. I knew he felt the same as me” she smiled and then she frowned. “But then he started getting really busy… I didn’t know where he was at times. I kept calling him, calling him and calling but he was never home!”
“You kept calling him?” You asked, wincing.
“Well he wasn’t answering” she defended herself. “Plus he didn’t know it was him, my number was blocked”
“Oh sweetie” Ryujin said. “I’m sure he thought it was one of his friends”
The elevator dinged and you got out, Ryujin and Karina following behind. 
“Rina, honey. You do realize you were way too pretty for him? I mean, you were like Kaia Gerber when she was dating Pete Davidson!” you explained. “You need to be in a relationship like Megan Fox and Machine Gun Kelly, you can’t decide which one is hotter” 
Karina huffed. “Maybe but… for me, he was really handsome. And cute. Ugh, he was perfect” she said and a few tears slipped from her cheek.
“No, wait. Don’t cry honey. What Y/N and I want to say is that you need to realize that if this guy didn’t like you for who you were, then screw him” Ryujin explained. 
“Yeah, but I know why he dumped me. I’m too fat” 
“You’re not fat!” both you and Ryujin said.
As you climbed up the stairs to get to your respective offices you sighed. “Okay, Rina, look. Even if the most beautiful girl in the world acted the way you did, a normal guy would still be running in the other direction” you said, as your friends followed behind you. 
“No guy would be running away from you, Y/N” Karina said. “I mean, you could barf all over him and he’d say, “Thank you, can you please do it again?”” she said, making you laugh.
“Okay, that is absolutely disgusting and totally not true!” you laughed at her metaphor. “Cause if I did the things you did, I’d get dumped too. Anyways, enough with this Mingyu bullshit. I got two tickets for the Knicks game for tomorrow that Ryujin got from his cousin, and since you’re the only one available, you could join me, maybe?”
“Nah thanks, I’d like to sit in my misery for a couple more days” Karina sighed. 
The three of you got inside Seulgi’s office along with other co-workers. 
“Alrighty, family. What do we got for the next issue?” Seulgi asked.
Ryujin raised her hand. “As you asked, I got the latest The Bachelor drama covered, and I also answered a few of the questions users asked us on the website”
Seulgi nodded. “Great work, Ryujin. What about How-To with Y/N?”
You smiled. “I worked on something different and completely new for the issue. It’s uh… a political piece--”
“--Y/N. You work for Composure magazine. Not Forbes” Seulgi said sternly. “We are fashion, drama, gossip, cosmetic surgeries, you name it. That’s what Composure is about”
“Yeah, I know but--”
“Y/N, you writing in the column is new for you, I get it. But you’re working for me , and until I decide when you are going to write whatever you want, you write whatever I want. Okay?”
“Yeah” you nodded, looking at your skirt, not wanting to look Seulgi in the eyes. 
“Karina, what do you got?” Seulgi sighed.
She lifted her head and paled. “I…Uh… sorry, Seulgi. I wasn’t feeling very well” Karina said.
“She got dumped” Ryujin quickly filled in, earning a glare from Karina. 
“Oh, no… Karina. It must be feeling hellish for you these past few days, but I must say you’re looking gorgeous” Seulgi complimented. “Doesn’t she?” she asked and everyone nodded, complimenting her. 
Karina sighed. “I haven’t been eating since the split”
“Good for you! Write about it” Seulgi said. Ryujin and you looked at each other and grimaced. 
“I can’t use my personal life as a story” she said, her voice small.
Seulgi smiled. “I understand completely. Who will use Karina’s story for their article?” she asked suddenly. 
“No, no, no. Wait, Seulgi. With all due respect no one has business here using my story for an article in a magazine, I’m sorry but--”
“I’ll do it” you said suddenly, an idea clicking in your mind. 
“What?” Karina looked at you. 
“I-I’ll sort of do it. You’ll be my inspiration” you said. “Like, look at Karina. She’s a great girl, right?” you asked, and Seulgi nodded with a curt yes and nodded for you to continue. “An amazing woman. But… she has a problem hanging onto relationships. No offense. And probably, doesn't know what she’s doing wrong, like it could happen to our readers. So, my idea was that I could start dating this guy and then drive him away but only using these common mistakes like girls like Rina or our readers commit all the time. I’ll even… keep a diary of it and it will be sort of a dating how-to in reverse”
Karina smiled at you and Seulgi clapped her hands together. “What not to do. Brilliant!” 
“Yeah”
“How to lose a guy in 10 days” Seulgi said. “Loved it, go. Now Sunoo, what’s the shoe story you wanted--”
“I’m sorry, Seulgi. Ten days? Why ten days?” you asked.
Her eyebrows arched. “Well, I figured 5 days is too short and we go to press in 11, so…” she said. 
Karina and Ryujin gave you thumbs up, making you smile at them, but innerly wondering how the hell would you manage to do this in only ten days.
-------------------
Felix Lee arrived at his office, parking his motorbike and taking off his helmet. As always, earning smiles and flirtatious looks from the ladies in the streets, but he loved the attention. 
Working as a publicity chief had its perks. You could share an office with your best friends and have an assistant that brings you lunch or whatever you want, but it also had its drawbacks like having a boss who’s riding your ass. That was Felix’s case. 
Felix got inside the building and into his office. “What’s up, Hyunjinnie?” he said.
Hyunjin looked up from his computer and smirked. “Oh, hey, Lix”
Jisung, his other best friend, got inside with a worried look. “Did you hear?”
“Hear what? About the Knicks game tomorrow? I did, and it’s pretty terrible, cause I didn’t get the tickets--”
Jisung sighed. “Not about the Knicks game. De Lauer diamonds is looking for a new ad agency and Mr. Park wants to move it aggressively”
“Yes!” Felix smiled. “Yes! This is a good day. Guys, did you know that diamonds are as common as taxis on Fifth Avenue?” he asked while taking his shirt off, and grabbing his dress shirt from the desk. The women in the office every day went crazy whenever he came in with a normal, regular shirt and changed it for a formal one. “The value is entirely sentimental… but we do have game in what we do the best. Advertising. So, my point is--” he said while buttoning his shirt up. “De Lauer owns the diamond market, meaning, if I represent them, I basically own everyone’s ass in the industry” he smiled.
Hyunjin sighed. “That’s the thing, Mr. Park already gave it to the Chaeyoung’s”
Felix’s eyes narrowed. Son Chaeyoung and Park Chaeyoung were his number 1 competitors inside the publicity business. “No way!”
“Yeah, it kind of makes sense when you have a pair of hot leggy chicks and we’re the beer and sneakers division, you know?” Hyunjin said. 
“No way, I’ll have this deal” Felix said.
Jisung and Hyunjin stepped in his way. “No, Mr. Park is on a plane right now, business meeting. He’s having dinner with the Chaeyoung’s tonight”
“Where?”
“At Yu Bar” Jisung said and Hyunjin nodded. 
“That fancy shithole? I’ll crash there and claim what’s ours guys. This will be my pitch, my account, my campaign, my baby. I make the rules now” he smirked. 
“It’s kind of hard when you have a millionaire right above your ass but we get your point bro, we’re with you” Hyunjin said with a shrug. 
“Hell yeah” Jisung smiled. 
----------------------
After work, you and the girls prepared yourselves to set a trap for the guy you were going to use for this ‘How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days’. 
You put on your best dress and put the plan in action, heading to Yu Bar, Karina’s parents restaurant. 
“I don’t think this will work, Y/N” Karina said with a frown walking down the street.
“Of course it will work, Rina. Just watch me hook a guy with my charms, like woo him a little that will make him want to see me again and then tomorrow I’ll pull the switch and make him nuts” you explained with ease. 
“Please tell me you’re not gonna burn down his apartment or bite him, are you?” Ryujin asked. 
You laughed at her comment. “No, I’m gonna limit myself to doing everything girls do that make men run off” you shrugged. “That means being clingy, needy--”
“Touchy-feely” Ryujin added and you nodded. “Oh, call him in the middle of the night just to tell him everything you had to eat that day” she smirked devilishly. 
“What’s wrong with that?” Karina asked, making you and Ryujin stop dead in your tracks. “I’m kidding”
You got inside Yu Bar and Karina gave a wink to the man guarding the door, letting him know they had free access to eat. 
“Well, Ryujin and I will grab a couple of drinks, in the meantime, you go search for a man that could easily fall for your trap” Karina said and grabbed Ryujin’s hand, guiding her to the bar. 
You nodded and looked around. Let’s get the plan started, you smirked to yourself. 
---------------
Mr. Park arrived at Yu Bar with the Chaeyoung’s behind him. 
“Hello Felix. What a surprise seeing you here” he said, surprised to see the freckled blonde sitting on the table he exclusively reserved for him and the Chaeyoung’s. 
The girls behind him scowled at the intrusive blonde, and he winked at them.
“Hello, Mr. Park. How’s it going?” he smirked, standing to shake the man’s hand. “Son, Park” he nodded to them. 
“I’m great, but what are you doing here?” he asked with a shake of his head, confused at the situation.
He sat down. “Well, I’m here for the meeting. I know I wasn’t invited but I should’ve. It was my tip De Lauer was shopping for a new firm” he smirked at the girls. 
“Yes, it was. But I was thinking about who suits best within the company” Mr. Park said.
“And that’s me” Felix said confidently. 
“Felix, I know you sell blow pretty well. But these ladies sell luxury faster than anyone” He said.
The blonde sighed, irritated to hear how his boss was complimenting his worst enemies. 
“We’re here to sell diamonds, mostly women. Because let’s face it. Women love diamonds and if we can make them seem appealing to them then boom” the freckled man said. “Selling a diamond to a woman is like making her fall in love. Like talking about head-over-heels in love, his-and-her towels, let’s grow old together, L-O-V-E, love” he explained. The Chaeyoung’s were giving him a strange look. “Look, I love women. I do. I respect them, and listen to them. And that’s why I can sell myself to any woman, anytime, any day, anywhere” he said.
“Make a woman fall in love with diamonds or with you, Felix?” Son Chaeyoung asked. 
Felix was taken aback with the question. “Either way… I’m pretty confident” he said. 
“I’d like to see you prove that” Park Chaeyoung challenged.
“Oh, you would?” 
She laughed. “The agency is co-hosting a party for the De Lauers at the museum. The party is in a week from sunday. Think you can make a woman fall in love with you by then?” Park Chaeyoung asked. 
Felix’s eyes narrowed and smiled a little. “Ten days?”
“Any woman, anytime, anywhere?” Son Chaeyoung chimed in.
“Yeah well, any woman, who’s single, straight and available, yeah” he said. 
Park Chaeyoung smirked. “Then it’s settled. I’ll choose a woman from this bar. Anyone. And then you decide”
Felix turned around with a smirk. “So, who’s the lucky girl?” 
Son Chaeyoung recognized you from the Composure offices as she was friends with both Mr. Park and Kang Seulgi. “Her” she pointed at you with an evil smirk.
Felix turned around and saw you. His heart fluttered a little bit when he saw you throwing your head back in a laugh with a drink in your hands, facing your friend Karina. He smiled and nodded. “Done”
“What?”
“Done. You’re on” he nodded at Son Chaeyoung. “You both are. But here are the stakes” he specified, making Mr. Park’s eyebrows arch. “After I win this bet, the pitch is mine”
“Agreed” Son Chaeyoung said.
“Mr. Park?”
“Agreed” he said. “You come to that party with a girl that’s really in love with you, Felix, and you can make the pitch to the De Lauers.”
The Chaeyoung’s looked at each other and sighed. 
“To the De Lauers” Mr. Park said, raising a toast to the four of them. 
-----------------
“Okay guys, this is not going as I thought it would. I charmed my way with two guys in ten minutes. The first one was gay, and the second one was married.” you sighed, dropping your ass on the stool. “Saw the fucking ring on his finger and the wallpaper on his phone”
Ryujin rubbed your arm. “You’ll find him. Don’t worry. Here’s your Manhattan” she said, handing you the drink. 
You noticed that your purse was not with you and you slapped yourself on the forehead. “Shit, I forgot my purse on the other side of the bar. I’ll be right back” you said, hopping off the stool. 
You made your way to where the purse was, and grabbed it. You were about to walk to where your friends were until a blonde, handsome, freckled, and sexy guy was standing right in front of you. Your eyes widened. 
“Hi” he said.
“Hi” you said, looking him up and down, while he did the same. “Y/N Y/L/N” you said and stretched your hand out. 
He smiled and took it. “Felix Lee” 
“Cute”
“Thank you” he said smugly.
You scoffed. “I meant your name” 
“Thank you two times”
“Unattached?” you asked. 
“Currently” he nodded, sipping his drink. 
“Likewise”
“Surprising” he said. 
“Psycho?”
“Rarely” he said and you hummed. “Interested?”
“Perhaps” you played hard to get.
“Hungry?”
“Starved actually” you said, twirling your hair with a finger.
“Leaving” he said confidently.
“Now?”
“Yep”
“Okay” you nodded. “Let me get my stuff then, Felix Lee” 
“I’ll meet you at the door” he said, and walked up to the entrance with a smile on his lips. 
You walked up to Karina and Ryujin and squealed. “Guys, I think I got one” you said.
“But he was married” Karina protested.
You laughed. “No, not him. The cute blonde who’s waiting at the door with the leather jacket” 
Ryujin peeped from just above your head and gasped. “Holy cow. He’s really cute”
“I’m gonna check if he’s a keeper. He promised he wasn’t psycho, though” you said, grabbing your purse. “I’m doing this for you. Bye guys”
You walked through the crowd until you reached Felix, who put a hand on your back and led you outside. You walked up to a car that was right by the entrance, thinking it was his until he grabbed your hand and led you to a motorcycle parked right next to it. 
You scoffed. “I… a bike?” you stammered.
“Yep. Here, I use the black one, and you the goofy-looking white helmet” he said, handing you the helmet with a smile. 
Your eyebrows furrowed. “You always pick up girls like this? Cause I’m telling you it is not charming at all” you said, laughing.
“Come on Y/N Y/L/N” he said, and you grabbed the helmet putting it on your head. He then let out a cute giggle and knocked on the helmet with his knuckles softly.  “Beautiful”
---------------
After you grabbed food, you headed to his apartment. He dropped his stuff on the kitchen table and offered to take off his jacket that was clinging to your shoulders. 
“So, I never got to ask you this but uh… what do you exactly do for a living? Cause let me tell you, this is a great apartment” you said, looking around.
“I’m in advertising” he said, putting the coat on the hanger beside the door. “I work mostly with alcoholic beverages and athletic companies, and now our big break is with jewelry companies” he said, turning around to face you.
“Huh. That’s pretty good. I love it”
“You?” he asked, grabbing two beers from the fridge. 
“I work at Composure” you said, grabbing the bottle he offered to you. 
His eyebrows raised at that. “Wow, fastest selling women's magazine in the US, that’s amazing” he smiled at you. “What do you write about? How to save a shopaholic’s life?”
You gasped. “Oh, wow. Calm down, sparky. I got a journalism degree from Columbia, thank you very much. My boss loves me and if I kiss her ass a little more, I will write about whatever the hell I want” you said proudly, sipping on your newly opened beer. 
“Like shoes- Ow” he said, his comment earning a punch. He laughed and rubbed his shoulder.
“No, smarty pants. I want to write about politics. Or… alcoholic beverages and athletic gear” you teased and he laughed. 
Felix smiled. “You’re mean. Do you bite?”
“Sometimes. I can if you want me to, freckles” you said with a glint in your eyes, that made his darken. 
He licked his lips. “Do you want to go to my room?” he asked. “You know, it’s pretty much… comfy there”
You smirked. “Yeah, let me go to the bathroom, real quick”
You walked to the bathroom and locked yourself in there, stifling your laugh. You caught this playboy-like guy who was too cocky for his own good. You dialed Ryujin’s number and looked at yourself in the mirror. 
“Are you at his apartment? I can’t believe you, Y/N!” Ryujin squealed.
“Yes, yes. I got him”
“You’re not gonna sleep with him are you?” Karina asked. 
You rolled your eyes. “No, Rina. I have self-control. Unlike other people”
Karina gasped. “That was mean. That hurt”
Meanwhile, Felix lit some candles and put them in his room, smirking at himself. 
“You have to take down notes. Remember the article” Ryujin said.
“Yeah, I know, Ryu. I gotta go. I’ll text you guys the details then. Bye” you said and pressed the red button, finishing the call and straightening up your dress. This was going to be fun. 
You got out of the bathroom and took in his room, all lit by candles while a slow R&B song was playing in the background. 
“Wow, this is impressive” you said, grabbing the beer you had left on the stand. 
He sat on the chest of drawers he had and patted the empty space. You smiled and sat down next to him, dropping your purse next to you and sipping on your beer. You two stayed in silence, just enjoying each other’s company, until you got bored of it, and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
He let you for a couple of seconds until he pulled his head back a little with a groan. “Wait, let’s not go too fast” he whispered. 
Your heart sank. He’s not as easy as I thought. Blinking several times, you nodded, fake blushing, trying to guilt-trip him into kissing you. 
You tried to take a sip from your beer but he pushed it away and kissed the breath out of you. He made you stand up, your kiss never breaking. Wrapping your arms around him, you opened your mouth and welcomed his tongue. You felt the control slipping from your fingers and pulled away.
“We’re moving too fast” you panted against his lips. 
He nodded but you kissed him again, and he followed your lead. The kiss was hungry and he grabbed your ass, making you moan a little loud against his lips. His hands dropped to your thighs, lifting you up a little and you both dropped on the bed. Felix grabbed your leg, caressing the skin there, gripping your flesh and it made you both pull away at the same time.
“Too fast” you said in unison. 
You both sat up and looked at each other. 
“We respect each other right?“ You asked.
“If you respect me, I respect you”
“Good” you said, and dropped a kiss on his lips. 
A few minutes later, your cab arrived and you walked down the street opening the door of the taxi. You heard someone whistling and you looked up, seeing Felix in his balcony, smirking at you. 
He waved at you and you waved back.
“Ah, you are already falling in love with me” he said, pushing his tongue against the inner side of his cheek.
You smiled from down the street and blew him a kiss. “I’m gonna make you wish you were dead. Poor guy”
And then you were gone, and he was back in his apartment. He turned around and bit his lip, noticing that you (purposely) forgot your purse on his chest of drawers.
“Smart girl” he said, with a nudge of his head.
--------------
Day 2
Felix dropped the purse on his office desk. Hyunjin and Jisung sat studying the bag, their eyes running all over the leather object.
“Have you looked inside of it?” Hyunjin asked.
He shook his head. “No, I waited to be with you so you could give me advice on how to play my next move” Felix said, sitting down on his chair.
Jisung rolled his eyes. “Dude you’re the expert with chicks here”
“I know. But you think she’ll bother if I put my hands inside her purse?” he asked, sipping on his coffee.
Hyunjin tried to grab it but ended up throwing it to the floor and all the things inside spilled on the floor. Jisung smacked the back of his head, making the elder grumble and rub the sore spot. 
“Great job, knobhead” Felix said and the three guys kneeled down to check the things inside your purse. “Wait guys” he said as he looked at a white envelope. “What’s this?” he asked, opening it and he took out two Knicks game tickets. 
His eyes widened and so did his friends’. 
“She’s so hot. I don’t even have to see her face to know she is” Hyunjin said, clenching his eyes.
“That she is. But she’s also a smart little shit. She wanted me to find them” Felix said smugly, getting up and dropping them on his desk.
Jisung’s eyebrows arched. “Felix, you guys met when she had already her purse with her”
Felix didn’t pay him attention and smirked.
---------------
Meanwhile, your office was full of white roses, and you gasped looking at the scene. Ryujin next to you laughed. “Okay, what did you give him? A love spell?”
“What the hell is this?” you asked. 
Karina searched the flowers for a card and found one, and read it out loud. “One hundred times more beautiful than a hundred roses. Where the fuck do you find these guys?”
You laughed and felt your heart flutter. No, wait. This was all planned. You rolled your eyes at yourself. “He works in advertising, of course he had to give me flowers with a catchy pick up line” 
Ryujin laughed. “You think?”
You gasped. “This means he found the Knicks tickets” you said. Karina gasped. “I’m mean, I know. I’ll call him”
Just before you could dial his number, your phone rang. 
“Y/N Y/L/N, Composure offices” you said, knowing it was him.
Felix put the phone on speaker and gave his friends a smug smile. “Hey, hey pretty girl. Received my flowers?”
You sighed. “I did. I got now a really embarrassing display of roses in my office” you said, rolling your eyes with a smirk on your face. 
Felix laughed. “You are welcome, I had a really good time last night” he said charmingly. “I have your bag”
“Oh, I know. I forgot it. Such a klutz” you said, your friends stifling their laughs with their hands. 
Felix sighed. “Well, you must need it back. You know, all the cash, credit cards… Knicks game tickets for tonight” he taunted. His friends gave him a thumbs up.
You fake gasped. “You are a very bad boy, Mr. Lee. You’ve been peeking through my bag! Haven’t they taught you manners?”
He scoffed. “No, absolutely not. My art director and pal Hyunjin, who’s such a dumbass, knocked it over by accident” he said and kicked Hyunjin’s leg without even looking at him.
“Ow! Yeah, I’m a dumbass, sorry” he said, wincing.
“Alright. I’m sorry, though. I’m going with someone else to the game. 
Felix smirked. “Well, not anymore. You forgot your bag by ‘accident’? You obviously wanted me to go to the game. You just didn’t know how to ask. But save the begging, pretty girl, I’ll go with you”
You gasped internally. Cocky, you mouthed to your friends. “You are so full of yourself, tell me. Does that psychobabble work with everybody?” you asked, leaning forward on your desk. 
“You tell me”
“You are so mean” Karina whispered.
You pressed your lips together, pretending to think about it. “Alright, you win, handsome. Meet me at the seventh avenue entrance. Don’t be late”
“You got it. Bye bye”
“Bye” you said and hung up the phone. 
Ryujin and Karina let their laugh out. “He’s dead” Ryujin said.
-------------------------
It was Knicks night and you and Felix were sitting very close to the court. He was in awe. 
You and Felix booed, cheered, yelled and clapped, you were both ecstatic. 
An hour later, the game was about to end, the team calling for a 20-second-time and break began. That meant that the fan cams were on. It was time for the kissing cam and you both laughed at the couples kissing. You gasped when the camera pointed at both you and Felix and laughed, looking at each other. 
You patted your cheek but he quickly grabbed your neck and planted a heavy kiss on your mouth. The crowd erupted in cheers as the kiss grew hotter and you pulled away, with a red face. He sat there licking his lips, proud of your reaction. 
The break time was finished and the game began once again. An idea popped in your head.
“Lixie, babe?” you asked with a pouty face.
He didn’t even look at you. “What-what?” he asked.
“I’m kind of thirsty, Lix” you whined. 
“Yeah okay” he said and continued cheering on the team.
You frowned and sighed. “Felix, can you get me a soda? I’m parched” you whined. 
Felix couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She wants a soda right now? Just when the game’s ending? “I’ll get it right after the game, baby” he said, glancing at you.
“I’m really thirsty” you smiled at him with a little pout and he looked at you. “I’ll get it” with a sigh, you mumbled. 
He made you stop. “No, hang on. I’ll get it” he sighed and ran quickly to the shop, up the stairs. 
Felix ran to the shop and asked for a coke. When he finally got it, he went back to the bleachers. 
“Here” he said, handing it to you and quickly stretching up his neck to see what he missed. 
You took a sip and pretended to gag. “Ugh, Felix. I forgot. I wanted a diet coke. Not regular” you whined. 
Felix looked at you and you noticed he was very irritated. He pursed his lips furiously. “I’ll- Wait a second” he said and got back to the shop, right after, the crowd started counting from 5 to 0.
When the player scored, Felix missed by a few seconds on the shop TV. Everyone cheered and he stood there, watching the TV furiously. Felix kicked an empty soda cup on the floor angrily. He had missed the most important part of the game.
Once they were out of Madison Square Garden, you grabbed onto Felix’s arm and sighed. “What an exciting game, dude” you said with a smile. “I’ve never had so much adrenaline in my body, let me tell you”
Felix sighed. “Yep, pretty good game” he said. 
“Oh, too bad you missed it” you said with a cheeky smile and stopped a cab. He bit his lips and let out a little smile. She’s lucky she’s cute, he thought.
The cab stopped and he opened the door for you. You stood watching him. “So… I’ll see you later, huh?” you asked. 
He nodded. “I hope so” 
You smiled and handed him the soda cup. He kissed you holding your waist and then when he pulled away, he winked at you. You got inside the car and closed the door. 
Felix stood there watching the cab speed off. “Nice” he said, drinking the rest of the soda.
-------------------
Day 3
Felix was in a business meeting when his assistant peeked in and knocked. 
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Park. But Mr. Lee has an important call” she said with a wince.
He nodded. “Leave them a message, Yunjin please” Felix told her.
“It’s Y/N, Mr. Lee” she smiled.
He looked at Mr. Park for permission, and he sighed, nodding. “Make it quick”
Felix grabbed the phone and hit the accept call button. 
“Hello?”
“It’s me! Baby!” You squealed.
“Uh, I’m in a business meeting right now, babe. I can’t call you now. Can I call you later, though?” he offered. 
“It’s just that I miss you so much, baby-boo-boo-boo” you said with a baby voice. Ryujin and Karina were next to you and were holding onto each other, trying not to cackle.
“Well I miss you too” he said, with a smile, trying to ignore the baby voice.
“You busy tonight?” 
“Uh, I’m not. Can we catch a movie or something? You can pick if you want” he said. “The cinema on the fourth is making a retro movie night” he said.
“A movie? My choice?” you squealed.
“Yeah”
“I’m so excited! I’ll call you later then, Lixie-Boo” you said.
“Bye, hon” he said, and hung up. A little smile was playing on his lips. “I think this is working, ladies and gentlemen” he yelled and clapped his hands, making Mr. Park shake his head with a little chuckle. 
------------------
Movie night was on and the one you had picked was the most cringey you could find in retro-movie night: You’ve Got Mail.
You were eating popcorn and while you were enjoying the movie, you needed him to get irritated by your comments. “I always wanted a man like Tom Hanks” you said. “This is like my favorite movie of all time” you lied.
“Yeah me too” he said. You stopped eating. Shit, you thought, bad movie choice. 
Someone shushed you from behind your seats and you kept quiet. 
You bit your lip. “What are you thinking about?” you digged.
Felix forced a smile. “Movie. I’m thinking about the movie” he said, not bothering to look at you. 
You smiled and played with his hair. “Yeah but what are you thinking about?” 
He sighed, slightly enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair but hating the way you were trying to make conversation in the middle of You’ve Got Mail. “The movie” 
You nodded and tried to think about your next move. “Okay, but what? Your mind’s completely blank?” you asked, and he closed his eyes, letting out a ragged breath. “Who is she?” you asked, putting your popcorn down, feeling your forehead purse into a frown.
Felix looked at you. “Who’s who?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
“The girl you’re thinking about” You exclaimed.
“I can’t hear” the guy who shushed you before says.
“I’m not thinking about any girl, Y/N” he said.
You clicked your tongue. “I’ve dealt with enough liars! You can’t watch Meg Ryan and not think about another girl” you said. 
People behind you were trying to shut you up but it didn’t work.
“You wanna know what I’m thinking?” he asked in a whisper. You nodded and he sighed. “I’m thinking about… how damn beautiful you are. And how that beautiful face like yours can believe I’m thinking about another girl, while I’m here with you” he said. “And also, how damn good this movie is. So we’re going to continue watching it” 
You squealed a little bit and hugged him. “Oh, Lix, my baby” you said and kissed his face a couple of times, leaning almost on top of him. “I love sharing this with you”
“Hey! I can’t see and I can't hear” the guy behind you said.
You whirled around in your seat furiously. “If you don’t shut up, my boyfriend here will kick your ass back to where you belong” you said smugly.
“Wait, Y/N” he tried, his eyebrows furrowing in desperation.
“Oh really? Let’s see what you got, pretty boy. Outside. Now” the man said.
Felix wanted the earth to swallow him up.
------------
“Oh, Felix. Poor baby” you said, grabbing his face, sitting on the floor of the cinema entrance. His face was nestled between your breasts and he sighed contently, even if he was in pain.
“Wait. Lix let’s go to a hospital” you said. The bruise on his face was getting pretty bad and purple.
He grabbed your waist. “No, no. Stay. Stay right here”
“Okay” you said.
His face was rubbing your breasts and he let out a content moan. “Yes. Just stay still” he said with a smirk.
You laughed. “You perv” 
He laughed and you grabbed his hair, lifting him from your chest. 
“You’re fine. Come on” you said, getting up, offering your hands. He took them and stood up. 
Felix smiled at you and dropped a long kiss to your lips. 
“Let’s go Rocky” you whispered. 
---------------
Day 4
Felix was planning a tranquil evening, to sit on his couch, watch the Knicks game and relax in his apartment with you. He decided that he was going to cook real nice for the both of you. 
A knock startled his cooking and went to open the door. 
“Come in, it’s open!” he yelled. 
You got inside and smiled at him. “Hello, Lixie-Boo” you said.
He looked at you and his eyes widened. You were wearing a pretty baby blue dress. “Wow, you look gorgeous” he said.
“Thank you, sweet pea” you squealed and dropped a kiss to his cheek. 
You looked at the table and saw the candles, the music in the background making it more nice than it already was.
You gasped. “Oh, honey. This is… too much, I love it” you said.
“Great! Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Go ahead and pour the wine” he said.
“I got you a couple of gifts” you said evilly. You opened the box you brought with you and inside laid a couple of teddy bears and a picture of you with the caption: you’re my, my, my, my lover.
His eyes widened. “Oh… yay” he said. What the hell is all this stuff? Is she quoting Taylor Swift to me?
“Here are two teddy bears. One of them says #1 lover because you are” you said pinching his cheek. “They’re called Lixie and Y/N. Oh! Like us” you said in a baby voice. “And then this picture of me, with Lover from T-Swift lyrics. Do you like it?” you asked.
Felix coughed. “Y-yeah, baby. Love’em” he lied. You kissed him and smiled. 
“You’re so sweet. I’m gonna drop these in your room, wait up” you said.
Felix sighed once you were gone, wiping his face with his hands. 
In his room, you barely contained your laughter but you tried to keep it down. Poor guy. 
The Knicks game was on the TV and was about to start. Felix put the big tray of food and opened the lid. Inside was meat with veggies on it, a very nice decoration, and you hated to say, but you were impressed. Until an idea popped in the back of your head.
You pressed your lips together and let out a fake sob. “Oh, oh this is all my fault, Lix” you whispered, putting a hand over your chest.
He sat down next to you and his eyebrows furrowed. “What happened?” he asked, grabbing your hand.
“I’m– I’m a vegetarian” you sobbed. “It’s just that animal meat makes me sad” you said, fake tears escaping your eyes. The blonde sat frozen in his seat. “It’s-- it’s dead” you said.
He let out an irritated sigh. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t know” he muttered, shaking his head.
“It’s okay… this was beautiful. You’re beautiful” you said, wiping your fake tears and rubbing his cheek affectionately. 
Later, you both found yourselves in a deli, eating veggie bowls, which Felix found disgusting, and making him completely miss the Knicks game. 
You finished the food (who he labeled as cow-food), and he quickly ran to the TV to catch the Knicks game, only to find out it had already finished. He let out a grunt and dropped the remote on the couch. “Fuck” he sighed.
He let himself fall on the couch and you climbed over him, kissing the life out of him. Felix let out a surprised groan and grabbed your ass. You unbuttoned his shirt, a few buttons flying away. You couldn’t admit this to anyone, but you found him exciting. 
He smirked against your lips and let his hands wander under your dress, letting his palms rest on your ass. 
You wanted to up the game. “Does little Lix want to come out and play?” you groaned in his ear. 
His eyes widened, while you kissed down his chest. “Uh, what?”
You lifted your head.
“Little Lix?” he asked, utterly confused. 
“Well, we don’t know if he’s big or little, we’re gonna find out” you squealed and resumed kissing your way down to his crotch. 
He lifted you up gently by your arm. “No, no. Baby. You can’t just… name my dick” he said with a frown.
Your eyebrows raised. “You… what are you saying? Do you want me to call it… big Lix? Cocky enough, baby?” you said in a baby voice. You almost laughed out loud at the look on his face. 
“Uh… I’m-- big Lix is not ready to come out and play” he said, cringing at his own words. 
You sighed with a smile. “Well, in that case. I better get going” you said and dropped a kiss to his lips. “Bye honey-bear”
When you were out the door, you snickered. 
“It’s getting easier by the minute” you sing-songed with an evil laugh getting inside the elevator when a hand stopped the door from closing.
Felix smiled and got inside, grabbing your waist and lifting you up against the wall of the elevator, kissing you. His tongue got inside your mouth and tangled with yours. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked against your lips.
You breathed in and licked your lips. “Yep”
“Well, call me” he pecked your lips and then he was out of the elevator.
You grimaced once you made sure he wasn’t looking. “What the hell? This ain’t getting easier”
You needed to up your game, immediately. 
--------------
Day 5
The next day in Felix’s office, Hyunjin and Jisung were discussing how you were getting weirder by the time the relationship went on.
“Okay, I thought you said Y/N was a goddess after the Knicks game, little Lix” Hyunjin teased, earning a punch on the shoulder from the blonde.
He laughed. “Well, that was the good Y/N, the smart, cool and sexy woman I met. Not this crazy, evil side she’s showing” he said.
“Maybe she’s bipolar--” Jisung started.
“Muffin!” 
The three guys turned around to find you with a dog in hand.
“Y/N baby” he smiled at you, standing up and walking towards you. “We were just talking about you. You are looking absolutely gorgeous” he said.
“Oh, good things I hope, right baby boo?” you cooed. 
He pressed his lips together and nodded. 
“These are my friends! Hyunjin and Jisung!” he said, pointing behind him and they waved at you.
You gasped. “Oh Lixie told me all about you guys”
“Lixie-Boo told all about you too” Hyunjin teased the blonde, who glared at him.
“Great, well look what I just got you” you sing-songed. “I got you a puppy! His name is… guess what?” you said, clapping your hands together.
He shrugged.
“Little Lix!” you squealed.
Jisung and Hyunjin snickered behind him. 
He smiled and tried to think how the fuck he was going to survive six days more if this was going to keep up like this.
When he got home, he put Little Lix in the kitchen and put water and food ready for him. He grabbed his phone and saw his voicemail was full.
You got 17 new messages from Y/N Y/L/N.
“Oh shit” he said. 
He listened to every single one of them and he face-palmed himself. This is getting even harder than I thought , he thought.
He got inside the bathroom to wash his face and opened the cabinet. He froze when he found a lot of feminine products and he closed it, turning around to find two toothbrushes and a lot of girly stuff scattered in the bathroom. Felix grabbed his hair and almost yelled out. 
“Fucking shit”
-----------------
Day 6
“Girls, I’m telling you. He’s not leaving me“ you said, eating from your ice cream pint. 
“Are you being clingy?” Karina asked.
You nodded. “Like a bitch, yeah. I even supplied his bathroom with girly stuff, some of them I don’t even use. Then I gifted him teddy bears and I baby talk to him. I’m whiny and needy? How is he not leaving me?” you asked.
The girls laughed and continued eating ice cream.
“Either way, I gotta think about something before tomorrow” you said.
Ryujin sat up. “Wait, why not tonight?”
“It’s Poker night with his friends” you said. “Boys night”
“You’re giving him boys night?” she asked.
“They do it every week” you shrugged.
“Before… he met… you” she said.
“Ryujin, I love you”
----------------
“Bunny! I’m home!” you said, startling his friends and him.
Felix turned around and his eyebrows furrowed. “Baby, what are you doing here?” he asked, sitting up and putting the blunt he was smoking, in a plate.
“I just… I figured I could stop by and kiss you a little bit, huh? Your friends don’t mind if I steal you for about… an hour or so?” you asked.
He laughed nervously. “Honey, I told you… boys night” he said.
You pretended to be offended. “You… don’t want to see me? Do you- Oh! You think I’m crazy!” you said.
Felix’s eyes widened. “I- No! I don’t think you’re crazy, baby. I just want a boys night with--” 
“Oh, I’m sure it was an excuse to hook up with other girls, and oh! I’m sure there’s one hidden here, probably in your bathroom” you fake cried. “I’m out of here, Felix” you said and walked out the door.
He followed you with Little Lix barking behind him. 
“Hey, hey, hey. What was all that?” he asked, making you turn around.
You pressed the elevator button and sighed. “What?”
“You acting like a freaking maniac” he said. 
You gasped and the elevator dinged. “Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t be with someone who thinks I’m mental. Bye, Felix” you said and the elevator doors closed but he pressed the button so they opened them again.
”No wait. Where’s the fun, cool, beautiful and sexy Y/N I knew? Huh?” Felix asked. “The one who wanted to be a serious journalist? You’re acting insane, like one second you’re up then you’re down!” he said.
You pursed your lips. “So I guess we’re over” you shrugged your shoulders with a glare.
“Fine!”
“Fine” you said and the elevator door closed. You smiled in victory and then it quickly fell. What the hell is happening? 
Back in Felix’s apartment, Jisung and Hyunjin almost tackled him. “You’re going back, apologize and get back together with her” Jisung said. “Five more days, man. And that’s it” he said.
“No, wait. Hey. You saw how she acted back there” he said.
“Yes, but if you really want the pitch, then you’re going back to her, apologize and be her little bitch for five. More. days” Hyunjin stated.
“Do you want Son and Park Chaeyoung to be comfortable in their new office? The one that should be ours?” Hyunjin digged.
“No, of course not!” Felix said. “But what do I do? What do I tell her!?”
“Couples therapy! Literally anything” Jisung said.
“Couples therapy?” Felix asked.
This was getting way out of hand. 
“Yes, now go!” Hyunjin patted his back and pushed him. 
He sprinted off running to the stairs, jumping from three to three. He got to the door just in time when you got out of the building. 
“Y/N! Y/N! Wait, baby boo” he said, cringing at his choice of words. “Forgive me, please. I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry” he said, kneeling on the ground.
You couldn’t believe your eyes. What the hell was this guy’s problem and why the hell why was he not running away from her?
“Can you give me another chance?” he asked, puppy eyes on. 
“Haven’t you had enough?” you asked ironically, but you really meant it this time. 
“I’m willing to do anything, Y/N. Please” he said, opening his arms.
You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, making him stand up, kind of embarrassed that anyone walking down the street could see him like that. 
“Like, what do you think about… couples therapy?” he asked. 
A light bulb turned on in your brain. Couples therapy, huh?
“Oh, Felix. I know a therapist who’ll do wonders with you. When shall we start?” you said, intrigued about his request. 
He nodded. “Tomorrow. Whenever you want” he said, desperately. “Whatever it takes”
“A kiss?” you pouted. 
“Thank you, sweetheart” he said and kissed you almost making you tumble at how hard he kissed you. You had to admit, he was one hell of a kisser. “Thank you for understanding”
“Yeah, no problem, baby boo. But you’re still on probation” you said and walked away. “What the fuck did I get myself into?” you whispered to yourself.
---------------
Day 7
“If we’re really doing this, you’ll have to open up, Felix. You hear me?” you whined when you reached the ‘therapist’ apartment. 
“Yeah, of course” 
You knocked on the door and Karina appeared, wearing a white pajama pants and a shirt, with big ass glasses and a bun. “Y/N Y/L/N, and Felix Lee. Come in” she said with a formal voice.
Your eyebrows wiggled and tried not to laugh. You grabbed Felix’s hand and sat him down on the couch. 
“So, before we start. I wanted to ask you how you were gonna pay for this session?” she asked.
You patted Felix’s back. “Sweetie?”
“Uh, yeah. How much is it?” he asked, grabbing his wallet from his jean pocket.
“Three hundred dollars the hour” she said calmly. 
His eyes almost bulged out of his school when he heard the price that fell from Karina’s lips. Felix cleared his throat and reached for his wallet. Whatever it takes, then the pitch is yours. He handed Karina the bills and she cleared her throat.
“So, tell me, you guys. How long have you been seeing each other?” she asked.
“Seven days” you replied with a smile.
“Isn’t it too soon to be seeing a therapist?” Felix asked calmly.
You smiled at him. “Well, it isn’t a lifetime but it is--”
“It’s like a week” he said.
You fake gasped and looked at Karina. “Do you hear that tone? How can we not need a therapist when you’re snapping at me like that every goddamn second!” you said rather loudly.
Karina nodded. “How are things between you… I mean… sexually” she digged.
You laughed a little. “Oh, about that… he has a little problem” you said, winking at Karina. “If you know what I mean”
He shook his head. “No, Y/N. Wait. We haven’t had sex yet” he said. “And I don’t have a problem”
“Yes you do”
“No, no I don’t” 
“Okay, okay. Look, the one night that we even thought about having sex you called my dick little Lix, or- or big Lix” he said, turning completely to face you. “Without even seeing it!”
“I thought it was beautiful” you said, close to fake crying.
“I see, Felix” Karina said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “When was it that you first realized you were attracted to other men?”
You had to contain your laugh at this. “Oh, it… that’s serious” you agreed.
“What? No! I love women, why-- okay. No, that it’s clearly not what happened” Felix stammered irritatedly. 
“I’m hearing a lot of anger that’s been swirling inside of you for a long time, Felix” Karina said, folding her hands together. 
You gasped. “Like a rage-aholic”
“No, I’m not a rage-aholic” he shouted.
“Take a deep breath, sweetie” you said, putting your hand on his arm.
“I gotta ask you this one question” Karina said. “Are you ashamed of Y/N?”
He was taken aback by the sudden question. 
“Of course he is” you said.
“No, I’m not ashamed of you, Y/N” he said, putting a hand on your back. 
Karina cleared her throat. “Then why don’t you… take her to meet your family, for example?” she suggested. You wanted to kill her.
Felix nodded. “Yeah, let’s go do that. You can meet my whole family, let’s go to Staten Island, you can meet them” he smiled. 
“Would you like to go to Staten Island?” Karina asked you.
No! Of course not!  
“Yes” 
-----------------
Day 8
He parked his bike in the driveway of his family house and you were greeted by his mother once you got inside of the house. 
“Oh hello, Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you!” her mother appeared with a baby in her arms. 
“ Bullshit! ” you heard from the patio.
“My dad and uncles play cards every hour of the day” Felix laughed.
“ Bullshit! ” you heard again.
“You are as pretty as Felix described you on the phone the other--”
“Mom!” Felix whined.
You laughed and shook her hand. “Well, the pleasure is mine, Ms. Lee” you said.
“ Bullshit! ”
“Sweetie!” she scolded over her shoulder. “Excuse me honey, I gotta make my husband shut up for a little bit, here” she said and handed Felix the baby he was holding, who you assumed was his cousin. 
Felix grabbed him happily and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the sight of him holding a baby. 
“I’m gonna get him cleaned up, you go out back” he said and dropped a kiss to your lips and then he was gone. 
You took a deep breath and went out to the patio, finding who you assumed was his dad and his uncles. His mother saw you and dropped the cards on the table. “Everyone! Guys, everybody meet Y/N, our Felix’s girl!” she squealed.
His dad smiled and shook your hand. “Well, Felix described you as ‘beautiful’ but his words weren’t enough” he complimented you. 
You blushed a little and giggled. “Well thank you, Mr. Lee”
“No worries, honey” Mr. Lee winked. 
After they introduced you to the whole family, they gave you a couple of cards to play with them. 
“The game is called ‘Bullshit’ as you may have heard. And we’re just in the lightning round, sweetie, you came just in time” Mr. Lee said.
Felix suddenly came in and smiled. “Well look at this. I’m gonna beat everyone’s asses, including yours baby” he winked at you, sitting down and grabbing himself some cards. 
“I don’t really know how to play”
“Well, here’s the trick. You have to get rid of all the cards in your hand” His dad said.
You nodded and looked at your cards.
“Alright I’m gonna throw and say I have two aces. What do you say?” his dad asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at your cards in hand, noticing you had three aces, which meant he could only have one. “I say bullshit”
“What did you say?” he smiled.
“I say… bullshit!” you said and everyone around you cheered. 
After a couple of rounds where everyone except Felix was helping you out to win just to make him lose, you found yourself having fun, more than you had expected and more than the fun you’ve got this couple of months. The feeling was strange.
“Okay, I’ve got two kings”
You looked around and his family shook their heads. Felix caught them cheating and gasped.
“You all are cheating!” he said, making all of you laugh. “Baby! That’s treason!” he laughed.
You just laughed at him and showed him your cards. “Yep. But I won!”
“And that makes him have the lowest score out of all of us in Bullshit thanks to you, for the first time ever! I say we expect you to come here sooner” his mom said, standing up and drawing his score on a chalkboard. 
You laughed. “Why? Were all his other girlfriends Bullshit losers?” you asked, sipping on your drink.
“What other girlfriends? He’s the first girl he’s ever brought home” her mom said and hugged you. 
First girl he’s ever brought home? You felt special. You hated to admit it, but it was true. 
“Don’t you break his heart” she whispered with a little smile and walked away.
It’s a little too late for that now.
-----------------
After the game, Felix offered to take you for a ride to meet the island on his bike. You accepted, and the blonde took you everywhere. For ice cream, for lunch, to walk in the park, down the port, everywhere. He even taught you how to ride his bike. You couldn’t help it but you felt the butterflies kicking your stomach everytime he smiled or looked at you. And he felt the same. He felt at peace that the fighting and craziness was over for good.
At a certain hour, it started to rain, soaking you from head to toe. You arrived at his home, you rode the bike while he was behind you.
He got you inside of the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.
“Alright madam, let’s have a shower, what do you say?“ he asked and turned on the hot water.
You nodded and sat on the sink, thinking about why the hell did you accept to do this to this guy. He was perfect and so good with you. If you ever told him the truth, he’d hate you, and you’d lose him. 
“You can shower first if you want” he said, drying his hand with a towel.
You bit your lip and sighed. 
“Is everything all right?” he asked, putting his hands on your legs, his eyes finding yours. 
You smiled at him, caressing his cheek. “It’s more than okay” you said in a low voice. 
He kissed your palm and pinched your leg a little. “Then tell me what’s wrong. You don’t seem okay”
You let out a breath. “I think… when your mother hugged me today, like… she really hugged me” you said, your eyes getting teary. “For winning a game at Bullshit. Like I was a part of the family” you said, a tear flowing down your cheek. 
Felix’s eyebrows furrowed and he put a hand on your cheek. “But that’s a good thing, baby. Smile for me” he said with a little grin, poking your cheek with his pointer finger.
You smiled for him and his grew bigger. Your noses were almost touching and it confirmed for the both of you. Both bets were a huge mistake.
He brought your head closer to his and kissed your lips. You pulled away and searched for something in his eyes, something that would give you a red flag. You found just a glint and lust in his eyes. You kissed him again, opening your mouth for his tongue to come inside your mouth and sighed at the feeling. 
Felix pulled away and you lifted your hands up, so that he could take your shirt off. He complied and saw that you weren’t wearing a bra. His eyes darkened and you hopped off the counter to take his shirt too.
You dropped it to the ground and then went to unbuckle his jeans while he did the same to yours. He pushed your panties to the ground and he pushed his underwear, too.
Felix grabbed your thighs, hoisting you up, making your legs wrap around his torso and kissed you again. He got inside the shower and pressed you against the cold tiles. His mouth on yours felt heavenly, and with every brush of his tonguey you got more and more wetter by the second. 
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he whispered against your neck. He kissed a couple of hickeys on it and then came back to your mouth.
If anyone walked past the bathroom, they would’ve heard the breathy moans the two of you emitted and the slapping of skin on skin sound. Once you came and he did on your stomach, you stayed staring at each other. Guilt was in his eyes, thinking that you, a beautiful woman he had managed to fall in love with, and probably she did as well, was part of a stupid bet to get a stupid pitch. 
You dropped your forehead on his and sighed with a smile. “That was amazing, Lix. Little Lix down there wasn't so little, huh?” you joked, making him laugh out loud. 
“Well, what can I say? I’m full of surprises”  he said.
You got down and you washed each other. As his arms came around you from behind and you couldn’t help but feel like shit. 
If only he knew. 
In the meantime, Felix rested his chin on your shoulder, leaving a little peck on your skin. He closed his eyes as soon as his lips touched you, feeling the guilt and regret wash over him. 
He didn’t know how he was going to tell you, but there was one thing he knew it was certain: he didn’t deserve you. 
At least, that’s what he thought. 
------------------
Day 9
The ferry arrived at Manhattan and he drove his bike back to your home. He got down from the bike and walked you to the building entrance.  
“Well, this is home” you said, dropping his hand. 
He nodded and smiled at you. “Uh, Y/N? I wanted to ask you back at Staten but uh… my boss is throwing this party for the diamond account I was telling you about and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? You know… as my date?” Felix asked, clearly nervous. “As my girlfriend” he stated. 
You smiled at him and put your hand on his cheek. “Are you calling me your girlfriend?” 
“Yeah, I am” he said, sure of himself.
You pressed your lips together. “Tomorrow will be the tenth day of seeing each other.”
“I know” he said with a sigh. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow huh?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Should I dress fancy?” you asked.
 “As fancy as you want… but still fancy” he said.
You nodded. “Perfect” you pressed a kiss to his lips and when you pulled away, you hugged him. He felt so good. You didn’t want to let him go just yet, or tell him what you were doing, or him to find out via the magazine. 
As you pulled away, he kissed your head and let you go inside.
“Bye” you blew him a kiss.
“Bye” 
---------------
Day 10 - final day-
You barged inside Seulgi’s office with a very worried face on you. You let out a breath and sat down on the couch.
“Seulgi? I can’t- I can’t write this article” you stated.
Her eyebrows furrowed and sat down on her chair. “What? Why not? Is your computer broken or something? Figure it out”
“No, it’s not that” you said. “I just… I’ve got to know this guy. He’s amazing. He doesn't deserve this, I really like him, Seulgi. Please” you pleaded.
“Okay. Who’s the boss here?”
“You” you sighed. 
“Then you write what I tell you to write. And that means the article” she said strictly, not even bothering to look at you while she was paging down a magazine. “You’ll do the article, because you are a professional. That’s what professionals do”
“Yes I am” you whispered. 
“Great. Now go. I want the article in less than 48 hours”
-----------------
The night fell and Felix arrived at your house. He was wearing a fancy tux, but he managed to keep it a little less formal. He took a deep breath and cracked his neck. Felix grabbed his phone and sent you a text.
Lix: I’m here xx
He blushed at the thought of you on a fancy dress. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket.
You: be right down. Wait up xx
His heart picked up speed when he heard the door of your building opening. You stood there with a yellow fancy dress with an open cut back. You did a little twirled and took a second to admire him. He was so beautiful, it hurt your eyes. 
The chauffeur from his car smiled at the interaction.
“Hey” you said timidly.
He just stared, he couldn’t believe you were his. 
“Wow, you are so beautiful” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. 
You blushed and ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re looking good too, sparky” you said putting your arm around his and getting inside the car.
Once you reached the museum, you could only gawk at how much diamonds were used for this party. It almost hurt your eyes. 
“Wow, okay. This wasn’t what I expected at all” you said, looking up only to find a very big, sparkly chandelier. 
Felix nodded, chuckling at your face. “You should come more often to these things with me”
You gasped and elbowed him. “What? So you can see me with a fancy dress more often?”
He shrugged. “Maybe” he teased, making you laugh.
Hyunjin and Jisung appeared wearing very formal suits and they waved at you. “Hey guys” you said.
“Oh, great. Stay with them, I’ll go grab us some champagne” he said, kissing your cheek.
You smiled at him and watched him leave while Jisung told an incredibly boring story of how he managed to get a date.
“Uh, guys. I’ll go sit by the table, there are some snacks there. If you’ll excuse me” you said, and excused yourself, really not wanting to deal with those noisy boys. 
Hyunjin and Jisung stood watching you when they felt hands on their shoulders. The Chaeyoung’s were staring at them with an evil grin on them. 
“News for you guys” Son Chaeyoung said.
They looked at each other. “We don’t want to deal with you snakes today” Jisung said. 
Park Chaeyoung scoffed. “I just wanted to let you guys know that we know that Felix cheated” she said.
Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean cheated?” he asked in a monotone voice. 
“We know he told this girl about the bet even before they started dating” Park Chaeyoung said. 
Jisung and Hyunjin looked at each other, wide-eyed. 
“We’ll go tell Mr. Park if you don’t hurry up” Son Chaeyoung said, and then, they were gone.
“Shit, we gotta do something” Jisung said.
They ran to the table you were sitting and sat down next to you, startling you mid-eating a snack. You furrowed your eyebrows at their state.
“Hey, Y/N. We know you know about the bet. Okay? And we need you to play dumb when Mr. Park asks you if you fell in love with Felix” Hyunjin said.
Your stomach dropped. A bet? What bet? You were about to ask until it dawned in you. This was all a bet. Felix made a bet, in which he had to make you fall in love with him (in which he succeeded).
“A bet?” you asked in a small voice.
Jisung nodded. “Yeah, the bet… you know, he’d get the pitch if you fell in love with him” he said.
You played dumb. “Of course” you faked a smile. Internally you were just trying to keep the tears to yourself.
Meanwhile…
Felix was heading to their table when Kang Seulgi intercepted him.
“Hello Felix. What a pleasure it is to see you” she said with a smile.
He nodded and smiled at the elderly woman. “Yeah, nice to see you too. I gotta head back to my table, there’s this beautiful woman waiting for me-- right there” he said with a smug grin and pointed at you.
Seulgi perked up and gasped. “Y/N? Oh she’s my How-To girl in Composure” she said.
“Your How-To girl?” he asked confusedly.
“Yes. Right now she’s working on an article called How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days” she said and his smile visibly dropped. You were just using him for… an article? Her laugh made him come back from his thoughts. “This poor guy she’s been pretending to date-- wait, she’s actually dating this guy trying to scare him off by making mistakes girls do when--” when she saw the face that Felix and she stopped talking, realizing he was the guy you were dating. “Oh… oh, I’m sorry” she whispered and excused herself. 
He pressed his lips together and downed his champagne glass. He saw you getting up from your chair, grabbed your purse and headed for the exit. Felix followed you, steam flying out of his ears.
When you reached the street you heard his shouting. “No, no, no. Y/N Y/L/N get back here” he said. 
You stopped in your tracks and looked at him. 
“You used me! Just to get a stupid fucking pitch! You played with my feelings, you made me believe you actually care about me” you yelled at him. 
Your words would’ve hurt him if he wasn’t angry enough about the article thing. 
“I used you? You drove me insane for that article from your stupid magazine, okay?” he said angrily. 
“You told people you could make me fall in love with you, like I’m just some random girl that needed saving, you backstabbing jerk” you said, hitting him with your purse. 
Felix stood, pressing his lips together, figuring out what to say next. “So that was what I was, huh? A stupid guinea pig you could use for your experiments?” 
“Yeah and I was just some girl you picked up from a bar because you feel bad for her, sitting all alone with a drink in her hands” you said more calmly.
He chuckled ironically. “Well, you did it. Good job. You wanted to see if you could lose a guy in 10 days, congratulations. You just lost him” he said, and turned away from you.
“No, I didn’t, Felix”
He turned back to face you.
“Because you can’t lose what you never had” you cried out. 
He watched as you turned away and called a cab. His heart was hurting so much. Felix took a shaky breath in and headed back to the party. 
---------------
Day 11
“Well, this wasn't what I was expecting” Seulgi said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But it’s better” she said gladly. 
You chuckled and smiled at her. “I’m glad you like it”
“Now this is my time to free you from my leash. You can write whatever you want now” she said, putting your recently printed article in a folder. 
Your eyebrows perked up at her saying. “That means I can write like… about politics, economics, religion, or--”
“No, Y/N. Whatever you want means what Composure is about, shoes, dramas, what’s new in Oscar de La Renta’s new dresses, you get what I mean” Seulgi said, flicking her wrist at you. 
This wasn’t what you expected. Writing an article about a guy you did end up falling in love with wasn’t even worth it. In the end, Kang Seulgi had tricked you into making you write whatever she wanted. 
You nodded and sighed. “Thank you for the opportunity, Seulgi” you said slowly. She smiled at you. “And thank you for making it easier for me to turn it down” you said, heading for the door. “My resignation letter will be arriving at your mail very soon” you said and then you were out of the door, leaving Seulgi shocked to her very core. 
-------------------
Felix was in his office, Little Lix in his arms and he let out a sigh, looking at the Knicks game he did not attend. The tickets were laying on his desk, he had planned to give them to you after the party but that did not end up well. 
A knock on his door startled him. “Hey, my man. I’ve got something for you” Hyunjin said, sitting down on a chair.
He saw it was a Composure magazine and he let out a sigh.
“I’m not gonna read that”
“No, you should” he said. Felix just shook his head and dropped Little Lix on the floor. “Okay. You win. I’ll read it to you” Hyunjin said and Felix was about to protest but he held his hands up. “ I’ve lost a guy. And I don’t know why. What went wrong? When I started writing this month’s column, I wanted to commit those certain silly dating mistakes we all commit at some time. But what I didn’t realize was that I was making the biggest mistake of my life ” he said, he lifted his eyes to watch the blonde, who was looking at the floor, with glassy eyes. “Here, read it. Trust me” he said, dropping the magazine on his desk and then he was out of his office.
He sighed and grabbed it, turning to the page where your article was. He started reading and he noticed some important lines: “ I lost the only guy I’ve ever fallen for ”; “ Best 10 days of my life ”, and one that he wasn’t expecting at all. “ This is my last article for Composure ”
His eyebrows furrowed and an idea popped in his head.
A few minutes later, he was running down Composure’s office asking everyone where the hell was your office located. He won a few glares from most of the girls but right now, he didn’t give a fuck.
He found it, and noticed it was empty. Fucking shit, Felix internally cursed. He saw a woman standing right next to her office. 
“Excuse me, Ma’m” he said.
Ryujin turned around abruptly. “Holy crap. You’re Felix”
“I know. Tell me where’s Y/N” he said urgently.
“She quit” Karina appeared from behind him. 
He turned around and noticed a familiarity with the girl.
“She’s got an interview right now, in Washington” Ryujin said.
“When?”
“Like, right now. She’s leaving right now” Ryujin said, checking her watch.
He turned to leave but not before he turned to face Karina. “You’re not a therapist aren’t you?”
She looked confused until she burst out laughing. “No, I’m not”
“Good job. You owe me 300 dollars”
----------------
You leaned your head on the taxi window, letting out a sigh, thinking about the events that took place that week. You knew that Composure wasn’t the best option for you since Seulgi had always done the same shit over and over again, making you think you could write about something more interesting than fashion and then taking your emotion with her. You rubbed your forehead and allowed yourself to think about Felix. There wasn’t a time that you didn’t regret what happened, but looking at the other side, he made a bet too. 
Your thoughts were interrupted when you reached the Brooklyn bridge and saw someone riding a very familiar bike, wearing a very familiar helmet. Oh shit, that’s Felix. 
“Sir, please pull over” Felix yelled.
You gasped at the scene. “What-- Felix? What are you doing?” you yelled. “Sir, pull over please?”
“Are you crazy, woman? We’re in the middle of the bridge” the chauffeur said.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not feeling well, I think I’m about to puke”
“Alright, you win” he grumbled.
You got out of the car and saw him pulling the helmet over his head. “What the fuck is this Felix?” you yelled at him.
He sighed and handed you the magazine. 
“Is it true?” he asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed. 
“Dammit, Y/N, what you wrote in the magazine. Or were you just trying to sell a magazine?”
“I meant every word, Felix” you said, your eyes getting teary. “But that doesn’t change anything, does it?”
“It does, and you’re running away” he said.
“I’m not!” You yelled out in a high-pitched voice.
“Yes, you are. To Washington” he said.
You rolled your eyes, pinching your eyebrows. “Yes, but it’s an interview. Besides, what do you care?”
Felix was taken aback by it. “What do I care? I fucking love you Y/N. But I need to be sure it’s true”
“I already told you. It’s true and I… I love you too, Felix. But--” you said-
“But what?” he asked, stepping closer to you.
“I can’t write here. I applied for a job where I know I can write about whatever the fuck I want without a bitch that tells me I need to write what it’s accord to my gender” you said, and turned away to get back to the taxi.
“Bullshit”
You stopped in your tracks. “Excuse me?”
“Bullshit. You heard me” he said, stepping closer to you. 
You couldn’t move. He reached until your noses were practically touching. He handed a couple of bills to the taxi driver and told him to send your bags back to your apartment. 
“You’re having alternate transportation from now on” he said. 
You sighed and looked at him, your eyes watery. 
“Really? Are you serious?” you asked with a broken chuckle.
“You bet I am” he said and put his hands on your face, bringing you to a passionate kiss. You melted on it and put your arms around his neck, sighing into it. You felt complete. Finally.  “I love you, so much” he said against your lips, letting his nose rub against yours.
“I love you, I love you, I love you” you mumbled, each ‘i love you’ with a kiss. 
“Okay, so are you two gonna let me drive back to the ladies apartment or what?” the taxi driver grumbled, making you two laugh.
You couldn't believe how perfect this moment was. How it all started with a bet and an article that was meant for you two to find each other. 
Fin.
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i hope you liked it :) there are more Felix's fics coming in, i've been pretty busy
648 notes · View notes
deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago
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He's A Killer
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Summary: She’s known among her family and friends for being single, and everyone worries about her. Determined to prove them wrong, she finally makes her first move, only to discover that the person she likes is dangerous.
The second part : He's The Sweetest
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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The emergency room of St. Grace Medical Center buzzes with activity. Doctors and nurses move swiftly, handling patients with precision. Voices blur together in the chaos, and the sharp scent of antiseptic fills the air.
You're inside the medical storage room, scanning shelves for the supplies the doctor requested: syringes, tubes, and medication vials. Besides, you is Clara, your co-worker and friend, busy sorting through trays.
"I told you I had that family dinner, right?" you say, picking up a pack of syringes.
"Yeah, how was it?" Clara asks, not looking up from the tray she's organizing.
“Dreadful. Dreadful. Dreadful,” you reply, shaking your head in exasperation.
Clara glances at you, a smirk forming. "Wow, three times? That bad, huh?"
The memory flashes through your mind: Sunday, family dinner. You sit across from your aunts, who seem more interested in your love life than the meal.
"Your mom’s worried about you, you know," one of your aunts says between bites. "She didn't tell you because she's afraid of hurting your feelings," another aunt adds. "You’re already over 30; the clock is ticking." "My friend’s son works at the oil company. I could get his contact if you want. He’s a good catch."
Back in the storage room, Clara's voice breaks through your thoughts. "Well, you probably won’t like this, but your aunt’s kinda right. I mean, bestie, I’m only saying this because I care about you."
You hum, trying to keep your focus on entering patient data into the system. Clara means well, but the topic is starting to get old.
“Honey, you’re a great friend and an amazing co-worker. Everyone here relies on you because you’re so reliable. You know why?” Clara’s voice softens as she leans in. “Because you’re single. You don’t have someone waiting for you, or someone to hang out with on Saturdays and Sundays.”
You freeze for a moment, glancing up at her with raised eyebrows.
“Please, go out and talk to someone," she continues. "You've been single for way too long. You deserve some love, girl. It’s not like you need to get married right away.”
Clara shudders, as if the thought gives her chills. “No, not at all! Just, you know, make friends first?” She winks playfully before gathering a tray of supplies and heading out to assist the doctor.
Alone in the storage room, you sigh, leaning against the counter for a moment. Clara means well, but every time someone offers to introduce you to someone, it irks you. You know you’ve been single for a long time—your whole life, really—but it’s not that you don’t want a relationship.
It’s complicated.
You've seen too many relationships fall apart. Your parents, your aunts, your cousins—all their stories weigh on you. The cheating, the abuse, the constant reminders from your cousins: “Don’t get married.” It’s no wonder you’re hesitant.
But what stings the most is finding out your father, who you always thought was a devoted husband, had cheated on your mom. That betrayal shaped your fears. You don’t want to end up like her—trapped in a painful, one-sided marriage.
Part of you is scared of commitment, scared of getting hurt. But another part of you craves it—a real connection. The irony of it all is that the same aunts pushing you to settle down are stuck in abusive marriages themselves. It’s almost comedic, in a sad, twisted way.
You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside as you gather the last of the supplies.
🐼🐼🐼🐼🐼
Working at ER felt like living in a whirlwind. You rarely went home, often staying for almost 24 hours at a time. The chaos of patients coming in with life-threatening injuries, doctors shouting orders, and the constant rush to save lives left you drained but fulfilled. When you finally had a day off, there was only one thing you looked forward to—visiting the zoo to see your favorite animal: the panda. 🐼
You’ve always had a soft spot for pandas. Something about their calm, slow movements and gentle nature soothed you. The baby panda, in particular, had become your little escape. Watching it tumble around, clumsily explore, or nibble on bamboo always brought you a sense of peace. You had its appearances memorized on your schedule since it wasn’t allowed out every day.
Today was one of those rare days off, and you made your way to the zoo, excited to see the baby panda. But when you arrived, the mood shifted. A zoo employee stood in front of the panda enclosure, addressing the crowd of disappointed families.
“Sorry folks, the panda viewing has been rescheduled. We have made an announcement on our social media last week—we worked on it all night, without sleep.”
You rolled your eyes at the comment. Without sleep? Try handling an ER at peak hours. Annoyed but resigned, you sighed and checked the next available viewing time. As the crowd started dispersing, one person caught your attention.
A tall man stood at the panda window, his broad shoulders slumped in disappointment. He sighed deeply before turning around. That’s when your eyes met. It wasn’t intentional, but the sudden connection caught you off guard. Quickly, you bowed your head and hurried away, feeling your cheeks warm from the brief moment.
The next day, you returned to the zoo, and this time, the baby panda was out. You joined the crowd, eager to see your favorite animal. The baby panda was as adorable as ever, tumbling clumsily around its habitat. You found yourself smiling, the sight of it immediately calming your busy mind. But as you glanced around, you saw him again—the tall man from yesterday. He was also watching the panda, just as captivated as the rest of the crowd.
The panda display ended too soon, and just as you were about to leave, the sky opened up and rain started pouring. The panda enclosure was far from the main entrance, and there was no shelter nearby. Luckily, you always carried an umbrella. As you received a message from the hospital calling you in for an emergency, you saw other visitors quickly opening their umbrellas and leaving one by one.
Soon, it was just you and the tall man left in the rain.
You noticed him glancing at his watch, pacing back and forth like he was debating whether to make a run for it. His indecision made you smile. He clearly wasn’t prepared for the weather. Without thinking much of it, you walked up to him, holding out your umbrella.
“Ehm,” you said, voice slightly raised over the sound of the rain. “Want to walk to the gate together?”
His eyes flicked to the umbrella in your hand before he gave you a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, stepping under it with you.
The walk was quiet, the sound of the rain drumming on the umbrella louder than any conversation you might have had. It should have felt awkward—after all, you were strangers—but the rain filled the silence. He stayed close to your side, even leaning a little toward you to make sure you weren’t getting wet. You noticed his left side was already damp, but he didn’t seem to care. Is he a gentleman? you wondered as you both continued walking.
When you finally reached the entrance, you closed your umbrella. The man pointed toward the parking lot. “My car’s pretty far,” he said, glancing toward the rain-soaked lot.
“I’ve got to go too,” you replied, showing him your phone. “I booked a car from the app. It should be here soon.”
He nodded, still standing close. You hesitated for a moment, then held out the umbrella to him. “Here. Take this. It’s better than running through the rain.”
He blinked in surprise, looking down at the umbrella. “How do I return this to you?”
You smiled, shrugging lightly. “It’s alright. I have more. But… if you really want to return it, you can find me at the hospital E.R. St. Grace Medical Center.”
His lips curled into a small smile, a flash of warmth in his eyes. “Alright then, the hospital. I’ll remember that.”
Before he could say anything more, your car pulled up. You gave him one last smile, ducking into the back seat, and as you drove off, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d see him again.
🐼🐼🐼🐼
The night shift at St. Grace Medical Center had just begun, but unlike most nights, the ER was unusually quiet. A handful of patients sat in the waiting area, the usual chaos replaced by a lull. The soft beeping of monitors filled the air, interrupted occasionally by the rustle of paperwork or a distant cough.
Clara, your ever-observant co-worker, stood beside you, arms crossed, her brow raised in curiosity. "You look different tonight. What’s going on?" She tilted her head, smirking slightly.
You paused, your lips twitching into a small smile. "Well… I met this guy when I went to see my favorite panda."
Clara’s smirk grew wide. “Ah, the fluffy black and white mammals. So, what makes this guy more special than your favorite animal?”
You were about to answer when a loud commotion broke out near the entrance. A drunk patient stumbled through the doors, yelling incoherently, bumping into chairs, and causing a scene.
“Perfect timing,” you muttered under your breath.
Clara groaned. "Here we go."
You both rushed over to try and calm him down. He was clearly in no state to be reasoned with, slurring his words and swaying dangerously as he tried to grab hold of another patient’s wheelchair.
“Sir, you need to sit down,” you said, holding up your hands in a calming gesture.
The man blinked at you, confused, then suddenly lunged forward, trying to grab your arm. Panic surged through you, but before he could make contact, a firm hand caught the drunk man's wrist.
"That's enough," a deep voice said from behind you.
You turned around, startled to see him—the man from the zoo. The one who borrowed your umbrella. He stood tall, his grip firm but not aggressive as he guided the drunk man back into a chair. The drunk patient, surprised by the sudden interference, mumbled something incoherent but didn’t resist.
Relief washed over you, and you let out a shaky breath. “Thanks. That could’ve gotten ugly.”
He gave you a soft smile. “It’s quiet here,” he said casually.
You quickly shook your head, eyes widening. “Don’t say that! You’ll jinx it.”
He chuckled at your reaction, then glanced down at your name tag. “Y/N, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”
You blinked, feeling the warmth of his smile seep into you. "Nice to meet you too… Bucky."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar item—your umbrella. “Sorry I’m late returning this. Thanks again for letting me borrow it.”
You grinned, feeling a bit of your usual humor return. “Hey, as panda lovers, we have to help each other out, right?”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to dig a hole and hide in it. Did I really just say that?
To your surprise, Bucky laughed—a genuine, warm sound. “You’re right. We do.” Then, as if to return the favor for your kindness, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “Actually, I have something for you.”
You furrowed your brows, confused, until you unfolded the paper. Your eyes widened in disbelief—it was a VIP ticket for a face-to-face panda experience, something you had only dreamed about.
“What? How did you get this?” you asked, astonished.
Bucky smiled, a little mischievously. “I’ve got some connections.”
Before you could fully process what had just happened, Bucky waved and left the hospital. As soon as he was out of sight, Clara whistled softly behind you.
“Well, well, well,” she teased, her tone dripping with amusement. “Is someone making panda dates now?”
You rolled your eyes, though a blush crept up your cheeks. "It’s not like that, Clara."
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, her eyes twinkling. “I’m sure it’s all innocent.”
The next day, you found yourself back at the zoo, clutching your VIP ticket nervously. And there he was again—Bucky, standing near the entrance, waiting for you.
“Hey,” he greeted you with that same easy smile.
“Hey,” you replied, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest. The two of you walked together into the building, and soon, the moment you'd been waiting for arrived: you were face to face with the baby panda.
Both of you were silent as the tiny creature waddled toward you. The panda was as adorable as you had imagined, its soft fur and curious little eyes making your heart melt. Bucky stood next to you, just as captivated. When the panda let out a small squeak, you both exchanged a glance, wide-eyed, before grinning like kids.
As you held the baby panda for a brief moment, you felt all the exhaustion from your long shifts melt away. It was like a small pocket of happiness you hadn’t realized you needed. You could hear Bucky chuckling softly beside you, clearly sharing the same sentiment.
“Why pandas?” he asked softly after a while, turning to look at you.
You shrugged, smiling. “They’re just… calming. Whenever I’m tired from the hospital or life, looking at them helps. It’s like all the stress just melts away.”
Bucky nodded thoughtfully, his gaze still on the baby panda. “I get it. My job is… well, it’s tiring. Dangerous too. But seeing animals like this, being cuddled, living peacefully—it helps. Makes me feel like there’s still good out there.”
You glanced at him curiously, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying. “Sounds like a tough job,” you said carefully.
Bucky smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah… it can be.”
It's his turn to hold and cuddle the baby panda, and the sight is nothing short of heartwarming. The little creature, with its round face and soft, fuzzy coat, snuggles into his arms as he cradles it gently. Bucky’s eyes light up with a mix of joy and awe, his broad smile breaking through his usually composed demeanor. He chuckles softly, a sound that resonates with warmth, as the panda nuzzles against his chest, completely at ease.
There’s a brief pause, the kind that feels heavy with something unsaid, as he shifts his gaze from the panda to you. The moment stretches out, filled with unspoken tension.
Then, suddenly, he turns toward you, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his expression. “You know… if you’re not busy sometime, maybe we could grab a coffee? Or dinner, maybe?” His cheeks flush slightly, as if he’s unsure how his invitation will be received, but the sincerity in his eyes reveals his hopefulness.
Your heart skipped a beat. His voice was casual, but there was a hint of nervousness behind it, which made it all the more endearing.
You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “I’d like that.”
His face lit up, the awkward tension lifting. “Great,” he said, looking almost relieved. “I’ll, uh, message you then?”
“Yeah,” you replied, feeling the beginnings of a connection you hadn’t expected. “I’d like that a lot.”
🐼🐼🐼🐼
Your relationship with Bucky started innocently enough, bonding over your shared love for pandas and animals. What began as casual conversations about your common interests slowly grew deeper. The two of you spent more time together, texting throughout the day, meeting for coffee, or watching movies late into the night. It wasn’t long before you started spending nights at each other’s places. The closeness felt natural, and his easygoing demeanor made you feel safe.
Clara, of course, couldn’t resist teasing you about it. One evening during a shift, she shot you a knowing look. “You know,” she began with a smirk, “you should introduce him to your family. I bet his shadow alone could shut them up.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes. "One step at a time, Clara. I don't want him to run away after meeting my family."
Over time, your relationship with Bucky deepened, and intimacy followed. You spent nights at his apartment, and he did the same at yours. The affection between you two was comfortable and warm. Bucky worked as a contractor, which sometimes took him out of town for a while. That’s why, one day, he handed you the key to his apartment with a smile.
“Keep it,” he said. “Just in case you need to check on Alpine.”
Alpine was his cat, a fluffy white ball of fur who quickly won your heart. You adored her, and it was easy to see why Bucky did too.
One day, on your day off, you decided to spend the afternoon at Bucky’s place. It was quiet and cozy, perfect for unwinding after a long week. His salary as a contractor must be high enough that he can afford this house.
Alpine was curled up on your lap as you sat on the couch, absentmindedly stroking her soft fur. The gentle purrs coming from her were soothing.
Suddenly, Alpine’s ears perked up, and before you knew it, she jumped from your lap and padded over to the bookshelf. You watched curiously as she stretched her paws toward one of the shelves.
“What are you up to, little one?” you murmured, getting up to see what had caught her attention. As you reached out to move a book, you heard a soft click. Before you could react, the bookshelf started to shift, revealing a hidden door.
Your heart raced as you hesitated for a moment, but when Alpine darted through the opening, you knew you couldn’t just leave her. Steeling your nerves, you stepped inside.
The room you entered was nothing like the cozy, homey apartment you knew. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the scene before you. Guns lined the walls, various types of explosives were neatly arranged on shelves, and papers filled with detailed information were pinned to a whiteboard. It looked like something straight out of a spy movie—except it wasn’t a movie. It was real.
“When I finally make a move, turns out the man I like is a killer,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you picked up Alpine and quickly backed out of the room. You closed the secret door, your mind racing.
What do I do now?
You paced back and forth in the living room, your heart pounding in your chest. Your thoughts spiraled as you tried to process what you had just seen. Finally, in a panic, you grabbed your phone and dialed Clara.
After a couple of rings, her voice came through, light and cheery. “Yo, girls, what’s up?”
You swallowed hard, still clutching Alpine close to you. “Clara…”
“Yeah?” Her tone shifted slightly, sensing something was off.
You whispered into the phone, your voice shaky as you held Alpine close to your chest, “I think my boyfriend is a hitman."
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Taglist:
@thezombieprostitute
@scott-loki-barnes
@mostlymarvelgirl
@missvelvetsstuff
Extras:
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616 notes · View notes
nemo-writes · 2 months ago
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⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆
↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader
↣ chapter summary; going back to the coven is anything but comforting. meanwhile, the pack finally face the truth, consumed by shame and grief as they finally grasp the depth of their betrayal—and what it’s cost them.
⚠️ warnings; none
★ previous ; next
☆ story masterlist
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The trip home stretched endlessly, the hum of magic-infused machinery barely masking the heavy silence that filled the car. You sat in the back seat next to your Mother, her gaze remained fixed out the window, unyielding and distant, while Cath Palug purred softly in her lap, seemingly impervious to the tension.
Up front, König drove in complete silence, his focus locked on the road. His stillness was matched by Sybil, who had climbed into the back with you, pressing herself against your side. Her warmth and steady breaths anchored you.
The landscape shifted as the car veered off the main road, winding deeper into the countryside. The town near the coven came into view, a picture of quiet prosperity nestled among the trees. Its flourishing streets and bustling community reflected your Mother’s fierce protection and the coven’s watchful eye. People paused as the sleek black car passed, bowing deeply or offering respectful nods. Despite your Mother’s cold and exacting nature, her loyalty and strength ensured the people's safety and growth.
The car rolled through the wrought iron gates of the estate, the sprawling grounds of the coven’s domain stretching out before you. The old English-style mansion rose ahead, a commanding presence surrounded by lush gardens and shadowed paths. Across the grounds, women in training moved purposefully, their whispered conversations halting when they caught sight of the car. They too bowed deeply, their expressions a mix of admiration and caution. Others, bolder, whispered amongst themselves, their gazes darting away when you glanced toward them through the window.
As the car slowed to a stop, your other mother emerged from the grand entrance, her wheelchair gliding forward with its graceful, hand-like appendages navigating the uneven stones effortlessly. Horangi walked steadily behind her, his presence as sharp and watchful as ever. At her side, her sleek, pitch-black Borzoi, Barghest, padded with a measured elegance.
Your Mom’s face lit up at the sight of you, though her eyes quickly darted to Sybil’s slight limp and the exhaustion etched into your features. Concern softened her expression, and her lips parted to speak, but her gaze shifted to your Mother first. She extended a hand, and your Mother leaned down, placing a tender kiss on her lips.
“I missed you,” your Mom murmured softly, her hand lingering on your Mother’s cheek.
Your Mother, though ever composed and aloof, allowed the faintest softening of her features. “As did I,” she replied, her voice low and steady.
Their connection, brief but undeniable, reminded you of the rare moments when their love shone through the icy expectations that so often consumed your Mother.
Turning her attention back to you, your Mom’s warm expression returned, though concern shadowed her gaze. “You look dreadful,” she said gently, her tone laced with worry. Her eyes flicking down to Sybil. “Not just tired. Injured. Both of you.”
Barghest tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing as she approached Sybil. There was a moment of stillness, a silent assessment passing between the two dogs. Then, the larger Borzoi lowered her head, greeting Sybil like a mother would her pup. Sybil, though hesitant at first, leaned into the touch, her tail giving a faint, tentative wag.
Your Mother remained silent, her cool poise unshaken, though you caught the faintest flicker of tension in her jaw—a rare tell. Without a word, she turned sharply on her heel, her movements precise and deliberate as if to shield any hint of unease. Cath Palug, ever her shadow, padded gracefully beside her, the flick of her tail echoed the unspoken dismissal left behind.
Your Mom sighed, shaking her head gently. “Inside. Now,” she said, her tone firm but kind.
König stepped out of the car without a word, his quiet efficiency undisturbed as he moved to the trunk. “I’ll handle everything,” he said, his voice low and steady. It was both a reassurance and a dismissal, leaving no room for argument as he began gathering your things.
Too drained to muster much else, you nodded faintly and followed your Mom’s gesture toward the house. Her wheelchair, its enchanted appendages moving with fluid precision, moved alongside you, the faint whir of magic lacing the air. Sybil kept close, her steps tentative as she walked beside you.
The familiar halls of the mansion unfolded around you, the heavy drapes and intricate carvings exuding an air of both history and expectation. The scent of aged wood and faint herbs lingered, familiar and oppressive.
In the sunlit sitting room, your Mom gestured for you to sit. “Horangi,” she said, her voice firm, “fetch tea and something to eat. They’ve been through enough already.”
Horangi hesitated for the briefest moment, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he turned on his heel and disappeared toward the kitchen without a word.
As you sank into the plush chair she indicated, Sybil curled at your feet, her head resting on your ankle. Barghest lingered near the doorway, before settling herself a short distance away, her gaze never straying far.
Your Mom clicked her tongue softly, a mix of concern and affection coloring her voice. “Put your feet up, darling,” she instructed gently, and with a graceful flick of her wrist, an ottoman slid effortlessly into place in front of you, gliding as if carried on an invisible current. “You’ve had a long enough journey, and I’m not having you sit there like some tensed-up statue.”
You hesitated for a moment, but her expectant gaze left no room for argument. Sighing, you shifted slightly and rested your feet on the plush surface, instantly feeling a sense of relief from the aching tension in your legs, especially your ankle. Sybil lifted her head slightly, her gaze flicking to your Mom with quiet, watchful curiosity.
“Good,” your Mom said, her tone softening further as she leaned forward, her sharp eyes sweeping over you with maternal precision. Her hands moved deftly as she checked your ankle, her touch light yet methodical. When she saw the faint marks left behind by your injuries, her lips pressed into a thin line, but her expression quickly morphed into one of quiet pride.
“These have already begun to heal,” she said, nodding approvingly. “Quick thinking, and your technique was flawless. If nothing else, I can see you took my lessons to heart.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her obvious gloating. “I didn’t have much choice,” you replied lightly. “It was that or worse.”
“That,” she said with a knowing smile, “is exactly what I taught you. You’ve made me proud, my darling. Even your binding work on these wounds is excellent, though it’s high time they were changed.”
With practiced ease, she removed the bandages, inspecting each mark carefully before conjuring a soft glow around her hands. The warmth of her magic soothed the lingering aches as she worked. Fresh bandages appeared at her side, summoned with a flick of her fingers, and she replaced the old ones with an efficiency that spoke to years of experience.
Satisfied with her work, she turned her attention to Sybil, who watched the proceedings with quiet patience. “Now, let’s see about you,” she murmured, crouching slightly as she reached out toward her.
Sybil tilted her head, her large, intelligent eyes locking onto your Mom’s. After a moment’s hesitation, she allowed the inspection. “Remarkable resilience,” she remarked, her voice tinged with admiration. “She’s a true reflection of her master’s skill. But even she needs rest.”
Barghest lifted her head slightly at the remark, her ears flicking forward as if to assess Sybil once more before settling back down again.
With Sybil’s examination complete, your Mom nodded in satisfaction. “There we are. Now, no arguments—you’ll have tea and something to eat before I let you do anything else.”
As if on cue, Horangi returned, carrying a tray laden with steaming tea, biscuits, and small plates of fruit. His expression was as cool as he set it down on the low table before you. “Tea,” he announced curtly.
“Thank you, Horangi,” your Mom said warmly, her tone cutting through his frostiness like sunlight through mist. “We’ll manage from here.”
You poured yourself a cup, the warm aroma calming your frayed nerves as you leaned back into the chair. Sybil sniffed at the tray, her nose twitching curiously as you passed her a small piece of biscuit. When Horangi offered her another, she snorted, turning her head with a pointedly disdainful flick of her tail.
Your Mom chuckled softly, shaking her head. “She’s as particular as her mistress.”
With the tea and bandages sorted, your Mom clapped her hands, signaling the end of your brief respite. Her gaze softened as it rested on you, though the warmth didn’t mask the firmness in her tone. “That’s enough for now, darling. Go to your room. It’s been prepared and left untouched since the day you left.”
The words landed with an unmistakable weight, unspoken tension crackling faintly in the air between you. For a moment, you considered saying something, but the words died on your tongue. Instead, you gave a curt nod, rising to your feet as Sybil stretched and followed close at your side. Barghest didn't move from her place, but you could feel her watching the two of you go.
The door opened before you could reach it, and there stood König, his towering presence filling the doorway. His gaze immediately dropped to you, scanning your face for any sign of distress . Still, he said nothing, but his intent was clear as he stepped aside, waiting to escort you.
“König,” you started, exhaling sharply, “I don’t need—”
“Upstairs,” he interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “Your room.”
You frowned but knew better than to argue further. He didn’t push; he simply waited, his quiet resolve enough to make you give in with a sigh. His hand hovered near your lower back, not touching but close enough to guide you as you left the sitting room.
The climb up the grand staircase was heavier than it should have been. As you ascended, the apprentices of the coven—a mix of young women in training and those tending to the estate—moved about their tasks. Some bowed their heads respectfully, their gazes averted as they murmured greetings. Others, less acquainted with you, whispered amongst themselves, their curiosity poorly hidden.
“Is that her?” one murmured, her voice barely audible but sharp enough to reach your ears. “The young lady who ran away?”
“She is,” another replied, her tone hushed with a mix of awe and skepticism. “The heir.”
The words pricked at your composure, but you forced your expression to remain neutral, your stride steady. König, however, shot them a sharp glance over his shoulder, his narrowed eyes silencing the whispers instantly. His imposing presence alone was enough to scatter their murmurs, leaving only the faint shuffle of their footsteps.
“You didn't have to—” you started again, but König interrupted with a quiet, unyielding tone. “I do.”
When you reached your room, he stepped ahead of you, opening the door with a slow push. The air inside was still and heavy, thick with the weight of time passed. Everything was exactly as you’d left it—the furniture untouched, the books neatly stacked, and the faint scent of your perfume lingering as though it had waited for you to return.
Sybil padded inside first, hopping onto the bed and curling up in its center with an air of practiced ease, as if reclaiming her territory. You lingered in the doorway, your gaze sweeping the room. What should have been comforting instead felt stifling, the untouched state of the room more of a reminder than a reprieve.
König stepped aside to let you enter fully, his eyes following your every movement. “It’s the same,” he said softly, almost as though the words were for himself.
“It’s suffocating,” you admitted quietly, your fingers brushing against the edge of the desk. The room, with all its familiarity, felt like a cage—one you’d thought you’d escaped.
König frowned slightly but said nothing, his expression under his mask unreadable as always. After a moment, he reached down and gently picked up your bag from where he’d set it near the doorway, placing it on the bed beside Sybil.
“I’ll leave you to settle in,” he said finally, his tone softer than before. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you as if searching for something, but then he gave a small nod. “I’ll be close if you need anything.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and left, his heavy steps retreating down the hall. You sighed, closing the door behind him, and leaned back against it. The stillness of the room pressed down on you, and though Sybil’s steady presence was a comfort, the weight of the past seemed to close in.
Crossing to the window, you pushed it open, letting the cool evening air sweep into the room. It helped—if only a little.
As you moved around the room, a soft knock came at the door. Sybil, ever vigilant, lifted her head from her paws, her ears perking. Before you could say anything, the door creaked open, revealing a young girl you didn’t recognize. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, her wide eyes hesitant as she stepped inside, balancing a neatly folded pile of clothes in her arms.
“These are for you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a nervous edge. “Lady Le Fay picked them out herself.”
Your gaze flicked to the clothes—exquisitely made, as always. Their elegance spoke of your Mother’s impeccable standards, her expectations woven into every stitch. You nodded, a simple acknowledgment, and reached for the garments, but the girl hesitated, her hands tightening on the fabric for just a moment before releasing it.
“I’ll help you,” she offered quickly, setting the pile down on the bed. She busied herself with smoothing the wrinkles, her nervous energy filling the room. As she worked, she glanced up at you, her expression uncertain. “I—I know it’s not my place, but… I wanted to say something.”
You arched a brow, motioning for her to continue as you picked up the blouse, the material cool against your fingertips.
“I think… what you did—leaving, I mean—was brave,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her words hung in the air, heavy with risk. “I know most of the others don’t see it that way, but I do.”
Her admission caught you off guard. You paused, meeting her gaze, and she flushed under your scrutiny, her hands wringing nervously. “I just think that… if more of us thought like you, maybe this place wouldn’t feel so—” She hesitated, her words catching on the edge of something unspoken. “So oppressive.”
A bitter smile tugged at your lips, though you tried to suppress it. “Oppressive,” you repeated softly, the word tasting both foreign and familiar on your tongue.
The girl straightened, her expression shifting as if she regretted her honesty. “Not that I’m ungrateful,” she added quickly. “Our lives are good. Better than most. It’s just…” She trailed off, shaking her head as if the rest of the sentence was too dangerous to utter.
You turned toward her fully, folding the blouse carefully in your hands. “You’re not wrong,” you said after a beat. “But you’re also not ready to say it out loud. Not here.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you thought she might argue. Instead, she nodded, a faint look of understanding passing over her features. “Thank you,” she whispered, dipping her head respectfully. “I’ll leave you to finish.”
With that, she slipped out of the room, the door clicking softly behind her. You stared at the closed door for a moment, the tension in your chest knotting tighter. Sybil padded closer, her head nudging your leg.
“Brave,” you murmured to yourself as you began dressing, the word echoing in your mind. It wasn’t how you’d ever seen it. Foolish, reckless, selfish—all those had been easier to accept. But brave? It felt foreign, like a coat you weren’t sure how to wear.
As you fastened the final button, Sybil huffed softly. You knelt to scratch behind her ears, her steady gaze meeting yours as if she, too, approved of the sentiment. “Maybe,” you said quietly, “just maybe.”
. . .
The silence after Alejandro and Rudy’s revelations was suffocating, a tangible weight pressing down on the room. Laswell had gone upstairs to deal with Leah, leaving the pack to sit with the unbearable truth laid out before them.
At the centre of the table sat the nail, sealed in a small glass flask. It was a stark reminder of everything they had ignored, every warning they had missed. Alejandro and Rudy had placed it there when they began their explanation, a silent indictment of the pack’s failure to see what had been festering under their noses.
Price sat at the head of the table, his expression was unreadable, but the lines around his mouth and the set of his jaw betrayed his inner turmoil. He’d barely spoken during their explanation, his hand resting heavily on the table, fingers occasionally twitching as if itching to grip something—anything.
Gaz sat at the table, his face buried in his hands, silent tears slipping through his fingers. His knee, usually bouncing with nervous energy, was still for once, the tension in his body radiating a quiet devastation. The guilt tore through him like claws—how had they let it get this far? How had they hurt you so deeply, so irreparably?
Johnny, unable to bear it, had bolted from the room. His overgrown hair whipped behind him as he fled, his footsteps heavy and uneven. The door slammed somewhere in the distance, and they all knew he was headed back to the woods, a place he’d always gone to hide when the world became too much.
Price’s gaze moved to Ghost, who hadn’t uttered a word since the conversation began. “Simon,” he said, his voice firm but quieter.
Ghost didn’t move. His hands were still planted on the table, his head bowed, his broad shoulders tense. Price’s tone softened, though the weight of his words remained. “You’ve got to say something. Anything.”
Still, he said nothing, his mind an unrelenting whirlwind of fragmented memories, half-formed regrets, and the crushing realisation of what he’d done. He’d been the one who brought Leah into their lives. But worst of all, he’d hurt you. Attacked you and Sybil.
The reality had settled over him like a lead cloak, immobilising him.
Alejandro, standing by the wall with his arms crossed, scoffed. “What’s the point of talking? He knows what he did.” His sharp gaze cut to Price. “But don’t think for a second that any of you are off the hook. You all failed her.”
“Enough,” Price said sharply, his tone commanding. “We know. Don’t you think we bloody know?”
Alejandro smirked coldly, his gaze unwavering. “Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it.”
Rudy, standing nearby, placed a calming hand on Alejandro’s arm. “Ale, we’ve said what we came to say. Let them deal with it.”
“Fine,” he muttered, but his eyes burned with disdain as he looked at them.
Gaz swallowed hard, “But who… who did this? Who’s responsible?”
Alejandro shrugged, brow furrowed. “We don’t know exactly, yet at least. Whoever it was, they knew what they were doing.”
Price exhaled heavily, his hand running over his face as if trying to push back the weight of the truth. “You’re saying this was all to isolate her?”
Rudy nodded solemnly. “That’s how these curses work. They isolate, divide, and weaken. She was the target from the start. You? You were just tools. Puppets.”
Alejandro crossed his arms, his gaze hard. “So don’t sit here wallowing in your own self-pity. Whatever guilt you’re feeling, it’s deserved. But the real question is, what are you going to do about it?”
Gaz let out a choked sound. “How… how do we fix this? How do we even begin to fix this?”
Price stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he walked to the window. His broad shoulders were rigid, as he stared out at the darkening horizon. “For now,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute, “we leave her alone. Like I said, we need to fix ourselves first, we have no right to even think about going after her.”
Alejandro and Rudy exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Rudy sighed, his voice quieter but no less resolute. “We’ll keep looking,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the broken pack. “Whoever’s responsible for this won’t get away with it. When we know, we’ll keep you posted.”
Alejandro gave a firm nod, his expression unyielding. “But don’t expect miracles from us,” he added sharply.
They turned toward the door, the weight of their words settling like ash in the room. Rudy paused briefly, glancing back at the pack with a flicker of hesitation. But before they could leave, Ghost finally spoke.
His voice was low, gravelly, like the sound of rocks grinding together. “Is she… okay?”
Alejandro stopped, his hand resting on the doorframe. Rudy looked at him, eyebrows furrowing, but Alejandro didn’t move.
“You should know the answer to that, shouldn’t you?” he said flatly. “You know her best.”
Ghost stayed silent, his head bowing ever so slightly. Deep down, he already knew. The part of him that loved you with every fiber of his being—despite feeling unworthy of it—knew that you were okay, wherever you were. But that knowledge didn’t ease the hollow ache inside him.
With that, the front door closed with a heavy thud, leaving the pack alone once again.
Price stood at the window, unmoving, the faint glow of his nth cigar's ember casting a dim light in the darkening room. His shoulders were tense, the weight of his failures settling heavily on him, but his voice was steady when he finally spoke.
“Get it together,” he said, his words cutting through the silence like a knife. “We’ve all failed her. But if she’s still out there, we owe it to her to fix this.”
Ghost remained at the table, his eyes fixed on the cursed nail. The silence that followed was more damning than anything that had been said.
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averagewriter-inthedark · 4 months ago
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The Doctor's Wife 💘 | Carlisle Cullen Imagine
Set during the events of Twilight (2008)
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Twilight Masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x female!vampire!reader (romantic), Bella Swan x Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen x reader (platonic)
Content warnings: fluff, light angst, suggestive themes right at the end | female reader (she/her) | wc: 3.5k
requested 📥 yes/no
Premise: When Edward introduces Bella to his family after weeks of avoiding the inevitable, there was no telling how it was going to go down. Of course, what does one expect when they bring their girlfriend over for the first time…. except it's to a family of animal blood-sucking vampires who's lives each deserve a biography of their own. Bella felt the pressure of making a great impression, but the nerves seemed to heighten in regard to meeting the woman responsible for raising Edward throughout his undead life. The woman whose soul was bonded to none other than the Cullen patriarch.
--------------------------
Over a hundred years walking the Earth and Edward still experienced the universal feeling of cringe and embarrassment. This time, at the hands of none other than his family as he introduced him to the girl who’d captured his undead heart and made it hard for Edward to stay away. 
“Alright, um,” he swallowed, placing a gentle hand on Bella’s back to nudge her in the direction of the staircase. Away from the prying eyes of his siblings and Carlisle after Alice had to say, ‘Oh, you do smell good,’ and Jesper was literally fighting for his life to keep it together. “Where’s Y/n?”
“In her studio,” Carlisle replied with a smile, the mention of his wife bringing a warmth to his chest. “She’s working on a project and can definitely use a break. She’s been excited to meet Bella since you mentioned bringing her over.” 
Bella blushed, the nerves resurfacing at meeting another member of the Cullen family. The matriarch at that. Edward’s adoptive mother and Carlisle’s wife. 
“Thanks,” Edward turned on his heel, leading Bella in the opposite direction. Mumbling a short goodbye, she followed the vampire down the corridor, past the staircase and a living space before stopping in front of a wooden door. 
Before he knocked, Edward put a comforting hand on Bella’s shoulder, “Calm down,” his teeth sparkled against the light, eyes teasing. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”
“Sorry,” she flushed again, cursing at herself. She didn’t understand why she was so nervous to meet Y/n. More so than the rest of his family. Maybe it was because Edward spoke so highly of her. Maybe it was because she saw the way Carlisle lit up at the mere mention of her name. Or how the townspeople praised Y/n, even if they only had one interaction. 
Edward went to knock, but this time was interrupted by a voice calling out from the other side, “Come in!” Smiling, he pushed open the door, revealing a large room in what only could be described as an organized disarray. 
Bella’s jaw slightly dropped, taking in the scene before her. Eyes first darting to the high ceilings with a drop-down chandelier. Though it wasn’t on, thanks to the natural light provided by the left side of the room with floor to ceiling windows where a wall should’ve been. A beautiful, perfect view of the forest surrounding the home. 
The walls were painted a rusted burnt red, the kind you see in art museums. Floors made of the finest dark wood, with one area covered by plastic reserved for protecting it by the paint cans laying on top, beside an easel holding a large canvas. A very large, vintage clock took the center of the wall connected to the window, surrounded by pieces ranging from old signs to shelves holding books and plants. 
On the main wall parallel to the windows, a map of the world hung, flanked by art pieces. Portraits, landscape. Various mediums of pencil, oils, and acrylic. A phone straight from the 1930s mounted above a small table covered by messy stacks of paper. Bella’s eyes drew to a woven basket that came probably to her waist, filled with pieces of rolled parchment. A few laid on the ground. A foot away from it was a cart holding art supplies. 
Finally, Bella’s gaze landed on the figure in the center of the room. Y/n sat on a wooden stool, her posture perfect, hand scribbling across a large piece of parchment placed on the wooden desk facing the windows. The desk was the type that propped up, a lamp attached to the corner, and side table. Something an artist or engineer invested in. 
“I thought I heard the raging pump of a heartbeat approaching.” Bella squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment, letting out a small groan. Opening them when she heard the skid of the stool against the floor. 
“Y/n,” Edward scolded, tone playful. 
“Apologies, I couldn’t help myself,” Y/n chuckled, approaching the two with a wide smile. Bella held her breath, admiring the woman before her. Alice may have been the fashion girlie of the family, but there was no denying who she must’ve gotten it from. 
Y/n made even the simplest of clothing look ethereal. White blouse tucked into beige trousers, brown belt with hints of gold, paired with stunning white heeled boots. The necklaces she wore were layered, the longest of which had several charms making them clink together, bracelets covering her wrists, three rings on each hand, and gold hoops. A multicolor scarf consisting of warm tones like red, orange, and yellow tied around her hair. Then of course, her eyes were melting gold. 
She was the picture of an artist. 
Upon closer inspection, Bella had to hold back a whistle at the ring reserved for her left ring finger. Carlisle sure had taste and made sure his lady got what she deserved. That was no ring. That was a rock.
“You must be the famous Bella,” Y/n’s hand shot out, Bella hesitating a moment before taking it. Y/n’s handshake was soft yet firm at the same time. Bringing a chill to Bella as their skin met. “It is truly a pleasure to meet you,” letting go of her hand, Y/n brought both of hers up to make a gesture. “I have been begging Edward to bring you around for weeks. I don’t know why it’s taken him so long,” a playful glare was directed at him. 
Edward rolled his eyes, then put an arm around Bella. “Bella, this is Y/n. My mother for all intents and purposes. Artist, architect, and occasional therapist to all of us emotionally stunted immortal teenagers.”
“You said it, not me,” Y/n smirked, hands raised again. 
Bella laughed, comforted by Edwards touch as she regarded Y/n. “It’s really nice to meet you, Y/n. Edward talks about you all the time.”
“Good things, correct?”
“Of course,” Bella assured, nudging Edward who had scoffed. “He mentioned you designed this house--it’s absolutely beautiful. And this--,” motioning to the space, Bella was again in awe of Y/n’s studio. It’s like she was walking through an exhibit in the Louvre. “Wow.”
“When I made the blueprints for this house, I wanted everyone to have a place--plus everyone was vocal about what they wanted,” she teases with a grin. “Carlisle has his study, Alice her closets, Rosalie wished for a garage, Jesper desired a library, Emmett a game room, Edward got his music room. And me,” a hand waves to the room with pride. “My studio.”
Bella raised an intrigued brow, aimed at Edward, “you have a music room?” 
Had he been human, Edward would have blushed. He brushed it off with a shrug, “Yeah, it’s just where I keep a few instruments. I’ll show you as we go through the house.”
“A few,” Y/n lightly scoffed, earning a small glare from the boy. 
“Carlisle said you’re working on a project,” he changed the subject, nudging his head toward the desk. Catching sight of the blueprints that were in the early draft stages. 
“The high school plans to renovate the library, so they’ve asked me to go over some plans and designs. They were pleased with my work for the gym last year.” 
Edward turns to Bella, “Y/n has the magic touch for designing and constructing. And because we’ve had the time to redo college over and over again….” They share a laugh, “she’s got degrees in art, engineering, design, and business on top of her architecture education.”
The woman simply shrugs, “I like to keep busy. Who wouldn't want to take advantage of obtaining all the world’s knowledge when you have eternity.” If she saw the pointed look Edward was giving her, Y/n ignored it. 
“Anyway,” He sighed, returning his attention to Bella, “The town comes to her for consultations. And, in most cases than often, she designs and oversees the build.”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Bella awed, past Edward’s shoulder she spotted the white construction worker's hat. Propped beside a coat hanger possessing a pair of overalls, scarves, and painters' boots. “Did you-,” her finger pointed to the display of artwork, “paint all those?”
“Several, yes,” Y/n motioned them to follow her, moving closer to the wall. “This one you might have guessed is the view of the forest from this room. The first one I did when we moved here. But not all are recent, some I did in the 90s--,” she pointed to a canvas framed with gold trimming near the top. Depicting an image of inside a medical tent, “That one is from when I volunteered for the Army Nurses Corps.”
Bella’s eyes bulged, glancing between Y/n and Edward. “You--you served during the War?” 
Y/n nodded, expression now solemn, “First World War. We were living in Virginia at the time and therefore injured soldiers coming back from Europe docked at the bases there first. Carlisle was the trauma surgeon, and I was a nurse.” Her boots echoed against the wood as they strolled down. “We stayed there the duration of the war before settling in Chicago….”
“How long before he wakes up?”
“Not long,” Carlisle kept his eyes on the unconscious boy while his wife paced behind him. Had they been able to sweat they would’ve been drenched. “The venom transferred from his neck. The closest I could get to his heart--it should take less than a day.”
Y/n ran a hand through her neatly styled hair in distress. They’d only been in Chicago a few months. Arriving when the War ended and immediately joining the effort to combat the Spanish Influenza spreading through the population. With their current predicament, there was no way they could stay.  
Ripping the nurses cap off, she asked, “What’s our next move then? We can’t stay here. This city is an endless potluck of people, and we don’t know how strong his urges will be,” she stopped pacing, coming beside her husband with a pleading gaze. “I know you said his parents are dead, but that doesn't mean he may not have family who’ll come looking for him. What kind of people are we to rip him from the ones who love him?” Upon the look she received, Y/n dropped her head, “Unless you mean to fake his death.” 
Carlisle placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “The boy had the influenza. They saw his condition--it was deteriorating. They’ll believe it took him in the night and his body was sent to the incinerators. Just like the others.”
Y/n sniffed, eyes welling with unshed tears. “I know, but…” she trailed off, “He’s a kid, Carlisle. We agreed that when it came time for us to save someone from death, it would not mean robbing them of their life--.”
“He was dying, Y/n,” his tone was firm, yet gentle. “I promised his mother we’d look after him.” Eyes flicker to Edward, then back to Y/n. While Carlisle hated himself for what he’d done, there was no going back now. “He’s our responsibility now. We’ve to teach him the ways of this life and make sure he copes with it. Not succumb to the darkness like we did.” 
Another sound left her, Y/n taking a moment to process before nodding. “Okay,” she whispered, keeping her voice steady. “We take this day-by-day.”
“Day-by-day.” 
“That’s when Edward….” Bella trailed, biting her lip when she realized it wasn’t the best idea to bring it up. Yet, she was surprised both the vampires nodded, understanding her implication. Instead, she said, “He mentioned you’ve been with Carlisle the longest….”
Like earlier with the doctor, Y/n visibly brightened at each time his name was said. “Will be two hundred years this fall.”
“Two--two hundred??” The human spluttered. Edward had failed to tell her that information. Only saying the two had been together long before Carlisle saved him. 
Chuckling at Bella’s reaction, Y/n tucked a piece of stray hair back in its place. “The vampire who bit me didn’t stick around. Abandoning me. A few days later of endless wonder and unable to control my newfound appetite, Carlisle found me.” Her smile was so wide, bright white teeth bouncing off light. “It’s been quite a life ever since.” 
They spent the next few minutes learning about the history of each painting. From the oil masterpiece of the New York Skyline to the charcoal portrait of Joan of Arc. Bella took time to admire the watercolor image of Carlisle. Donned in his white coat, hair and posture perfect. 
“Ah yes,” Y/n hummed, beaming up at the canvas. “My personal favorite. Though I’m a little biased given the muse of this piece happens to be the muse of my soul.” 
“Stay still.”
“I am.” 
“No, you’re not,” Y/n berated, dipping the brush back into the golden color before continuing to paint Carlisle’s hair. “I know this is time consuming, darling, but it’s not like you haven’t done it before.” 
“In my defense,” his hand raised, quickly putting it back in his lap when she groaned, “I’ve never technically sat for a portrait. The ones from Volterra were done while I wasn’t aware they were being painted.” A grimace took his features, remembering his time with the Volturi. “Aro preferred moments to be captured as they were happening in real time.”
Y/n threw him a look, shaking her head in the process. “Yeah, he seems like the type.” 
“First and last time he got to play model,” she laughed at the memory. “Thanks to the creation of the camera I could develop a photograph and wallah!” her hands made a gesture, “A still image to use as reference. And now with cell phones….I don’t even have to put in the work to develop the photo. It’s right there!”
Initially Bella found her reaction to a camera phone a little odd. But then remembered Y/n was a 200+ year old vampire and literally witnessed the development and advancement of technology. 
“But I don’t always create,” Y/n winked, stopping in front of a stunning work of a lily pond. “Sometimes I collect.”
Stepping closer, Bella inspected the art, finger on her lip as her brows furrowed in concentration. She’d seen it before. The familiarity of it was driving her brain into overdrive. Then it hit her, breath hitching, “Is that…A Monet?” Her confirmation nod made Bella nearly choke on her saliva. “How--?”
“Being alive 226 years and getting the privilege of traveling anywhere means I’ve had the pleasure of meeting interesting people,” her smirk was the type a movie villain showed that made the audience fall in love with them and brush away the fact they were a villain. A captivating sight. “One of those people happened to be Claude Monet during our time in France. Our shared love for art and nature brought a great friendship. I was actually with him when he painted this,” she casually said, aware of Bella’s astonished reaction despite her eyes trained on the canvas. “Unfortunately, Carlisle and I left before I got to see him finish. After he died several of his paintings went to museums or auctioned off. I made sure to acquire this one--took me about three years to find.”
After a moment of gawking, Bella gathered herself and moved onto the next piece. It really felt like they were in an art museum. Soon they came to the end of the gallery. 
“You’re incredibly talented,” Bella praised, unable to take her attention off the marble sculpture enclosed in a glass case by the small bookshelf. 
“Thank you. It’s nice to finally have someone to show this all too. Instead of just me admiring it daily.” Y/n put her hands in pockets, “Now I hate to kick you out, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a deadline to beat,” Y/n led them to the door, “and I’ll let you get back to your tour of the house. It was lovely to meet you, Bella, and please don’t be a stranger. Our door is always open for you.” 
“I really appreciate it,” Bella smiled, standing beside Edward in the doorway, “It was great meeting you too.” A wave of a goodbye and promise to visit again, Y/n watched Edward escort his girlfriend up the staircase to the second floor. Leaning against the side, Y/n touched a finger to her lips, not bothering to hide the giant grin surfacing. 
“I know that look.”
Despite speaking after Bella and Edward disappeared, Y/n felt Carlisle’s presence the second he breached the corridor. Not to mention the tingling sensation at the base of her spine. 
Slowly turning to face him, her smile widened, and Carlisle saw the way her golden hues sparkled when he approached. “And what exactly is that look?”
“The one where you’re overcome with happiness unable to be measured with how much it consumes you.” 
Hands took hold of her shoulders, gently brushing down until they reached her own, Y/n leaning into his touch, voice teasing, “What mother would I be to not be overjoyed for her son and the wonderful girlfriend he’s brought home?” 
Carlisle chuckled, tilting his head down to place a kiss on her forehead. The floral aroma of her Marc Jacobs perfume amplified her already sweet scent. Oh, how addicted he was to her scent. It was like walking through a garden of the most beautiful flowers on Earth. 
“You didn’t embarrass him, did you?”
Y/n rolled her eyes, tapping his chest to scold him, “Not much more than you lot. He was practically dragging Bella out of the kitchen.” Carlisle raised his hands in defense, making her raise a brow.
“That was all the kids. I’m innocent, my dear, you must believe me.” 
She tsked, “Well, at least you didn’t scare the poor girl like Rosalie and Jasper. And as much as I love Alice’s excitement, you might want to tell her to take it down a notch,” Y/n made a face, “I thought we all agreed last night not to bring up Bella’s scent.”
She was met with a sigh, her sculptured-God of a husband dropping his head onto her shoulder in defeat. “What was I supposed to do? You left me to fend for myself.” 
Laughing, Y/n reached her arms around his shoulders, encasing him in an embrace to which he greatly accepted. “I’m sorry, my love. Will you forgive me? I promise to find you the finest stag in all of Washington for you to feast upon.” Instantly his head shot up, moving it so their noses brushed against each other. 
“That’ll do.” Their lips met, igniting fireworks throughout their bodies as it always had for 200 years. Never once losing the feeling. 
They’d seen everything in the course of their century's long life. Several wars. Epidemics. The fall of countries and rise of new ones. Medicine advancing, technology overtaking man. The race to space and the rebirth of the Olympic Games. 
Met people who’d changed the world. Witnessed humanity evolve--and sometimes wondered how the hell it could be so stupid. But overall, they were the stagnant figures in their plane of existence. Time moving, they remained still.
And yet, somehow, they were able to find a family after all. 
When they pulled apart, their expressions of love remained. “God,” she hummed, “That never gets old.”
“Just like the first time?” He chafed, gold eyes glimmering.
Y/n pretending to think, lips pouting, “Less nervous,” a squeal escaped her at the feeling of his fingers tickling her ribcage. Shoving him away, the woman chided, “Get back to the hospital old man. There are patients to be seen, and I have a deadline to finish.” The gasp that left him made her grin.
“Old?! I’ll have you know that if I’m old then that means you are---.”
“Don’t you finish that sentence,” her finger pointed at his chest, “otherwise you’re sleeping on the couch.” Carlisle smirked, entering her personal space once again. 
“I can’t sleep. Neither can you.”
“Damn,” she exhaled, feigning defeat when really, she was becoming more invested with their little game. “You’re right.” Then her eyes turned dark, sinister. Face consorting to a look that made Carlisle shudder. 
A look he’d seen hundreds of times, and not once did not bring a chill to his already cold body. Enough to bring his heart back to life. Enough to send the frozen blood down to his spine. 
“Guess we’ll have to find another way to pass the time.” 
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motorsportbarbie13 · 3 months ago
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Forbidden - Part 1
In which you reconnect with an old friend, much to the dismay of your brother.
Warnings: None. This is mostly background and will be several parts.
Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader Word Count: 2.6k words Masterlist Here
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It started slowly, this thing between your brother's best friend and biggest rival and you. So slowly that you hadn't been directly involved, you probably wouldn't have even noticed the clandestine brushing of fingers to skin in the paddock or the flickering looks that lingered just a bit too long. Even the way Max managed to stare at you from his garage went unnoticed by everyone but you. But what started slowly over one summer quickly snowballed into something that nearly destroyed you both.
You'd known Max since you were young, of course, so maybe that was why the pair of you managed to keep things hidden for so long. You two being friendly wasn't all that out of the ordinary so maybe that was why it took people longer to connect the dots. You two had always been friends, but it was a quiet friendship so not many people picked up on it, even back then. But he had always been firmly in the ‘my brother’s best friend and track rival’ category for as long as you could remember.
Did it drive you crazy that they were much quicker to involve your younger brother, Arthur, in their antics instead of you? Yes. But Charlie and his friends were like the untouchable super hero's you watched in movies: larger than life and totally invincible so you always lapped up any ounce of attention they gave you.
As you got older though, your trips to the track became less and less frequent with you picking up your own interests. You traded weekends at the track for weekends spent with friends your own age who didn't worship the ground your brother and his friends walked on. Before long, you were headed off to university in New York City, wanting a bit of space from your famous brother and his aura. You loved Charlie and Arthur to death, they were your favorite people in the world after all, but it was difficult being the 'normal' sister to such talented men and the space had allowed you to thrive on your own, in your own way. 
You went home to Monaco infrequently, the trip from New York to the small principality being just long enough to be annoying to do regularly and traveled to races even less. It wasn’t that you didn’t support Charlie. You always made sure to be at his home race in Monaco and the race in Monza of course, but your life was in New York. First it was your rigorous coursework for your degree in economics from NYU that kept you away and then you continued on with a Master’s degree in economics and international business, the intensity of both programs serving you well crafted excuses for years. 
“You’re really going to come travel with us?” Charlie was unable to hide his surprise and excitement this morning when you called to tell him your post-graduation plans. 
“It’s been the hardest year of my life, between my thesis, interning at the investment firm in Manhattan, and finishing up grad school, I’ve barely had a chance to breathe for years. I need a break Charlie.” You sigh, settling into your couch that faces the floor to ceiling windows in your New York apartment that was currently full of packing boxes. 
“I know you do. You’re the hardest working person in this family.” 
You chuckle, knowing that this wasn’t true. Your two brothers worked just as hard, if not harder, at their careers in motorsport. There was no way Charlie would have reached F1 if he hadn’t been a hard worker. You might be the smartest LeClerc though, although you knew Arthur would never admit to that even if Charlie would. 
“What happened to that job in London?” 
You pick at an invisible piece of lint, wanting to avoid the question, as you shrug even though your brother couldn’t see you. “I told them I wasn’t interested. They wanted too much from me and I’m just so close to being burnt out. I’m taking on a consulting gig with the Bank of London. They’ve agreed to allow me to work remotely so I can live in Monaco and travel. I’ve missed so much of your career Charlie, I hate that I’ve been so absent from everyone for so long.” 
Charlie’s voice goes soft at the sound of regret in your voice, “Oh, petit papillon.” My little butterfly. You can’t help but smile at the nickname, despite the melancholy mood that had settled over you. “We know you did what you had to do to make you happy, we don’t blame you for being gone for so long. All that matters now is that your studies are done and we get to see you more.” 
Your heart warms in your chest. Of course Charlie hadn’t held your distance against you, it wasn’t in his nature to hold grudges against you, even when you fought the hardest. “I’m so excited to come home, Charlie.” 
*Six Weeks Later*
A faint tapping on the front door catches your attention from where you sat in Charlie’s living room, staring at the same spreadsheet you had been working on for the last hour. “Saved by the knock.” You mutter, getting up from your spot on you’re brother’s couch. You’ve spent so much time on the plush piece of furniture over the last few days, busy with work, that you’re surprised there’s not a permanent indent of your backside on the cushion. 
Finding an apartment in Monaco was proving harder than you had thought. Every flat you looked at in the city was either so far out of your price range or was missing something you deemed essential to have in your living space so for the time being you were staying with Charlie and Alexandra in their guest bedroom until the right place came around. 
“Coming!” You call out, hoping to alert the person knocking on the front door to your approach. Although you couldn’t fathom who would be at the door in the middle of the day on a Tuesday afternoon. You quickly run through an inventory of where the important people in your life were: Charlie was at a sponsor event while Alex was at doing some content creation in Paris for the gallery that she worked for. Your mother was at work of course and Arthur was off somewhere with his girlfriend Jade today. Everyone accounted for and busy. 
Without checking the peephole, you swing the door open wide, relieved for an excuse to take a break from the project that had found its way to your inbox early this morning. 
“Maxie!” You gasp, launching yourself into the unprepared arms of the Dutchman who you hadn’t seen in years. 
Max was thankful for his quick reflexes that were required of a world championship winning F1 driver because without them, the two of you would have found yourselves in a heap of limbs on the floor. “Beestje! You nearly took me out.” Max sets you down carefully but not before you have a chance to swat at his arm. 
“You know I hate when you call me that.” You pout, nipping at his finger when he teasingly swipes at your lip. Max had called you ‘little beast’ for as long as you could remember, always delighting in your cries of protest when he did. If there was one thing Max loved, it was teasing Charlie’s sister.  
He grins down at you, dimples winking out at the corner of his mouth. “That’s why I do it.” 
Rolling your eyes, you open the door wide enough to allow the both of you to enter the empty apartment. Max follows you into the living room, where your computer sits discarded. 
“I didn’t know you were visiting.” Max says, trying to remain calm as you settle down on the couch opposite of him. 
You had always been gorgeous, those good looking LeClerc genes that Charles was so famous for had obviously been passed on to you as well, but now? You were hands down the most stunning woman Max had ever seen in his entire life. Your social media presence was sparse, at best, so while he followed you, it was rare for you to post much of anything. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw you in person either, knowing that you much preferred to avoid the harsh light of fame that came with being a LeClerc. 
“Charlie didn’t tell you? I moved back!” You wave a hand towards your laptop, “I got a job with the Bank of London doing consulting work, fully remote.” 
“No, Charles didn’t tell me.” Max says, narrowing his eyes. He had just played padel with Charles and Carlos the other day and he hadn’t made a single mention of you being back. “Where is he, anyway? I came by to see if he wanted to go for a run tonight.” 
You shrug, trying to force your heart rate to slow to a pace that couldn’t potentially be heard by people playing the slots at the famous Monte Carlo Casino down the street. You had always had a juvenile crush on Max. Honestly, who wouldn’t? His demeanor on the track and in the paddock was completely opposite of who he was in private. You may have not spent much, if any, time with him the past decade but you knew that the Max that had been your brother’s childhood best friend and rival was the same Max sitting next to you right now. Nothing had changed.
“He’s at some event for Ferrari. I’ll never understand why people want to pay thousands of dollars to get to talk to the likes of you chuckle heads. How would those donors feel knowing they invested so much in a person that once got so drunk on their birthday they thought the Uber driver was trying to kidnap them because they, and I quote, ‘could totally make a killing with the ransom Christian would pay to get me back.’” 
“That was ONE time!” He croaks, blinking at you in surprise. “And how the fuck did you know about that? Charles swore he’d never tell anyone about that.” 
You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out and Max momentarily forgets how embarrassed he is that you know that story. It’s light and airy, the notes dragging their fingers down Max’s skin. “I’m not ‘anyone’, Maxie darling. You know that.” 
And boy did he. Just the way you wink at him while calling him ‘Maxie darling’ is enough to send his mind into overdrive, wondering how it would feel if more of your attention was turned his way. 
Max just smirks back, fighting to keep up the cool facade he’s usually got so carefully constructed in place. He expertly steers the conversation away from anymore potentially embarrassing stories and towards you. How you’ve been. The near year you spent writing your thesis paper for your Master’s degree. The life you’ve built so far away from Max. It makes his heart squeeze something fierce knowing that you two have drifted so far apart.
Before you know it, the sun is sinking low in the sky, casting a glittering glow over the water just outside the apartment. The sunlight filters in through the half-drawn curtains, bathing you in a golden light. Max had never understood why everyone raves about the beauty of ‘golden hour’ until he saw the setting sun reflected in your eyes. 
He was in so much trouble. 
You two are so lost in your conversation you don’t notice the front door swing open or Charles bustling through the door hours later. Charles pauses when he sees the two of you sat on the couch together. Somewhere between the first and second glass of wine that you had poured when it became evident neither of you wanted the afternoon to end, you had ended up quite close to Max. His hand sat outstretched over the back of the couch, hovering just out of reach of your shoulder. You were leaning into him ever so slightly, laughing at something Max had said moments before. The obvious intimacy between the two of you set off alarm bells for Charles, not liking how Max was looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. 
The thing was, Charles is quite protective of you. It was one of the reasons you always tried to leave the details about your love life out of any conversation you had with either of your brothers. Arthur was bad enough, but your twin? Charles was of the opinion that no one was ever good enough for you. Especially someone like Max. While he wasn’t as bad as some of the guys on the grid (lookin at you Lando Norris), Max still liked to party and take advantage of how often pretty girls threw themselves at him. He did not want someone like that interested in his sister. He knew how much you valued your privacy and that was not something someone like Max could offer you. 
“What’s going on here?” Charles fought to keep the hostility out of his voice, crossing his arms over his chest. 
Max jumped off the couch like it had suddenly burst into flames. He knew how protective Charles was over you and judging by the stormy look on your brother’s face, he wasn’t happy to find him there tonight. 
You, on the other hand, found it amusing how quickly your brother’s protective side reared it’s ugly head. There was nothing to be ashamed of, you knew that. You were just two friends catching up after being apart for so long. Totally innocent. Right? Right. 
“Max stopped by to see if you wanted to go on a run and we just got lost in conversation is all, Charlie.” You sooth, knowing your brother has a short fuse when it comes to you. 
Charles narrows his eyes at Max as if he doesn’t believe your words and to be honest, he probably shouldn’t. If he had known the thoughts racing through Max’s head over the last few hours, Max would have probably found himself in the gravel pit of whatever race was next on the calendar. 
“I was just leaving.” Max stutters, glancing down at where you still sit on the couch, amused grin playing at the corner of your lips. 
“It was nice to see you Maxie.” 
Max doesn’t miss the way Charles clenches his fists when you say his name like that. 
“Always a pleasure, Beestje.” He teases, hoping that Charles doesn’t pick up on the nervous waver in his voice. 
You tip your wine glass towards him in a mock salute before picking up your laptop where it’s sat discarded for the last few hours while Max makes a beeline for the front door. Charles follows him out, eyes trained on the back of his friends head, trying to calm the storm of anger that is swirling around his gut. 
“I don’t think it needs to be said but stay away from my sister.” Charles practically growls when Max’s hand closes over the doorknob. 
“We’re just friends Charles. I haven’t seen her in ages, we were just catching up.” 
“I don’t look at my friends the way you were just looking at her.” Charles grouses. “Just don’t, okay? I don’t want to give her any reason to leave again. If you hurt her, she’ll go running. Leave her alone.” 
Max nods, unable to find the words he wants to use because he has a feeling ‘fuck you, I’ll do whatever I want with your sister’ seems like a bad way to end the conversation. But as he waits for the elevator in the quiet hall, he knows that staying away from you is going to be near impossible. 
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kaciebello · 11 months ago
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Band-aids of death
Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :( word count: 1347
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Percy has been at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seemed like he was good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.
Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway.
After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy finally felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.
Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. However, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.
They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.
Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.
“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own.
“ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.
A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw.
“ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? Nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 
“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues,
“Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”
“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is.
“ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders.
“ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”
“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”
“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen.
“ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 
“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids.
“ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 
“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl.
“ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.
“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks.
“ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 
“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.”
“ Australia?”
“No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 
“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him.
“You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,
 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.
“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.
He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.
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logaenhowlett · 4 months ago
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IF ONLY YOU KNEW PART TWO - L.H.
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Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of everything that occurred last night, Logan decides it's time to stop running from his desires. [Set during Logan (2017)]
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Themes of grief and death, Language
A/N: Thank you so much for the love on part one! Didn't expect it to blow up that much. Good news is, it gave me the motivation to write more, so I have lots of ideas for Logan fics!
MASTERLIST | PART ONE
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Over two hundred years, Death had become all too familiar for Logan. A foe that kept barreling in his direction, but always fizzled out before it reached him, instead striking those he cherished the most. When he was younger, he used to revel in feeling of being indestructible, immortal even. That faded away rather quickly once he realised what a curse it was, a cruel joke he grew tired of. Alas, the universe continued laughing.
He thought he could avoid all the unnecessary pain and misery by severing all ties to humanity, retreating to the ends of the world all by his lonesome. But not even the strongest soldier could resist the craving for connection for that long. When Charles had offered a place in his sanctuary, he refused at first, wondering why the universe always seemed to work against him. 
Eventually, the need to distance himself from everything and everyone became smaller. Charles had given him a home, a family, a sense of belonging and after a while, you. Logan was not one for retrospection, but he often recollects how drastically his life had changed once he’d accepted the responsibility of being an X-Man. How he’d gained a new purpose. He owed everything to Charles Xavier.
The shovel in his hand gets heavier by the second. He stops digging for a moment, sensing a whole lot of anger, sorrow and desperation waiting to burst out of him. He knew the end was near for Charles, ever since the incident the old man was barely hanging on. There were times when he wished Charles would just let go, just stop fighting against his mind and body, for his own sake. But that didn’t make his death hurt any less.
His own exhaustion was catching up to him too, having spent the last few days - hell, the last few months - putting everyone else before himself. He hasn’t been able to rest despite all your efforts.
As the last of the dirt falls onto the grave, Logan staggers backwards, his shoulders knock into the tree. He slides against the trunk a little as his knees begin to loosen under his weight, unsure whether it’ll be the adamantium poisoning or heartache that’ll get him first.
Laura’s sniffling snaps his attention, he watches as she curls into your embrace, nothing you were saying stops the tears from escaping. He can see you’re trying to keep your composure for the little girl, but he knows you’re just inches away from completely breaking down. Charles was the father you’d chosen, he had saved your life just as he’d done for countless others, brought you into his arms and gave you something to live and fight for. He knows you’re as defeated as he is right now. Despite every cell in his body aching to comfort you, he understands you need the time and space to grieve in your own way.
After moments of silence, the three of you return to the car. There wasn’t a lot of time left for Laura to find her friends and cross the border to get to freedom. Logan uses that to ground himself to reality, helping her would be a way to honour Charles, for everything he had done and represented. He vows that he’ll grant her wishes, even if it’s the last thing he’ll do. He owes that to Laura, to Charles and to you.
The stars twinkle miles above, painting the night sky with their luminous hue. Logan pulls into the roadside near a lake, deciding it’s in the best interest of everyone to rest tonight. He steps out the car, scouting for a decent place to start a fire. Laura silently accompanies him to gather wood, her eyes follow you as you wander towards the lake, away from the two of them.
Logan senses her need rush to your side, he shakes his head slightly, understanding her distress, “She’ll be okay, kid.” It comes out a little hoarse, having been the first words he’d spoken all day.
All the smoking he’d done in the last two centuries comes in handy, he uses his lighter to spark flames, tending to it before it settles into a calm fire. He runs his hand down his face, his mind has been in overdrive for too long and all he wants is for one moment of quiet. Where he can surrender, stop trying to survive and just live.
“Why are you hiding?” Laura asks him, holding her hands toward the flame.
“What?”
She turns her head to find you in the distance sitting down on the grass with your feet in the water, “From her.”
Logan follows her line of sight, “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.” 
“You want to die. Charles told me.”
He scoffs, the name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, “What else did he tell you?”
“To not let you.” She stands, finally meeting his eyes. “Tell her. If you want to be happy.” She doesn’t stick around for his response, instead making her way back to the car to sleep.
Her words strike a chord in him, he huffs lightly, ducking his head into his chest. What the hell did she know? Happiness wasn’t something he envisioned for himself. No, that often came in the form of alcohol or stupid cage fights. He never let himself indulge in anything else, having learned his lessons from what seems like a lifetime ago. 
The leaves crunching under your footsteps draws his attention, you sit down an arm's length away, prodding the fire with a stick. He doesn’t know how to address the giant elephant hanging in between the two of you. Last night, when you’d asked the question, the answer was right there on the tip of his tongue. So easy and so simple. But he withdrew, in such a cowardly manner too, deflecting as if he doesn’t ache for you with each passing day.
“He taught me how to play chess.”
He studies you for a brief moment, the tear tracks on your face shine against the orange hue of the fire.
“We used to sit every day, in the garden, I’d run straight to him after classes were done.” You continue, a fond smile on your face, “I was convinced he was cheating, you know? I never beat him.”
Your resolve crumbles and sadness washes over you once again, “And I never will.”
It dawns on him too, the finality of what had happened last night. He almost laughs at the thought of Charles, beloved by so many, resting in an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere. The universe is a cynical motherfucker.
If anything, he hopes the man felt proud in his last moments, happy for all he’d achieved in his lifetime. Logan wishes he could be even half the person his mentor was. He always berated him to reach out to those around him. To you. That joy was but a breath away from his grasp, all he needed to do is let you in. He must’ve sensed how well the two of you would get along, how you needed each other’s presence as a pillar of support.
“Why did you keep coming back?”
The question renders him a little speechless. Memories flash across his mind - Rogue, Bobby, Storm, but mostly, you. The two of you had always tiptoed around each other when it came to feelings, at times getting enough courage to finally say something, but never following through.
You stand up, thinking he’s absolutely not in the mood to talk. You don’t blame him either. That’s the thing between you two - there was always some silent understanding of the other.
“You.”
It leaves him so quietly, he’s not sure if you heard him. He’s already looking at you when you turn around, something in your eyes he’s never noticed before. Tell her. If you want to be happy. There’s no reason to hide anymore.
“I didn’t want to believe it at first,” He starts slowly, “You kept… creeping into my life and I… I couldn’t stay away.” A smile, a genuine smile, appears on his face, one that hadn’t graced him in a long while.
“I’ve been around for a long time - more than I should’ve.” He continues, his eyes never leaving yours, “I always… felt like I didn’t deserve to survive. It shouldn’t be me, standing here instead of someone else. But you, being around you… made me want to try.” A weight forms in his throat, he swallows it down, “Try to live not just for you - but for me too. I can never thank you enough for that. For sticking with me, for trusting me, for letting me… love you.”
You close the distance, gently resting your hand against his cheek. He leans into your touch almost instantly, even that simple gesture is enough for him. But you don't end there.
"Logan... I love you too."
He thinks his heart stops, your admission knocks the wind out of him. The old man was right, everything he'd wanted was right in front of him. He leans into you, tilting your chin upwards and kisses you with a burning passion. All the pain he'd suffered sinks to the back of his mind, nothing but a shadow compared to what he's feeling at the moment. When you pull back, doe-eyed and out of breath, he realises this is it. You're it.
In the distance, he catches a smile form on Laura's face, her eyes still shut as she pretends to sleep.
And we're done! Always going to be a happy ending.
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phoward89 · 11 months ago
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Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika
Summary: You're the winner of the First Quarter Quell and you awaken in the hospital to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your bedside.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, um...trying to think of anything else.
Story Masterlist
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Chapter 1:
When the Head Gamemaker’s baritone blared out overhead, naming you the victor of the First Quarter Quell, you literally collapsed into a heap on the blood soaked ground from a mix of exhaustion and happiness. Your eyelids drooped and the last thing you saw before you passed out was a pair of peacekeepers coming towards you.
When you woke up, you were in a sterile white room. A hospital room. You had drips and IVs connected to you along with some monitor that made beeping noises. Blinking to readjust your eyes to the brightness of the artificial light, you surveyed the room only to notice that sitting in a chair right next to your bed was none other then the head gamemaker himself. Coriolanus Snow.
“What are you doing here, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You curiously asked. Surely he had better things to do then be at your bedside. Like being home with his wife. Oh and you knew he was married because 1.) He was wearing a gold band on his ring finger and 2.) You've seen a dirty blonde woman his age on his arm in a few pictures of Victor's balls and such in the cheap Capitol rag mags that get circulated around District 12 to be used as tp by the poor and destitute. 
Staring you down with his icy blue eyes, he said, “I'm making sure that District 12’s first victor in 15 years survives.”
His words made a shiver run up your spine. It was common knowledge that District 12’s first and only victor (until now) had mysteriously vanished into thin air a few months after winning her games and returning home. Nobody dared talk about her. Her name was lost to the wind; she was a ghost that nobody paid any mind too. The fact that the head gamemaker wanted to make sure that you didn't die unnerved you. 
Surely you weren't in that bad of shape, were you? Swallowing a lump in your dry throat, you croaked out, “How bad of shape am I in, Head Gamemaker Snow?”
“Please, darling, call me Coriolanus or Coryo, if you'd like.” The platinum blonde, who looked a bit sleep deprived in his wrinkled button up (as if he'd slept in it) told you. “I insist.” He smiled. 
Him calling you darling and insisting that you call him Coriolanus or Coryo made your insides churn. It wasn't right. Why would he be so informal with you. He was the head gamemaker, a 33-year-old man from the Capitol, and you were just a victor, an 18-year-old girl from District 12. You two shouldn't be informal with each other.
“Oh, where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water.” Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow lightly chastised himself while rising from his chair.
Crossing the room to a counter where a tray with a pitcher and glass were, he explained, “When the peacekeepers pulled you out of the arena you had collapsed from dehydration.” Pouring you a glass of water, he further explained, “Your vitals were very low and, in fact, you died once on your way here, but the medics brought you back.”
“What the hell? I died?...” You gasped, struggling to comprehend what you just heard. 
Head Gamemaker Snow appeared by your side and placed the water glass into your hand. A hand much smaller and weaker than his large calloused one. “Yea, but you were revived.” Sitting on the edge of your bed, causing it to dip, he motioned for you to drink. “I must have my Victor alive and well, so that's why I've been keeping watch over you, Y/N.”
His words should've made you see a red flag waving in the air, but it didn't. Maybe you were too young and naive to catch onto the true meaning of his words. Maybe they went right over your head because you were still weak, or maybe since you had a stalker back in 12 that you had convinced yourself was just a weird neighbor boy you didn't realize the true possessive meaning of Coriolanus’ words.
“Are you going to stay here now that I'm awake or?...”
“Unfortunately, I have to leave you here and go home.” He pouted. What the hell, he actually pouted? You had to admit that his plush lips looked very kissable when he pouted. Petting your hair, he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, darling, I've made sure that you'll be well taken care of by the best nurses that money can buy in the Capitol.”
What he didn't tell you was that he threatened the lives of the nursing staff’s loved ones if you so much as had a hair out of place. That was something you didn't need to know. Just like you didn't need to know that when he first laid eyes on you, in your best cotton floral dress; your hair pulled back with a ribbon for Reaping Day, he found you the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on and just had to claim you as his. Reason why, as the head gamemaker, he might or might not have screwed around with other tributes’ sponsor gifts and made sure you got a few things here and there that would ensure your survival. You had an innocence to you that he had the primal urge to consume. An innocence that was absent in the Capitol. An innocence and a beauty that he carved to have all to himself.
You just being you consumed him with a passionate obsession. One that he would act on soon. Very, very soon. He just needed to take care of his wife, Livia, so that he'd be free to make you his forever. But that wouldn't be hard, considering he was a master at making people drop dead from sudden food poisoning. 
Pressing a kiss to your hair, Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow, promised, “I'll be back in the morning to check up on you before I'm needed at the Citadel.”
“You have to wrap up the game stuff don't you, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You asked, even though you were sure he'd say yes. In fact you didn't even know why you asked that. Maybe as a replacement for goodbye since you hated that word. 
Last time you said goodbye to somebody it was your mother and she took off with some officer, leaving you with your older half-brother Rein to take care of you both. He was 15 at the time and you were 5. Safe to say, you never used the word goodbye again in your life. 
“I told you, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.” He reminded you, not liking that you were still calling him by his title. “Yes, my darling rose, I must make sure that all the paperwork is in proper order for your prize money and the construction of your house in Victor's Village.” The platinum blonde man, who you just noticed has bags under his eyes, tiredly told you before pressing another kiss to your hair. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he said, “You need to be a good girl and rest for me.”
You blinked at him. What? Be a good girl? And rest for him? Say what? Your brain was short circuiting at his words. Not just his words, but the way his baritone was both dominant and soft as he spoke them.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he simply said, “We'll talk more tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay.” You nodded numbly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. You went like your head was spinning, as if you had too much moonshine. Hell, what had your time in the arena done to you?
Coriolanus gave you a pleased smile before rising from his spot on your bed and walking out of your room; making sure to close the door behind him. It was only after he was gone that you realized you were in a private room.
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Coriolanus was fucking exhausted when he got home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stepped out of his black sedan. After you were admitted to the hospital, he dismissed his driver and drove himself there. He didn't want the man to be waiting around on him while he stayed steadfast at your bedside, plus he was more than capable of driving himself home once he saw you open your beautiful eyes. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be asleep for over 24-hours. 
So, sleep deprived, Coriolanus walked into the townhouse he shared with his wife, Livia. The townhouse was a gift he received from Strabo and Ma Plinth once he announced his engagement, but he planned on putting it up on the market once he took care of Livia. He didn't want to bring you to this house that held nothing but hatred and misery in it.
No, he was going to bring you to his penthouse on the Corso. Now that's a proper place for you to live with him. In fact, he'd be telling you about your new residence tomorrow morning during your visit. Oh, he was so excited to tell you that you'd be staying in the Capitol with him. Of course, he'd use the excuse that since District 12 doesn't have a Victor’s Village and it must be constructed that he's arranged for you to use his Corso penthouse during the construction period.
It was a great plan. One that was foolproof. He just knew that you, being so young and innocent, would view his offer as one of help instead of one of ownership. Or, dare he say, love? Yes, love. He was sure that he was obsessively in love with you. It was a feeling he swore to never feel again, but yet again one just can't help who they fall in love with.
He always thought that marrying for hate instead of love or even tolerability would give him power, but truthfully all it gave him was a headache and a bad case of blueballs. Livia was a heinous bitch and was a cold fish in bed. She didn't like to fuck. What the fuck? Who doesn't like to fuck? Coriolanus thought that was absurd, unnatural even.
That's why he had to have affairs here and there; then turn the whores into avoxes to keep their mouths shut when he was done with them. What? He was a man after all and had needs. Needs that he knew you'd fulfill without any problems. With you he'd be faithful because you'd be his mind, body, and soul and would do anything for his love since you were so young. All he had to do was show you how in love *cough* obsessed *cough* he was with you and you'd be his forever.
Unknown to Coriolanus, the object of his marital hatred (Livia) was having an ongoing affair with one of the male avoxes in their household. An avox that had once been an equal of theirs in the Academy and the University, but crossed Snow the wrong way with a question about the songbird from 12. 
Coriolanus wasn't even to the stairs yet when he heard Livia’s screeching coming from the front sitting room. Great…seems like the bitch was waiting up for him. 
“Coriolanus, where have you been? The games ended and you never came home!” Livia demanded in a high pitch scream as her fuzzy heeled skippers clicked loudly against the hardwood floor as she ran out of the sitting room and into the main hall.
“Don't worry about where I was, Livia.” Coriolanus venomously gritted out as he made his way to the staircase.
“You're my husband, Coriolanus. I'm supposed to worry about where you've been.” Livia shrieked while following her husband. 
“I'm your husband when I don't come home, but when I'm home we have separate bedrooms and you come up with every excuse under the sun not to fuck me.” Coriolanus spat back as he tiredly trudged upstairs, feeling a migraine coming on from his wife's nagging. Oh, how he needed to poison that bitch yesterday.
“Your tastes in bed are not the same as mine, husband.” Livia said, placing special emphasis on the word husband, while following him upstairs. “You're too harsh for my taste, but that doesn't mean you can stay out for days on end with some whore.” 
All Coriolanus could see was red, like a raging bull, after hearing her remark. How dare she insult his prowess in bed? He knew how to fuck a woman and how to fuck her good; he never had any complaints either until he tied the knot with Livia. Damn bitch, won't fuck him and then insults his ability to fuck. Oh, yes, it was time for her to go. 
She outlived her usefulness. Livia couldn't give him the one thing he most desperately needed. An heir. What use did Coriolanus have for a woman that refuses to have his child? After a decade of hell with his wife, he was ready to cut his losses. He had control of her family's bank and the Plinths fortune, plus his status as Head Gamemaker and Senator along with his position on the War Council was more then enough to make him a successful candidate for president once the elder President Ravenstill kicked the bucket. He didn't need her for an heir anymore, not when he had you (you were young and fertile enough to give him litters of heirs).
Oh, Coriolanus knew exactly how to make up for never coming home after the games ended with Livia. Oh, yes, he did. 
“The victor, Y/N, from 12 was in bad shape and I had extra paperwork to do.” He smoothly lied to his dirty blonde wife as he set foot onto the second floor of his townhouse. Turning to look at her, he gave her a fake smile full of fake sympathy and offered, “How about I take you out to your favorite restaurant for dinner? The one that has that red wine you can't get enough of.”
“Yes, I accept your apology and dinner invitation. Just don't do this to me again, Coriolanus. We might hate each other, but I'm still your wife and deserve respect.” Livia told Coriolanus before taking off to her room, her robe billowing behind her.
Coriolanus smiled wickedly as he retired to his room. Oh, after tomorrow night he'd never have to deal with Livia ever again. He'd be free to have you all to himself, forever and always.
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You were walking in the plains, tall prairie grass blowing in the wind. The deeper you walked in it, the more dread you felt. You couldn't describe the feeling, but you just knew that something was wrong. Then, suddenly, you heard a crunching sound behind you. Turning around, you saw the last tribute, a girl from 2, with a knife in her hand running towards you. 
You were exhausted and thirsty. The water you had been gifted from a sponsor had run out nearly a day ago, so you were feeling the effects of dehydration. You didn't know if you either didn't have a lot of sponsors or weren't getting any more water bottles because a water source was nearby somewhere, but you did know that it sucked you were dying of thirst.
But your thirst didn't matter now. Surviving the girl from District 2 did and you knew you wouldn't be able to fight her in the tall grasses. So you ran. You ran as hard and fast as your lightheaded feet would carry you.
It didn't take long until you were out of the tall grasses and on a barren field of cracked soil. You had a small pocket knife that was gifted to you, something you were sure cost a hefty penny since sponsor weapons were always pricey according to Lucky Flickerman’s game commentary.
Flipping the switchblade open, you turned around and headed straight towards the girl that had tripped and fell at the edge of the plains grasses and the dry bed of field soil. Lifting up your knife, you made to plunge it into her, only for her to look up at you with a sinister smirk and plunge her knife right into your neck.
Your eyes flew open as you screamed bloody murder. You died! You had died in your nightmare instead of being victorious. That nightmare shook you to your core. It frightened you so much that you screamed yourself hoarse, until your vocal cords were stripped. You were so frightened that you huddled in the corner of your room in a fetal position.
Nurses and other hospital staff tried to tend to you; get you out of the corner, but you just struggled and fought with them. You couldn't let them near you. What if they wanted to kill you? What if they hurt you? Your dream had shaken you up so bad that you weren't quite with it yet. You weren't in reality, you were stuck in your own head and afraid that somebody or something was going to get you. You were scared out of your wits. You were so scared that you cried. You weren't aware that you were crying, but the tear stains marred your hollowed cheeks like scars.
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Coriolanus had only been asleep for an hour or so whenever he was awakened by a call from Capitol General Hospital. What the charge nurse told him made his heart clutch painfully. His victor, his darling rose, woke up terrified out of her mind and curled herself into a corner, screaming and crying her head off.
“She's having a nightmare about her time in the arena. Aren't you giving her anything to calm her down?” Coriolanus asked the nurse  he was on the phone with as he sat up in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp to softly illuminate his pitch black room in a golden glow of light.
“She won't let anyone near her and you did say to call you with any updates on her condition, sir “ The nurse hesitantly told him.
“I’ll be right there to sign her out since your hospital staff are incompetent and can't properly take care of a victor.” He told the nurse before hanging up on her.
It only took a few minutes for Coriolanus to dress and rush to the hospital. Despite being exhausted, you needed him and he wasn't going to let you down. You were his and he was going to take good care of you. He always took good care of his things. He did like his things to be perfect and if they weren't then he'd make sure that his favorite things were mended until they were perfect. You were his and he'd make sure that he made you perfect once more. Perfect for him, to be by his side as not just his Victor, but as his First Lady. His darling rose.
Dressed simply in a fitted white shirt and black pants, Coriolanus ran up the stairs to your floor and rushed into your room. The site of you curled up, tear tracks staining your cheeks, wide-eyed and afraid pulled at what little heartstrings were in his too small blackened heart. You looked like a wounded animal and he hates it. You were his victor, his darling rose, his future First Lady and he wanted you to recover your senses so that you could regain your strength; be all that he knew you were to him.
He slowly approached you with his hands out in a show of peace. “It's me, my darling rose. It's Coryo.” Coriolanus softy told you in an attempt to let him near you.
Your eyes blinked at hearing his nickname and for some reason you nodded at him. As he crouched down next to you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, you clutched the middle of his pristine white shit and sobbed, “I died, Coryo. I dreamed that I died instead of her.”
Your words gutted him. A world without you was no world at all. Wrapping his arms around you: letting you bury your head in his chest, he strokes your hair while offering you the comforting words of, “Oh, my darling, you're alive. You're alive and I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again, Y/N.” You shook in his arms, causing him to simply ask, “You hear me, my darling rose?”
“Mhm…” You mumbled out, too afraid to talk for fear that you'd start crying again. 
“Shh…” Coriolanus shushed you like one would do a small, frightened child. “I'm here. Your Coryo’s here and you're safe. You'll always be safe with me, darling.”
If you were of sound mind instead of scared out of it (from the horrors he designed and put into the damn games) you would've ran far far away from Coriolanus. But, sadly, you were too scared and on the verge of a mental breakdown to understand how twisted the man holding you really was. How obsessessive he was; how wrong letting him hold you was. No, you were too afraid to realize that you were letting the creator of your nightmares comfort you.
Once your sobs subsided and you quieted down, Coriolanus pulled back from you so that he could tilt your chin up in order to have your eyes on his. “I was going to wait til morning to tell you this, but you’ll be staying in a luxurious penthouse while the Victor’s Village is constructed in your district.”
You nodded, only to squeakily ask, “How long am I staying here?”
“Oh, just long enough to build your victor's house. I suppose it'll be done by time your victory tour rolls around; maybe even sooner.” He smoothly lied. He had no intentions whatsoever to let you go back to District 12. You deserved more then the mud and poverty stained streets of the coal district. You deserved to be bathed in rose scented oils and salts, dressed in the finest fashions, fed the best foods, and fucked on the best silk sheets that his money could buy. 
“Okay.” You nodded, naively believing the lies of the head gamemaker. 
“How about we get you out of here and over to the penthouse? Hmm? I'll even call Tigris to come over and spend the day with you, how'd you like that?”
“I like Tigris. She’s nice and was my stylist. Always talked to me like she cared.”
Coriolanus knew that his cousin was your stylist. He's the one that assigned her to you after all. But neither you nor her needed to know that. No…. It wasn't important. What was important was that you two got along, especially since in a short while you'll be family.
“Tigris is my cousin; I'm glad to hear that you like her.” Coriolanus told you while helping you to stand up. “And she does care about you, Y/N.” He told you while leading you over to your bed. “Never forget that the Snows care about you. And that snow lands on top.” He whispered into your ear while helping you sit on your bed. 
You just blinked at him, trying to process what he meant. You were so tired and mentally weak from your nightmare that you had no idea that his remark was one of possession. Your throat hurts from all the crying and screaming that you did, so you weren't thinking straight. Infact, your throat hurts so much that you grab the glass of water from your bedside table, quickly gulping it down.
“Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick.” Coriolanus warned, much like a parent would to a child, while snatching the glass away from you.
“My throat’s dry and hurts. I need water.” You said in a pained whisper, side eying the glass in Coriolanus’ hand.
“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you scream and cry yourself hoarse.” He stated a bit coldly before lifting the glass to your lips and ordering, “Be a good girl and take small sips for me.”
You obeyed since your throat was aching. The small sips of the cool water seemed to soothe your damaged throat just enough to keep your mind off the pain. When Coriolanus felt you had enough to drink, he put the glass down on your side table. 
Petting your hair, he said, “I need to go sign you out at the front desk, but I'll be back soon to take you with me to the penthouse. Where you'll be safe.”
“Thank you.” You weakly smiled at the man that was now both your salvation and your damnation.
If only you knew what life awaited for you at that penthouse. Would you still be thanking him if you did?
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Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops,
@bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,
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b00kdiary · 1 year ago
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Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.
Cauldron Blessed | Azriel
Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader
Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'
Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.
Wrong.
He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.
Me, his mate- wrong.
It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.
I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.
Azriel, my mate.
Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.
And that's when I heard it.
"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."
I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.
They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.
"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."
I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.
"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."
"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."
"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."
She deserves better.
It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.
Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.
"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."
"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"
"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.
Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.
"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."
There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.
I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.
As if they had become a part of me.
It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.
Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.
And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.
I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.
I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.
Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.
My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.
I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.
And I hated myself for it.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.
And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.
He was here.
"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"
He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.
"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."
Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.
Another thing I couldn't bear to face.
"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."
As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.
His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.
"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."
Sweetheart.
A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.
"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."
My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.
I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.
"What does that mean?!"
I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.
"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.
A rejection- something he feared the most.
"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"
He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.
"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"
"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."
"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"
"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"
"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"
His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.
"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."
His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.
And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.
"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."
"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"
I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.
The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.
"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."
"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"
"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."
He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.
"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."
He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.
"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."
"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.
"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."
"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."
Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.
Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.
"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.
"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.
His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.
"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.
He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.
"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.
"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."
He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.
"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"
"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.
"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.
"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.
"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.
"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.
He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.
The Cauldron was right, so right.
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