#sorry I can’t formulate. thoughts right now

[formula-ghost]

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 1

SERIES SUMMARY: You’ve been best friends with Oscar Piastri since you were seven, far before the dream of Formula 1 even seemed possible. You’ve been with him from the very beginning—due, in no small part, to the fact that you’ve been in love with him since you were a teenager. But when a breakup and championship battle rattles the very foundations of your friendship, you begin to question if you ever really knew him. (Best friends to lovers, based on the song Wildflower by Billie Eilish)

WORD COUNT: 11.1k

WARNINGS: Oscar is not a very good boyfriend to Lily and Lily is not a very good girlfriend to Oscar. Potentially changed some dates (I think Oscar and Lily started dating when they were 17 or 18, but I’m making them 18 for the sake of the flashback scenes). Reader is “the girl he told me not to worry about” through no fault of her own. This story has a lot of complex character dynamics and everyone is flawed! References to sex but no actual smut.

A/N: Ah new series! I hope this is good—I’m trying some new stuff with the flashbacks and story layers, so I hope it doesn’t read too confusingly! Also, I’m trying to be more intentional with showing instead of telling with my dialogue and such, so hopefully that is an improvement. I always welcome constructive criticism, but either way, I hope you all enjoy this.

“Lily left me.”

He only needed those three words to convey the gravity of the situation. On the other end of the line, you were silent. He was too. What was there to say?

No, it couldn’t be real. Oscar and Lily were inseparable. The dream couple of Formula 1. Your best friend had been in love with her since the pair were 18, attending boarding school in the UK together while Oscar pursued his dreams of making it to F1. 

They were each other’s everything. At least, that’s what the world thought.

But you had seen this coming for a while now. It was just a shock for it to actually happen. 

Finally, after an eternity, you spoke, still too shocked to formulate a coherent thought. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean she fucking left me. What else do you want me to say?” You could hear the quivering in his voice, giving away the sadness behind his abrasive response. You weren’t offended one bit. 

“Shit, Osc, I’m so sorry. I… don’t know what to say. Do you want me to come over? Or you can come to mine?” 

“I’m outside yours right now. In the car park.” 

“I’ll let you in,” you said. The mental image you conjured of Oscar outside your apartment crying in his fancy McLaren would have been comical, if not given the circumstances.

He let himself in only a few moments later, hoodie covering his tall and muscled frame. He was soaked from the rain outside—he must have come directly from the confrontation. 

“Oh, Oscar,” you said, pulling him into a hug, cringing at the contact with his soggy hoodie, but knowing that there were far more important things to be worried about. 

You rubbed your hands up and down his shoulder blades that now heaved with sobs. His entire body shook with the fervor of his tears, and you just held him, gently shushing him and promising that everything will be okay. 

“I don’t know how she could do this to me,” he said, gasping out the words between haggard breaths. “The championship—I can’t do it without her.”

“I know,” you assured him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No it’s not, YN, it’s not gonna be okay. I love her. And she just threw away so many years.”

“I know.” You just kept assuring him, tightening your grip on him as his sobs became more intense. “Just breathe.”

“Why would she do this to me?” he asked. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

You knew. And deep down, Oscar did too. That was a conversation for another day. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming. 

You didn’t have it in you to lie to him. You had always been the type to pride yourself on being honest, even when the truth hurt, but you couldn’t bear to do it now. You changed the subject.

“Oscar, you’re soaking wet. I’ll find you something else and warm that up in the dryer, yeah? Just sit down, take a deep breath, and let me get this figured out.”

He sat down on your couch and took off his hoodie and t-shirt underneath, revealing his toned body. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before—you’d been friends with him since you were seven, growing up together. He almost felt like a brother to you, sometimes.

Maybe it wouldn’t be weird at all, except for the fact that you’d been in love with him for over a decade now. 

But right now that didn’t matter. He had plenty of old hoodies over in your apartment, which you carefully folded every time he forgot them. Placing his wet clothes in the dryer and setting the temp on high, you reached to the shelf above you and grabbed a random one. You unfolded it—an Alpine hoodie from back in the day, before his time at McLaren. You smiled at the memories that flashed in your mind, before quickly returning to Oscar with the garment. 

He had moved from your couch to your bedroom, holding a pillow on his lap, hunched over where the top of it met his chin. He was staring off into space, not breaking his gaze at the plain white wall.

You sat next to him, handing him the hoodie, and he mumbled a small thanks as he grabbed it. He didn’t put it on, instead just holding it with the pillow, as if filling his arms with the plush material would fill the hole now left in his heart.

“Oscar, I… don’t have anything profound to say. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond at first, instead just silently letting the tears well up in his eyes. 

“I guess I should have seen this coming,” he said quietly. 

You paused, unsure whether or not you should agree with him. But you were nothing if not honest.

“Yeah,” you said, “it’s been a rough few months.”

“I guess we just both fell out of love.”

“I mean… how did the conversation go?”

It would be stupidly easy for Oscar to lie and say he didn’t remember Lily’s every word. But he knew better, and so did you. As he explained, the memory replayed in his head.

“I can’t do this anymore, Oscar,” Lily said, a simple yet devastating statement.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” His confusion was genuine, much to the chagrin of his angry girlfriend.

“The fact that you even have to ask that proves my point.”

“Lily, talk to me. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Oscar stood up, now understanding the full gravity of the situation he found himself in. 

“I’m trying to say that I’m not happy anymore, and neither are you. I wanted to at least give it until the end of the season, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when we both know bloody well that it’s not! Don’t you want something better than this, Oscar?” Lily pleaded. 

“I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Don’t lie to me. You say that but you put everything else before me. I’m not a priority to you. I haven’t been in a long time.”

“I’ll quit F1. We can go back to the UK and live a normal life.”

“No. We both know that you wouldn’t do that.” Her tone was incredulous, twinged with a slight anger at the mere suggestion. 

“Yes, I would. I’d do anything. Don’t do this, Lily. Not now, not when I need you the most.”

Lily grabbed his hand, leading him to sit down on the couch next to her. “Oscar,” she began, “we had a good run. You made me so, so happy for so long.” She reached up to gently cup his cheeks and wipe away where tears were now forming at the edge of his eyes. “I saw you achieve things that neither of us ever thought were possible. But…I can’t stay any longer. Not when there’s no place for me in your heart anymore.”

You sighed. You knew every word that Lily had said was right. But you also knew you couldn’t get that through to Oscar, at least not until the shock wore off.

The words remained unspoken. You had been there for all of it. Lily was his first love, his only girlfriend, and everyone assumed that he’d marry her one day; you included. 

“I just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on acting like my life didn’t just fall apart. How did you do it?”

This was Oscar's first breakup, but you had been through too many, it seemed, since he was asking you for advice on how to handle them.

The truth? It was very easy to get over a breakup when every partner you’ve ever had was a feeble attempt at denial. When they all inevitably failed, you just went back to bask in Oscar’s platonic love. It was enough. 

“I won’t lie to you, the first one is always hell. You feel like you’re going crazy for a while. You lose hope that you’ll ever feel happier, because everything reminds you of them. And then one day it just…doesn’t. The only thing that heals it is time and finding love around you, you know, friends and family.”

“No offense, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

‘Well, I’m not going to lie to you and say it’ll be easy, because it won't. But it will be okay—not today, but someday. You’ve got something to focus on with the championship. And I’ll be here.” You gave him an empathetic smile. 

Maybe you weren’t the most comforting friend to most. But you and Oscar had a bond that was very different to most friendships. You understood each other’s idiosyncrasies in ways no one else could. So when shit hit the fan, it was always each other that you went to.

You continued, “You can stay here as long as you like.”

“Thank you.”

There was only one problem: your apartment only had one bed. And to the dismay of fanfiction writers across the world, you all would not be sharing it. 

You distracted Oscar by cooking a meal and watching a comfort movie—Cars, a classic. You could tell he was exhausted by the way his head on your shoulder sloped just a little too heavily downwards as the credits rolled. 

“Okay, let’s get you to bed,” you said, gently pushing him awake. He sleepily stumbled back into your bedroom and collapsed on the bed, almost instantly falling back asleep.

You took the couch, but despite the money you spent splurging on the extra cushioned sofa, no sleep came to you. 

It wasn’t any physical discomfort that fueled your insomnia, but rather, the events of the previous evening. Lily had actually left Oscar. She had finally pulled the plug.

Yes, in some ways, it was expected. But at the same time, you couldn’t imagine a version of your best friend that wasn’t madly in love with his girlfriend. 

From the outside, though, you couldn’t blame Lily one bit. You wondered what had been the last straw. 

You could think of three possible moments. First: The Apartment. 

“I’m moving to Monaco,” Oscar began, and you felt your heart drop in your stomach. Of course, one day he’d make it to Monaco. That was the dream of every Formula 1 driver, right? The beauty of the French Riviera and tax evasion. And you’d be left at your aging flat in the UK, waiting for those precious few days a year where he was free to grace you with his presence. 

“That’s amazing!” you said, only half believing it to be true. 

“In a few weeks I’m gonna go look at condos. Come with me? Lily can’t get off work.”

“Of course,” you replied. You’d already been to Monaco before for Oscar’s races, but you wouldn’t turn down any reason to get out of the constant dreary rain of the UK. 

You felt like a celebrity as you coasted through the Monte Carlo streets in the passenger side of Oscar’s McLaren, on your way to tour fabulous properties for your best friend (the actual celebrity). You breathed in the saltwater breeze, fresh and tinged with the air of wealth and splendor.

But it hurt your heart to know that you were helping your best friend leave. You imagined him getting up and doing his morning runs along the harbor, the sun blazing down the strained muscles on his back. Then you laughed to yourself at the thought of Oscar, the pastiest Aussie you knew, getting sunburnt. 

At the first property you met the realtor, who (after mistaking you for Lily; not the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last) took the pair of you to different condos throughout the day. 

Oscar decided on the final one you saw; two bedrooms, plenty of natural light, and a great view. Elegant, refined and practical—just like Oscar himself. 

The realtor handed him the paperwork and left as you stood on the balcony, looking at the beauty of the city before you. You were quiet, unusually so, and Oscar noticed. 

He sat the paperwork on the kitchen counter and walked onto the balcony next to you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice lowered. “You’re gonna make such beautiful memories here.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me now?”

You smiled and laughed. “A little,” you admitted, “I can’t help it. I’ll miss you all.” 

“You could always come with us. You seem to like it here,” he teased, tilting his head toward the edge of the balcony.

“You’d have to give me a raise if I was gonna afford Monaco rent prices.” You’d been running Oscar’s merch store and social media for the past few years, making a great wage, but nowhere near the immense wealth you’d need to call a place like this home. You joked with him, knowing Oscar actually had nothing to do with how much you got paid. 

“I would if I could. But, I mean, if you had a place to stay it wouldn’t really be that bad.”

“Are you suggesting I move into your guest room?”

Now he laughed. “No, but I’m just saying, if you had an apartment, you could make it work.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused, but trying to go along with the joke. “Well, sure, but apartments don’t just appear out of thin air.”

“You never know.” Oscar scratched the back of his neck and looked away, a sign of the awkwardness that now blanketed your moment on the balcony. 

“What are you getting at?”

“Well, theoretically, if someone were to have a spare apartment that they weren’t using, you could live there and Monaco would be a reasonable place to live, no?”

You didn’t answer his question, instead just giving him another confused glance until he gave up whatever he was trying to say. He still couldn’t meet your gaze. 

“Look—I don’t want to live so far away from my friend. Is that such a bad thing?”

“Oscar, you…”

“I got you an apartment.”

“You… bought me an apartment. In Monaco.” It came out more like a statement than a question, evidence of your shock. He reached into his pocket and dug out a key, holding it out to you.

You just looked at him with an incredulous expression. “Oscar, I can’t accept that.”

“Why not?”

“How much was it?” 

“I have more than enough money.”

“Answer the question.”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “About 4 million?” 

Your eyes widened in shock. “Before you say anything,” he began, “I made over 30 million last year. I have more money than I’d ever know what to do with, so why not just spend it all on the people I love?” 

“Oscar… I can’t, that’s too much.”

“Will you at least go look at it with me? Actually, I’m driving, so you don’t have a choice,” he joked, walking back into the apartment. “Let’s go.”

You sighed, smiling to yourself. There was no way you could let Oscar buy you a 4 million dollar apartment, but also, how could you not? The wind whipped through your hair as you rolled down the window of his McLaren, drinking in the beauty of the city around you. 

The apartment was smaller than the one he had picked for himself and Lily, but you didn’t mind one bit. It was perfectly cosy, and God, the view was spectacular. You could see the whole city from his apartment, but here, you could see the water. You stepped on the balcony and took a deep breath, taking in the sound of the ocean waves beneath you. 

Oscar followed you. “It’s a bit small, but I figured you’d like the view.”

“Oscar…”

“If you really don’t want it, I can rent it out. But I’d much rather have you close.” He held out the keys again. “What do you say?”

You could have told him you needed more time to think about it, but deep down, you already knew what you wanted. You took the keys. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Oscar. Seriously.”

“No need to thank me.” He smiled.

Back in the UK, he showed Lily the photos he had taken of the condo he had chosen for them as they went over the paperwork one last time.

He grabbed the pen to scratch out one of the boxes Lily had checked, hoping she wouldn’t notice. 

“Oh, did I mess something up?” Shit. She leaned over his shoulder, reading the paperwork aloud. “Please indicate if you own any additional properties in the principality of Monaco.” She looked at Oscar. “You already have a property there?” 

“Oh, erm, yeah,” he said, hoping the conversation would end there. 

“How come I never heard about this?” 

“Um, I just got it a bit ago.”

Lily could sense her boyfriend’s hesitancy. “Is this something I wasn’t supposed to know about?”

“Oh, no,” he said, “it’s not like that. I just didn’t think to mention it.”

“So, what is this property?”

“An apartment.” 

Lily hated feeling like she was having to interrogate Oscar, but clearly there was some piece of the puzzle missing that was causing his reluctance. 

“An apartment?” she questioned. “You got another apartment?”

“Yeah, I, um,” he looked at the ceiling while scratching his neck, a clear sign of his nervousness, “I was planning on giving it to YN.”

“You bought YN an apartment in Monaco? When were you planning on telling me about this?” 

His walls of defense had finally broken down. “It’s not a big deal. I made more than enough last season, I could afford it.  And it’s just easier to have her there for the brand shoots and media stuff. Plus, I mean, she came to London to support me after graduation, even though I know she hates it here. I just figured I should repay the favor.”

“...Okay,” Lily began, her voice tinged with skepticism. “So, you do realize what this looks like, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my boyfriend bought an apartment for his “best friend” and tried to hide it from me. That’s the kind of thing cheating husbands do in movies, buy an apartment for their mistress for her to keep it quiet.”

Oscar wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, the air quotes Lily placed around “best friend” or the insinuation that he had been unfaithful. 

“Lily, seriously? I’m not cheating on you, I love you and you know that.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. You know YN and I have been friends forever, it’s not like I did this for some random woman. I don’t appreciate being accused of lying.”

“But you were lying by omission.”

“Lily—”

“You know, nothing against her, but one of the reasons I was looking forward to this move was having more…us time. Without YN.” 

The statement brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Despite what she had said, it seemed like Lily did have something against you.

“You know, this kind of thing is why I was putting off telling you about it.”

“What are you saying?” she asked. Oscar knew he was tempting fire, but he didn’t care.

He continued, “You’re freaking out because I did something kind for a friend. I’m allowed to do whatever I want with my money.”

“I never said you weren’t, and I’m not freaking out. But I guess I’m just such a horrible person for saying I want to spend more time with my boyfriend.”

“If you’re putting down my “best friend” to do it,” he said, mocking her air quotes, “then yeah, that’s not cool.” 

“Oscar, you’re being so…weird about all of this. I’m not insulting YN. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“We’re literally going on vacation in February!”

“With friends. You invited your friends to our romantic getaway, Oscar.”

“You know I only have so much time off during the off season, and I’m spending most of it with realtors and accountants and eight thousand other people preparing us for this move. God forbid I want to invite my friends to Italy with us. Not everything can be just us, Lily.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m done with this conversation.”

The second next instance you could think of happened on the trip.

It was a beautiful getaway to the Amalfi Coast, your dream destination that you’d somehow never made it to.

The group of Oscar’s friends, including you and Lando, had plans to come and go, with everyone being gone before the fourteenth so that Oscar and Lily could have their Valentine's Day date. Of course, you knew nothing of the arguments they’d had in the past about this, but you had common sense enough to not be a third wheel. Oscar thought this was a good enough compromise. 

Well, he thought. 

From the moment he picked you up from the airport, you could tell that the energy was different than usual. He blamed it on jet lag, but you knew better. You knew your best friend too well.

It didn’t take you long to figure out the problem was between him and Lily. She was colder towards him; not enough for anyone but you and him to notice, but still there and undeniable. 

Even weirder was Lily’s…preoccupation, it seemed, with pointing out single and attractive men to you. It wasn’t a hushed reality that you were single, and had been for some time. You'd given up on dating a long time ago—you knew that you had already found the love of your life, and he just happened to be Lily’s boyfriend.

But, of course, you’d never tell anyone this. Lots of people were confused because you seemed so fine being single. But you thought that Lily, one of your best friends (at least, by association), would know that you weren’t really interested in meeting anyone. 

You sat with Lily in a restaurant overlooking the coast, the balcony having been rented out by Oscar for one of your last dinners. You all were waiting for him and Lando to join you, passing the time by ordering wine and appetizers.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Lily said, gesturing her head to your waiter that was walking back into the main restaurant. 

You didn’t really know what to say. You glanced at him through the glass wall. “Lily, he most definitely plays for the other team, if you know what I mean,” you joked, reaching for a slice of bread on the table. “I didn’t know that was your type.”

“Well I don’t mean for me, I meant for you.”

You chuckled. “For me?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you want to get yourself a hot Italian man?”

“I’m perfectly happy being single.” You tried to diffuse the awkward conversation, keeping a kind tone in your voice as you ate the bread and looked into the distance at the coastline.

“Oh, come on. We’ll get you someone, don’t worry.”

“I really am fine being single.”

“You know who else is single?” she asked, clearly ignoring your protests. “Lando!”

You laughed aloud. “Oh God, no. If I wanted to be cheated on, I would have stayed with my ex. Besides, Oscar would kill him.”

A curious fact: Oscar had never approved of a single person you had ever introduced him to. You had to spend hours talking him out of running over your ex with his F1 car after you found out about his infidelity. 

“Oh, who cares what Oscar thinks? I think you should go for it,” she said, watching as the waiter returned to pour your glasses of wine. 

“Lily,” you said, holding your glass, ready to take a sip, “I don’t want to be in a relationship, like, at all. It’s just…not for me.” You sipped the wine, but through the reflection on the glass, you could see that Lily had pursed her lips in an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“If you want me to stop third-wheeling you and Oscar, you can just say so,” you joked as the boys made their way to the balcony to join you. 

You didn’t know it, but your joke cut deep in Lily’s heart. 

Nothing was said about it during the dinner, but Lily’s strange energy continued. It quickly became uncomfortable how much she was pushing Lando and you to interact. 

And when you all made your way to a local nightclub after the dinner, it didn’t get any better. Lando quickly got himself lost in the crowd, and you were once again left to be the third wheel. 

You could tell that Lily was getting annoyed, but to be fair, she was also annoying you. 

“Go dance with Lando!” she shouted over the thumping bass. She gestured to the opposite corner of the small club, where Lando was currently making out with some random Italian woman. 

You pointed this fact out to Lily, who just grimaced. 

“Do you just want me to go away?” you joked.

“Yes!” she said, and you were taken aback, because she was definitely not joking. 

Oscar was at the bar getting drinks, far enough away that he couldn’t hear. To be honest, you didn’t even want to be in this club anymore. 

So you snuck out and began your walk home without telling any of them.

As you walked along the cobblestone streets, Oscar handed Lily a drink, pausing when he noticed that you weren’t there to receive yours. “Where’s YN?” he asked.

“She wasn’t feeling well, so she headed back,” Lily said. 

“By herself? Should we go check on her?”

Lily wanted to roll her eyes. “No, she’s just tired. C’mon, let’s go dance!”

Oscar obeyed, but couldn’t ignore the feeling inside him that something about this whole night had been odd. 

The next time he saw Lando, he decided to say something about it. 

“Hey mate, are you going back soon?” he asked. Lando nodded, clearly tipsy. “Can you check on YN? Lily said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Sure,” he said, annoyed at the mention of you again.

He did come back to the house soon, but with an equally drunk and giggly woman on his arm, the same girl he had been making out with in the corner of the club. 

You didn’t expect any of them for a long time, so you sat in the living room of the AirBNB, watching the waves cascade into the shore, romanticizing this complicated feeling that coiled itself inside of you. 

That was, until Lando stumbled in. 

His eyes got wide as dinner plates upon seeing you. The girl on his arm giggled and walked off into the nearest bathroom. 

“Hey YN,” he slurred. “Are you dying?”

You laughed. “I’m fine.”

“Lily said you were sick.” 

“Nope, I’m good.” 

He looked to the closed door of the bathroom. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“You’re fine. I’m…uh, not interested, anyway. I don’t know what Lily’s been on about today.”

“Oh, thank God,” he exhaled. You laughed, despite the sting of rejection in his relief. “Well, I’ll keep it quiet.”

“I’ve got headphones.”

You made your way to your room and put on your noise cancelling headphones, passing the time by scrolling and catching up on work emails, before falling asleep.

You didn’t sleep through the night, instead waking up in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was just beginning to round itself along the golden coast. You left your room to get a glass of water, not expecting to see the rest of your friends in the kitchen.

Lily looked hungover as hell, leaning her elbow on the counter, her hand resting uncomfortably on her forehead. Oscar was leaning against the counter on the other side while Lando sat at the bar next to Lily, drinking something out of a mug. His flight home was going to leave soon. 

You nodded to your three companions as you sipped your water glass, feeling the tension around you like an oncoming migraine. 

“You feeling okay?” Oscar asked. “Lily said you weren’t doing well last night.”

“Ah, just tired,” you answered. Lily had lied to both Lando and Oscar. That was a conversation for another day. 

“Well rested now?” Lily asked, her voice tinged with anger and fake sympathy.

“I’m fine,” was all you could answer. You glanced at Oscar, who gave you a knowing look. You had no idea what had gotten into her.

“Are you feeling okay, Lily? You look like you’re about to throw up,” you said, a more genuine concern in your voice.

“I’m fine too,” she said, clearly not fine.

Lando’s Uber pulled up, and you took the opportunity to help him transfer all his bags in one trip.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on with her?” he asked as you heaved the suitcase up into the trunk.

“No idea,” you answered. “Before you all got to the restaurant last night she was being…weird. For the record, I didn’t put her up to any of that.”

“I figured as much. You’re not the type.” Lando was right—it was common knowledge that you were happily single. 

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. For the record, it made me uncomfortable too.”

He exhaled. “Eh, we’re cool. No hard feelings, yeah? I’m sure she’ll snap out of it.” 

“I hope so,” you said, giving him a wave as the car disappeared into the winding roads of the coast.

Back in the house, you could hear Oscar and Lily whispering to each other. You wanted nothing more than to disappear and act like this weird night and morning had never happened, but unfortunately, you had to cross through the kitchen back to your room. 

A hush went through the room when you entered. You walked as quickly as possible through the kitchen, but were stopped by a voice.

“YN,” Lily called. “I think you should leave.”

“Lily—” Oscar interjected.

“I was just going back to my room anyway,” you explained.

“That’s not what I meant. I think you should go home.”

“Lily, don’t do this—” Oscar pleaded. You just stood in shock.

“Actually, let me clarify,” she continued. “YN, I don’t want you here. Go home.”

“Lily!” Oscar interjected. “Don’t say that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, even though it was definitely not fine. “Let me pack and I’ll be on my way.”

You turned and continued back to your room, fully prepared to do as you had just said. But Oscar followed you.

“YN, wait. Stay,” he said. 

“Oscar, it’s fine.”

“I am so sorry that Lily said that, but I want you here.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two or why she’s so upset at me, but if someone tells me to go, I’m not going to overstay my welcome.”

“Still, that was so rude.”

“I’ve got thick skin. I won’t cry myself to sleep over it.” You looked out the window to the coast. “Look, I’ll just find someplace else to stay. A hotel for a few nights is cheaper than trying to reschedule my flight, anyways.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, Osc,” you said, patting his shoulder. “Go talk to her, figure out what’s wrong.” 

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I already know what’s wrong. She’s mad that we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Then go spend time with her.”

“That was the plan! But, I mean, I’m pissed that she said that to you. And she spent all day yesterday trying to set you and Lando up, which was fucking weird.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled with a twinge of laughter. “Look, with my record I can’t exactly give you love advice, but I don’t mind leaving. You all clearly need some space, anyway. Just text me if you need anything, okay?”

Oscar gave you a flat smile and nod. 

You packed and quickly booked a private room at a local hostel for the next few days, planning to enjoy the last few days as a solo trip. You truly didn’t care, but in the back of your mind, you hoped that everything would be okay. You never received that text from Oscar. 

Back at the house, Oscar and Lily were alone. And neither of them were happy.

“Just fucking go with her if you’re that mad,” Lily said, egging Oscar on. He had always been slow to anger, but he couldn’t deny that he was pissed.

“What is wrong with you?” he questioned. “Why would you say that to her? Do you understand how rude that is? And not to mention the fact that you were being fucking weird with her and Lando all night.”

“Oscar, I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“No, I’m pissed!”

“And, as usual, it’s all about your feelings, hm?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t act stupid. Do you know how much I’ve put up with because I don’t want to hurt your feelings? Every vacation, every race weekend, she’s always there. And I put up with her because she’s your friend, but I don’t like her, Oscar.” 

“What did she do to you?” he asked. But Lily couldn’t answer. It wasn’t like there had been a specific incident or falling out; in fact, you had always been kind to her. Lily’s silence was all the answer that Oscar needed. 

“You knew that YN and I were a package deal from the beginning.” 

Tears came to Lily’s eyes. “But this was supposed to be our trip. Just us.” 

“Lily, they were only here for a few days. I specifically set it up so that we’d have 2 weeks to ourselves after they left. Is that not enough?” 

She was silent, at first. Then came a question out of left field. 

“Were you going to propose?” she asked.

Oscar made a face. “Propose?”

“I thought the point of the trip was that you were going to propose.” She looked away, trying to hide her tears. “I’m tired of feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. I’m sick of YN third wheeling, so I thought if I set her up with Lando, maybe she’d leave us alone for a while.” Her voice was tinged with an angry mocking. 

She continued, softer, “Oscar, I want to be your wife, I want to grow old with you—”

But Oscar had little sympathy for her. “That’s really what all this was about? Lily, I’m not proposing any time soon.”

“We’ve been together for nearly five years.”

“I know. But with the season starting soon—”

“There’ll always be another season, another race. Is your plan to just marry me when you retire?” The sarcasm had returned to her voice. “Do you even want to marry me?”

“Of course I do. But we’re young, we have time. I’m in no rush.” 

“I feel like you don’t care about what I want at all.”

“Lily, I’m trying. But I feel like you want me to cut off my best friend and settle down at 22. You’re asking things of me that I can’t give you.”

“Then why are we even doing this?” Lily asked.

“Because I love you, and I want this to work! But Lily, you can’t treat my friends like that. If you’re angry at me, talk to me, but don’t take it out on them. YN is an important part of my life, too.”

“I’m well aware.”

Oscar sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Lily announced, leaving the conversation altogether. 

When she woke up, her head was pounding. Oscar was asleep beside her, his back towards her, no warmth even in his unconscious state. She had slept through the entire day—the moon hung high in the sky. 

As she quietly made her way to the kitchen and got some water and a snack, the memory of what had happened came back, rushing over her. She felt horrible. 

The sleep and food had reset her mind. Make no mistake, she was still upset at Oscar, but what he had said was right—she shouldn’t have taken it out on you. She needed to make it right. 

She texted you. Hey YN, are you awake? I’d like to talk. In person, if you can. 

Only a few minutes later you responded, affirming that you were available and sending the address of your hostel. Lily got there quickly, quietly walking through the rooms to your private room in the back. When you shut the door behind you and you both sat on the bed, she broke down. 

“YN,” Lily began, “I am so sorry about this morning. Truthfully, I was upset at Oscar and I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have. I was so rude.”

“It’s okay,” you assured.

“No, it’s not,” Lily interjected. But she seemed at a loss for words. “I just… sometimes, I feel like I hardly get any alone time with Oscar anymore.”

“Because I’m always there?” you joked, not knowing how close to the truth you really were. Lily didn’t respond. “Look, if you want me to take a step back, I can do that.”

Her response was quiet. “Would that be too much to ask?”

“No.” But it was, in a way. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, but your expression gave away nothing. “I understand.”

“I don’t think he loves me anymore,” Lily confessed. You normally didn’t want to know the details of their relationship, because the truth was too heavy to bear. But it seemed cruel to cut her off. “I feel like he never wants to be around me, like he prefers his work and his friends over me. I want to get married and he doesn’t. He keeps saying it's too soon and he’s busy, but it’s been nearly five years! I mean, how long does he want me to wait?”

You felt uncomfortable, not sure how to comfort your best friend's girlfriend. So you were honest. “I don’t know, Lily. I don’t know what goes on in Oscar’s head any more than you do.”

“Yes you do,” she replied. “You’ve known him longer.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“No, no, no,” you said, wrapping Lily in an embrace as she cried. “No, he’s not. He loves you so much.”

“No,” she echoed. “He doesn’t.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You just held her. 

At one point, your phone buzzed, illuminating the screen. Some unimportant notification, but you noticed the date and time more than that. It was past midnight; Valentine’s Day. 

The third instance was during the first weekend of the 2025 season; the Australian Grand Prix.  

You hadn’t heard from Oscar since the trip. You didn’t really know what to say, and part of you was dreading having to speak to him, knowing that your mere presence was now a strain on his relationship.

Of course Lily wanted more time with him. It made sense. You were present at…most things, actually. But Oscar always invited you, and besides, they lived together. If you had known that you had overstayed your welcome, you never would have gone in the first place.

But on the other hand, you and Oscar had been a part of each other’s lives for nearly double the time that Lily had been around. It wasn’t a competition, but you couldn’t shake that sour feeling that rested in your stomach, that if given the chance, Lily would want you gone for good. 

Regardless, between the trip and the grand prix, life went on as normal. It was odd, since your job was literally running all the official OP81 media pages and merch website. You couldn’t not be a part of his life—you made your living by posting memes about him on the internet and organizing all his merch sales.

So, naturally, you went to nearly all the races to take photos of fans, the paddock, and the garage. It was one of your favorite parts of the job. 

But Australia was different. It was Oscar’s home race, and a place full of memories for you. 

Your family had moved to Australia when you were only seven, having absolutely no friends, except the sweet boy next door in your cul de sac. At first he was cold. You thought he hated you. But you were nothing if not stubborn. 

You remembered it like it was yesterday; for Christmas, you asked for a pink motorized jeep, just like the black one that Oscar—the neighbour boy, back then—had. You squealed for joy when you got it. And the very first thing you did was challenge him to a race.

He ignored you. So you rammed your car into his, causing both of them to break. Ever since, somehow, you’d been inseparable. 

Your parents traveled a lot for work, so instead of constantly going with them, you found yourself staying with the Piastri family for months at a time. Nicole truly felt like your second mom, and Hattie was the sister you never had. And Oscar was…Oscar. It was impossible to describe the bond between you. 

Your parents were never too keen on Oscar, though. They kept it quiet when you were little, but as you grew, their dislike became more outward.

He was 14, leaving for boarding school in the UK. When he told you, you cried. That’s the only time he ever saw you cry.

You wanted to go with him, but your parents couldn’t afford it. He promised he wouldn’t let your friendship die, and he was true to his word. When he got into the higher formulas in racing, he helped you get your job so that you all would never be that far from each other again. 

But your parents always said he was using you, stringing you along, exploiting your labor. Though you’d never admitted it to another soul, they knew you well enough to understand that you loved him. 

You cut your parents off a long time ago. 

Sometimes the fans were worse. Half of them loved you—the half that understood that you could give them access to your idol—but the other half of them called you a beneficiary of nepotism, a gold digger, or a homewrecker. You learned at a young age to develop thick skin. 

And it was how you both behaved on race weekends that really exemplified the difference between you and Lily. 

You liked to be everywhere at once—in the garage trying to interpret the engineers’ technical jargon, in the grandstands taking photos of fans, in the pitlane shooting the shit with the race stewards. You always wore Oscar’s merch, and you wanted to be in the middle of all the action.

Lily, in contrast, was more reserved. She always looked put together, and frankly stunning, at all her appearances. She preferred to watch the race from the comfort and privacy of McLaren hospitality, and when she did interact with fans, she was respectful but short, very conscious of her space.

Neither of you were better or worse than the other. But no one could deny that you were polar opposites. 

You got to Australia before Oscar himself did, having been invited to spend a few days with your surrogate family before you’d have to stay in the hotel, per F1 employee policy. Nicole had told Oscar, who you assumed had told Lily, and when you didn’t hear anything for a few days before you were meant to fly out, you thought everything was fine.

Of course, you thought wrong. 

You spent 3 days with Oscar’s family, relishing the warm feeling of belonging that you’d missed. The Piastri guest room felt more like your own childhood bedroom. Of course, Nicole asked how you’d been, but you were politely distant, wanting to respect the fact that Oscar and Lily’s relationship was none of your business. 

When the pair finally landed in Australia and made their way to Oscar’s childhood home for the night, though, things worsened. 

When Nicole got back from picking them up from the airport, you were in the kitchen prepping dinner. Hearing the front door close, you looked up and smiled, greeting the group.

“YN! What are you doing here?” Lily asked, her voice tentative. 

Nicole answered for you. “Oh, she’s been here since Sunday. I’m so happy to have all my kids under the same roof again,” she joked, turning to Oscar to reach up and pinch his cheeks.

Lily just gave a pained smile. 

You didn’t know what to do. You hadn’t talked to Oscar in nearly a month. You wanted to honor her wishes—but it seemed like her wish was for you to vanish into thin air. 

The rest of the night you were unusually quiet, trying to blend into the background. It wasn’t difficult for Nicole to notice that something was up, but she knew better than to bring it up in front of the whole table. 

After dinner she wanted everyone to gather in the living room and watch a movie, which you quickly bowed out of, complaining of exhaustion. 

As the credits rolled, Nicole leaned over to whisper to Oscar, “Is everything okay with YN?” 

Lily overheard and interjected, “She’s fine.” Nicole raised an eyebrow. 

Oscar responded, “The home grand prix is always busy for her.”

The answer wasn’t sufficient enough to crush Nicole’s suspicions, but she didn’t have any more time to pry as her son and his girlfriend quickly decided to retire for the night themselves. 

The next morning, as everyone was packing to get to the hotel, Nicole decided to ask you herself if everything was okay. But predictably, again, you just said that you were fine. And the morning was so hectic that she didn’t really have the time to interrogate you.

Once you all got settled and to the track for media day, work mode took over, and you forgot all about the tension at the Piastri family home. Though you quite literally were paid to follow Oscar around all day, you felt more like the paparazzi than his friend, hardly ever speaking to him.

And as you went back to the hotel room alone to edit and post for tonight, you felt like a stranger in your own body. 

You didn’t want to do this anymore. You missed your friend, but more importantly, you missed being yourself.

But what were you supposed to do? You loved Oscar. Oscar loved Lily. Lily hated you. 

You were stuck between three impossible choices: stick around and be forced to subdue yourself into a shell of your true personality until Lily decided she wasn’t upset at you anymore, lose everything you’d ever built by quitting and moving away like you knew she wanted, or continue being yourself and possibly cost Oscar the love of his life. 

Yeah, this was a wonderful predicament you found yourself in, through no fault of your own.

You moved like a zombie through the free practices and qualifying. When it was finally time for the grand prix, you assumed your usual place in the McLaren garage, for work if nothing else.

But then, Oscar won. 

No team rules. No convoluted strategies. Just Oscar doing what he did best.

You couldn’t hear your own thoughts over the shout of the garage and the crowd in the distance, cheering out for their hometown hero. You ran out with everyone to the barricades to greet your best friend.

Though he still had his helmet on, you could see the effects of his smile in his squinted eyes. He pumped his fist in the air, cheering to himself before running to the barricades to jump into the waiting arms of the crowd. You cheered with them, overwhelmed with pride. 

Oscar locked eyes with you, cupping your face with his gloved hands and pressing the top of his helmet to your forehead. “I did it, YN!”

“You did!” you yelled, smiling ear to ear. 

Of course, people took photos. Photos that Oscar posted later that night. 

Lily didn’t like it—the sweet intimacy of the moment, front and center on Oscar’s Instagram page. Why would you post that? It was like you were taunting her. 

Lily sat on the edge of the hotel bed while Oscar showered, both of them preparing to meet you, Lando, and a few McLaren team members to celebrate his win. 

When Oscar emerged from the bathroom, Lily asked him, “Osc, can you do me a favor?”

“Hm?” he murmured as he dried his hair. 

“Can you take down that picture that YN posted?”

“YN posted something?” he questioned, grabbing his phone. As his social media manager, you had access to all his accounts, but occasionally he’d post something himself, too. “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

Lily pursed her lips. “The first picture from the post she made an hour ago.” 

“Oh, this?” Oscar held up his phone. “I posted that.” 

Lily was silent. 

“Why do you want me to delete it? It’s a good photo.” 

Lily just looked at him. Oscar sighed and archived the photo. “There, happy?”

His tone was much harsher than he intended, but to be honest, he was getting tired of the constant fighting, and his patience was wearing thin. 

Lily kept quiet, just silently going into the bathroom to start doing her makeup.

In the lobby of the hotel an hour or so later, you awkwardly stood with Lando waiting for the couple to arrive. Once again you were torn—should you miss out on celebrating with your best friend on his first ever home win, or should you go and strain his relationship further? 

You were just going to say screw it and go back up to your room when you saw Lily and Oscar walking towards you. Though there was no tension between them, there was no love either. They both just looked…tired. 

Everyone had decided to keep it relaxed for tonight, just doing a nice group dinner with Oscar’s family. It was fine, albeit a tad awkward, because you were sitting between Lando and some McLaren employees you didn’t know, at the opposite end of the table from Lily, Oscar, and his family. 

You knew this couldn’t continue forever. Something had to break. And it did, when you and Lando ended up back in Oscar and Lily’s room, drinking your way through a bottle of nice champagne. 

The alcohol seemed to have calmed Lando’s nerves, as he was actually normal with you. And Oscar was a blushy, smiling mess and he and his teammate laughed at something you couldn’t remember. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but the mood was ruined by Lily’s drunken slurring. “Oh my God, YN, just shut up! Go away!” she giggled and grabbed Oscar’s arm. 

Usually, you were calm, letting any infraction roll off of you like waves on the beach. But the alcohol emboldened you. 

“Lily, what the fuck is your problem with me?” you asked.

The mood shifted, and Lily gave you a look of disgust. “I was just joking, God.”

“No you weren’t.” 

Lando chimed in. “Well, I think I gotta call it a night.” He got up and patted Oscar on the back. The two men stood up to walk out, leaving just you and Lily alone in the hotel room. 

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is with me, but don’t act like there isn’t one. It’s obvious that you don’t want me around, I don’t know what I ever did to you.”

Lily had clearly been sobered up by your seriousness. Still, she burst into tears. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.” 

You sighed, unable to keep your anger in the face of her cries. She continued, “I just… Oscar and I were each other’s first everything. First love, first kiss…first time. I love him so much.”

“I’m not trying to steal him from you.” 

Lily was quiet, and so were you. Something she had said gave you pause. 

They were each other’s first everything—no, that couldn’t be true. 

Because you were Oscar’s first. 

It had been many years—you were both 18—and you had never spoken about what happened. But you remembered. 

He came back home for Christmas from the UK. It was before he had even met Lily. 

You welcomed him home with an embrace—even with the frequent phone calls you had, you couldn’t help but miss your best friend, now here before you, in the flesh.

Neither of you could sleep that night, and somehow you both found yourself in Oscar’s childhood bedroom, quiet in the early hours of the morning.

Though it was warm outside, Nicole had a habit of keeping the house frigid, so you and Oscar huddled together under the handmade quilt that decorated his bed. The moment was tender and quiet, together in the soft darkness. 

“Do you like it in the UK?” you asked him, your question searching for a genuine answer. 

“It’s okay, I guess. It’s what I have to do for the races.”

“But do you ever get…lonely?”

He paused. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

You traced small circles on the skin of your leg. The closeness of the moment was uncomfortable. 

“But you have friends, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re not, y’know, friends for life.”

“I get you.” You really did, not having many friends of your own since Oscar left. “But you must have a ton of girls, though. They all want the cool race car driver.” You smiled, trying to use your humor to lighten the intimacy of the moment. 

“No,” was all he answered. “And if I had a girlfriend, you’d be the first to know, anyway.” In the dark of the room, you could only see the outline of his features, but you could feel the pull of his eyes looking at you. “What, do you have a boyfriend? Is that why you’re bringing this up?” he asked. 

“Of course I don’t.” 

“What do you mean, of course?”

“I mean, why would I have a boyfriend? I have no friends and half the people at school think you don’t even exist.”

“What?” he laughed.

“Well, yeah, when I say my best friend drives race cars in the UK, most people think I’m making you up.” 

“Shit,” he laughed. 

“So, yeah, it doesn’t exactly get me dates,” you laughed. You felt your throat stiffen. “I haven’t even had my first kiss or anything.”

The silence in the room was thick. “I haven’t either,” Oscar confessed. 

You found it hard to believe. Oscar was handsome, funny, everything a girl could want. Neither of you had ever been social butterflies, though. 

Under the blanket, Oscar reached for your hand, placing it in his. Your heart was beating out of your chest; you had never even held a boy’s hand. 

“We could just…do it now,” he said. “Just to get it over with.” He feigned his usual nonchalance, but you could feel the increase of his heartbeat and the ever so subtle tremble in his voice. 

It would be easy for you to laugh it off like a joke. But you knew it wasn’t. And you wanted him. 

“Okay,” you said, your voice breathy with nervousness. 

You sat up on the bed, and saw the dark outline of his figure leaning towards you, gently tilting your head. 

And when his lips met yours, it felt like home. Like everything in your entire life had left you up to this moment, here in the warmth of your best friend’s childhood bedroom.

The kiss lasted longer than you anticipated, but when he did pull away, it was too soon. You were grateful for the darkness that hid your expression. But even without the light, Oscar could see the truth behind your eyes.

“We could…keep going.”

“Okay,” you repeated. 

One of his hands found your waist now, pulling you closer, as his other hand pushed back your hair that had fallen in your face.

Once again his lips met yours. It wasn’t like a spark within you—more like a calming, a sense of peace and safety. Of all the boys you’d crushed on before, Oscar was different. You trusted him with everything. 

And you showed him so. 

He slipped his tongue past your teeth, tentative, as if he was scared to do the wrong thing. But you let him close the gap, your own tongue gliding along his, goosebumps going down your back the closer you got. 

He wanted to put his hands all over you, but he was nervous.

He pulled away. “I…don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t either. Is it actually your first time?”

“Yeah. You don’t mind me being your first?”

“I trust you.”

So you both took it slow, taking each other’s hands where you wanted to be touched, not focusing on anything but the other. 

The love you made was quiet and simple, beautiful yet imperfect. But you didn’t need perfect. You just needed him. 

The next morning, you slipped out of his room before anyone was awake, afraid of what would happen if they found out.

But no one ever did. Oscar never said a word about it ever again, and neither did you; after the holidays, he went back to school and met Lily, and the rest was history. 

But you remembered. And as you sat in that hotel room years later waiting for him, you felt numb. 

By the time he got back Lily had calmed down, but you couldn’t stand to be there anymore. You announced your departure, but Oscar decided to walk you out, too. 

You closed the door behind you, but Oscar pulled you to not leave so quickly. 

“Hey, is everything alright with you and Lily?”

“No. It’s not.” 

He sighed. “I don’t know why she’s being like this.”

You just stared at him, your face blank. 

“What,” he asked, “don’t tell me you’re mad too.”

“Was Lily your first?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” 

Oscar looked over his shoulder. “I’d really rather not talk about this in the hallway…”

“So do you want to go in the room and talk about it? In front of her? Because you lied to one of us. Which one was it?”

“YN, it’s—”

“Which one of us did you lie to, Oscar?”

He let out a sharp exhale, knowing there was no way to escape your line of questioning. He leaned down to whisper to you. “I didn’t lie to her. She just…assumed, and I never corrected her.”

“That’s still lying.”

“You really think I should go in there and tell her the truth?” His voice dripped with frustration.

“Yes. She deserves to know.”

“You know why I never told her? Because I knew this shit would happen, she’d get jealous and try to push you out of my life. If I tell her now, she’ll make me choose between the two of you.”

“Do you blame her?” you asked, astounded at how Oscar could be so clueless.

“Seriously?” he retorted. “You think she’s justified in doing all this to you? The entire reason she’s mad is because she knows if she tries to make me choose, I’m not choosing her.”

“Don’t say that! Oscar, she’s your girlfriend. You should love her.”

“I do. But things just…aren’t the same anymore. It’s like she wants me to change my whole life for her. I can’t do that.”

Unbeknownst to you, Lily got up from the bed and walked to the door, pressing her ear to it, where she could faintly hear you and Oscar arguing. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Oscar continued. “And if you don’t want her to split us up, just let me handle it.”

“Oscar, she deserves better than this. I’ve missed spending time with you, but… you’ve got to tell her the truth.”

Lily opened the door. “I knew it,” she said, her eyes full of tears. “I knew you were cheating.”

Your eyes were wide as dinner plates as Oscar cursed to himself. “Lily, I swear to God that is not what happened—”

“Don’t. Don’t even try,” she said, but Oscar pushed his way back into the room anyway. He looked back to you, and even without words, you knew it was time to go. You needed some sleep.

Unfortunately, Oscar would not be getting any sleep tonight. 

“Oscar, just stop lying to me! I’m tired of this!’ Lily cried, curling her legs to her chest as she sat on the bed.

“Lily, I swear, I have never cheated on you. What YN and I were talking about was something from a long time ago.”

“We’ve been together for five years!”

“Can I just explain myself? Please?”

Lily just broke down in sobs. “Do whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

Oscar sighed. “Look, I…I have lied to you. You weren’t my first. YN was.” He looked at his girlfriend, who was still just silently crying. “It was before we even met, and it was just once, and we’ve never done anything since. I would never cheat on you, I love you and—”

“When and where was it?” Lily asked, cutting him off with her statement more like a command than a question.

“The December before we met, when I came home for Christmas.”

“In your bed?”

He nodded.

“Oscar, I slept in that bed next to you the other night.”

He said nothing. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Haven’t I been good to you?”

“Lily, I promise, I love you more than anything.”

“Then why would you lie to me for five years?”

Oscar took a deep breath and said, “Because I was afraid you would be upset. People don’t understand that me and YN are just friends. I mean, we were raised together, she’s like my sister.”

“You had sex with her. You took each other’s virginity.”

“It wasn’t…like that.”

“How can it not be like that? Do you even hear what you’re saying?” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

About an hour after you left, you heard a knock on your hotel room door, and you answered. It was, of course, Lily. 

“Tell me whatever Oscar wouldn’t,” she said. Her eyes were still puffy and red. 

You welcomed her in, beginning to tell her the entire truth. “Oscar and I had sex when we were 18, before he met you. We never talked about it afterwards. After you met I didn’t want to bring it up, I just assumed he’d do the right thing and tell you. I didn’t want to pry into your relationship.”

So, your stories matched. And Lily knew that you were nothing if not honest. 

“Do you love him?”

“Of course I do, he’s my best friend.”

“No, I mean, are you in love with him?” 

You didn’t answer immediately. What were you supposed to say?

Tears fought their way to the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “I don’t know,” you began, but that was a lie, you did know. “I guess…I have a special type of love for him. We grew up together. When we were younger, yes, I wanted to be his girlfriend. But then he met you, and… Lily, he was so happy! I just…I realized that I wanted him to be happy more than I wanted him to be mine. So I made peace with the fact that this is how it had to be.”

Lily was overwhelmed with your honesty, in the face of so much deception. 

You continued, “I don’t blame you for being upset at me. Oscar should have been honest about what our friendship was like from the very beginning instead of lying to you. But I swear, we haven’t done anything while you all have been together. I’ve been cheated on and I know how much that hurts, I would never do that to anyone else. I’m so sorry it ended up like this.”

“No,” Lily said, “You’re the only one who’s been honest with me throughout all of this. Thank you.”

After that, you hadn’t heard from Oscar after that for a long time. Or, at least, a few weeks felt like a long time to you. But you had other pressing matters—your workload was through the roof with Oscar’s wins. Lando had snatched himself a win too, setting up an early battle for the championship. It was too early into the season to call it, but you knew Oscar was feeling the pressure with the possibility of his first championship dangling so close in front of him. So you kept your distance, not wanting to be a distraction.

That was, until he called you, saying just those three painful words.

“Lily left me.”

The sun was cresting over the horizon, illuminating the thick glass of your balcony and flooding light into your living room. You hadn’t gotten an ounce of rest. 

From your bedroom, you could hear Oscar snoring. You just let him sleep. 

God knows you both needed it. 

[ii-meeple-confessions]

Speaking of phones having trauma, I still really like the parallel of both 3GS and Mephone losing really important people of their same species (meeplings...) in their lives. 3GS lost his crew (3G and 2G respectively) and Mephone lost 4S and Mepad. And of course there were others that died because Mephone escaped in the first place too. I don't know, it's kind of just that survivors guilt of being the only 2 of your species to really... survive. Sure theres Mecintosh!!!! And some of the other supposed Meeplings like Mebook, but they don't understand the. Weird Generational Trauma of being a Mephone. Which is super interesting and sad to think about, the world REALLY HATES this one specific line of sentient phones 😞 -2G Anon

.

[erwinsvow]

knocked up too young and wearing a glittery diamond ring on your left hand, you had settled nicely into the role of mrs. cameron. it wasn’t tough, not a hard position to play in the slightest—rafe, or rather your husband—made everything nice and easy for you.

it seemed like it was his biggest desire come true, making sure you and his little girl were taken care of. he liked it actually, more than he admitted, knowing the two of you were fast asleep in bed when he left for work in the morning, doing nothing but relaxing throughout the day.

in fact, he had decided the second you had tearfully confessed that you were pregnant that this was the sort of life you were meant for, the kind of life he was going to give you. you were so scared, he can remember it like it was yesterday—your watery eyes and wet cheeks, the way your hands shook when you pulled out the test to show him.

“i-i-i’m so sorry, i, i thought the pills were enough, everyone says it’s enough-” you were stammering and crying your way into exhausation, something he definitely didn’t like. 

“s’okay, kid. nothin’ to cry about.” he was formulating his plan already, being proactive in all matters, thinking ahead to marriage licenses and car seats while you stared down at the positive stick in your palm.

“you’re.. you’re not mad, rafe?” the way you look at him, the world stops spinning. why would he be mad?

“hey, s’done,” he says, hands on your shoulders to steady you, bringing you to the edge of the bed to take a seat. he takes the pregnancy test from your hands, looking down at it himself. “it already happened. can’t take it back. no point in cryin’ over it.” 

when you look up with even more tears in your eyes, he’s half convinced he’s said the wrong thing—but it doesn’t faze him, he keeps going.

“hey, hey. what, you thought i wouldn’t take care of you? this is my kid too.”

“i know, i just, i thought you wouldn’t be okay.. with it. having it.” that’s the first and only time he got stern with you through this whole pregnancy.

“hey, don’t talk like that. this is our baby. there’s no question ‘bout havin’ it.” you nod up at him, tears drying as you steady yourself, regain a little composure knowing rafe’s not mad about this little accident. “y’okay now?” you nod again. “good, call your parents. tell ‘em we’re getting married soon.” 

“wh-rafe!” 

but, like how most things were with rafe, he called the shots and you listened. the two of you got married shortly after, before you were even showing. anyone who even attempted to comment on the hastiness of everything shut up the second rafe stared at them.

you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like it, a fool if you didn’t appreciate how rafe was to you.

he stepped up in every way, better than you could have even tried to put together in your imagination. a place was purchased and had slowly started to become home, with a crib that rafe assembled by himself—though it had taken hours and ended up with the instruction papers all crumbled up in a corner—and baby proofed cabinets and sockets. you laugh watching rafe try to install the baby gate on the staircase.

“you know that’s for when they start crawling, right?” you giggle, a hand on your very pregnant belly.

“shut up. m’being proactive. gonna have no time once she actually gets here and we’re runnin’ around changing diapers and makin’ formula and shit.” 

you’re only a touch surprised with how well-versed he is with all the baby stuff, though you appreciate it more and more since you’re still a little confused and overwhelmed. he makes it all easy, from the pregnancy cravings he runs around to find for you to the pretty pink walls in the nursery. he even satisfies all your other cravings, like around month six when there was nothing you wanted more than rafe's dick in every position you could think of.

when his daughter actually comes into the world, the two of you are a mess of emotions and thoughts, but there’s only one rafe really cares about. when can he give you another one?

it doesn’t take long for him to start trying again—trying to convince you that the two of you can handle two, that little kids need siblings their age. the baby’s only six months old but he’s convinced it’ll be better to have them all young at the same time rather than waiting—at least that’s the line he feeds you.

“no, rafe, they’re gonna be like irish twins. it’s so embarassing,” you say next to him in bed, staring up at your husband. 

“what’s that?”

“when you have two babies that aren’t even a year apart.”

“oh. that’s a thing? good, at least there’s a name for it. i’ll get you a book on it, since that’s what we’re doin’.”

and try as you might, even you can’t resist rafe for long, not when he’s taking such good care of you and just wants to give you another baby with his blue eyes and your pretty hair. you end up in the same position that got you into this whole situation—your knees folded to your chest and eyes rolling back while rafe slams into you. 

“don’t worry, baby,” he breathes into your ear, low and quiet since the baby’s sleeping in the other room. “i’ll get y’knocked up again. won’t have to think about a thing in this world except my kids.”

it’s a shame you get pregnant so quickly—rafe was so fun when his only thought revolved around fucking you full of his cum. 

“well, s’not gonna be irish twins. too far apart,” rafe says, looking at the photos from the doctor’s appointment.

“no, it’s just regular twins.” you don’t think you’ve ever seen rafe so happy.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

After watching a romcom with Tommy (who mentions offhand that nobody has ever romanced him like that), Buck activates his inner romantic (ie Season1Boyfriend!Buck) with one mission in mind: to completely and utterly sweep Tommy off his feet.

Tommy is this cool, confident and unflappable guy 24/7, and Buck has this need to see him blush.

Flowers, a candlelit meal, slowdancing in the moonlight. The whole shebang, and Tommy melts.

Im so sorry that this took an absolute age to get to! Lots of stuff going on and illness blah blah blah ANYWAY! Here it is, I hope you like it.

As Always if you have a bucktommy or saltommy prompt send to my ask box. Smut, fluff, whump.. whatever you want

🩶

********

RATING: T

TW: 1 use of the f-slur

WORDS: 2,432

********

Buck knew that Tommy loved a romcom. He liked lots of genres of movies, and all for different reasons. But romcoms he loved because of the fantasy of them. He’d told Buck once that growing up with a father like his, and then spending the majority of his adult years firmly tucked away in the closet, that he’d wholeheartedly believed that a true love or romance was not in his own future. That living vicariously through two people on screen, even if they were straight, was the closest thing he’d get to a happy ending.

He’d very much changed his mind since he’d met his Evan, but still Buck had been determined to give him all the romantic moments he’d missed out on over his life.

It started with surprising Tommy with a candle lit dinner ready when he came home from work.. Which ended with Buck being bent over the table as dessert. Not quite the emotional response he was going for, but hey who was he to say no to that!

Tommy mentioned once a book he loved as kid and Buck spent three weeks hunting down a first edition. He was certainly blown away by Bucks thoughtfulness and showed him immediately by getting on his knees. Again Buck was happy to oblige - he always was - but it still wasn’t the response he was truly hoping for.

He wanted to sweep Tommy entirely off his feet. Woo him to the point of breathlessness. Make him feel so unbelievably cherished and loved that he forgets out to speak.

And then the idea hit him.

Oddly, while watching Carrie.

“Man, the worst thing that happened at our senior prom was Mikey Jacobs spiking the punch. I still can’t drink Jack Daniels” Buck reminisced.

“Better than pigs blood, babe. Or, you know, the revenge by telekinesis.”

“True. What about you? What was yours like?”

Tommy sighed. “I, uh, didn’t go to mine.”

“Really?” Buck looked at him in surprise. “I mean granted you were secretly gay, but I know the girls would have been killing each other to get the Tommy Kinard to take them to prom.” The idea seemed to bring such joy to his Evans face that Tommy almost didn’t want to admit the reality.

“I appreciate the support, babe, but I wasn’t exactly drowning in dates with girls.” He laughed “I was 6’2” by the time I was 15 but I didn’t know how to build muscle or even eat right for my body’s needs. I went from 5’8” and over weight to 6’2” and skinny, which my dad just loved to point out constantly. I was super insecure and had zero confidence to ask a a girl out.” A look of sadness flickered across his face.

“Did people not go stag at your school?”

Tommy huffed a cold laugh. “Only fags and virgins go stag to a prom, Thomas.” He mimicked his father’s voice. Buck gently rubbed Tommys arm.

“I’m sorry you had to hear shit like that from your dad. You deserved so much better than that.”

“I know that now and mostly because of you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Bucks lips and smiled.

“Good.” He smiled back, already formulating his next plan to woo the shit out of his boyfriend.

This one took a few weeks of planning but Buck was certain it would knock Tommys socks off.

Tommy was surprised that Lucy had suddenly turned up at Harbour on what was supposed to be her day off. Even more surprised when she offered, nay - insisted - that she take Tommys remaining 24 hours of his 48 hours shift.

In the end their Captain had to practically shove him out of the harbour doors to get him out. He eventually relented and left for home.

Approaching their front door he noticed a note in handwriting so bad it had to be Bucks. God did he love him but the man’s penmanship looked like a doctor’s. A drunk doctor’s. Wearing a plaster cast. Thankfully after almost a year together he’d learned how to decipher Evans scribbles.

“Go straight upstairs.

Shower and get dressed..”

“Huh?”

“Don’t “huh” me, Kinard. Just do it. Then meet me in the dining room.

P.s: love you, Your Evan.”

Tommy chuckled to himself but did as he was asked and walked straight up the stairs to their bedroom. He was surprised, and confused, to see his tux freshly pressed and laid out on their bed.

After showering and dressing he made his way back down found himself knocking on his own dining room door for permission to enter.

“Come in.” Evans voice called from inside.

Tommy opened the door his mouth and eyes opened wide at what he saw.

The table had been pushed to the side wall, with a black cloth draped over the top, atop of which was a punch bowl filled with an orangey pink liquid. Surrounding it was lots of bowls filled with candy and chips and other kids favourite snacks.

A shiny disco ball hung from the ceiling with paper decorations swinging from the Center of the room and up to the corners. Twinkling lights hung all around giving the room a gorgeous warm glow.

And standing in the centre of the dining room, under the disco ball, in a tux that fit him so fucking perfectly was the most beautiful man Tommy had ever seen.

“What’s.. what’s going on?” Tommy asked not being able to hide his smile.

Evan took a few steps toward him and held out his hand. “Thomas Kinard. Will you go to prom with me?” Every time Tommy thinks he can’t fall in love with Evan any more, he’s proven wrong.

For the next two hours they do nothing but dance like idiots, drink spiked punch (tequila instead of Jack Daniel’s this time - buck would actually like to remember this prom), and snack on junk food.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he had let loose like this. Or even smiled this hard. Evan was by far the greatest joy to ever come into his life. He reminded Tommy of what fun was, what joy was and what it felt like to be truly unashamedly himself - something that nobody had ever made him felt safe enough to truly be.

Buck knew he’d achieved his task of sweeping Tommy off his feet tonight already, but there was one more thing he decided, last minute, that he was going to do.

Buck picked up his phone and searched for the perfect song, settling on Songbird by Eva Cassidy because it was on the soundtrack to Tommy’s favourite movie Love, Actually. He didn’t even need to do anything because as soon as the opening bars played through the speaker Tommy instantly knew what it was and pulled Buck into a slow dance.

They swayed slowly and silently for a few moments just breathing in the perfect moment with each other with Tommys arms wrapped around Bucks waist and Bucks arms around his neck.

“So, not that I’m complaining, babe, what with all the romancing lately?” Tommy asked.

“You deserve it.” Was Bucks simply reply. Tommy looked at him with a mixture of adoration with a hint of confusion. “You go out of your way to show me how much you love me and to do all these sweet and romantic things for me, but you deserve them too. You deserve to be shown how much you mean to me also.” Tommy was looking at him with those eyes again - the big bright ones Buck first saw right before Tommy had kissed him for the first time - and he had to use every bit of strength to hold back from jumping him, because he needed to say this before his courage disappeared.

“I see how you look at these little moments in the romcoms you love and I hate that you never got to experience them, so I wanted you to have some of them of your own. Our own.

“Plus, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to tell you just how much I love you. To tell you how unbelievably happy that you walked, well, flew into my life. To tell you that I have never in all of my life thought that I deserved to have someone so beautiful and kind and wonderful and just fucking incredible as you. And.. and to ask you to marry me.”

Tommy blinked. Did he hear that correctly?

“Wh-what?”

“I know, it’s.. we’ve not even been together a full year yet, and full disclosure I didn’t even know I was going to ask until like 10 minutes ago so I don’t have a ring, and-“ Tommy grabbed Buck either side of his neck and pressed his lips firmly against his. When Tommy pulled back his cheeks were wet with tears cascading over his beautiful lower lashes. Finally, Buck thought.

“Hold that thought.” He said simply before quickly leaving the room. He took 2 steps at a time as he hurtled upstairs, before running back down seconds later back to Buck still stood in the center of the dining room.

He lifted up his palm on top of which was a dark blue velvet box, opened, with 2 tarnished silver bands of differing sizes, each with a shiny silver strip running around the centre of each of them.

“You bought.. how long have you..” Buck could barely get the words out. His eyes kept flicking between Tommys beautiful face and the rings in his hand.

“About a month. Well, I ordered them custom made about 2 months ago but I’ve had them for a month.”

“Custom?” Was all Buck could get out.

Tommy pointed to the shiny part of the rings. “A couple of years ago I had this rescue and the husband of the woman we were life flighting was telling us about how they met. Anyway, he said that his family had this tradition of putting something sentimental in the band to give to your partner as.. sort of as a piece of you.

You know that piece of metal that sits on my desk in the study?”

“Y-yeah. It’s part of the blade from the first chopper you flew when you transferred to harbour.”

“Right. Well, it now has a little chunk missing.” He laughed. “Transferring to the 217 was the first piece of me finally becoming who I always wanted to be. You’re the last piece, Evan.”

Buck had this whole night planned - minus is own spontaneous proposal - and had wanted Tommy to be the feeling pleasantly surprised and loved.. yet here he was himself being loved so fucking beautifully it was taking everything within him to not break apart right there.

“What’s-what’s in your ring?” He asked.

“Well, that was.. a little trickier. And full disclosure on my part - Maddie knows because I had to enlist her help.”

“Okay..”

“It’s kinda difficult to pick something when your boyfriend loves so many things,” he teased “and then Maddie.. she gave me a little silver bracelet that she was given as a kid and-“

Buck inhaled a breath when he realised what bracelet Tommy was referring to. Immediately his whole chin began to quiver and tears fell from his eyes.

“The one that Daniel gave to her.”

“Yeah.” Tommy said softly. “She told me how he’d seen it one day when he was with your grandparents when he was 6 or something and insisted he give to her for her birthday.” Buck nodded, not being able to find words. “She said that this would be something that would be special to you because you never got to know him. Is-is that okay?”

Buck looked from the ring back to up Tommy; eyes completely blurred from tears pouring out of him.

“I.. this..” He could always find peace in Tommy eyes but this was all so.. it was overwhelming and.. he took a deep breath to try and calm himself.

“Tommy, this whole night was-was supposed to be about you.. a-and showing you just how much to mean to me and then..” he blew out another breath trying to center himself “and then here you are with the most beautiful fucking gesture, I.. I can’t..” The tears flowed once again and this time he threw his arms around Tommys neck and held on tight. Tommy, as he always did, reciprocated and held him tightly back.

“I love you so fucking much.” He cried into Tommys neck. Tommys own tears were flowing too, now.

“God I love you, too, Evan. More than I could ever even show you.”

“I don’t know-“ Buck pulled back with a laugh “I think you hit it out of the ball park with this one.” He gently thumbed Tommys tears from his cheeks. He looked closer at the rings.

“Are there inscriptions?”

“Only on yours.” Tommy replied, sniffing.

“For my Evan. Always.” Buck read out loud. Tommy wiped away Bucks next tears that came. They were the only type of tears he ever wanted to illicit from his Evan.

“I thought you would what to decide what to inscribe on my ring. Can I put it on you now?” Tommy asked.

“Uh, technically I should be putting on you because I asked first. Actually, you haven’t actually said yes by the way..”

Tommy reached up an gently placed back an errant curl that had fallen onto Bucks forehead and looked at him with those big earnest eyes again.

“Yes.”

Buck took the ring out of the box and slid it onto Tommy finger, then Tommy did the same with Bucks ring.

Buck gripped the lapels of Tommys tux and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed into it. It wasn’t a kiss that they’d shared before; this one was full of promise, of hope, a future - the rest of their lives as husbands.

Tommy pulled back for a second “By the way, I did promise Maddie that the second we became engaged that we would face time her. Where’s your phone?”

“She can wait a little bit.” Buck replied aiming his lips at Tommys neck.

“You sure? She might be mad.” Buck lifted up and looked Tommy in the eyes.

“Tommy, there’s only one thing I want to do right now and it absolutely does not involve my sister.”

“She can wait a little bit.” Tommy repeated wrapping his arms around his Evans neck and pulling him in for another deep kiss.

[cheolhub]

SLEEPING BEAUTY — LEE SEOKMIN ࿐

summary. seokmin can’t go back to sleep when he’s aching like this— it’s a good thing you’re always there for him.

wc. 1.2k

warning. consensual somnophilia, dry humping/thigh fucking, needy service top!seokmin, heavy dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of face sitting, creampie, weird position (lol) — MINORS DNI 18+

note. hi um i was on twitter and then i thought of this and wrote it in an hour. i want him so bad (not joking) THANK U SM TO MY LUVR @rkiv4d FOR BETA-ing. ILY <333

5:47 a.m.

you must be dreaming. fuck, you have to be, there’s no way you aren’t right now. all you can hear is seokmin’s attempt at muffling his breathy moans with your eyes closed. he can’t help it, though. such a poor thing– rutting his bare length into your panty-covered cunt as he tries to make himself cum before you wake up. 

but you realize you aren’t dreaming. that he simply is using your unconscious body to get off. when you stir awake with a moan, eyebrows furrowing, and his name slipping from your pouty lips, you then notice how turned on you are yourself. 

“seokmin?” you mumble, voice lilting at the uncomfortable wetness you feel between your thighs. 

he moans at the sound of his name, feeling his cock twitch now that you’re awake. he’s helpless when it comes to you. you don’t even have to do anything and you’re blessing his dreams with your pretty face and your whimpers of his name. you just have to lay there with your eyes closed and mouth slightly parted as your chest rises and falls rhythmically. you do nothing, and seokmin is in shambles over you. 

the power you hold over him has him fumbling over his own words. 

“f-fuck, baby.” he breaths. “baby, please– ‘m sorry… so so sorry–fuck,” his voice pleading and desprate as you feel him rutting faster against you, hands squeezing your waist tightly. “woke up so hard– kept dreaming about your pretty pussy.” he gasps out and you shudder at his words. 

he doesn’t stop there, continuing to ramble and ramble on as you felt just how hard he was. now that you were fully awake, it was clear to you what exactly he was doing. with his spit-soaked cock slotted in between your cotton-draped cunt– he was practically fucking your thighs, yet you could feel him. all of him and his glory pressed against your unbelievably wet core.

“didn’t wanna wake you. tried using my fist– angel, i tried.” he cries, digging his face into your warm neck. “but y-you… you were laying next to me so fuckin’ pretty, it didn’t work.” 

you try to imagine how beautiful he must’ve looked next to you. with a disheveled head of hair, his sleepy eyes drooping, and his hand covered in spit while he fucks up into his fist. an image formulates in your head and you clench around nothing. god, it’s a sight you’d kill to see. 

“wanna fuck you,” he murmurs against your skin. “w-wanna fuck you ‘n fill you up, please let me, baby…” 

you moan at the idea, grinding against him as you gush a wave of honey-like arousal, further ruining your panties. “seok…” you whine.

“let me, please. please, please, gonna make you feel good– i’ll even let you sit on my face when we’re done.” he begs, voice growing high-pitched in pure desperation. “jus’ lemme fuck you.”

at the incentive, you gasp, blindly reaching for the back of his head. you thread your fingers through the silky strands, pulling him out of your neck. you turn your head, smashing your lips against his, hungrily forcing your tongue into his mouth and moaning at the feeling of his own colliding with yours.

his face scrunches up, taking the kiss as a silent form of agreement. his hands grabs at your thigh, prying your legs apart as he lifts it up to access your core. he fumbles once more, pushing your panties to the side, temporarily freeing your glistening cunt from the fabric. you shiver, parting from his lips to gasp. 

he rests his forehead against yours, “can i?”

you nod, panting from the heated kiss. “please, baby… ‘m so wet for you.” your free hand snakes down, toying with your clit and moaning out his name with another ‘please.’

he groans, “hold your leg up for me, baby, let me do the rest.”

you comply, taking your hand from his hair and pulling your knee to your chest. the position is slightly awkward, but all thoughts and feelings of discomfort literally exit the room when seokmin guides his cock to your aching hole. he pushes in with a moan, feeling your gummy walls invite him in with ease due to how wet you are. 

“pussy’s so fuckin’ good to me,” he says with a cracked voice. “so, so good ‘n tight ‘n warm– fuck, my good girl.”

your walls hug him tighter with that, crying out over his size and the stretch. when he bottoms out, you feel the tip of his cock scraping against the sweet spot that makes you desperate. you attempt to push back against him, but the position doesn’t allow you to do so, so you whine instead. 

“deeper, please,” you strain your neck to look at him and he looks blissed out. though the sun wasn’t out yet, the dim moonlight that shines through your large window was doing more than enough to illuminate his pretty, pretty face. “baby, please. need to feel you deeper.”

seokmin loved when you got needy for him the way he was for you. it fueled his ego– not as much as when you praised him, though. his brain goes haywire at the slightest compliment, so when he delivers a few sharp thrusts, and you babble about how fucking amazing he feels, he’s immediately pussy drunk. 

his hand finds the one you have gripping your thigh and moves it next to your head, intertwining his fingers into it. before you know it, he nearly topples over you as he roughly snaps his hips into your ass. 

with your cheek pressed against the warm pillow, you’re crying and drooling at the way he fills you up deliciously. the tip of his cock hits your sweet spot with every quick, deep stroke he provides and you’re compelled to push yourself over the edge by roughly rubbing the pads of your fingers against your clit. 

“love this pussy, love fucking you like this– so fucking perfect. you’re so perfect, love you so much.” he babbles, lasting longer than he originally thought he would’ve. “wan’ you to cum for me. cum on my cock, my love.”

“l-love you!” you sob, pulsing over him. your velvety walls squeeze him as his words and his cock and the fingers on your clit push you over the edge, creaming and soaking his dick with your cum without a warning. 

he presses wet kisses to every accessible area on your back, neck, and shoulders. fucking you through your orgasm, cooing at you while he tries to keep his eyes from rolling back. he cries loudly, though, once he stills inside you, filling you with a substantial load of cum– painting your insides white.

he squeezes your hand tightly before collapsing, dick still inside of you and face hiding in the crook of your neck. you’re both panting, small whimpers leaving your bodies as you come down from your euphoric highs.

“g’morning, ‘minnie.” you giggle, breathily. 

“g’morning, angel.” he murmurs, words muffled into your skin. “thank you for that…”

“mmm, s’all good, baby.” you hum. “though… i do remember a certain promise involving me sitting on a special someone’s pretty face.” you squeeze around his cock again and he hisses. 

he pulls out and untangles himself from you before laying flat on his back with a grin on his face. 

“mhm, come ride my face, angel.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[espace--positif]

careless // a vampire!Geto x vampire hunter!Reader fic

Summary: Bounty hunting was a lucrative gig, especially when it came to creatures of the night, so you were ready to pay any price in exchange for the handsome stranger’s graciousness. Or so you thought. WC: ~3.5k Content tags: 18+, mild coercion/manipulation, vampire!Geto, vampire hunter!Reader, spicy biting and blood drinking

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

A frigid wind buffeted you as you dashed through alley after alley, the small passages seemingly never-ending. You didn’t need to look back to know that you were still being chased, the scent of fresh blood oozing from your thigh acting as a beacon for the unrelenting creatures at your tail. You’d inadvertently let yourself be cornered at the outskirts of town, and with less buildings to cover you, they’d be able to close in and devour you in no time. It was now or never. Stifling heavy breaths, you dipped into a large decrepit structure, one of many which littered the Eastern road, by the cemetery. Hiding wouldn’t deter them from your scent, but at the very least, you’d have more time to formulate a plan. Or die trying.

You gripped your gun tightly as you scurried as quietly as you could through the building’s dark hallways, unsure of where you were headed. The building was clearly once lavish, with strips of tattered silks, red and purple and what was once a rich cerulean, lining the walls and carpeting the half-rotted hardwood. But you didn’t have the time or luxury to admire the decor right now. You stopped in your tracks when a door at the end of a narrow hall, seemingly untouched by decay, caught your attention. You hesitated for but a moment before the distant sound of crashing glass resonated through the halls; you’d already been found. The sharp sting in your thigh, a reminder of your carelessness and impending demise if you continued to be careless, urged you on and you dipped into the thankfully unlocked room, slamming the door behind you.

Your eyes adjusting to the moonlit dark, you blindly reached around for something to barricade the door with. But your endeavor was cut short by a low, feathery voice resounding in the darkness.

“Who’s there?”

You froze, as if your stillness would help you disappear. Before you could even think about leaving, a match crackled, and soft candlelight revealed the voice’s source. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. Before you stood a tall man, the outline of his lean muscles visible even through the tailored shirt and waistcoat he wore. Sharp eyes scrutinized you from behind thin spectacles, a narrow eyebrow raised inquisitively. Strands of dark, long hair framed his sharp features, ever so slightly softened by the candle’s glow. His flawless skin shone in the moonlight that filtered in through the small circular window behind him. He was almost ethereal.

You stared for a bit too long before you spoke. “I’m sorry. Didn’t think there was anyone here. I’ll leave.”

Your voice came out hoarse, and you quickly turned away, eager to leave this awkward situation. He’d surely noticed you gawk at him, which made your intrusion all the more out of place.

“Wait.”

You froze for the second time tonight, hand tightly gripping the half-turned doorknob.

“No, I’m being chased,” you replied over your shoulder. “I can’t risk bringing them to you.”

His eyes slowly trailed your form, lingering on the cut on your thigh.

“Look, I’m a physician,” he sighed. “Let me take a look at that wound, so that you can stand a fighting chance out there. You’re a vampire hunter, right?”

The man was sharp, and his eyesight was clearly even sharper, what with how he’d pinpointed your injury even in the dark.

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll do it quickly. Come now.”

He beckoned you with his free hand, then began lighting more candles, setting them down on the large wooden desk that you could now see standing between the two of you. As the room slowly lit up, you considered letting him help you. Besides, there was only one point of entry in this room, so if your pursuers did manage to track you all the way here, you could easily dispatch them with a few silver bullets, and no one else would be hurt. Two birds, one stone. So you carefully nodded and approached, the tension in your shoulders slowly beginning to release.

As he busied himself gathering vials from stacked shelves and packed drawers, the man introduced himself as Geto Suguru, a physician and chemist who’d traveled here to further his research on a cure. An admirable mission, but a dangerous one. You introduced yourself as well, but not before voicing your concerns over his proximity to known vampire territory. This was no place for a physician —  no matter how well versed he was on the affliction, dealing with a famished vampire at your throat was a different story.

“I know how to handle myself,” Suguru said in response to your concerns, a charming smile lighting up his face as he walked towards you, supplies in hand. “Please, sit.”

He pointed to a deep velvet chaise nestled against the wall. You acquiesced and unhooked your belt and gun holster, placing them on the floor so that your injury was unobstructed, but still close enough in case you needed to arm up quickly. He leaned down, setting one knee on the ground, then carefully ripped at the tear in your trousers, causing you to wince.

“So how did this happen?”

Suguru worked deftly, pouring a slew of concoctions onto the laceration on your thigh, each stinging more than the last, as you recounted how you’d been cornered while hunting one of the most prolific vampires in this part of the country, finding nothing but his lackeys and a nasty ambush waiting for you. One of them had gotten the jump on you, slashing at you with his sharp talons, and so you’d fled, woefully outnumbered.

“A seasoned hunter like yourself should know that it’s unwise to hunt on Hallow’s Eve.” The cold touch of his fingers brushed the skin of your thigh as he wrapped weaved cotton around it, sending goosebumps cascading across your skin.

“It’s precisely because it’s Hallow’s Eve that I’m out there,” you said as you shifted. “Some of the biggest players only show themselves on this one night. One chance, once a year. I can’t miss it.”

“And the bounties are worth it?” Suguru looked up at you, a slight glint in his amethyst eyes. “Risking your life, I mean.”

“It’s worth it if it means I can end their reigns of terror,” you replied earnestly. “Save at least one person from falling victim to these monsters. And besides, I’m careful.”

Suguru laughed, a low chuckle filled with mirth. You raised an eyebrow, wondering what was so humorous about your response, but before you could retort, he was already pulling away.

“All patched up,” he said as he stood, lightly dusting off his trousers. He offered you no more words, instead gathering the remnants of his supplies and putting them away. The ghost of his lingering touch tickled your skin still.

You stood up, mildly perplexed at the bizarre interaction but thankful for the help nonetheless.

“Thank you,” you offered absently as you scanned the oak floor for your belt. You could’ve sworn you’d dumped it right next to your seat, but it wasn’t there anymore.

You blinked, and Geto Suguru, who you swore was tidying up vials at the other end of the room mere moments ago, stood before you once more. You were once again frozen under his piercing gaze, your mind struggling to register his presence.

“You’re not going to offer me anything in repayment?”

Yes, he had quite literally appeared in front of you, and he was now standing between yourself and the door. But that was impossible. You chalked it up to your frayed nerves as you laughed nervously.

“Of course,” you replied, fishing out a small coin purse from your coat pocket. “You’ve really helped me out. Name your price.”

Bounty hunting was a lucrative gig, especially when it came to creatures of the night, so you were ready to pay any price in exchange for the handsome stranger’s graciousness.

Or so you thought.

“Hmm,” he purred, inching closer. You instinctively inched back. Something had shifted in his demeanor, his narrowed eyes and thin smile betraying something different. Something otherworldly. “No, I’ve no interest in your coin.”

Clang. Your back had slammed into the shelf at the opposite side of the room, sending vials and bottles hurtling against each other and onto the floor. He paid it no mind as his slender fingers gently grazed the side of your face, trailing down to your neck. You sucked in a sharp breath, the same primal fear that had animated you through your back alley pursuit rearing its ugly head once more. Your heart dropped, and your coin purse dropped to the floor along with it.

You’d been careless for the second time tonight. After all, he was nothing like your usual prey, whose hunger and beasthood made them predictable, animalistic, and easy to differentiate from humans. From people like you. You’d been disarmed by his calm demeanor, his ethereal beauty, his generosity… But you should have known. It all made sense now; his unexplained presence in such a dangerous area, his pristine, if not opulent, quarters, nestled deep in this decrepit mansion, the way he’d sussed out your injury in near-crepuscular dark.

Geto Suguru was a vampire. He was the very thing you hunted for a living, the very thing that had relentlessly hunted you tonight, and you knew exactly what he wanted as payment.

“No,” you answered the unspoken question between hitched breaths, hand reaching for your gun but finding nothing but empty space. Strike three.

“Calm down,” he said in a voice that was almost soothing. “If I wanted to kill you, I could’ve done it ten times over.”

“Then what the hell are you doing right now?” you spat, failing to conceal the shakiness in your voice.

“You know my kind as beastly and uncivilized,” he replied, and you felt the sharp tip of a nail scratch at the skin of your neck. It tingled all the same. “But I’m more of a transactional creature myself. I won’t drain you. I simply want… a sample. For the services I’ve rendered.”

The realization that you were painfully cornered, the pressure of his hand on your neck, and the way the candlelight illuminated his sublime face as he towered over you made it difficult to think straight, but you tried to weigh your options regardless. He was right — he’d had ample opportunity to kill you, and besides, what kind of vampire patched up their prey’s wounds before consuming them whole? The alternative was to try and go head to head with him, unarmed and injured, which would undoubtedly seal your fate.

A smug look lit up his sharp features as he patiently awaited your answer. Your heartbeat, now a raucous thundering in your chest, was pounding in your neck, and he could feel it, relish in it, you were sure. You steeled yourself and gave what you’d convinced yourself was the logical answer, ignoring the slight rush that this absurd situation had stirred within your depths. It was adrenaline and nothing more, you told yourself.

“Fine,” you said, voice shuddering. “If it means you’ll let me go, then… fine.”

Instantly, something in him shifted, and his eyes, so close to your own, lit up with something unknown. He pulled the spectacles from the bridge of his nose and tossed them behind his shoulder without a care for where they landed. If Suguru had been holding back, then your permission had been the key to the floodgates, and you quivered in trepidation of what would flow through. He let out a ragged sigh and lowered his head down to the crook of your neck, burying the impossibly soft skin of his face into you, his large hand softly gripping your shoulder. You shivered in response, the cool and soft sensation traveling down your spine and into your core. The hammering of your heart reached your ears, until it was your only companion other than the warm, uneven breaths Suguru exhaled into your neck.

The next sensation you felt was an intense sting, sharp daggers piercing through the skin of your neck with a sickening crunch. A small whimper escaped your lips, and you instinctively reached out, a desperate hand finding purchase on Suguru’s firm chest while the other clenched at the low shelves at your back for balance.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the blood rush from your head, a pulsating staccato resounding in your veins, punctuated by Suguru’s greedy gulps. The sensation was overwhelming, and light tremors shook your body in response. This was wrong.

As if he could read your mind, Suguru suddenly pulled away, and you stared in awe at the sight before you. Crimson blood, your blood, painted his face, mixing with the icy hues of moonlight that illuminated his visage as he stood, lazily wiping at the corners of his lips with the back of his hand. Strands of hair, earlier neatly parted, fell untamed and wild, almost obscuring his eyes, now dark with hunger. You’d never seen anything more terrifying, nor anything more beautiful. The room fell silent save for your breaths, ragged and shallow.

“What do you take me for?” he said suddenly, in a half-whisper.

Your racing mind failed to formulate an answer before he continued, “Do you think me cruel?”

You narrowed your eyes at Suguru’s inscrutable expression before answering earnestly.

“I don’t know.” It came out breathy and uncertain. “I don’t know.”

You normally would have taken this opportunity to make a move, to try and run, to do anything, yet you stood still, the tingling rush that traversed your body serving as a wall that seemed to block all rational thought. You were in so deep, in a hole of your own making, for all intents and purposes, that your instincts were slowly beginning to betray you, and you didn’t feel the need to claw your way out.

For if he truly was so cruel, so deserving of a silver bullet to the temple as you’d rationalized all vampires were, then why was he looking at you with… was it compassion?

Rivulets of warm blood trickled through the fingers you’d brought to your neck, a stark reminder of what Suguru’s compassion looked like.

He sighed, and it came out a low and impatient groan, as he undid the button on his sleeve and folded it up, exposing his forearm. You looked on, wide-eyed, as he sank sharp canines into his own wrist, letting a small stream of blood flow freely.

“You must really hate my kind, little hunter,” he murmured before extending his dripping wrist until it was inches away from your lips. The thin skin covering his bulging veins seemed to glow under the moonlight, and you gulped.

“Believe it or not, I don’t enjoy when my companions squirm,” he continued, a thin smile adorning his lips. He flexed his wrist outwards, beckoning you. “This will make your experience… better.”

You’d heard about something like this — in fact, there were those who regularly risked their lives for but a taste of vampire blood, which was rumored to carry within it all kinds of healing properties, curing all ailments from minor anxieties of the mind to irreparable conditions of the body. Some even claimed that drinking it was the key to immortality. For all you knew, it was a myth, as you’d never heard of anyone who’d deliberately sought out vampires to this end and who’d actually lived to tell the tale.

Your heartbeat, which you’d managed to quell just moments ago, picked back up once more as you stared at the crimson liquid. This was a terrible idea. Or was it? This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. You’d met the one vampire who wouldn’t be leaving you a drained husk at the end of your encounter, if his words were to be believed. And he was offering you something you’d never have access to otherwise.

You could be the first to live to tell the tale.

“You’ve trusted me so far,” Suguru whispered against your ear, echoing the coaxing voice in your mind. “What harm is there in going a little further?”

Your hands moved before your thoughts could catch up, an exhilarating tension animating you. You’d later blame the blood loss for your reckless abandon, but for now, you grabbed at Suguru’s exposed wrist with both hands and drank.

Oh, how you drank.

It tasted like nectar, sweet and bitter and deadly and forbidden. Your grip on his arm tightened as he made a motion to pull away, and he let you indulge for a few more seconds before breaking away more forcefully. Through the thickening haze that threatened your every sense, you could see the self-satisfaction that adorned Suguru’s face, lips stretched into a smug grin. You could only imagine the sight you’d become, a hunter gone blood-drunk on her enemy’s very own supply, but you didn’t really care, your eyes instead lingering on his lips, still glistening deep red with blood. Your blood, and now his too.

Before you knew it, you pressed your lips against his, your frantic fingers intertwining with silky strands of his hair, moving in fervent circles. His lips softly parted in response, and his hands cupped the nape of your neck just as needily as he joined you in a desperate dance. The fleeting taste of his blood on your tongue —  or was it your blood on his tongue? — lit your skin on fire. It tingled and fizzled and burned until your nerve endings were transmitting nothing but a muddled mess of unexplainable, unimaginable sensations.

Without warning, Suguru pulled his lips away from yours and met your gaze, pupils dilated in feverish thirst — a thirst you’d truly understood for the first time today — then dove back into your neck, warm tongue lapping at the freely flowing liquid before his fangs sank deep within you, deeper than they had before, deeper than you thought possible. This time, it was painless, and nothing had ever felt more right. Your mind was floating in a delicious haze, and you were only distantly aware of the strong hands that roughly stroked and squeezed at your neck and waist, of the low groans that escaped Suguru’s lips when he’d stop to take a breath, of the candlelight that melded with the moonlight, both dancing across the walls like the flowing ripples of an untamed river.

It could have been minutes, or it could have been years — time had lost all meaning — before Suguru extricated himself from your neck, just as a nebulous darkness had begun to dance at the edges of your vision. Words had evidently lost all meaning too, as your hand unsteadily moved to grip at his exposed wrist once more, enticing droplets of his blood pattering onto the floor in a blur. It was all you could think about, now that he’d severed the inexorable connection between you.

An iron grip curling around your wrist stopped you in your tracks, and you were regrettably no match for Suguru’s otherworldly strength, especially not in your current state. The sight of him, your blood covering his mouth and chin and marring his pristine clothes, scarlet spreading across the white of his shirt, did nothing to quell the flames of desire within you.

“No. Too much and you’ll turn,” were the first words he spoke, and the sound of his voice seemed to jolt you back to a semblance of reality. Slowly, your mind registered the cool chill flowing in through the window, then the warm, slick trickle of blood traveling down your neck and chest, followed by the weighty exhaustion that suddenly settled in your bones. You would have crumbled to the floor if not for Suguru’s gentle hands guiding you to sit on the floor instead.

Your thoughts were still swimming, an incomprehensible mess of memories and sensations you desperately tried to cling to — it was not unlike trying to remember a dream upon waking, and finding that it is getting away from you, soon to be lost forevermore. A velvety blanket was suddenly draped around you, and you met Suguru’s gaze as he leaned down, your eyes firing away a million questions that your mouth couldn’t form into words quite yet.

“As much as I think you’d enjoy spending an eternity here with me, little hunter,” Suguru began with the same disarming smile he’d flashed at you when you’d first entered the room, sharply contrasting with the deep red blood still covering him, “I’m a man of my word. I’ve gotten what I wanted, so you’re free to go. After you’ve cleared my vile blood from your system, of course. Best to wait till dawn.”

If only he knew how right he was, for right now there was nothing more you wanted to do than to remain here, savoring one another in perpetuity. You hoped the feeling would pass before dawn, yet you clung onto the memory of every single one of Suguru’s touches, of the marks he’d carved into you, of the saccharine taste of his blood on your tongue. As you watched him nonchalantly pull layers of clothing off himself, tossing them aside like they were trash and revealing the firm outlines of his bare chest, you had half a mind to offer him another taste, but you stopped the thought from even crossing your mind. You had to, before it was too late.

After all, you’d already been careless enough for one night.

Thanks for reading! I really wrote all these words as an excuse to get myself a patented vampire Suguru Geto biting scene. I apologize and I am absolutely liable to do it again. Anyway, Happy Halloween!

[arctickat2400]

Tummy Love ∞ Henry Cavill

Soft!Henry Cavill x Reader (I say soft, but my Henry is always soft)

Word Count: 569

A/N: A small little fluffy something based on another something I found a while ago; possibly the shortest amount I have ever written (usually goes between 2k - 3k), but really it’s just a short imagine of sorts ‘cause I was itching to write something but didn’t know what. (Sorry for my repetitiveness throughout)

* * * *

It had been a long week and you and Henry finally had the time to relax and spend some quality time together. That meant cozying up on the couch while watching a show, more specifically The Witcher. It was more you watching it than Henry, lying back against the couch cushions, your legs stretched out in front of you (imagine laying on an L-shaped couch) as he laid his head on your lap, his arms wrapped around your waist. You brushed your fingers through his hair, your other hand placed on his shirtless waist, and you swear you could feel him pur, he was so at peace as you rub your thumb over his forehead. 

You felt something against your stomach, then, and you looked down to see Henry rubbing his nose against your skin, his hands on either side of your waist. You were always a bit insecure about your body, especially your fluffy stomach, but Henry adored the softness of your tummy. He would always take any and every chance he could get to rub or kiss your belly. It was quite endearing, and you loved him all the more for how loved he made you feel. 

Henry, after pulling down the waistband of your underwear, placed a sweet kiss right below your belly button. A little laugh escapes your lips, your cheeks flush at the affection as you continue to caress his hair. “What was that for?” You questioned him, your heart melting. 

“Tummy,” Is all Henry says as he continues to rub his nose over your soft skin. He was so nonchalant in his answer like you would know what he was talking about just by that one word.

You just smile. “What about it?” Henry looks up at you, his hands never leaving your sides, his thumbs brushing over your belly. He’s so stunned at how gorgeous you are, how he’s able to make you blush with the smallest, simplest of gestures, how your smile can light up the darkest of days. 

“Your tummy’s just too adorable,” Henry murmured, pressing his lips back against your belly. He thought he'd made it obvious by now. He’s shown you how much he loves what you believe to be flaws since the start of your relationship, even before you started dating, and that was two years ago. He’s shown you how much he loves your tummy, and how all he wants to do is rub and kiss it, place little love bites here and there to make you laugh, all because of how much he loves your darling tummy. 

“You… like my tummy?” You ask hesitantly, your cheeks flushing a deeper red than before. You can’t imagine feeling more loved than when Henry looks at you the way he is now, the only emotions you see are love and adoration. 

“I love your tummy… so much,” he says into your belly before placing several more kisses around your belly, transforming you into a giggly mess. 

“But not as much as I love you,” Henry says when you finally calm down from your high. He sits up to take your head in his hands, looking into your eyes with the most passionate love he could formulate, before pressing his lips to yours, and you could feel every ounce of love this precious man felt for you. You knew at that moment that Henry’s love for you would last forever. 

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hey so I have a kinda weird request, you have the right to ignore this of course.

How would Beidou, Yae Miko and Jean react to object of their love would say that they see them like their older sister (basicaly friend-zoneing them)

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this, it took me a bit of sitting on it to get a good response formulated! sorry for the wait :3

Warnings: this post contains yandere-themes, including kidnapping, love potions/drugging, mentions of conditioning/brainwashing, mentions of Stockholm syndrome, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Beidou:

She’s understandably crushed by this, while she encourages the members of her crew to behave like family and considers them as much, she wants you to see her as more. She’s already an older sister figure to others, she wants to finally mean something more to someone.

Beidou takes a few days to collect her thoughts, skilly avoiding you and holing up in her quarters on the Crux as she contemplates her next course of action. She might be crazy and reckless sometimes, her history can speak to that, she isn’t one to rush in without a plan.

She emerges with a new confidence, her usual swagger in her step as she confronts you once more. She tells you that she wants to take you on a trip and to pack your bags, enough for a few weeks. And no, you can’t decline.

“C’mon Doll, go get packing, an adventure awaits us.” A chuckle follows her words, her hands waving you off in the direction of your home. She follows behind you, helping you gather your things and carry them back to the Crux.

Beidou doesn’t tell you where she’s planning to take you, and the crew’s lips are equally as sealed, but the sudden shine in her eyes, the extra bit of stretch to her grin, and the way she can’t seem to keep away from you, all tell you that it’s certainly going to be something interesting.

Beidou decides to take you on a fairly long goose chase. While she claims you’re headed in the direction of one nation, you’re actually headed in the other. It takes a long while before you notice that you don’t really ever seem to reach a destination, just stopping in at small harbors and cities to restock food and supplies before setting off again. 

Her plan was essentially to trap you on the ship with her, have you sleep in the captain’s quarters with her, and spend every moment you physically could with her. She wanted you to become reliant on her presence, to want her around the same way she wanted you around.

It’s a fairly shaky plan that relies mostly on you developing some form of Stockholm syndrome, but she’s insistent it will work. It has to. She needs you.

Yae Miko:

While she can understand where you’re coming from, it also frustrates her greatly. Of course, she’s very good at not letting it show, but she didn’t spend all this time doting on you and loving you like no other just to be seen as a sister.

She doesn’t let the sudden news interrupt your relationship though, if anything she’s just more insistent in the little ways she loves on you. A hand on the small of your back when you two walk together, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear for you, the little things. Little things that she wants to make your heart flutter like how you make hers soar.

The longer it takes to win you over the more frustrated she gets, her centuries alive could not grant her enough patience to put up with this. But she remains cordial, acting as if everything is ok and normal. Until she can’t keep up the act. 

“Just hold still darling, it hurts less that way.” Yae smiles as she watches you struggle against your rope bindings, she knows they aren’t comfortable and don’t feel the greatest, that the rough rope bruises and chaffs your skin, but it would have to do for now. She can’t trust you to be free just yet, after all, you haven’t proven your love and devotion to her.

Yae jumps into the drastic route of kidnapping, keeping you confined in a place that only she and a select few others are aware of. She’s with you all day every day for the first week or so and after that, the hours vary. She does still have duties to uphold at the Grand Sakura Shrine after all.

When she’s with you though, it’s time spent conditioning you into new behaviors and mindsets, making you dependent on her and her love to even function. If you cannot open your eyes and see that you do love her, then she supposes she’ll just have to show you herself.

When she’s not with you, you’re given some freedom to explore the strange area, but nothing too grand. You’re kept confined to a room, a door the only break in the walls, with basic decorations and furniture. Yae didn’t spend too much time decorating, she didn’t want you getting too attached to this place, after all, she plans to take you back home someday.

Jean:

Jean is possibly the most understanding about all of this. Not only is she already an older sister, but she’s also a leader and considered like family to a lot of Mondstat. This isn’t to say she’s not upset by this though, it hurts her deeply.

Deeply enough that she spends a few days burrowed in her office, drowning her aching heart out in mountains of paperwork. Eventually, Lisa lures her out with the promise of helping to change your mind, which Jean is hesitant to do.

She respects your decision and your choices, but she simply can’t imagine life without you. So it’s no surprise that she does accept Lisa’s help, who in turn recruits Albedo.

It doesn’t take long for Lisa and Albedo to come to a solution. Between their combined knowledge and power, creating a love potion was simple. Unorthodox sure, but Lisa was confident it would work, nobody would even know. Albedo was in it merely to see how one responds to being under its effects.

Jean is hesitant to give it to you, her hands turning the bottle over and over in her hands as she considers whether or not she wants to do it. There’s a small part of her that feels guilty about it, about taking such a large part of who you are from you, but the large part of her is dying to hold you in her arms, to leave kisses all over your face, to properly call you hers.

It’s almost startling how easily she finds herself giving it to you, inviting you over for some tea to apologize for her absence and her reaction to your rejection. Everything about it feels so normal, what reason would you have to believe your drink has been spiked.

When you take the first sip and it tastes funny should’ve been the first sign something was wrong, but at Jean’s insistence that she was sure she had made it right, you settle for taking another sip, eventually finishing your whole cup. A smile graced Jean’s face when she saw you set the empty cup down.

It didn’t take long for the effects to set in, after all, you’d consumed quite a bit. Seeing you looking at her like she put the stars in the sky like she was the greatest person you’d ever met, melted all of Jean’s doubts. Screw feeling guilty, Jean was happy you finally loved her back.

[fandomnerd9602]

Closing a Book

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

They say when one door closes, another opens. For you, the door closed on one Wanda Maximoff and another opened on a miss Petra Parker - the spectacular Spider Girl.

You loved every minute of every day you could spend with your spider monkey. She was incredible in every sense of the word. You loved spending time with her Aunt May and Petra loved spending time with your family.

But something always bothered you. When Wanda decided to dump you for Vision, it left you with many questions. And those questions pounded on your mind daily.

You needed to find the answers. So one day you took a little jaunt up to the town of Westview. Despite how they had hurt you, you bought a small suburban house for the happy couple. They were still Avengers and a Stark always looks after their teammates.

You walk up to the front door of the nondescript house in the middle of a suburb in Westview. Was this a good idea? Was Wanda gonna catapult you off her porch with a blast of magic.

You ready yourself to knock the door but Vision opens the door and gives you a gentle smile, “(Y/N), it’s wonderful to see you.”

“Hey Vis” you give him a little hug. In truth, before this whole Wanda thing, Vision was the closest thing you had to a brother. You kind of missed these little interactions.

“Come on in. Wanda’s in the guest room.” He guides you into the living room.

Wanda comes down the stairs a few seconds later, covered in a little bit of paint and caulk. “Detka I can’t find the screwdriver” she tries to tell Vision but she gasps when she sees you, “(Y/N) hey”

“Hey Wanda”

“What brings you by?”

“I-I can come back later. Remodeling? Or are you trying a new style. Cause it works for you”

She gives you a smile, your jokes were never that good but she loved it, “no no I’m…I’m decorating the nursery”

“Nursery? You and Vision?”

“Yeah we’re adopting. Two little boys from Salem.” She explains.

“C-congrats. You’ll make a great mother.” Your mind briefly races, “so uhh…the reason I’m here is…well that is to say…I-I…”

Wanda’s eyes quickly flash red. She gives you a sad smile, “you want closure”

“Y-yeah I guess so?” You find yourself a little confused that she was able to word in such-

“I read your mind, Stark” she gives a little sad laugh.

“So…” you try to formulate what you need to say, “what happened to us?”

“Let answer with another question. Did you love me?” She looks you in the eyes, no anger only compassion.

“Yes” you answer, “but it seemed like you and Vision were…were…”

Wanda takes your hand, “I know. That was my mistake. It was never you.” A few tears make their way down her face, “You were amazing and thoughtful but you were never mine”

The words cut you a little deep. “Oh”

“Vision and I we just…click. What’s it like when you’re with Petra? When she holds your hand.”

“I feel every problem melts away,” your mind wanders to Petra. “I love her smile. The way she looks at me and her family. The way she upstages me and corrects my math or fixes a design”

Wanda lets out a little laugh, “see? I tried to comprehend what you were saying most of the time but I couldn’t.”

“Really? I’m sorry” you try to hide your face a little.

“No it’s great. You’ve found your other half (Y/N) Stark. Don’t let her go.”

You look to your phone, its wallpaper being an image of you and Petra together. Your heart flutters. “I won’t. Not now, not ever.”

You give Wanda and Vision hugs and depart back to New York. You drive straight to Petra’s apartment.

You knock on her door. Aunt May answers, smiles and lets you in. You walk right over to Petra who’s currently sitting on the couch.

“Baby?” She asks, getting to her feet. “Where have you been? Are you alright?”

You simply hug her tight, you bury your face in the crook of her neck and breathe in her scent.

“You’re my other half” you whisper in her ear.

“And you’re mine.”

Tags @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @jacenradio7 @texaswolf23 @russianredassassin @revanshand @pinklawyerwinnerzonk

[phoxey]

French toast

Bada Lee x fem!reader

CW: none :3 this is pure fluff

AN: sorry for the long absence, and sorry that this is so short, but i promised a comeback, I am still struggling to write, but it's better than nothing.

I love writing, but like in any relationships there are ups and downs. and in such down phases love is hard work. But it's worth it in the end.

Valentines Day was approaching, and this would be the first time, that you wouldn’t spend the day with Bada. You two have been a couple for a few years now and she would always make Valentines Day special. This year Bada happened to be in a dance workshop on the other side of the world for a few weeks, missing Valentines Day. You tried to talk to her every day, but time zones were against you. When she was going to bed, you were waking up, and when you were going to bed, she was waking up. You only had a small timeframe for talking, and her schedule was tight. She thought you wouldn’t notice, but she woke up earlier and stayed up late just to talk to you. You wanted to scold her for it, but on the other hand you were also grateful for every minute you got with her.

You woke up to several messages from Bada, which she sent, when she knew it was midnight in Korea. It was some silly memes, asking you out to be her valentine, but with them came a long voice message.

“Good morning, beautiful. I hope you had the most wonderful sleep and the sweetest dreams. Maybe you even dreamt of us? I know, I always do. Especially when we are apart like this. I dream of holding you in my arms, your head on my chest, while we watch our favorite shows. It’s cheesy, I know. I really can’t wait for this moment to come. I will probably be at work when you listen to this. And everything I am about to say, I could have also written in a letter, but I wanted to say those things directly, so you can hear the sincerity in my voice. I want to tell you, how I feel. I am so very madly in love with you, it drives me crazy to not be with you for every minute of the day. Every day my love for you grows. How that is possible? I don’t know. Every day I seem to invent a new kind of infinity. I have been looking at your pictures a lot more these past few days, and since day one your beauty keeps striking me over and over again. I know you still can’t see what I see, but I swear to me you are the most beautiful woman on earth. I wish I could kiss every spot you are insecure about and make that feeling go away. I love all of you. You are truly beautiful inside and out. You are just perfect for me. To have such a kind, hardworking and understanding woman in my life, and to be able to call you mine, is truly the greatest blessing I have ever received. I love you.”

From the first word on, tears shot into your eyes. You were too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought. Just as you were trying to formulate a good answer, the doorbell rang. Confused, you walked to the apartment door and opened it. A giant bouquet of your favorite flowers stood in a vase on the ground. It was arranged in the form of a heart. You had to chuckle, this was so cheesy, but that was what you loved about your girlfriend. She always did and say cheesy things, but somehow it was never cringe.

“I see I am arriving in time.”, a familiar voice said.

You looked to the side and saw Lusher and Tatter walking up to your door, both of the carrying a suspicious number of bags.

“Good morning!”, you smiled. “What are you two doing here?”

Lusher and Tatter were grinning at each other for a moment. “We are playing Cupid.”, Tatter answered.

Inside, you put the bouquet on the dining table, as the girls sat down in the living room. You joined them after a moment, bringing them coffee.

You eyed the bags; your heart was racing.

“So!”, Lusher began, and Tatter got her phone out, to begin filming. “Your special someone instructed us to give you your Valentines Day presents. She is very sorry that she can’t be with you right now, but she still wants to make sure you are being spoiled on this special day. Like you deserve.”

You opened the first bag, inside was a shoebox. You recognized immediately what kind of shoes they were. The Nike Jordan 1s you had been wanting for a while now. You took them out to look at them. Suddenly something fell out of them. It was a polaroid photo. It was a mirror selfie of Bada pointing at her feet. She was wearing the same shoes.

The second bag was bigger but softer. Slowly you pulled out, what was inside. It was two pieces of clothing. Firstly, it was one of Badas pants, you always stole, when she made the mistake of wearing them to your apartment. The second item was one of her oversized hoodies. It even smelled like her parfum.

Speaking of it, the last bag was a little smaller. Inside were two things. One you recognized as your favorite parfum, which Bada also loved on you. Whenever you wore it, she stayed at your side, not leaving you for longer than one minute. But there was also a second parfum bottle. You sprayed it on your wrist and immediately the smell of Bada filled your nose. It was her parfum. Smelling it almost made you tear up. You missed her so much. Maybe spraying this onto her hoodie and your pillow would ease the pain of her not being with you finally.

With each present your smile got bigger and your giggles more frequent. Tatter smiled just as wide as she filmed your reaction.

“Do you like it?”

You spun around and there she was. Her tall frame leaning against the wall with her shoulder. Hands in her pockets. She wore her finest dress shirt and tie. She looked so beautiful. Tears welled up in your eyes as you ran into her arms.

“Happy Valentines Day, baby.”, she whispered and kissed on top of your head, as you buried your face in her neck, sobbing.

“I thought you couldn’t come for another week.”, you muttered against the skin of her neck, placing delicate kisses onto her pulse.

“I wanted to surprise you. Did you really think I can spend Valentines Day without my forever Valentine?”

Bada mouthed a thank you to the two other girls, who just winked at her and left the apartment, grinning.

“We have so much to talk about! I have so much tea for you! And you have to tell me all about your trip and your workshop!”, you said excitedly.

Bada smiled fondly at you and laced your fingers. Tenderly, she pressed her lips to your knuckles.

“Sounds good. How about we talk, while I make some French toast?”

[scrubbinn]

Mimic HRT: month 21 “Mended patience”

“Mx, are you alright? Is there something I could get you, water, earmuffs? You can ask if there's anything you need.”

“Huh? Oh, no water please. And I'm fine. It's just…”

“It's scary, right? Dealing with doctors I mean. I'd imagine being here is scary enough. Don't worry, everything will be ok. Now let's see… You're Jasmine, right? Jasmine Elwood? You use Gard/Graden neo pronouns, yes?

“Y-yes, that’s right.”

“It's a lovely name. You're a bit early, but I'll page Erian to check if he can see you now. You can take a seat if you like, and be sure to ask if you need assistance with anything.” 

“um, are you a therian? I'm in the right clinic, yeah? it's just, I thought there would be others working here.”

“I'm an otherkin. A mimic. Almost two years in at this point. I just like using my human form when I work. It's tough to maintain but it's harder to work a computer otherwise. I'm currently an assistant to Dr. Erian, and also the receptionist for the next few months after the last one suddenly quit. I swear the more I work here the more I wonder how this place managed to stay afloat for so long. Sorry, I don't mean to make this place sound bad or cheap. It's helped me quite a lot with becoming who I was meant to be. I'm sure you'll find exactly what you're looking for here.”

“...Thanks.”

“Oh, looks like the doctor will see you now. But one last thing before you go in. You can choose if you would like to meet Dr. Erian alone, or if you wish for an assistant such as myself to sit in with you to make sure everything is more comfortable-

“Yes. that. Please. Uh, if that's ok.”

“Sure thing! Please follow me.”

* * * 

“Hello. I'm Dr. Erian, and you would be Ms. Elwood, correct? Is that your actual family name? You'll need to use your real name or else there could be legal trouble. Eitherway, I’ve taken the time to read through most of the files that were transferred from your old provider. It seems you just entered your first year on a normal HRT which is good, we wouldn’t be able to give you this treatment otherwise. Now then, let’s take a look at the documentation you filled out for me. You should be grateful that we’ve now moved to an informed consent model due to certain clientele. Ahem, anyways, it says here you’re looking to become a golem? Odd, with your name I assumed you-

“Doctor. Please focus on the client, and don’t make assumptions.”

“Right. Well, switching from a carbon based lifeform to silicon is tricky and involves crossing not just a species threshold but also a biological one. Not to mention there could be a lot of damage to your body if anything goes wrong. Perhaps you could explain why you think you're a golem?”

  “I, um, I- I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous right now. I have trouble speaking sometimes.”

“Speak up Ms, I couldn't make out what you were- ow. Mayday! May I remind you that-

“Sorry about that Jasmine. You can ignore him for now. Focus on me and let’s take some deep breaths together. In and out ok? In and out, there you go! Do you think you could tell me what being a golem is like?”

“Um, it’s just, it’s just who and what I am. I can’t really describe it. It’s the only thing I can see myself as. There's some days where I just lie outside completely still and let nature move around me. It's peaceful.”

“Ok! Did you get that doc?”

“Sigh, alright fine. At least it sounds like you've been living as your preferred species for a while now. I suppose we can move on to other topics. It will take some time to formulate the proper medication for something like this, but through modern magic and medicine, it can be done. Now, we'll need to go over some paperwork, mostly an acknowledgement of potential risk. You could no longer be considered human depending on legal changes. I'll give you time to look it over.”

“Um, do… Do you know what I might look like if I took this medication? I know what I am but I'm a bit scared something is going to happen.”

“I could show you if you want, I have an idea of what you might want based on what you've told me…

…Well, what do you think? Oh! Please don't touch, I'm not actually made of rocks and you might poke a tooth.”

“Sorry it's just. You look like me. The real me.”

“Well doc? Think we can make something like this?”

“I suppose so, it won't have the specific details, but the general shape is possible. Let's continue the discussion on your treatment first, and if you agree, then we can have a prescription ready in a month.”

* * *

“You performed Adequately Ms. Mulberry. Perhaps you'll actually make a decent assistant, and it seems Ms. Elwood will have a bright future thanks to this clinic. There aren't any other client meetings today, so I'll have you handling prescriptions to send out to pharmacies. Before that though, how has the progress gone on documenting your species?”

“If you mean my mimicry in general, it's going well. I'll have my findings on your desk next month. If you mean learning about the other voice I've been hearing. No luck there. It doesn't show up unless I'm feeling some kind of extreme emotion. Looking back it feels like it wasn't just one voice, but several. It's hard to figure out, some of the others in the THEMS group have some ideas as to what it could be.

“Being influenced by the thoughts of a third party with no medical experience isn't going to solve anything. Please look into it further on your own. I can't move forward with patenting this medication without knowing if this is a potential side effect, or if it's just something in your head..”

“That certainly didn't stop you with me. Look, I'm still going to work with the support group if they can help. Plus when I start my therapy sessions it's going to be something that'll have to come up at some point. Someone else is going to be involved in this. What you should be focusing on right now is Jasmine's treatment.”

“Yes I really should start working on her tre-

“You mean garden treatment. And stop saying Ms. It's Mx. Gard listed garden gender as a non-binary option.”

“Yes, whatever. I have a lot of things to keep track of. Can't keep up with every little detail about a patient. That's your job now, and don't go forgetting who's in charge here! Your little blackmail attempt amounted to nothing. So don't go cutting me off again! Not now, and especially not during client meetings! I have the power to fire you if I see a single slip up. Remember which of us is the doctor and which of us is the assistant. Now then, I expect a report of your mimic status by next week and you should hurry along to fulfill your duties to our clients.”

“What do you mean it amounted to nothing?”

“Excuse me? What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that I'm here right now aren't I? I don't mean that you gave me this job, I mean you gave me legal access to all those files I wanted. It's kind of crazy you didn't realize. I guess I hit the nail on the head when I assumed you'd see me as an opportunity to show other therians that you're on our side. But now, I have complete access to everything and I can legally be a whistleblower to the public here. If you ever hurt me again, I'll send out everything. And I won't even be affected. After all, I'm just an innocent assistant concerned for the safety of the general public. I'm sure with your reputation completely sunk, it wouldn't be hard to replace you. There's a number of other doctors that would kill to have your position. You wouldn't survive.”

“You're implying I still have a reputation to lose. I felt pity for you when you fought for the last spark of hope in your life, to see you squandering it on threats like this… Are you truly so vain that you feel the need to pretend your bluff had weight.”

“Erian, I'm saying this for your own benefit. If people knew what kinds of things you did in this clinic. I don't mean you'd lose your medical license or be run out of town. I'm pretty sure they'd come after your life. This isn't a threat, this is a warning. We're equals here now, whether you like it or not. I could be much worse, but I've decided to play nice.”

“...I see. Sigh, I'll die of stress from you at this point. Why even work here if you hate it and myself so much?”

“Mayday, the actual Mayday, wanted to work here before she forgot everything. She wanted to learn how to help people. I feel like I owe her that much. I don’t care if I have to step over you or any other bigot to reach that goal.”

“Of course you’d say something hokey like that. Always painting your actions as the only noble ones around you. You really are a monster the media made you out to be.”

“You're the one who made me like this. I had to relearn everything about playing human. Besides, you should have known something like this would happen eventually. If not me then someone would have found enough dirt on you. You're kind of sloppy when you hide evidence… Huh, I thought this kind of conversation would make me more angry, but this has been oddly calming. I suppose it's me no longer recognizing you as a threat. Congrats, now we know others mimics won't inherently hate you. At least not always. Now I just see you as potential food.”

“Food? Tell me then Ms. Mulberry, Did a part of you enjoy the taste of flesh?”

“Don't push it. How about you get back to work, I have patients to care for.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.32

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

Nat tells you everything about what happened a month ago, including some details you were probably not authorized to know. She seems determined to get you to understand her no matter what and you’re endeared at how important it is to her that you know absolutely everything. 

You take note of the fact that you’re definitely past Avengers Tower and are now in what looks like rural New York. There are more trees and greenery around and you’re curious about where you’re going but you focus your attention on Natasha for now.

You listen to her story diligently and with as much empathy for both sides as you can. You can understand why none of the other Avengers wanted to be the government's lap dogs but you also understood that fear was a powerful thing. You subconsciously rub your healing scar at the thought.

When she finishes her explanation she seems to look at you expectantly, waiting for your response and you take a moment to formulate the right words in your head before speaking-

”You left me with no contact and I’m trying my best to understand your situation but it doesn’t stop the fact that I was still hurt by it” It’s a painful truth but if Nat could share her vulnerability with you than you could do the same.

”I know. I know and I’ll spend however long you need me to making up for it. I’m sorry Y/n. You have to know that it hurt me so much to hurt you.” 

“You’re already forgiven”

”That was fast” She seems surprised and even a little amused at the quickness of your forgiveness and you shrug

“If I'm honest, I forgave you the second I saw you. I missed you, Nat. I’m just glad you’re home safe” Her eyes hold a look so full of admiration that you have to force yourself to look away. If she keeps looking at you like that you’re not sure what you’ll do.

To distract yourself, you urge her to continue her story and resist the need to pull her lips to yours. You hope she doesn’t notice the way your eyes subconsciously go to her mouth when she begins talking again but your chances are slim with a super spy.

If she notices she doesn’t say anything and you have to wonder if it’s due to the presence of someone else nearby. You can’t help but be a little frustrated- would you two ever get a moment alone together? To say what you’ve been itching to say since you found her again?

Natasha tells you about being lonely and drafting argument after argument with Clint. Waiting for the right moment to come back. 

“Honestly we thought it was going to be another half a month at least but I rushed the process.” You might be hallucinating but you’re pretty sure there’s a light blush on her cheeks. “ Even if the argument wasn’t perfect there was something important I had to come home to.”

You nod in understanding, you’re sure it’s not easy being in her position “Yeah, the world needs its heroes” 

She gives you a look that seems to say ‘That’s not exactly the reason’ but you can’t think of any other reasons for her to rush something so important to them. The risk seems to have been worth the reward for her.

Seeing that you’re not understanding, she drops the look and continues with her story “Anyway, with the government facing so much heat from the public combined with our statement they had no choice but to agree or they would be out of heroes the next time aliens came knocking on Earth’s door.”

You resist the urge to first pump the air at the news. Surely that meant she would be around often right? At the very least you could visit her as a friend, even if every part of you was madly in love with her.

Much to your surprise, the car eventually pulls into a large gray and white building in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees. The driver drops you off at a side door before pulling off to another part of the building and you stare in awe at the huge building with the Avengers ‘A’ printed on every part.

You’re admiring the sheer amount of space around the area but before you have the chance to gawk any further Nat is guiding you inside of the building to be met with glossy cement floors and very modern interior design.

“You’ll have time to look later” You can’t help but read into her words. That meant she wanted you around for longer right? Maybe this whole thing wasn’t one-sided after all.

A robotic feminine voice from above makes you jump in shock and Nat glances at you in amusement at the action.

“Miss Romanoff, welcome back. An unregistered person is accompanying you, shall I register them in the database?” Nat is seemingly unfazed by the voice of God coming from the ceiling as she speaks freely to it.

“Hey Friday, She’s my guest, feel free to register her if you’d like. I know how Tony is” She mumbles that last part but you still hear it anyway.

“Creating guest profile… Scanning… registering Y/n Y/l/n as Natasha Romanoff’s guest” You flinch when it says your name, briefly wondering how it got that information and you turn to see Nat smirking at you.

You glare at her obvious pleasure at your confusion and try to brush off how freaky a voice from the roof talking to you is.

“Sorry I’m not used to rich billionaire tech” You huff a bit childishly and Nat just shakes her head with a chuckle, placing a hand on your back and guiding you to a set of double doors. The two of you are about to enter when you hear the sound of two familiar voices. The same voices from inside your apartment.

Noticing your obvious discomfort, Nat stops and steps in front of you, her hands finding purchase on your shoulder 

“Are you okay?” Truth be told you feel a little shaken but if Nat wasn’t weary about what was behind this door then you shouldn’t be either. Worst case scenario Nat was there to protect you from whoever those men were.

You nod your head, unable to bring yourself to speak and she takes a minute to observe you and rub your shoulder in reassurance before she opens the doors.

The doors lead to a living room space with a kitchenette attached to it and sitting at the island table are two roughly familiar faces. One of them was none other than Clint Barton aka The Hawkeye, and the other was Steve’s friend Bucky. He was still pretty new to the group so you didn’t know much about him but much to your surprise the voices from your apartment were coming from them.

When Clint's eyes land on Nat he grins from his seat and pats Bucky on the back but Bucky’s eyes immediately fall on you, his face paling as he struggles to make eye contact.

Your eyes widen as you realize not only were you being stalked but you were being stalked by a trained assassin and Avenger. What possible reason could he have been following you for this whole time?

“I told you she’d recognize you” Clint has the heart to fix you with an apologetic smile as he talks to Bucky and to your credit Nat seems equally confused.

“What’s going on here, boys?” She narrows her eyes at the two of them and Clint raises his hands in surrender, not wanting to be a victim of her wrath. 

“Well I was watching over Y/n like you asked me to but imagine my surprise when I found someone else doing the same” You take a minute to register the fact that Natasha asked Clint to keep an eye on you and you struggle behind finding it endearing and being uncomfortable.

All this time you were worried about getting kidnapped, you were actually safer than you’ve ever been in your life. At least you don’t have to worry about being stalked anymore as it seems that mystery was solved. It’s a large weight off of your shoulders. You decide to count it as another positive to add to the tally for today. 

Nothing could ruin today for you and the feeling of Nat’s hand settled comfortably on your lower back only further cements that statement.

A sigh draws your attention back to the group and you along with everyone else, stare at Bucky expectantly for an explanation.

“Listen, Steve wanted me to find a way to check up on you but when I started digging the only lead I could find was Y/n” It’s weird to hear him say your name as if it’s familiar and you wonder how many other Avengers know of your existence. “I thought if I watched her long enough she would lead me to you but I wasn’t getting anywhere so when she went out of town I might’ve..broken into her apartment to look for signs”

“-and that’s where I found him when Y/n had the unfortunate timing of coming home” Clint is the only one who seems to find humor in this situation but it’s clear from the look on Bucky’s face they had been bickering about it before you came in.

“I thought she was gone!” Apparently done with pretending you’re not in the room, Bucky turns to you with an apologetic look on his face “I’m sorry” 

You’re not quite sure what to make of this situation but there’s still one question nagging at the back of your mind

“So were you guys in the SUV’s that followed me as well?” 

Shaking his head no, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your statement “I prefer to tail people on foot. It’s easier to blend in” His assurance only fuels the confusion in the room and everyone’s heads whip to the door before you can even sense anyone coming. Stupid super spy senses.

The door opens to reveal none other than Tony Stark sporting a guilty look on his face- well as guilty as a playboy billionaire can feel.

“That would be me.” Your eyes widen in surprise at the confession. “Really it’s shameful that neither of you noticed. I think you need more training” He makes his way to the kitchenette, opening the fridge and perusing the contents until he pulls a container of blueberries and begins snacking on them, completely unaware or just disregarding the eyes glaring at him.

“Why were you following Y/n, Stark?” Nat is the first to speak, she seems irritated at the fact that not only one, but two of her coworkers were stalking you and if you’re honest you’re a little irked that they would use you to try and get to Nat. 

He rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated that you aren’t following “Oh come on, you guys didn’t think you were the only ones who thought to check her phone records?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “Clint’s attempt at hiding your phone was commendable but I don’t need the actual phone to hack into the records” he turns to Nat once again “Your little firewall was cute though”

“You’re still on thin ice Stark”

He raises his hands in surrender and places the berries back into the fridge, talking to your group with his back turned as if he isn’t in a room full of irritated super spies and assassins. “Well imagine my surprise when I find out not only is Nat’s little ‘boytoy’ a girl, but she’s also already in my system”

“Wait wait- what do you mean?” It’s your turn to speak up and your head is spinning with all the new information you’re receiving. If you’re honest you’re still craving the nap you were robbed of earlier.

Tony seems to acknowledge you for the first time since he walked into the room, his eyes scan observantly up and down your body before he quirks a brow and you wonder if everyone feels this small in his presence “Friday runs automatic background checks on everyone who enters my elevators. Obviously”

You realize he’s talking about when you and your friend attended his part at the Tower and he gives you a tight-lipped smile when he sees you’ve caught on 

“ I was worried you were an over-obsessed fan or something but a quick little peek into your text messages told me everything I needed to know. So I had Happy tail you but Natty here was nowhere near her girlfriend. So cold of you to completely ghost her like that Nat, really?”

“Good to know everyone here respects my privacy” Nat rolls her eyes and Bucky averts his gaze from the two of you, clearly uncomfortable with the situation he got himself into. 

You can’t help but notice the fact that Nat doesn’t object to Stark calling you her girlfriend and you’re sure you must look crazy as you blush in a room full of suffocating tension. Maybe they’ll think you’re a nervous blusher.

”Yes well-” Tony gestures at himself as if to say ‘you know who you're dealing with’ “Imagine my surprise when you came back claiming you would get the government off of our asses- I thought it was because you liked us but clearly you had ulterior motives.”

Before you can question what he means, Nat huffs and turns to drag you out of the room. You’re grateful to get away from the stuffy tense environment but as you're leaving you turn back to see Tony smirking at you for some unknown reason. His eyes hold a playful but knowing mirth and you wonder if you’ll ever understand what goes on inside his head.

Pt.33

A/n: Imagine Tony Stark reading every text message you’ve ever sent. Mortifying.~ Starry

---Taglist--

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[zeltqz]

Hey this is my first time requesting , can you make a angst where hanma treats his girlfriend ( reader ) like shit and cheats on her constantly and the reader loves him so much , but one day reader decides to leave without telling shuji and just leaves a note in their shared apartment and when hanma sees it he realises that he treated reader harshly and tries to find her to apologise but reader doesn't care anymore . Make it angsty pls , sorry if it's too long

a long request calls for a long fic haha

enjoy this 8k long ass fic mwahhhhh

feckless | hanma shuji

/ˈfɛkləs/ lacking initiative or strength of character; irresponsible.

pairing. fwb!hanma x fem!reader

featuring. kazutora hanemiya, hinata tachibana, hanma shuji, takemichi hanagaki

word count. 8.5k

content. hurt/comfort, angst, one sided pining, weed mention, smoking, explicit sexual content, toxic relationship with hanma, he ghosts you alot, and you just take it, low self esteem reader

This particular Thursday afternoon, the sun shines blindingly bright, warming your back as you kick a stone in front of you every step you make. It’s not a far walk to your house from the mall; shopping bags in one hand, phone in the other.

As the sun is setting, the streets are partially empty, minus the few cars driving past, and the silence is deafening.

You stop just at the end of the road, seeing traffic building up across the road towards your house. They must be doing more construction.

With a hefty sigh, you turn the other way, walking down a thick alleyway that runs behind your street. This is only a route you take when you’re in desperate needs. Though it’s much faster than the main street, it’s also smellier and darker. 

You stop in your tracks and that’s when you see it.

A few grunts, thuds, and the sound of what is definitely a fist punching someone in the stomach. The poor guy, around seventeen, maybe, if his school uniform was anything to go off of, was now laying on the floor, clutching his stomach, groaning in pain as someone much taller, lankier, makes a show of dropping to sit on his back.

He idly smokes a cigarette like he isn’t currently stopping the flow of oxygen and blood of the poor guy beneath him.

“How boring ,” he sighs, lifting the cigarette from his lips to blow a puff of smoke into the air. “Thought you’d be able to entertain me with all that shit you was talkin’.”

“I—argh—I can’t breathe—”

“Hmmm,” the guy hums and the sound vibrates through the alley, rippling it’s way through your body. “And what do you expect me to do ‘bout that?”

The boy couldn’t verbally respond, nor formulate a perfect sentence, only able to respond in grunts and groans and the sound of his lungs desperately searching for air.

If you don’t step in, you’d have to live with yourself forever, knowing you just witnessed this man commit a murder and nothing was done about it.

It takes a moment to uncurl your fingers from the shopping bag, your body trembling, feet heavy as your lungs match the jagged, unsteady rhythm of your breathing before you’re walking over towards the man.

Stopping right next to him, it feels like forever until he lazily turns his head to look up at you.

His eyebrow arches, face filled with nothing but interest as he lets his eyes rake down your body.

It’s like he knows he’s making you uncomfortable, because the corner of his lips twitch upwards into a smile when you shift uneasily on your feet.

“And you are?” His voice is slack and lazy, dragging his words on sluggishly as he blinks at you.

It feels like minutes, hours, days have passed with how long it takes your brain to co-operate with you. “I—I’m—”

The poor dude on the floor tries to lift the guy off his back, gathering every inch of strength he has left in his weak body to try shrug him off, but the sadist on top of him only raises his hand (and it is huge, what the fuc—), and slams it down on his head, applying pressure until his chin smacks painfully against the floor.

“Can’t you see the young lady is tryna speak?” He asks him before letting go of his head, removing his cigarette from his lips, holds them with two fingers and you watch as he brings the cigarette in front of his eyes. The orange lit bud at the end sends flickers of ash into the air. “Do your eyes me to burn some energy into ‘em? Huh?”

Your stomach churns distressingly at the mental image painted into your brain. Everything moves in slow motion, he’s moving the cigarette downwards to the man’s eyes before you step in. “Leave him alone! Th—this isn’t funny!”

“It’s not?” He shrugs his shoulders. “It seems pretty fun t’me.” His body twists round to face you, still sitting heavily atop of the man, and it’s surprising how he hasn’t lost his breath yet. “You’re not havin’ fun?”

“No.” Your response comes quickly, more stern that you initially planned, and his eyes widen marginally. “This is sick what you’re doing. Just—let him go.”

He raises his brow again, confused at who you think you are to order him around. Then he notices you aren’t as confident as you make yourself out to be; your hands tremble against the bag you were holding.

Sighing heavily, he stands up and the poor boy lets out the biggest exhale of his life. You’re about to rush over to him and ask if he’s okay but your feet remain planted in place as he walks over to you.

He’s so tall, looming above you that the lump in your throat hardens, making it harder to swallow, and even more harder to speak. You would’ve ran away by now if it wasn’t for the pitiful fact that your feet were heavy, sinking deeper into the ground by the second.

“I let him go free. See?” He looks over his shoulder at the boy who’s struggling to run away with the limited oxygen supply in his lungs. Eventually, he manages to scramble his way out from the alley, leaving the two of you alone. “So, what’re you gunna gimme in exchange?”

“I…do you want money? Because I spent all of it.” His eyes drop downwards to your bag, and you only clutch it harder once you see the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“Lemme see.”

“No. It’s mine—hey !” He snatches the bag from what you thought was your tight grip with so much ease it makes you question your strength, and begins rummaging through it.

Your cheeks burn hot as he digs through the bag. Of course the day you had decided to go underwear and bra shopping was the day you get potentially robbed by a hoodlum.

“Oooh,” he hums with glee, his voice doing wonders to stress you out even more. Between his fingertips,  he pulls out a lacy bra, wiggling it in his grasp. “Someone’s naughty.”

“Give it back!” You try to reach for it, but unfortunately for you, he has quicker reflexes—insanely long arms that stretch over his head, and yours. 

It’s almost sickening how amused he is by this situation, watching you jump upwards like a rabbit, desperately trying to get your bra back. Something warm buzzes through his chest, makes him far too interested in seeing how far he can push you before you tip over the edge.

“I like you a lot.” His hand descends and you take this moment to snatch it back quickly, stuffing it inside your bag with a pout.

“Well, I don’t like you,” you spit back, glaring at him as hard as you can because who (???) does he think he is. 

“You’re going to.” He leans forward until you’re stepping backwards to avoid him.

His hand darts out, grabs the back of your head and before you know it, his lips are on yours, sucking obscenly at your bottom lip till you feel it swelling. He’s kissing you quick and fast, and you barely have time to react, not when his tongue shoves itself deep into your mouth, swirling around yours. He tastes like cigarettes, and the faint smell of tobacco nudges itself into your mouth as he all but sucks the saliva from your tongue with his needy mouth.

Your hands rise to push him off but he’s pulling away before you can.

He smiles down at you, wolfish, and evil, yet boyishly charming, with spit soaked lips. 

Hanma Shuji—he introduces himself as— ends up following you home despite your recurring complaints, telling him to fuck off  and die. He only reponds with a giggle that grates your eardrums everytime the high pitched sound leaves his lips. It’s a miracle you live alone, because your parents would most definitely disown you for bringing someone like him into their house.

“What an adorable home,” he says into your apartment as he steps inside the tiny space.

“Yeah…ok.” You tug your shoes off and leave the door open behind you. “Can you go now?”

He shakes his head with a tut, handing rising to point at the bag on your side. “Not till you gimme a lil’ fashion show.”

“I—” You purse your lips and look down at the bag. The lacy lingerie you bought earlier practically taunts you, making you regret ever leaving your house this morning to go buy it. “Absolutely not! I don’t even know you.”

His face goes blank and he stares at you, unbothered, like he didn’t just ask you for such an outrageous request. “And?”

“And?” You scoff in disbelief at the fact you even have to explain such a simple concept to him. “And, I’m not going to show a stranger my—”

He sighs, long and heavy, and you instantly shut up at the sound. There’s a disappointed look on his face. “And here I thought you were interestin’.”

“Wha—” Your complaint dies in your throat, and you blink dumbly up at the man in front of you. “Y—you thought I was interesting?”

No one’s ever called you interesting before.

He shrugs his shoulders, arms folding across his chest. “No one else woulda had the guts to stop me earlier so yeah , thought you was really interestin’ and different.” His low sigh is filled with nothing but disappointment and you can’t help the hollow feeling in your chest as it slowly eats away at you. “Turns out you’re another borin’ prude like everybody else.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a truck, and you frown slightly, knowing this is how he perceives you. A boring prude. 

Being someone with not a lot of friends, being called boring isn’t something new to you, having heard it almost all your life, you’re practically immune to being affected by it. But being called boring by someone like him seems to hurt more than any other time. Maybe it’s because for a second, he was the only person you met that actually thought you weren’t boring, that you were different than everybody else, that you had enough guts to stand up to him despite trembling the entire time.

Holding onto that thought, you bite your lip and glance back down to your bag, then sigh. “Follow me.”

You kick the door closed and begin to walk to your bedroom. Though you can’t see the feral smile on his face, you can most definitely feel it, as well as the feeling of his eyes shamelessly raking itself down the length of your body from behind as you lead him further into your apartment.

Pushing him onto the bed, you order him to stay there. “I’m going to change.” 

He lays flat on the bed, lounging on it like it’s his own, not even bothering to remove his shoes. You stare at him blankly for a couple seconds when he says, “Go on then.”

Rolling your eyes, you head over to your bathroom and change.

It feels weird, changing for a man you haven’t known for longer than an hour at best, you think as you begin to strip your clothes off. Wearing something this explicit in front of somebody else takes months—maybe even years—of trust and you’re throwing all that away just because he called you interesting. Not even pretty. Interesting.

So far, Hanma’s managed to light a cigarette and is currently smoking it as you step out of the bathroom, standing awkwardly and scratching your arm lightly as you wait for him to say something.

His eyes blink their way down your body, mind and thoughts going wild as his tongue darts out to lick at his lips. “C’mere.”

You take a couple steps forward till you’re beside your bed, toes doing a jittery dance on the soft, fuzzy rug the longer you watch him watch you. His hand moves quickly, tugging you forward onto the bed. 

It’s barely enough time to react, but you stop yourself before you face plant onto the bed. Manhandling you on top of him, his big, warm hands grip onto your hips. A thick cloud of smoke blows into your face, and you cough, swatting at the air. He’s shamelessly dragging his eyes down your neck, pressing light touches to the curve of your breast and softly kneads the cup of the bra into his hand.

Unable to hold back (as much as you try fight it), soft moans leave your mouth, and you have no other choice but to bite your lip to conceal it.

“Little Miss Perfect, hm?” He grins from ear to ear as your face flushes from his touches.

“I’m—um. I’m not perfect.”

“Yes you are.” He’s adjusting you on his lap, and you gasp when he grinds your hips down his erection. The feel of it digs into the curve of your thighs. “Hiding all this from me, huh?”

He’s gesturing to your half naked body, and you frown. “I wasn’t hiding anything—” It’s hard to concentrate on your words when he's running his hands along your body, lower back, then grips firmly onto your ass. “It’s called wearing clothes—”

He kisses your smart mouth before you could finish talking, all rough and eager with his tongue sweeping into your mouth with fervour. His hand rests behind your head, steadily holding you there as he invades your mouth. Mindlessly, your hands reach up to hold the sides of his face, moaning ever so quietly into his mouth. He’s grabbing you by the hair and pulls you backwards before forcing your head up to stare at the ceiling so he can bend down to suck down the column of your throat.

It’s a ticklish feeling, his warm lips against your skin, sucking and biting his way down your body.

“Mmm, flip over f’me.” He watches you shuffle off his lap onto his bed, resting your head against your pillows as you lay on your back.

Picking up the cigarette he dropped on your bedside table, he fits it between his lips once more as he shifts his way between your legs. The sight beneath him makes him groan and digs his palms into the fat of your thighs as he spreads your legs. 

“Remove your bra.”

More smoke fills the air as you sit up to tug the straps of your bra down and off your body, throwing the lacy fabric onto the end of the bed. Seeing your bare tits makes him groan, instatnly reaching out to grab and squeeze painfully at them.

Your face scrunches up as he fondles them, and takes another drag from his cigarette. “You a virgin?”

“No.”

“Hm.” He blows the smoke out and continues to knead your breast, brushing his thumbs past your nipple. “You single?”

Your lip quivers as the ticklish feeling of his thumb rolling your nipple around fills your veins. “Y—yes.”

He nods, blowing another stream of smoke towards you, flicking his thumb across your hardening nub. He watches you, eyes roaming down the rest of your body, pausing at your panties.

With slow deliberation, he spreads your legs apart, grazing his finger down your slit, barely crossing the barrier of the fabric and your folds. Your breath catches at the touch, letting out a stifled moan as he glides two fingers inside you, slowly stretching you open.

At your quick gasp, his eyes glance back up at yours, studying your expression intently, listening for any sounds that might betray the pleasure he brings you.

You lift yourself off the bed, positioning yourself closer to him and he leans down for a deeper kiss. Your legs wrap around his hips, feeling how large he really is compared to what you’ve been used to.

He lays you back flat on your back, he spreads your legs wider and you press your palm against the mattress to steady yourself. Gripping onto your hip, he grinds his cock into your inner thigh, slick against your own dampness.

“Fuck,” he pants heavily, capturing your mouth again, scraping his teeth agaisnt your lower lip.

Nibbling on his tongue, you reach downwards to his crotch, sticking your hand down his pants and twist your hand against his shaft, twirling the sensitive head around. 

His body tenses under your touch. “Are you on birth control?” He asks without looking at you, eyes only on your hands moving inside his pants.

“Yes.”

He clicks his tongue, looking fairly irritated and bored. “Boring.”

A sudden wave of panic flows through you, and you quickly refute your statement. “I mean, yes but I haven’t taken it in a while. Is that…okay?”

He doesn’t seem interested in answering your question. Instead, his breathing grows heavier and heavier as his hips grind into your touch. Grunts occasionally leave his mouth as his muscles tighten as you begin jerking him faster.

Turning your head slightly, you latch onto his collarbone and neck, pressing light kisses into the skin, hot and bothered at the fact he’s this worked up already.

“Just fucking do it,” he whispers harshly, referring to the hickies you so desperately want to leave on his skin. His fingers tese gently at your clit, giving you the thrill you need to suck hard on his neck.

Swallowing dryly, you dig your nails into his shoulder and rub your hand against the thick shaft of his cock faster. Shifting to the side, you bring your forehead to his and run your nose across his sharp jawline. There’s a sharp intake of breath before his grip around your hip relaxes, pulling himself away, he flips positions till you’re straddling him and pulls his cock out to stand tall against your abdomen. 

“Holy shit, baby,” he growls as you slip inside and ride him in earnest. 

He grips onto your hips and holds onto you roughly as he bounces you along his length, impaling you onto his cock. You feel your body tense up as you reach the edge, pushing against his cock in search of release and squeal into his mouth as your fingers work frantically to stroke your clit.

You scream loudly by his ear, louder than you initially planned to, as you climax. There’s no way you expected someone to make you cum so hard in such a short span of time.

Hanma’s holding onto you so tight you can feel every movement of his hips and cock buried deep inside you, hands gripping your waist firmly to prevent you from sliding off. His tongue latches onto the sensitive underside of your breast, licking hungrily and working up at the intensity of your climax until it takes over completely, overriding all rational thoughts and giving into it’s demanding grasps as his cock continues to thrust inside you.

There’s no real sound left in your lungs as you gulp deeply into his mouth, little gasps of his name escaping your lips as your second orgasm hits its peak. 

Hanma’s mouth forms an O against your nipple when you clench around his cock again, running his tongue along your breast and biting at it as you thrash above him, hips stuttering and twitching eractically as your body tries to recover from the overstimulation.

His breathing comes quicker and his heart pounds wilder, filled with nothing but adrenaline, no doubt the cause of the strength of your climax. You tighten your legs around his waist, loving the feeling of  hugging his larger body against yours as his cock plunges relentlessly into yours.

When he thrusts deep inside you again, filling your insides with warmth and fullness, you whimper at the wet squelch of his cum splattering against your walls. 

You flop forwards onto his chest, a droplet of sweat rolling down the side of your face and panting loudly, wanting nothing more than to curl up in his arms.

“That was good,” he murmurs, and you yelp when he smacks your ass playfully.

The smack vibrates along your flesh, sending goosebumps to cover your entire body.

“Was that ‘boring’ enough for you?” You tease, lifting your face from his neck to stare into his eyes.

He shakes his head, rolling his hips upwards to shut you up once more. His fingers reach downwards, rubbing your slit to coat his fingertips with your juices before bringing it up to his lips, and you watch with wide eyes and parted lips as he sucks the wetness off. 

He brushes his lips against yours. “You taste sweet,” he mutters, nipping at your bottom lip.

You shiver, meeting his kisses with your own, pressing into his mouth. 

“Mmm,” he sighs into your mouth, flicking your tongue with his before pulling away to grab his half diminished cigarette from your bedside table and takes a drag from it.

He leans backwards and scoops you up, tucking you beneath his arm as you lay on his chest. A bright smile crosses his features as you snuggle into his bigger body, but then disappears, looking troubled. He shakes his head slightly, eyes darting towards the corner where his discarded clothes lay.

The smell of smoke becomes too much for you and you pull yourself from his arms, wandering to your closet to fetch some clothes. You change into your pyjamas then go grab your clothes from earlier from your bathroom floor and hang them back into your closet.

He watches you with amused eyes. “C’mere.”

Bending up to pick up his remaining clothes, you toss them to the end of your bed and flop back into the bed with him. His eyes rake up and down your body appreciatively, intently focused on your nipples through your shirt, as you crawl in front of him.

“Let’s get some food,” he suggests, reaching over to your drawer to grab a takeout pamphlet.

You both decide on Chinese and eat it sitting on the couch, facing the TV. Hanma slides closer to you on the leather after he’s finished his own food, and rests his hands on your thighs, his gaze lingering on your mouth as you’re in the midst of chewing a spring roll. 

“I wanna bite those pretty lips again,” he says, pulling the chopsticks away from your hands.

“But I’m hungry,” you frown at the idea of your food getting cold because this motherfucker cannot control his erections. 

He leans forward till you’re laying on your back against the couch and grinds his cock against your half spread legs. 

“Just a quickie, I promise.” he whispers before letting out a heavy sigh when he rolls his hips just right against your pussy.

You know from the looks of him, and his personality, that he’s not the type of guy to mean his promises, and you tell him so, watching as his grin broadens, stretching wider and wider until it cracks his cheeks, making his handsome features nearly unrecognizable.

He ends up sleeping over that night and you spend the rest of Saturday with Hanma makes it his job to come over to your house every other weekend late at night. He’s finally found someone that entertains him, and you found someone that thinks you’re entertaining. Sure enough, you have more common sense to know the way he treats you is sub par. You know him showing up in the middle of the night to fuck you isn’t fair but you don’t fight back, just allow him to practically use your body as a cum dumpster.

That’s actually his favourite nickname for you, cumdump (you frowned and complained when you saw yourself as that in his contacts). There’s also: babe, baby, princess, but he doesn’t call you that unless he’s trying to kiss and goad his way into sleeping with you when you’re in a bad mood, and it always feels very condescending. Everytime he makes you cry with his words, or actions, he’s wiping your tears then kissing you softly to calm you down. Once you’re back in his arms, he’s fucking you, maybe two , three more times until he’s satisfied with how much cum he’s left inside you.

He’s outside all the time . As much as you hope it’s an exaggeration, it’s not. The only times you see him is when he wants you to see him. He’s gone a whole month without contacting you before, and it left you crying everytime you click back on your messages with him, refreshing every five seconds to see if he’s responded to the many texts you’ve spammed him with.

Just leave him , your brain tells you; Hina tells you. And you’ve tried. Once, you told Shuji if he leaves for a long period of time again, then it’s over. 

Of course he didn’t take you seriously, so you blocked him. Then after a few weeks, he started texting you from a burner phone.

I miss u

Can I see u?

Everything inside you crumbled when you saw the messages, and he showed up to your house, high, on a Sunday evening. You can’t remember what he saaid, or what he did, but you found yourself kissing him and pulling him into your house. 

The smell of weed was strong as he tore your panties off, devouring your pussy with his lips and fingers before he fucked you, thrusting into you over and over again.

He flips you over onto your stomach, bending you over the armrest, pressing your body down as he fucked his cock into you from behind, grunting and groaning everytime your pussy clenched around his cock.

“Fuck yes, like that!” you yell over and over again, uncaring of the loud volume of your moans and the slap on slap skin ringing through the thin walls of your apartment.

When you came, you hear him holding back noises, eyes shut as he clutches your ass tight, making sure you don’t squirm away as he fills you with as much cum as possible.

That was a week ago, and of course he hasn’t spoken to you since then, nor has he replied to any of your messages.

You wake up to him on a Saturday morning after a drunk night together. His sleeping features are illuminated by the bright sunlight shining through your open windows. Your cheek rests against his shoulder, mouth half-open and his arm is thrown loosely over you.

It feels nice being here, feeling safe and warm in his arms. Even though he left a week ago, he still manages to fill you with joy, arousal and comfort. In fact, it wouldn’t be a lie to say you couldn’t imagine life without him.

You hum absently, yawning as you rub your tired eyes. All those recent incidents have left you feeling all sorts. Everything about him changed, the games he plays and his attitude towards you. How many times have you been used by him and treated like dirt, thrown away like garbage?

You’ll never forget the time he came to your house ready to fuck you with a fresh, red hickey on his neck.

“Who fucking gave you that, Shuji?” You ask suspiciously, removing his wrist to inspect the red mark. “Why do you keep coming here? Are you really interested in me?”

“Does it matter?” He responds with a blank face.

His purple eyes usually sparkled with lust and arrogance, now fuelled with indifference and confusion. For the first time in your life, you felt hollowed out and alone.

“If it didn’t matter, why would I ask?” You retort.

He smiles thinly, tilting his head slightly. His lips part as if to speak, then close again, a slight frown etched onto his brow.

“Are you okay?” You notice and reach up smooth his messy hair back. 

“You talk too fuckin’ much,” he answers, ignoring your offended face to lean forward to press his lips against yours.

At first you hesitated, unsure whether or not he was serious, but he pushes harder, moving his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing the delicate skin at your temples.

You instinctively wrap your legs around him, opening your mouth to kiss him back. As you lean into him, he groans, slipping his hands down your sides and clutching at your ass. A moan escapes his throat as his tongue darts into your mouth, forcing your body to twist against his, toes curling as he presses into you, grinding his—what seems so—permanement erection into your pelvis.

You try your best to stay awake while staring at the walls of the motel room he paid for to cheer you up. Staring blankly at the small details, the painted lines that slowly become blurred, blending into one another until they all look the same. It almost looks like black smoke unless you blink and make out certain colours. 

You close your eyes to fixate on Hanma instead, seeing his tattoos, hearing his soothing voice as he whispers naughty things to you, half asleep.

You sigh deeply, scratching your cheek lightly. “Where the hell is my phone?” You say aloud, wincing at the sudden pain in your thighs from being fucked so hard.

Fumbling around the drawer, you grab the first phone and clutch it close to your chest, inhaling sharply when you unlock it. The lockscreen is different and you instantly realise it’s Hanma’s. The phone has no password because it’s his burner, but something tells you to check his messages and see tons of texts and nude pictures sent from a girl to that number.

Swinging your legs off the bed, you scoot backwards and put on your shoes.

A wave of nausea crashes into your stomach, heart lurching painfully in your chest as you feel a cold sweat begin to form along your forehead. Your limbs shake as you cross the room, grab your stuff and clutch the doorknob of the motel. Your steps falter for a moment, but you steady yourself and push through the doors, onto the pavement.

Once you hit the late night streets, you feel your breathing start to return to normal, stomach relaxing, shaky legs returning back to normal.

You hurry past the car park, crowded with cars all over and walk quickly to the corner. You see a bus stop sign inddicating you should walk the opposite direction. Instead of walking south, you turn north, going whichever direction feels right because you honestly have no clue how to get home. There aren’t many people this late at night, only a few people strolling around and there are none on the buses at this hour.

Scanning the buildings along the streets, you keep your gaze alert, looking for any signs that say Harajuku Station.

Eventually, you give up, and pull out your phone, swiping away from Hanma’s messages and clicking on Hina’s contact.

Hey can we meet? I just really need a friend right now. Can you come get me?

Hina responds almost instantly: :) okay! Send me your location!

Hina will understand why you need help, won’t judge you or question your motivations. She knows it’s personal, and she’s probably been thinking of ways to let you out of your predicament for weeks now. 

What’s most important to you is the people you surround yourself with. Hina is your only friend, and you love her, but Shuji managed to come in and steal all common sense from you. It feels empty knowing that the only person you have a connection with is Shuji, that you don’t have anyone to fall back on for support, no one to depend on. Just a couple months ago, you were ecstatic to find someone who wasn’t a bad influence in your life, who actually cared about you. But now? Your life is shattered into pieces, the foundations crumbled, broken and buried underneath piles of rubble.

When you get to Hina’s place, Takemichi is there also, but seeing a crying girl makes him panic and he leaves to give you both space. Not soon after he leaves the house, you burst into tears and tell Hina everything; from how Shuji’s mentally ruined you, his cheating, how you can’t help but go back to him each time because you’re addicted to the way he makes you feel. Hina coos softly, nodding and comforts you with hugs and words of assurance. 

She suggests that you leave him, citing what happens to the ones who continue staying with him and ends the conversation with an earnest ‘please’. 

“I have someone for you that can treat you better,” she suggests once you’ve calmed down a bit.

“Who?”

“His name is Kazutora. He’s one of Michi’s friends. If you want, I can introduce you to him if you want?”

Afterwards, you tell her you’ll think about it and she gets her boyfriend to drive you back home. You spend the night on the couch, too busy to go to your room and Hina makes you some hot tea to soothe your sore throat.

Everytime you attempt to think of this Kazutora guy, but you find yourself reliving those moments with Hanma again and again. It’s a vicious cycle, one that’s becoming unbearable. Your brain remembers all of them, even those bits where you thought you might die and got laid afterwards. Your hormones churn, taking complete control of your body, heart rate soaring, blood pressure rising and no amount of alcohol or drugs could help alleviate the physical sensations caused by your years.

You spend the next week laying on the couch, curled into a fuzzy blanket, body soaked in fatigue, guilt and sorrow before Hina helps you get your shit together. Introducing yourself to Kazutora was awkward, but eventually you two got closer as the weeks pass by. 

Still no contact from Shuji.

After a nice date with Kazutora, he takes you home and plants a kiss on your cheek before heading on his merry way. It’s not until you’re removing your makeup in your bathroom when you hear a knock on the door, drawing your attention.

You shuffle towards the door, peeking through the peephole before freezing, nerves running wild. 

What does he want? Did he change his mind? You hope that maybe he’s coming back to apolgoise for being gone for almost a month, hoping to gain your forgiveness even though you should be keeping that door locked.

Your vision narrows to an area directly in front of you, like it’s telescoping inward, slowly reducing your sight until only Hanma is visible. 

Heart pounding heavily, pushing blood through your veins faster than you’d like, your body fills with thick tension and anxiety. 

There’s another knock on the door when you take too long to open, this time harder and louder.

“Coming,” you call, voice wavering slightly, trying your hardest to sound confident, like all the progress you’ve spent healing weren’t about to crumble the second he steps inside your place.

Shuji enters, carrying himself with ease and confidence. He stands in the doorway, surverying the room. The air in the room instantly changes, the stale air swirling around and leaving behind it a thick cloud of moisture. Hanma’s features soften, taking on a pensive expression as he begins to enter the apartment.

He notices a pair of male sneakers resting in the hallway and his jaw tightens, brow furrowing, and arms folding across his chest as he scans the interor of your room. Your clothes law strewn across the floor, tossed haphazardly around the living room, abandonded before you had a chance to pick them up from your previous night with Kazutora

Tension builds in your stomach once you realise what he’s seen, fear welling up inside you, making it difficult to swallow.

Slowly, he turns around to take in your position, glaring daggers at you through narrowed eyes. 

His eyes bore holes through you, and there’s an intense fire burning hot and deep within them. If you squinted, you’d swear that the red flames emanating from them are mocking you.

“Get on the bed.” He commands quietly, and his not-so-harsh tone does nothing but scare you even more.

You mindlessly obey, treading carefully, like the calm before the storm. He snatches your chin and tips your head up to examine your features closely. “Spread your legs.”

You lift your skirt up and pull your panties down, spreading your legs as instructed. Taking a step forward, he stares at you with anger and disdain. “How long has this been goin’ on?” His eyebrows draw together when he sees you fumble with words. “Have you been sleeping with him since the beginning?”

Tears sting at your eyes, lips trembling as you hesitate, strugglign to form a reply. 

“Answer me,” he demands loudly, tightening his gips on your chin.

“Just—just the last couple days—” you whisper nervously, biting your bottom lip, taking a quick glance at the bed. “I’m sorry—”

He shoves you down onto the mattress, standing over you with menacing slowness. 

“Shut up.” He grows lowly, tanking down your shirt and shoving it roughly to your neck, ignoring the way it rips beneath your skin and throws your bra to the floor.

Your nipples ache painfully from the aggression, yearning to be touched and caressed. All thoughts of apologising forgotten as his grip clenches and pulls, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lungs.

Your squirm under his hold, eyes darting to his face and pleading for him to remove his hands. It seems as if he senses your desperate plea, unclenching his hold just enough for you to breathe. His dark, brooding gaze drops to your naked body and lingers, analyzing you intently.

“Did he ever tell you how much he loves you?” he asks quietly, licking his lips, eyes following the movement of your breasts, rising and falling with each uneven breath you take. “Did he make you feel good?”

Nerves pulse through your body, goosebumps breaking out along your skin. You know what’s happening is wrong, this isn’t supposed to happen, yet somehow you still enjoy the feeling.

Tilting your head, you attempt to ignore his questions and press your lips against his nose, kissing it once.

“ Don’t .” He snarls, tightening his hold and pulls you closer to him. “Don’t answer me. Because if I find out he did, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

Eyes squeeze shut, mouth pulled into a firm line, you bite your tongue hard and clamp your teeth down on it to keep silent. Your hands fly to cover your face as he slams his cock into you, kissing you hard and forceful. This is the moment you’re not sure you’ll be able to comeback from, if you let him fuck you, you’re unsure you’ll be able to face Kazutora anymore. But the way his tongue pushes its way between your lips, touching the tip to your own and sliding it along the roof of your mouth have your thoughts going hazy and you give in.

His movements are fast, controlled, seductive, and deadly. He knows what he’s doing, and uses the knowledge of your body to his full advantage, never allowing you to relax or remove his stranglehold on your neck.

And then you feel him, everywhere at once. It’s so overwhelming feeling his cock split you open with each painful thrust, sending an electric current surging through your body. The bed shakes with every thrust and he pulls out to flip you over. Your hips writhe rhythmatically, anticipating the moment he slams back into you before you have a better idea.

You change the positions, pushing him down to the bed and straddle him. He looks at you, chest heaving and eyes glazed with lust.

“Touch me,” he whispers huskily, lacing his fingers through yours and gently guiding your hands upwards, pressing them against his torso. “Feel how hard you make me, baby.”

You slide your palms over his smooth, warm skin, muscles twitching with each stroke as you travel downwards. You slip your fingers underneath the hem of his sweatshirt and trail them upwards, carressing and massaging the ridges of his abs. Goosebumps break out on his flesh, skin rippling with every touch you give, becoming slick with perspiration.

“If you see him again,” he pants when you begin to jerk his cock, looking down at him with those eyes that drive him crazy. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him and make you watch.”

You freeze and tears stream down your cheeks, soaking your jawling and dripping off your chin when you realise he’s being serious. 

“What do you mean?” you ask weakly, shaking your head, trying to clear it. You wipe the tears away quickly, and hold his stare. “A—are you threatening me?”

You start moving your hands away, and immediately he grabs them again and places them back on his cock, watching in rapt attention as he guides your hands to continue stroking him.

“You fuckin’ heard me,” he says lowly, growing agitated. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare see him.”

His grip on your hand grows tighter and more painful.

“Shu—” you whimper, tugging on his hands to get him to release you. “Let go—”

With a swift push, he flips you over onto your back, catching you effortlessly as you collapse backwards, stunned by his sudden aggressive attitude. Before you have time to react, he’s positioned above you, bent over at the waist, hands digging into your shoulders, exerting downward force.

“Hanma!” you cry out, gripping his shoulders writhing underneath him as he thrusts his cock back inside you. He lifts your hips up and holds you there, arching your back off the bed as you scrabble at the sheets, too overwhelmed with each powerful thrust.

“I hate you,” he growls, smacking his hips against your ass with brute force. “This’ll teach you not to fuck around. You’re—fuck— mine .”

It hurts. So fucking badly. But even after everything, you still love him. It’s painful, and torture, but you find yourself moaning loud and repetitively as he pushes his cock deeper and deeper into you. Every motion sends a new wave of pleasure coursing through your entire body, building up and up until you cannot take it anymore.

In the end, your knees buckle, and he supports your weight, slowing down and withdrawing his erection to cum on your stomach. For the first time since you’ve met him, he didn’t cum inside you. It’s a shock to you as you feel his warm cum on your stomach. 

A groan escapes his throat, one that sounds entirely different from the angry groan from earlier. It’s quiet, hesitant, and filled with regret.

You roll onto your side, gaze seeping across his distorted face. For a brief second, he seems to be looking at you, not seeing anything else but you. Then his eyes dart downwards, following the path of your body to your cum stained stomach.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he mutters, kissing the corner of your eye and crawling off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom.

As soon as you hear the water running, you begin making your way into the bathroom with him.

Naked and covered in sweat, you want nothing more than to wash away your stress. It seems as if it was just yesterday that he stormed his way into your life, determined to let you know how little you mattered to him. And now? 

Well, you don’t know how to feel anymore. It’s all confusing and disoreientating. 

You step into the shower with Hanma and stand behind him. 

Out of nowhere, he asks, “Do you love me?”

You hesitate for a moment and look down at your feet on the shower floor. “I do…but I don’t want to.”

The harsh words cut him, but his back straightens slightly. His voice turns firm, decisive. “Tell me the truth.”

Closing your eyes tightly, you sigh, opening them again to stare at him. He stares back, almost earnestly, daring you to admit the truth.

Considering the question carefully, you exhale. “Yes. Of course I do.”

His expression shifts instantly, eyes narrowing as his hand drops to his side with the shower head. A slow nod comes forth, as if convincing himself of something important. The shower suddenly falls silent as the water hits the side of the tub instead, and the both of you share the tense silence. It’s uncomfortable, the sound of the water echoing in the empty space.

“But…” You’re the first to break the silence. “I think we should stop seeing each other, Shu. It’s not healthy, what we have.” He stays silent as you continue to speak. “I feel like you’re using me…to satisfy your needs.” 

You look at his back as you wipe a tear from your cheek. “And I stupidly enough grew attached to you. But I want to end it. I—I can’t keep doing this.” Your voice goes quiet at the end and the room is filled with silence again.

The light overhead crackles and fizzles, adding to the already tense environment as the brightness dims. You glance towards the flickering bulb, resting crookedly on the ceiling.

“Okay.” He sighs, turning away. His hand brushes the edge of the shower head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have come here today.”

It’s scary to lose him and you can’t breathe properly. And it’s even more scary to admit that maybe he was right, that it wasn’t fair to come here today. A reminder to you how weak and pathetic you really were.

Hanma stands there, turning to face you, leaning against the wall. 

Silent.

Judging.

He waits. Until he feels ready to say what’s bothering him. It’s hard for him to get the words out, but he no longer feels fearful, or ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

His simple words send you flying back into his arms, tears flowing freely as you sob uncontrollably against his neck. He lets you cling to him, bury your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. His arms tighten around you, fingers tracing and scratching lightly along your spine.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he admits softly, lifting his hand to tilt your head back to look at you closer. “I’ve been thinking about things lately, and I realised I need to change my attitude towards you.” He rocks you back and forth in his arms, soothingly. “Even if it means ending our relationship. You deserve better.”

“Hanma,” you cry out softly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.  You bury your nose back in his shoulder, inhaling deeply. 

Fuck, he smells wonderful, like sweat and musky cologne, always so overpowering and strong. 

And you realise he still hasn’t told you goodbye.

A part of you wishes you could go on together, sleeping together. It’s not hard to deny you’ve fallen in love with him, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, to the point where you feel hollow without him. When you’ve lost someone that close to you, it leaves you feeling isolated and lonely.

You’ve never felt more alone. Like everything you had build is collapsing beneath you. 

But another aprt of you yearns for companionship. A partner that reciprocates the same love you give back. Maturing realises that you’ll never get that with Shuji, and as much as you love him, you know it won’t last forveer. 

It would end with you getting hurt. Or worse.

All these thoughts swirl around your mind, clouding your judgement.

“I…can understand why you’d be frustrated with me,” he lets out a dry chuckle, completely humourless. “We’ve grown close in such a short amount of time. It’s fair to cut it off now.” His breath tickles your ear as he presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s obvious we’re not right for each other. We both know it, so why are we still trying?”

Such a good question that you can’t find the answer for. You try to remain calm and collected, fighting the emotions inside you. The light buzz above your head again, casting a strange shadow of your figures over the wall. The water trickles slowly down your skin, creating more goosebumps on your exposed arms and legs.

You wish you could just drown yourself in the vast ocean surrounding you.

Instead, you stay there, in his arms, enjoying the warmth feel of his chest against you, the water stinging your face as the glassy reflection in the shower door remind you of your situation.

Then he says the words you’ve been dreading to hear. 

“I’m leaving.”

He speaks it directly into your ear, with a slight edge of nervousness creeping into his voice.

You stay still, body rooted in place, holding onto him for support as he continues, “I’ll make sure you’re okay. I’m not gonna abandon you, so don’t fall off the deep end, alright?” 

His hand cups your chin, tilting your head back up to stare into your eyes. A soft smile plays on his lips, water drops falling off the tip of his nose as he looks down at you with a slight light in his eyes.

And in that moment, you decide.

“Hanma,”

He blinks at you and you notice the dark circles under his eyes, due to the lack of sleep and exhaustion.

You lean forward and kiss him passionately, wrapped tight in his arms, heart thumping widely in your chest.

“Say goodbye to me, Shuu,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip as his lips graze your forehead, planting soft kisses across your eyelids and cheeks.

He finally gives in, parting his lips and speaking softly into your ear. 

“Goodbye, baby.”

For a split second, you kind of expected him to say ‘I love you’ or perhaps some sort of heartfelt goodbye that’ll make you break down in tears. Instead, he presses a final kiss to your jawline, whispering, “Have fun,” before slipping out of the shower.

You stay in the bathroom as you hear him pack up his stuff and get dressed.

Silence reigns supreme once he’s gone, a weight hanging over your shoulders. The tears fall freely, silently, as your mind races. Should you stay with Shuji and let Kazutora go? Would Kazu forgive you? Could he forgive you?

You blink the tears away and step out of the shower, drying yourself up before dressing up. You attempt to go to the living room to Hanma off when you hear your doorbell ring. 

Hanma is finishing dressing up as you walk over to the door, towel in arms to dry your hair. 

You open the door and see Kazutora waiting, flowers in hand, staring down at you. 

“Hey,” you answer sheepishly, forgetting he told you he’s coming to get you tonight.

Kazutora purses his lips. “Are you ready to go out now? You’re not dressed yet.”

Before you can respond, Hanma slips past the door, clutching his phone in hand. He glances between you and Kazutora and frowns, tempted to say something but stops himself, because he knows you deserve better.

“Yeah, sorry I took so long. Hanma wanted to give me something before I left.”

Kazutora knows you’re both lying, but nods and smiles faintly. The redness in your eyes is telling enough.

Your relationship/friendship with Hanma isn’t just shallow, it’s unhealthy. But then again, Kazutora did tell you that if you plan on becoming something, you shouldn’t be fucking Hanma, nor letting him in your life.

“Alright, then.” Kazutora nods and takes a step backwards to let Shuji pass. 

Hanma makes it halfway down the steps of your apartment before Kazutora calls his name. “Thanks, Shuji.”

Hanma shares one more look at you, biting your lip to stop it trembling, and fights the urge to scoop you up from the floor and take you home with him. But he stops himself. “Yeah, whatever.”

[a-casual-kpopfan]

Concert Joy - Hyeju

You are uncomfortable.

“Oh my god, I can’t contain my excitement!”

“Me too! I’ve been waiting for this day for so long!”

It’s not as if you aren’t looking forward to the concert. Let it be known that you were one of the earliest people to book the tickets, right as the website opens. It’s just…

“Kya! I can’t wait! I’m going to see him up close!”

You bought the tickets so that you can come here and enjoy the music and live performances from one of your favorite artists, and not listen to almost 100 thousand people yelling their lungs out due to excitement.

If you had it your way, you would have been content to just stay at home and wait for some low-quality videos that will be uploaded later on YouTube. But things rarely ever go your way, well, at least when it comes to her.

“Isn’t this exciting, hun?” Directly to your right you can see your girlfriend’s excited face as she looks around in awe of the venue, and the numbers of people surrounding her.

“Well,” you take a few minutes to formulate an answer in your mind. “Partially. You do know I prefer somewhere quiet to enjoy music.”

“Don’t be such a party pooper.” Hyeju scrunches her face. “You can’t always hide inside the house; you need to go out and experience things like this as well.”

You hum at her answer, chuckling slightly. “You’re making me sound like I’m a shut in.”

“Well, you’re basically one.” Hyeju snickers, earning a flick on her forehead, courtesy of you. “Hey!”

“Am not. I just don’t like going to crowded place.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. But you must admit, this place is so huge.” Knowing that staying on the current topic might just bring your mood down, Hyeju diverts to a different one. “How many people can this place hold?”

“As of now, we have more or less 100 thousand people in the venue.”

“100 thousand people, just to see a single person perform…” Hyeju falls silent at the thought, seemingly thinking of something.

“What’s on your mind?” Seeing your excited girlfriend’s mood suddenly fall off worries you for a bit, especially when it’s her who wants to attend the concert in the first place.

“Nothing, really. It’s just” Hyeju pauses, looking around “I don’t know, I’m just jealous, in a way? Like, imagine 100 thousand people gathering in one place to see you perform, how would that feel I can’t even imagine.”

“Well, maybe you should have auditioned to become an idol back then.” You chuckle, waiting to see Hyeju’s elbow hitting your arm as per usual. But instead of that, you are met with a crestfallen Hyeju, who’s fidgeting with her hands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” You lean against her, placing a soft kiss on top of her head along with your apology.

Hyeju remains silent, which worries you greatly since the girl has never let you off without a snarky comment of her own. Her silence speaks volume, and that means you fucked up.

Fortunately for you, it is right then that the concert started with the idol walking onto the stage, giving you an excuse to brighten Hyeju’s mood up.

-----

Your ears are in pain.

And not just your ears, you can feel your heart beating loudly to each beat of the music, which can be said a lot about your current state of being. Many associate that feeling with excitement, with enthusiasm and exhilaration.

But not for you, you feel suffocated, and overwhelmed. You feel exhausted from your heart beating so loudly, and you feel that your eardrums are ringing loudly, giving you fear that they might erupt at any given moment with all the yelling around you.

Surrounding you on all sides is a sea of excited people yelling their lungs out to cheer for the idol. your girlfriend included. It truly didn’t take much to cheer her up. One minute into the first song, and she is already singing along with her low, but warm voice that you can barely appreciate with all the other voices from the surrounding audience. Really now, why is it so hard for a guy to appreciate his girlfriend’s voice?

Of course, with all the loud music and yelling around you means that you can’t help but focus onto the performance itself instead of distractedly falling into your own thoughts like usual. While the performances are good, you can’t help but lament the fact that you can’t really hear it all that well with the yelling mixed in. You’ll have to watch it again on YouTube then.

But then, you glance to your side, seeing Hyeju genuinely enjoying her time at the concert, even if her yelling is one of the main causes giving your eardrums their ringing. If Hyeju is happy, you don’t really mind.

And so, you reign over your annoyances and enjoy the music and performances, since you have already paid for it.

Things are going well, that is, until….

“Kyaa!! Oppa!”

“Oppa! Notice me!”

“Oppa! Oppa!”

“I love you, oppa!”

Oh yeah, this.

As if the combined voice of 100 thousand people isn’t enough to deafen your ears, the cheering really takes things up another notch, with how random and chaotic they are.

It’s ok, it’s fine, you think to yourself. This is normal. Fans just really love their idols, you understand. You keep telling yourself that and just try to enjoy the music.

“Oppa! I love you!” You feel your heart drop as you hear Hyeju’s voice joining in with the cheering. Despite thinking rationally to yourself that this is normal, you can’t help but be shocked a bit.

How long did it take her to say it to you? How long did you have to wait to hear it from her own voice? And this idol just…gets to hear it? Like that?

Safe to say, the rest of the concert goes by with you hardly paying attention to the performances, feeling like a puppet whose strings were cut off.

-----

After a few hours later, you now find yourself back in the comfort of your bed, resting away from the long day. Well, as best as you can of course, because your mind seems to not want to give you a break.

Tossing and turning for a bit, you end up laying on your side, thinking back to the concert and the cheering that you’ve heard. Certainly, it isn’t uncommon to hear cheering like that. You have followed the idol scene enough to know that cheering can be considered somewhat common, so your girlfriend joining in the cheering should be normal. It is completely normal.

But why do you feel so disheartened still?

Letting out a sigh, you decide that it would be better to try and sleep than torment yourself further with useless questions that only serve to keep you awake at night. However, imagine your surprise when you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your torso, and a presence pressing against your back. Didn’t she fall asleep the moment she lay down on the bed?

“Did I wake you up?” You feel her head nodding against your back.

“I’m sorry. Let’s go to sleep now-” You hold onto her arm, rubbing it gently as she hugs your chest from behind “You were thinking something again, weren’t you?” Hyeju interrupts you, sounding not as sleepy as you thought.

“I’m sorry?”

“You were thinking of something. That’s why you weren’t asleep yet.” Before you have the chance to counter, Hyeju continues “It was the cheering, wasn’t it?”

“…” Hyeju hits the bullseye, making your tongue tied for a while.

Taking your silence as confirmation, she then rolls you onto your back as she leans her body up, resting her arms underneath her chin as her eyes look at you, smiling gently.

“I was caught up in the moments so much, I failed to realize that I hurt you unintentionally. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s not your fault. I was just being dramatic, as usual.” You manage to say something, your hands reaching up stroke her messy hair gently. Hyeju leans slightly against your palm, humming a bit.

“You know. I realized something at the concert.” She says, with you raising an eyebrow as your response.

“You know people always say that idols are humans too, and that they deserve to be respected and not to be put on a pedestal.” You are losing her more and more as she goes on. “But a part of me believes that: being an idol means that you are already putting yourself on the pedestal to be admired by everyone, to show your best self to the whole world.”

“Uhm-” You are once again interrupted by Hyeju placing a finger on your lips.

“Shush, let me finish please.” You nod. “Thank you hun. So, what I was saying is that idols are meant to be admired and appreciated from afar. They do not know each one of their fans, and they can’t be blamed for that. You can love them all you want, but inevitably they can’t reciprocate it. Because they might not even know who you are.”

 Hyeju head lowers down to your chest, her ears resting right above your heart, feeling every beat of it. “Me cheering for him like that doesn’t mean that I truly love him the way that I love you. I am not delusional enough to think that one day my favorite idol might notice me thanks to some random luck, and he magically falls for me. That just isn’t happening.” Her hand finds its way to yours, intertwining softly.

“The love I have for him, simply is the admiration and appreciation I have for him as a fan for all his music and effort. That’s it.” Her head is raised again, now hovering above your face, as you can feel her shoulder length tickling your face a bit, but you don’t mind, as you gaze into her eyes.

“Honey, the love I have for you, is indescribable. I love you with everything you do, no matter how big or small, no matter how smart or stupid.” She smiles, ever so gently. “With you, I can be myself wholly, without afraid of showing you my best or worst, because you’ve already seen and embraced me for who I am.” She lowers ever so slightly, your lips touching for a quick kiss. “An idol might never reciprocate the love I have for them, but you are different. When idols inevitably retire, new ones shall replace the old. But no one can ever replace you.”

“I love you, so, so much. I’m sorry for making you worried, but I’m also thankful that you indulged me so much.” Without waiting to hear your reply, she places her head at the crook of your neck, digging herself deeper into you.

“I love you too.” You finally process enough of her words to utter three words. Yet she can feel your sincerity. Of course, she can, she’s your girlfriend.

“That is obvious, stupid. Let’s get some sleep.”

Wordlessly, you embrace Hyeju, laying there listening to her breathing until it becomes even again, before managing to slip into sleep, your mind truly at ease.

What is but a few simple cheering when you already have her heart, and she yours? ~~~~~~

A/N: A little piece I wrote up for CKF and I hitting 2k followers recently, I will personally be taking a break from writing as life is catching up to me. I'm sure CKF can handle things without me for a little bit.

Till we meet again. - Ghost

[avoicebehindthestars]

No Feelings So In Unison (Good Omens fanfic)

Right, I figured it's time I shared my newest fanfic "properly".

rating: G

Length: 6k words (oneshot)

Summary: Overwhelmed by the all-encompassing brightness and endless vastness, Aziraphale manages to sneak out of heaven.

Excerpt:

Crowley hesitated again. His brows furrowed as pain crept onto his features. Of course, safety (Aziraphale’s safety) came first, but that didn’t mean the demon wasn’t hurting. He now smacked his lips and sighed.

‘Do you want me here?’ he asked, the same defeated voice that had been resonating in Aziraphale’s mind ever since that ill-fated morning, despite the passage of time.

The angel was so, so glad he had made it rain. He could only hope the raindrops would mask it when the tears building up in his eyes would inevitably overflow. Still, as he nodded, he could do nothing about the quiver of his chin.

‘Kay,’ said Crowley, but rather than joining the angel on the bench, he crouched in front of him to meet him at eye-level.

Aziraphale was wishing so hard that he could remember a single scenario, a single opening line of the countless speeches he had rehearsed ad nauseam for when he met Crowley again. I’m so sorry. I was wrong. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know what to do. I never should have… Please, give me another chance. Forgive me. I need you. I can’t do this without you.

I love you.

Yet, nothing sounded right, nothing was coherent. It felt as if an impenetrable wall had risen somewhere between his mind and his lips. Messages crashed like angry waves against this dam that held them, so desperate to get across, but instead only scattering into a chaotic whirlpool where he could no longer make head or tails of any single thought.

‘So what happened?’ Crowley broke the silence, his voice a little less distant.

Aziraphale opened his mouth, but words still wouldn’t come. How could he even begin to explain?

‘Did they kick you out?’ Crowley tried guessing.

Another head shake was all he could manage.

‘Did you run?’

‘S-sort of,’ Aziraphale finally forced his speech apparatus to obey, though each syllable spilled out of his mouth in a clumsy murmur. ‘N-not quite. Just… for a while. I, I couldn’t… It was all… All so… so…’

He began gasping despite himself. It frustrated him how hard it was to formulate simple concepts into plain sentences. The frustration made his thoughts even more scattered. His lips, his cheeks, his tongue and his limbs felt so numb as if they weren’t even parts of his body. He felt he would either be sick or start crying any moment.

‘Bright and empty?’ Crowley supplied to the angel’s massive relief. ‘Yeah, you never did like it. Neither of us did. Always jumping at the first excuse to get away from the office, do some fieldwork instead.’

Inspired by: this tumblr post and this fanart

A massive thank you for the GOAD WG members for helping me choose the setting!

@goodomensafterdark

[a-small-tragedy]

And so... Hi!

Usually my name is Korzh, but you can call me Bernard! My pronouns are he/his. You may know me from the Topher art. But recently I had posts written about me with extremely dubious content and I want to refute these disgusting accusations in my direction. 

Let's get right to the point, I'm NOT a PROSHIPPER AND I'VE NEVER BEEN ONE.

The first and most terrible is the accusation of pedo content. I've always drawn characters older than they are in the show. I myself am very uncomfortable with sexual undertonesbetween 16-year-olds, so I made them older for my comfort. That being said, the characters both on my nsfw artworks as well as regular ones are OF AGE!

Also, in my defense, I want to show a post that I made the DAY BEFORE.

Context: I drew my favorite characters dynamics, but some people started commenting adult and child pairs, so I made a post.

Translation: JULY 5TH 9:54 Guys, if there is a child or an animal in your ship dynamics, then I may have questions for you...  Just a warning, I never thought that it would be necessary to introduce a rule for this, in my group!

I tried to be as correct and gentle in my statements as possible, because I couldn't know for sure with which intent these characters were shown in the first place. But later I realized that it was just a misunderstanding, I did not indicate that it was a romantic relationship, people misunderstood me, so I deleted the post :D

But as you can see, I'm generally AGAINST THIS KIND OF STUFF.

Speaking of misunderstandings.....I was also accused of Transphobia based on a deleted post.

Probably not everyone knows, but I am trans myself! It was very hard to accept, because I was constantly faced with transphobia in my address from people in reality and the Internet.

As for the deleted post, it really looks terrible. The fact is that unfortunately, while writing, I mixed two ideas at once( The first one was that I can't really imagine Topher being in a relationship with a girl. The second one was supposed to tell about the ideas for an art with T Joan and T Topher.

But in the process of writing, I couldn't formulate the idea correctly, and it turned out like THIS... IT WASN'T UNTIL A FEW MINUTES LATER THAT I REALIZED WHAT I HAD DONE AND I WAS REALLY SORRY, SO I DELETED THE POST SO AS NOT TO UPSET PEOPLE. My trans friend reassured me that it didn't hurt her, but I still felt terrible, so I completely refused to implement that idea.

I'm really sorry about that post, but I didn't think that people would just take it out of context and want to cancel me without understanding the situation. Now I understand that I should have apologized for it right away. But what happened happened.

Also I tried to contact these people just to talk, but the only person who knows their contacts refused to help.

Addition: Some people on Twitter pointed out my nationality, yes, I am Russian and do not support the authorities in my country. WELL, APPARENTLY, NOT EVERYONE KNOWS THAT 2 OUT OF 3 PEOPLE WHO WROTE THE POST WITH THE CANCELLATION ARE RUSSIANS THEMSELVES. AHAHAHAHAHAH Addition 2: Already at the time of writing, the authors of the post compared me to a real terrible person and began to blackmail me by setting conditions. I can't describe how disgusted I am with this whole situation. Shall these words and actions be on their own responsibility, if they have any left. To the rest, thank you for reading and taking the time! Your support has helped me to deal with this. Special thanks to everyone who helped translate this text ahahah, I'm really not very good at this... If you have any questions, you can ask them in the comments or an anonymous ask!  Bye!