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scarlethexelove · 1 year ago

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Our Omega

Pairing: Alpha!WandaNat x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 5155

Warnings: Smut, Wanda and Nat have a penis, Soft!Nat, Rough!Wanda, Heat, Mating mark, Knotting, Breeding, Someone tries to attack reader but Wanda and Nat stop them, Hints to lactation kink, I really don't think there is much else.

Pt 2, Pt 3

A/n: I really hope this isn't shit. I really liked writing this. Wanda isn't too rough in this one but definitely rougher than Nat. Just sweet alphas who don't treat their sweet Omega like shit.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The door chimes causing your gaze to lift to the opening door. You’re shocked to see the people walking through the door. The Avengers have just walked through the door of your small bakery. Leading the group is the pack leader along with her mate. Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, two alpha’s. The rest of the mostly alpha pack followed close behind. Normally so many alpha’s in an area won’t bother you but with you so close to your heat and being an unmated omega is making it difficult with all of them around. You put on a mask knowing you need to be your best when the most famous people in the world are in your bakery.

With a wide smile you greet the group. “Hi, I’m Y/n. We have a wide array of baked goods for you to choose from. Just let me know what you would like and I’ll get them all ready for you.” Wanda tilts her head looking at you curiously but you just give her soft smile back. Nat is also watching you but you can’t seem to read her. The gaze of both the alpha’s on you causes a light dusting of pink to cover your cheeks. The rest of the group looked around to see what they wanted to eat.

Nat clears her throat. “Everyone wait outside.” She demands the rest. “But I want to look.” Tony whines. Nat turns to look at the rest. “I said wait outside. We will get everyone something.” Nat’s demanding tone has your inner omega wanting to submit causing you to shrink in on yourself. As the rest go to wait outside the two alpha’s turn back to you noticing you’re dropped head and smaller form. “I’m so sorry mega. I thought it would be easier without everyone.”

You wanted to be thankful for what she did but at the same time you need to be able to handle a room full of alpha’s if you want to have a successful business. But you know she just meant well by her actions. You lift your head and give her a small smile. Brushing off your previous distress and ready to help the two women with everything they need.

With less alpha’s in the room their scents invade your senses. One of their scents laced with cinnamon and spices, reminding you of fall. The other smelling of sweet vanilla. Both of their scents are intoxicating already. Both women are very attractive but you know you can’t think like that they are already a mated pair and they probably wouldn’t want an omega like you. So you push it out of your mind and focus on running your business.

“What can I get for you?” You ask the women. They look around for a minute before Nat speaks up. “Two of everything.” You can’t help the look of shock at the woman's order. “A-are you sure?” She gives you a kind smile. “Yes please.” You nod and start moving around to get everything you need. “Of course. I’ll have everything ready for you in a few minutes.” You move around the area gracefully. Throwing in a few extras as you go. Wanting nothing more than to satisfy the Avengers.

You can feel their eyes following you but you are in your groove currently. Once you are done with everything they come up to the counter and Natasha pulls out her wallet. You wave your hands and shake your head. “No, no, no. It’s on the house, my treat. You guys do so much for the city. The least I can do is give you guys some food.” Nat shakes her head back at you. “I’m not sure your boss would like that. Also I insist.” She starts pulling out money ready to pay. “I’m actually the owner so I can give you whatever I want.” You tell the alpha. You would normally never talk back to an alpha, especially an Avenger but you want to get your point across. But neither of them are going to take no for an answer. Wanda takes some money out of Nat’s hands and gives it to you. You look down at the cash and back up at the alpha’s. You can tell by the looks on their faces that they will not take no for an answer. So you look back down at the cash in your hand and gasps. “This is way too much.” In your hand is almost $500 dollars, way more than what it cost to get everything.

Both alpha’s shake their heads. “Keep it. You deserve it.” Wanda says. She has the softest and kindest smile you have ever seen. “I-I-I don’t think I can take this.” You stutter trying to hand some of the money back but neither of them will have it. Wanda takes your hands in hers. “Please take it.” You look at her hands around yours and then back up to her face. A small blush covering your face when you nod. “Okay.” You say barely above a whisper. She smiles before she and Nat take the baked goods, making their way out leaving you shocked.

That is how your friendship with the Avengers started. After that day you saw at least one of them once a week. Sometimes alone and sometimes the whole team would come in. You built a friendship with each member but as they continue to come a crush on the two women formed. They were always so sweet and kind with you. Nat plays up a big persona of being hard and little emotion but you can see right through that facade. Which only makes your crush grow stronger, but you know you can’t act on it. So you leave it at that just a crush.

With the Avengers frequenting your bakery your business picks up exponentially. You had to hire more employees to help you keep up. One of those being your best friend Kate Bishop. You thank the Avengers for their business and the fact they have brought in more customers for you. Always trying to give them free food but none of them ever take it.

Today wasn’t like other days. You had 3 call offs and your heat was quickly approaching. You thought that you had a few more days but as the day drags on you know you won’t make it. You have already called Kate who had the day off hoping she could cover. She of course said she would but it would take her some time to get there. So now you’re fighting your heat and just waiting for her to get here.

The room is filled with alpha's, some of them pausing to look at you. A hungry look in their eyes as they realize what is going on with you. You want to run and hide but you can’t leave the store unattended so you suck it up the best you can. That is until a wave of burning stabbing pain hits your lower abdomen. You wrap your arms around your stomach, hunching over as you hold in a whimper. You don’t even hear the ringing of the bell as another patron enters the building. Another stronger wave has you crumbling to the ground, a whimper escaping your lips.

You can now faintly hear a commotion but you can’t focus on the words or voices. You look up seeing an alpha about to jump over the counter when they are pulled back harshly. There is a commanding roar of an alpha that causes you to whine and bare your neck waiting for the alpha to approach. You wish your inner omega was stronger but with your heat here you can’t control it. Two alpha’s approach you quickly crouching down next to you. You let out another whine and strain your neck more.

“Oh milaya, none of that.” Wanda’s hand cups your cheek. Both of their scents invade your senses, calming you down slightly. You can’t help but nuzzle her hand causing her and the other woman to smile at you. A whimper escapes as another wave of pain courses through you. Leaving the women concerned for you. They have been falling for you just as much as you for them but they were worried you wouldn’t like them back or want to be involved with Avengers.

Just then Kate rushes in the door, her eyes scanning the room seeing that there had been a scuffle. Concerned for your safety when she can’t see you. She knows your heat is close, that is until she catches a whiff of your scent. She knows that you have gone into heat and how dangerous it is for you to have been here. She rushes around the counter stopping when she sees you curled in on yourself as Nat and Wanda crouch next to you. Wanda’s hand is still on your cheek. She lets out a growl at the woman. She knows that you aren’t in any danger with them but she instinctively wants to protect you while you’re so vulnerable. Neither of them move their concern only on you.

“Kate, we are here to help. We don’t want to hurt her.” Nat speaks calmly to the other omega. Kate looks from them back to you. She can see you, how you're trying to nuzzle in further to Wanda. She lets out a sigh. “Sorry alpha.” She puts her head down. Becoming part of the Avengers pack as Yelena’s omega has gotten her close to them and she didn’t want to disrespect the pack leader. “It’s ok. I know you are only trying to protect your friend.” Nat moves closer to you leaning down and moving to pick you up. She acts slowly to give you the chance to pull away but you don’t. It makes the woman smile as she picks you up. You quickly wrap yourself tightly around her and nuzzle into her scent gland. Breathing in her cinnamon scent that calms you.

“I think we will take her to the compound, she will be safe there. I don’t trust that after those alphas coming after her that she will be safe. They could easily follow her home.” Nat speaks to both Wanda and Kate. They both nod in agreement. “Kate, do you have this here?” Nat asks as she holds you closer to her. “Yeah I think I got this.” Kate replies before the door chimes. All three women go on defense growling at the scent of another alpha but all calm when they realize who it is. Kate’s mate Yelena struts through the door holding up her hands in surrender to the three as you whimper in Nat’s arms.

Yelena smirks at the older alpha when she sees you in her arms, wrapped tightly around the woman like a koala. Nat rolls her eyes when she sees how her sister is looking at her. “Lena!” Kate says bouncing over to her and throwing her arms around her neck pecking her lips. Yelena’s hands placed firmly on Kate’s hips. “Yel help Kate out here we are taking Y/n to the compound. Some alphas attacked so maybe help her clean up a bit.” Yelena looks around at the mess brows furrowed as Nat speaks. That is until she catches your sweet scent. Instantly understanding your predicament and understanding why the three were growling at her as she came in the door.

“Please be careful you two.” Wanda tells the alpha and her omega, handing Kate some money. Kate looks at the money and then back up to Wanda confused. “For damages.” Wanda explains. Kate is about to argue back about that but the look Wanda gives her tells her there is no room for that. She is second in command of the pack and will not take no for an answer. So Kate gives her a nod moving to start cleaning up the place, Yelena helping her mate clean as the two women leave with you.

Once the alphas get you to the compound they take you to the spare bedroom next to theirs not wanting to overstep any boundaries you might have. It has been hard for them to fight their inner alphas to not to just claim you as theirs. You’re currently wrapped around Wanda tightly as she walks into the room. She goes to put you on the bed but you don’t let go. “Malyshka can you let go?” She asks softly, but your only response is to shake your head and whine. Being in their arms is the most comfort you have had in a long time dulling the ache.

So the women decide to take you into their own room. If it provides you the comfort you need they will take the suffering to make you feel even the slightest bit better. Wanda sits down on the bed with you still wrapped around her. Your head in her neck as you let her scent drown out your senses. Nat walked away from the two of you for a few minutes before coming back. In her arms is a plethora of blankets. She sets them on the bed next to Wanda. “Detka?” She crouches down in front of you two and says softly. “Can you please come out? I brought you blankets for a nest.” Her voice is still soft, watching you for any movement.

Slowly you pull your head out, eyes landing on the pile. You hesitantly move not wanting to leave the comfort of the alpha but your inner omega is telling you to build your nest. “Thank you Nat.” You whisper, taking the blankets and moving to a corner of the room. It has been a losing battle to fight your inner omega who just craves the women. But you don’t want to overstep too much so you build your nest in the corner. You crawl into it moving things around till you’re comfortable.

Being around the alphas has dulled your pain. It is still there but in less intense waves, but the slick has increased. You can now feel it coating your thighs. The two have watched you intently, hard uncomfortable bulges in their pants. Wanting nothing more than to claim you as their own. It isn’t until your small voice breaks the silence in the room that they break from the trance. “Alphas?” You whimper. The women quickly move over to you concerned that something could be wrong. You look up to them with tears in your eyes, scared to ask anything more of them but craving their comfort.

Wanda’s hand gently cups your face, her thumb rubbing over your cheek gently. “Yes, omega. Do you need anything?” Wanda’s softness makes you purr as you nuzzle. “Please stay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but they hear you. The women share a look before they agree. Nat gets in front of you which you instantly cuddle into her side, your head instinctively nuzzling into her neck. Wanda slots herself behind you. Both of them cuddle you tightly.

Nat notices it instantly, your warm slick slowly coating her thigh. You start grinding against her thigh. Your brain is not even registering it until you let out a soft moan. A look of panic crossing your face when you realize what you are doing. “I-I-I’m sorry.” You try to pull away but their arms wrapping around you tightly keeps you in place. “What do you need mega?” Wanda kisses your shoulder and mumbles. You let out another whine at her words wanting to beg them to use you, breed you, mark you, to become their mate. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us, sweet girl.” Nat kisses your forehead letting her lips linger there.

You look up to the woman in front of you. “I want you, both of you.” You whisper. They are both slightly shocked but not entirely due to your recent actions. Nat’s hand cups your cheek. “Are you sure? This isn’t just your heat?” You shake your head no at her words. “Wanted you for a while. Didn’t think you wanted me. I’m nothing special.” You look down out of embarrassment waiting for the rejection, but it doesn’t come. Nat’s finger hooks under your chin, making you look back up at her. She gently kisses your lips before pulling back your breaths mingling together in the open space. “We want you too, and you are special. You are the most kind and gentle person we have ever met.”

It’s so quick that you don’t even notice. Wanda’s arms are removed from you and Nat has pushed you on your back hovering over you. “If you want us to stop or you change your mind you can tell us.” Nat tells you gently pecking your lips. “Are you sure you want this mega?” Wanda asks you. You nod your head. “We need words pretty girl.” You look at Wanda who is laying on her side with her head propped on her hand. “Want you.” Was the only words that slipped past your lips. In an instant with red whisps all of your clothes are gone. You look at Wanda a bit shocked, a smirk playing on her lips.

Soon the alphas' clothes soon follow. Their rock hard cocks springing free of their confines. You feel Nat’s slap against your stomach causing you to look down. Your eyes widen at her sheer size wondering how she will fit. Your eyes then trail to Wanda. She looks even bigger than Nat, not by much but a noticeable difference. You can feel more of your slick coating your thighs as you whine.

Nat kisses your head as her hand guides her cock to your folds. Swiping through them coating herself in your arousal, her tip nudging against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a moan as she keeps nudging. When she is satisfied, she moves the tip down to your entrance, looking at you for your confirmation that you're still ok. When you give her a nod, she slowly starts to push in. Slowly sinking her cock into your wet and warm cunt.

“Fuck so tight.” Nat moans as your walls clamp around her member. You’re so thankful for your heat, your slick allowing her to slip in easily. You wrap your legs around her waist as she sinks in further. When her thighs meet your ass you gasp at the fullness. You’ve never felt this full in your life and it feels so right.

Nat gives you some time to adjust to the stretch fighting her inner alpha to just pound into you mercilessly. Wanda turns your head leaning in to kiss you. Her hands reach between your bodies as she finds your breasts. Her fingers expertly tweaking your nipples causing you to moan in her mouth distracting you from the fact that Nat has pulled almost all the way out before sinking back in. Her pace is slow at first just getting used to you. You feel so good and she doesn’t want to cum too early.

When Nat feels like she can, her pace quickens. She fucks into you gently, her thrust deep as she angle just right. Hitting your spot deep inside. Wanda’s mouth is still on yours as she swallows all of your moans. Enjoying your full breast in her hands, groping at pinching her nipples as her mate fucks into you.

You don’t expect the alpha to be so gentle as she fucks you but it feels so good from her. Her caring and soft side showed through with every thrust of her hips. She leans up grabbing your hips watching as her cock disappears into your hole. Entranced by your sweet scent and how you take her so well. How your hips buck into her to meet her thrust trying to get her that much deeper. The outline of her cock bulging from your skin, she presses down and a loud moan is escaping you. She looks back up to watch as Wanda devours you, catching every whimper and moan until you can’t keep up anymore.

“So pretty and made for us. Taking me so well.” Nat praises you. “So perfectly wrapped around my cock squeezing me so tight. Fuck.” She moans when you clench. Your panting, eyes closed as your orgasm builds. One of Wanda’s hands drifting down between both of your bodies finding your bundle of nerves pinching it between her fingers. You cry out in pleasure and pain as she continues. Both women bring you so close to the edge. Your walls squeezing Nat tight, her grunts and moans filling your ears. Her knot starts to form hitting against your entrance, just begging to fill you.

Wanda’s hand continues toying with your clit as Nat drives her hips into you. Your legs are slightly shaking around Nat’s hips. She leans back down the more her knot swells. You're both close to cumming. She kisses your scent gland sending small waves of pleasure. Her hips become more erratic when her knot fully forms. Slamming against your entrance. With a few more thrust her knot pops in and her teeth sink into your neck. You cry out in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you. She marks you claiming you as her omega. Filling you with her cum as your back arches. Grinding into you as white hot ropes of cum fill you. Your cum coating her cock as your walls squeeze her knot, milking her dry. She lets your neck go and licks your wound clean. You look up at her curious and hopeful eyes. She smiles and leans her head giving you access to the opposite side from where Wanda bit. You lean up sinking your teeth in her scent gland. She moans out and you don’t know how it is possible but you can feel a few more spurts of cum filling you. Which just causes you to moan around her bite. You release her and lick it clean just as she had done for you.

You’re both panting, Nat’s knot locking you together until it deflates. Wanda’s hands move away giving you two a chance to bond. Nat takes the time to gently move you both so that you are on your side. You feel the bond growing strong as you bask in the aftermath. She gently kisses your lips before leaning her forehead against yours. The room is silent until you break it. “Thank you.” You whisper between you two. Nat smiles. “No need to thank me detka. I have been wanting to do that for a long time.” The three of you laugh. It’s funny how you all wanted each other but none of you thought the other would. “Me too.” You smile, your breath still heavy between you two.

When Nat’s knot finally deflates she removes herself from you. You let out a whimper at the lost feeling empty as your mixed cum leaks out of you. Wanda kisses your shoulder and mumbles against the naked skin. “My turn malyshka. I want you to ride me.” You look back at her, your eyes wide. “I-I’ve never.” You stutter a little having never ridden anyone before. She kisses your shoulder again. “That’s ok detka. You’re going to look so beautiful bouncing on my cock.”

You feel Wanda shift as she lays on her back. You turn yourself to look at her. She has her hands behind her head and her cock standing proud. You don’t know how she was so patient when you look at her cock. Her tip is angry red and pre-cum has leaked all down her shaft. Her hand moves to wrap around and gently jerk herself. She had wanted to save all of her cum for you to fill you even fuller than you already were. You hesitate for a moment before getting up and shifting. Throwing your leg over her hips hovering over her cock. Her hand is firmly around her cock lining it up with your entrance. You look at her for a second when she gives you a reassuring smile. You give her a small smile before you start to slowly sink down on her.

Wanda moves her hand back behind her head as she watches you sink down. “Fuck your right Natty. So fucking tight. Fuck even after you fucked her she is tight.” You blush at her words, finally sitting fully in her lap. You didn’t think you could feel this full. Both of them fit you so perfectly like they were made just for you.

You grind your hips experimentally, the movement causing you and Wanda to moan. You can see the cocky smirk on her face as she waits for you to fuck yourself on her cock. “Fuck I can feel both of your cums leaking all over my cock.” She bucks her hips up, enticing you to move. You groan, taking her hint as you lift yourself up before slamming yourself down. You set a slow and steady pace as you figure out your moments. Bringing yourself up before dropping back down. Wanda enjoys the sight of your breast bouncing every time you sink back down.

But your pace is a bit slow for the woman. “Ride me like you mean it detka. I want to see you fuck yourself on my cock.” You whimper, nodding your head and picking up the pace. Bouncing on her cock and grinding your hips when you meet her pelvis. The sight in front of her is perfect as the perfect omega rides her. Even at this angle Wanda can see a perfect outline of her cock filling your tight hole. Moaning knowing that you're so full of her and that she is going to fill you even more.

Whimpers and moans fill the room as you continue to fuck yourself on her cock. Soon you feel hands on your waist as Nat moves closer to you two she helps guid you quicker on fucking her mate. Wanda’s hands moving to your plush thighs digging her fingers into the soft flesh. Starting to buck her hips up to meet you. Fucking you harder than Nat did.

“Such a whore for us already. Taking our fat cocks in your tight little hole. Look at that.” Wanda presses her hand down hard on the bulge that appears on your lower abdomen. You cry out from the pleasure and her words, looking down to see her cock moving inside of you. Your walls clench her tightly at the sights. “Oh fuck you like that don’t you little whore. Love being fucked by your alpha’s.” Wanda’s moans, her words a stark contrast to Nat’s praises. She is rougher with her thrusts. Showing a different side to each woman.

Nat turns your head towards her and kisses you hungrily. Wanda sits up planting her feet and thrusting up hard and rough. You love the difference between the two. A gentle Nat and a rougher Wanda. It turns you on immensely more slick coating Wanda’s cock the harder she drives her hips up into you. Nat still helping you fuck yourself down on her cock.

“Such a perfect cock drunk whore for us. So pretty being our little cum dump, just for us to use.” With every word that Wanda speaks it sends you closer to the edge, your walls clamping down on her. You don’t know how she can keep her rough pace as your walls suffocate her cock. She moans as your walls tighten, her knot forming and pressing against your entrance begging to slip in. Wanda nibbles at your perky nipples. “Want to be bred full of our cum? Fill you with our pups?” You moan into Nat’s mouth mumbling a yes.

“These tits would look so perfect, full of milk, your belly swollen with our pups.” She bites down on your nipple causing you to break the kiss from nat and cry out. “Mmm.” You whimper, her thrust becoming erratic as your knot fully forms. Nat lets your waist go and Wanda wraps her arms around you thrusting up harder and faster. You didn’t think she could go any harder or faster but it has you moaning louder. Your arms tightly wrapped around her as your nails dig into her back causing her to moan at the sting.

Wanda moves her head to the other side of your neck biting into your other scent gland as her knot slips inside locking you two together. You scream out and throw your head back as your vision blurs, cumming harder than you ever have before. Wanda’s cum joins Nat’s deep inside you filling the void and feeding the desires of your inner omega. Your whole body trembles in her hold as your bond forms. She pulls away, licking your wound. She lets you take the side opposite of Nat’s mark cementing your bond to both women. Small spurts of cum still fill you as Wanda grinds helping you both to ride out your highs.

When you come down your rigid body slumps into Wanda nuzzling into her neck. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, kissing the side of your head. Her fingers gently rubbing at your back. Your arms loosely wrapped around her exhaustion taking over as you close your eyes.

“Are you ok sweet girl?” Wanda questions kissing your head again. You hum in response, throat raw from your previous actions. “I wasn’t too rough was I?” You could hear the concern in her voice. So you pull back a soft smile playing on your lips. “No, it was perfect. Both of you.” Your voice is hoarse. You look back at Nat who pecks your lips. You would think that Nat would be jealous of how your body reacted to Wanda but all you can see is the love in her eyes. The stark contrast between the two is something you already love. How gentle Nat praising you as she fucked into you and how Wanda was rougher degrading you.

When Wanda’s knot deflates they both help you up on wobbly legs taking you to a warm bath and cleaning you up. Your heat subsiding for the moment, a relief you thought you would never have. You’re all now cuddled up in your nest, your head on Nat’s chest, Wanda’s arms wrapped around your waist. Your eyes droop shut as exhaustion from the day's events gets to you. If someone had told you that you would end up being the omega mate to two Avengers you would have laughed in their face but right now wrapped up with them is all you could have ever wished for. The love of two powerful and amazing alphas and they are all yours. “I love you two.” You mumble so close to sleep. Both women were smiling. “We love you too.” Wanda kisses your shoulder and Nat kisses your head. “Our omega.”

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orionsangel86 · 1 year ago

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I watched X-Men 2000 tonight. Yup the Deadpool and Wolverine brain worms got me - at least for a little while - so I figured I'd rewatch the old movies that I havent seen in over a decade and have basically forgotten entirely at this point.

You know what really stunned me? Even more than the slow pace, serious tone, actual dedication to telling a coherent and interesting story with layers of meaning and social commentary attached to it, as well as a sincerity that's been missing from most superhero films since the MCU was born (thanks Josh Whedon).

Nope, what shocked me most was this:

This is a perfect specimen of a man. Look at him. He's gorgeous. But look at his chest? His arms? He's muscular, he's pretty well toned, he's hairy. He's definitely got a six pack - but it's nicely covered by a healthy layer of fat. His skin is plump, he has a bit of squish to him. He'd probably be great to hug (Jean Grey certainly gives him a good squeeze lol).

When he sits down he looks like his stomach will roll just nicely. Like a stomach should.

I know my point here is obvious. It's just that scrolling the Deadpool and Wolvering tag is basically 50% "oh they definitely fucked in the Honda Odyssey" (yes lol) and the other 50% is just horny posting over Wolverine's topless scene like the entire site suddenly adopted Deadpools horny brain.

I gotta give props to Hugh Jackman for his dedication to turn himself into an actual comic book character - because that's what this new movie does. It gives us a comic accurate Wolverine in practically every way (except for his height lol) the suit is amazing, the cowl was a joy to see brought into live action. The body too though was straight out of a comic book artists male power fantasy.

What I wanted to emphasise was that this:

Is extremely tough on the human body. What I wanna know is how long he starved and dehydrated himself for before filming this scene? How long before they shot this did he last drink some water? Because damn that must have been tough. The oil and the lighting probably help further emphasise the muscle, vein, and sinew definition. It's probably similar to how body builders prepare before a show.

Nothing about body building is healthy though. So in the coming weeks as the whole entertainment industry rides on the coat tales of this movies success, and everyone goes crazy over Hugh Jackmans physique, please don't feel pressured into thinking that his 2024 physique in the movie is remotely realistic - or realistically attractive. Like I get the fantasy sure, but come on. I'd personally rather lie on a cushioned bed than a concrete floor.

Deadpool may disagree with me, but he's a masochist lol.

Oh and whilst I stand by the shade I threw at the MCU above, I think Wolverine's different physiques in the movies is a good standard of comparison for how much superhero movies have changed. Because when superhero comics first started getting adapted I think a lot of the choices made were about how to bring them to live action realistically and believably and the attitude was to try not to make them look ridiculous. The first X-Men movies definitely do this.

It was about bringing the comics to life in a way that fit in our world. But over the years, as audiences got more and more used to comic book movies the movies became more and more like comic books and less like a realistic adaptation of a comic book. Does that make sense? So as the movies attempted to bring the comics to life in a way that was less realistic and more comic accurate, the demands on the actors to sculpt their physiques to meet the standards of comic book art became normalised.

I think Deadpool and Wolverine is the MOST comic book accurate of all superhero movies made in the past 2 decades. Half the time the images from the movie look like they could be literally pulled from the pages of the comic books. The story is convoluted and stupid, the plot is barely there and is full of gaping plot holes and elements that don't fit any past stories. The action is ridiculous, extremely fast paced, gratuitous, and violent to a hilarious level. But it's so entertaining, joyful, exciting, and laugh out loud hilarious throughout.

It reminded me a LOT of my attempts at reading through the Deadpool comics (I've read a lot of them but no where near all of them).

To sum up this rambling message with multiple points, I'll say that Deadpool and Wolverine is a really fun movie that I thoroughly enjoyed, but make no mistake there is nothing real in it at all. It is almost literally a comic on screen. Don't expect anything more than that and you'll enjoy the experience.

#wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadpool #mcu #xmen #hugh jackman

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caelivir · 1 year ago

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hidden lights | rayne ames

— synopsis. reading rayne ames is impossible. that's why you don't get why he offers to take you out on a date after you've been stood up again.

— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader

— genres. modern au, you and rayne are roommates, fluff, you’re so oblivious it hurts, rayne's most likely ooc towards the end but we do it for plot,

— warnings. one kys thrown in at the end but it’s not in a serious manner

— word count. 3.2k

— notes. in honor of triple liner rayne being animated. i have quite literally been waiting to see it animated for years. also hi.

you can never tell what rayne ames is thinking. he wears the same cold, uninterested glare on his face at all times of the day. he never speaks unless spoken to, never lets you know when he leaves the apartment, never does anything to show that he actually has emotions.

you're asked on the daily how you survive rooming with him, and in all honesty, it's really not that bad. he does his half of the chores, and he doesn't leave his shit all over the apartment. really, the guy's only problem is his lack of emotion. it drives you up the wall.

finn says not to take it to personally during the one day he visited his brother. apparently, he's like that with everyone, but he's still a good guy. it just takes time.

you would like to believe that, but rayne makes that extremely difficult to believe when he looks like he wants to kill every person who so happens to exist in his direction.

so naturally, seeing him so angered after finding out that you've been stood up is surprising. it's an even bigger shock when he offers to take you out on a date instead.

you don't know what compels you to agree. even if you hadn't accepted his offer, something tells you that rayne would've found a way to get you to leave with him so there's no use in trying to deny him in this matter.

that's why you allow him to drive all the way to marchétte street, where a night market is being held in full swing. the road has all sorts of stalls lined up one after the other, ranging from foods to clothes. but because the marchétte night market is ridiculously popular, the place is packed to the brim with people.

rayne offers his hand once he notices that you're daunted by the crowds. you stare at him with surprise. when you don't make a move to accept this action, rayne huffs before grabbing your hand. he interlocks his fingers with yours and drags you into marchétte street's traffic.

the first thing you note is that rayne's hands are surprisingly warm and soft. for someone so incapable of talking, his touch is strangely reassuring.

he drags you to a vendor selling takoyaki. and even as he orders, rayne doesn’t let go of your hand.

“what do you want?” he says into your ear so that he doesn’t have to yell over all the noise. the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin sends shivers down your spin. it's maddening.

“oh. uh-” your eyes quickly scan over the menu, and you blurt out the first item that you read. out of habit you reach for your wallet, but rayne is quick to shut you down.

“absolutely not.” he grumbles, letting your hand drop to your side so he can pull out his cash. rayne hands the amount to the girl at the register, and she hands back his change that he drops into the tip jar.

“thanks.” you say quietly, still so flustered about the entire situation.

rayne only studies you before humming in acknowledgement. “come on.” he guides his hand to your upper back, moving you out the way so you can wait on the side for your orders.

it’s during this time you really look at rayne as if that would provide you with the answers you need to understand him. you try to wrap your head around it. you draft up every possible explanation, but none of them seem to make sense.

unless… it couldn’t be… does rayne like you? you shake your head, dismissing the thought as soon as it crosses your mind. no, that’s absurd, the furthest thing from logical. this is rayne ames we’re talking about. in the five months that you’ve been living together, you two have never had a solid conversation. how could he ever like someone he’s barely talked to?

you're about to confront rayne about his intentions until your number order is called, and all the courage you built up crumbles away as rayne leaves you to go pick up your takoyaki.

still, whatever his reasons for doing this may be, this is a rare opportunity to come by, and that means that maybe rayne doesn't have to continue being a stranger. maybe you can get under those layers and find that good guy finn said was there.

"i never knew marchétte had a night market." you say, breaking the silence as the two of you walk side by side through the market.

"i didn't either." rayne admits, poking his fork into one of the octopus balls, and shoving the whole thing into his mouth.

"what?" your face scrunches in disbelief. "then how'd you find out?"

"i asked finn as we were going down to the garage." your date shares nonchalantly.

you turn to look at rayne with the intent of questioning him further, but the sight of his cheeks bulging with food makes you burst out in a fit of giggles.

"what?" rayne asks, narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip to contain your laughter. your gaze falls on a mixture of crumbs and sauce that sits on the corner of his mouth, only causing you to smile wider.

"you got a little something there." you gesture at his lips. rayne fumbles for a moment, swiping his fingers around various sections of his mouth, somehow only cleaning half of the mess up.

you shake your head, still grinning up at him. he tenses when your thumb grazes the edges of his lips. you can feel his eyes staring deep into you, and you have to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.

"all done." you whisper, wiping the remainders on the napkin in your hand.

rayne doesn't say anything regarding what occurred, only urging you to follow him further down marchétte street.

you swear that you see the tips of his ears go red, and something about that makes you all fuzzy inside.

as the night progresses, you and rayne abide your time by visiting stalls. well, it's more like you choose which ones interest you the most, and rayne follows behind. you comment on certain items that look nice; sometimes, you ask for your roommate's opinions to decide on whether something will be worth your money or not. to your surprise, rayne's advice is solid, and you end up listening to him.

at some point, you convinced him to buy a pair of absurdly looking mugs for the apartment. he fought you hard on it, saying that a mug shaped like a fish is extremely inconvenient, but in the end, you won with insistent begging.

when the two of you both got bored of the market, you decide to take rayne to one of your favorite spots in the city.

"the park? really?" rayne gives you a dead stare.

"hey, don't judge." you pout. "i love this place."

"why? no offense, but i don't think parks are all that special."

"i feel like i can take a step back here and just a catch a break from everything," you answer honestly. "sometimes, i sit down and watch people as they live their lives, and something about that is strangely comforting. it makes me want to keep going."

rayne doesn't follow up on your words, but you can tell that he's really considering them, and that brings a smile onto your face.

"plus, i feel like it's a good place for when you want to talk to someone." you grab onto your roommate's wrist. "come on let's go to the swings."

you practically drag rayne to the playground, which is completely deserted, but that's to be expected when it's already 10p.m. no parent would be dumb enough to bring their kid out this late.

you force rayne onto the the swing next to you, and all he does is sit there, unwilling to indulge himself in such a simple joy. annoyed with him, you hop off your own set, coming behind him.

"what are you doing?" rayne whips his head around as your hands plant themselves firmly on his back.

"oh live a little." you huff, mustering up enough strength to push him. the swing rocks forwards and comes back. even as rayne complains and threatens you, you continue to push him, watching as he goes higher and higher. he may be masking it, but you can tell that he's enjoying it.

you finally give up when your arms grow sore and a layer of sweat coats your face. slumping back into the swing beside rayne, you breathe heavily. "man, that was a workout."

"i told you to stop." your date reminds you, shooting you a look.

"you can be honest, rayne. i know you liked it."

"i did not."

"yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that." you wave him off, laughing.

for a minute, neither of you say anything. you're the one who said that the park is a place where you can talk openly with someone, yet there's not a single topic that you can think to bring up.

luckily, rayne swoops in to save it. "can i ask you something?" your half-blonde roommate asks, something more serious laced in his voice. it makes you swallow a lump in your throat. an anxious feeling creeps into your body.

"of course you can."

"why did you bother giving that guy a chance?"

it's easy to know exactly who he's referring to. you shrug. "he's nice and has good energy."

"but he had stood you up two times in the past though. clearly he isn't as nice as you make him out to be. you seriously can't be that dumb to have fallen for it three times."

that statement in itself should get you mad (even though he would be right), but there's something peculiar in what he said that had you ignoring the jab altogether. "how'd you know he stood me up twice before? i never told you that."

at that, rayne freezes, eyes blowing wide open. it's so obvious that he's trying to find an excuse right now, but you push further.

"who told you that, rayne?" you lean closer, watching as his ears turn beet red. you're not even angry with him. it's mostly curiosity making you push him. not to mention that seeing him in a flustered state is entertaining and quite cute.

"max did." your roommate finally admits albeit quietly.

you pull your head back. "max? as in max land? how the hell does he know?"

"your dates happened to be at the restaurant he works at."

"why would he bother telling you that though?" you wonder. "up until tonight, i don't think it concerned you."

"it did though." the half-blonde mumbles, thinking you wouldn't hear, but you do anyway.

"what?" you press.

"forget it." rayne shakes his head, growing irritated.

"no. fuck that.." you seethe, annoyed at his unwillingness to be honest with you. rayne bites his tongue to hold back. you see it. "don't act like this. just tell me, or i swear to god i'll text max right now-"

"it's because i knew that i could treat you better." the words rush out of rayne's mouth as he snaps his head toward you. the fire in his eyes die as he locks his gaze onto you. the harsh emotion written across his features softens. you can feel your own exasperation slipping away like that of a retreating ocean tide. he grimaces in regret, knowing that he didn't mean to let that slip out, but he did anyway. it's out in the open, and now you knew.

surely, you're hearing things wrong. perhaps you're misunderstanding what he just said. how could that be misinterpreted though? it's such a painfully straightforward statement, yet it still doesn't make any sense.

rayne sighs. it's like he can already hear your thoughts and your confusion. the least he can do is clear the air and dump everything onto you while he can. "i didn't expect to feel like this," he begins to explain. "when i moved in, i just assumed you'd be another person i wouldn't pay attention to. i'm sure you know how i am. i don't bother getting to know people, but a lot of people feel the need to force themselves into my life, and shit like that pisses me off. but you didn't do that. you introduced yourself, explained the ground rules of the apartment, and then left me alone."

"so... you like the fact that i leave you alone?" you tilt your head.

"shut up. let me finish."

"okay."

"but yeah, that's part of it. you keep your distance, but you still try to show that you care. you don't do anything groundbreaking. it's just that the small things you do for me got to me. it may sound dumb to you, but it meant a lot to me."

suddenly, you're hit like a train because you know exactly what rayne means. you recall all the times you ensured that there was dinner for him, the times you moved his laundry into the dryer when he forgot to do it himself, and the times you restocked his favorite snacks when they ran out. you hadn't realized that you did any of that. it just came naturally, no hidden meaning behind it.

"oh." you breathe out, blinking.

rayne nods, continuing. you're honestly floored over the fact that he still has more to say. "you don't notice it. at least, i don't think you do, but at some point, i tried doing the same for you. i started paying more attention to you and what you liked and how you liked things done. i did it mostly to pay back your kindness, but over time i continued just 'cause i liked seeing your smile."

you have to process that for a minute, piecing together how certain events lined up until it finally clicks into place. "s-so the island vase-"

"i replace the flowers because you like them fresh."

"the key holder?"

"you always forgot to bring your keys until i installed it."

"when you put on movies-"

"i check your letterboxd and hope that you'll sit and watch them with me."

"when i put on movies-"

"i sit with you because i want to be near you."

your jaw falls open. never in a million years could you have expected this. you thought that rayne could care less about your existence, but the reality was that that was far from the truth. cold, aloof rayne was always doing things for you. all this time, you've been so oblivious.

still, there's more to the story so you stay quiet, letting him get his feelings off of his chest. "to be honest, i was never going to say anything. max tried convincing me to confess on multiple occasions, but i was dead set on letting it pass. i didn't think you liked me in the same way anyway.

"but then you came home today and you told me about your date and i just got so... angry," rayne clenches his fist around the chains of the swing. the whole situation infuriates him every time he thinks about it. "it just wasn't fair. you spent so much time into looking your best just for that asshole to go and waste your effort. you're so beautiful, so kind and understanding, and i fucking hate the fact that he's been taking advantage of that.

"i really wasn't thinking clear when i proposed this date to you, but god after tonight, i'd do it all over again. i wanted you to know what it's like to be with someone who does care about you. i wanted to see you smile. i wanted to hear stories. i want you so badly it's all i can think about sometimes.

"i know this is a lot, and i'm freaking you out right now. i'm sorry but you-"

"rayne." you interrupt with a big smile on your face. he was unaware to the fact that you had got up.

"for fucks sake, can you let me finish? this is already weird enough for me to talk about as is." he rolls his eyes, narrowing his gaze at you, blush splashed across his cheeks. still, without any resistance, you pull him up from his swing by his wrists.

"then don't." you whisper as you pull him in.

and the moment you crash your lips onto rayne's, the world stops. he instantly melts into you, the palms of his hands finding the soft skin on your cheeks. your hands tangle themselves into his hair. his lips are incredibly soft. a faint taste of matcha and sugar syrup dances on his tongue from the boba he drank earlier. a noise of approval vibrates down his throat, and you can't help but smile against his lips.

rayne wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he deepens the kiss. you get what he was talking about earlier. this kiss is all it takes to prove it to you. you feel his affection and desire all at once. every single bone in your body is so aware of how much rayne ames cares about you.

when you finally pull away for air, it's like a smile is permanently tugged onto your lips. rayne trains his eyes onto you, engraining every detail of this moment into his head.

a comfortable silence falls as each of you take your time to catch your breaths. your stare finds its way up, admiring the night sky. there are barely any stars out tonight. no, that part isn't remotely true, not fully anyway, because light pollution drowns out stars and their lights. the reality is that there are billions of stars hanging high out of reach; they just go unseen.

rayne is kinda like that you realize. finn was right. his brother is a good guy. there's a hidden light within him behind all those aloof layers of his. you just have to squint and maybe put on some prescription glasses is order to see it. it's a shame it took you five months to to really acknowledge it. but now that you've finally found a glimpse of it, you'll continue to clear past the fog. you want to know every part of rayne and see his light just as he did with you. you want him to be able to shine at his full brightness with no fear. you'll take rayne ames for all that he is.

"come on," you coo, a lovestruck look in your eyes as you slip your hand into rayne's. "let's go home."

bonus:

rayne: finn, give me a date spot quick finn: are you actually going on a date? rayne: stop asking questions finn: there's a night market on marchétte street. finn: are you seriously going on a date though? finn: hello? finn: rayne. finn: stop leaving me on read. finn: is it (y/n)? finn: it is her, huh? finn: asshole.

delisaster: hey sorry delisaster: can we reschedule for next saturday? y/n: kys y/n: lol sorry that was my bf delisaster: bruh what? delisaster: did you have a bf this whole time? *this message could not be sent* delisaster: did you fucking block me? *this message could not be sent*

#anime #manga #mashle #mashle magic and muscles #mashle x reader #rayne ames #rayne x reader #rayne ames x reader #⭑ — fics ⭑.ᐟ♡#♡ — mashle #♡ — rayne

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sexlapis · 2 years ago

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[◉°] … toji & y/n being a couple for 10 minutes straight pt.3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡˚ 𓂋 ❄﹒✦﹒✿ ˚

꩜ actor!toji x actress!reader

⤷ synopsis : just toji & reader being idiots in luv…

꩜ content : crazy fans, very mild physical violence (toji pushing ppl lol), toji being a little ooc again. this is really not as wack as the warnings are making it sound.

- a/n : loads of people seem to be enjoying this & i enjoy making them, so here you go! :D

. . . part 1, part 2, part 4

masterlists

౨ৎ first clip

(recorded by your fansite) - you & toji are at the airport and it is packed. there are fans swarming you, practically suffocating you & toji, along with paparazzi taking pictures of you, flashing lights in your face. your bodyguards are literally at war trying to guard you and you have to cling onto toji’s arm to even get past the sea of people.

all of a sudden one fan somehow gets way too close, and grabs a hold of your shirt, trying to drag you towards him. you jerk forward and without even hesitating, toji just grabs the face of the crazy fan and pushes him away like it’s nothing, causing a domino effect having other fans falling over as well.

toji puts an arm around you and guides you to check your tickets, ignoring all the chaos he caused behind him.

(this got a lot of mixed reactions, some people siding with toji saying he was just protecting you & others criticising him for his rash actions that could’ve caused people to get injured 💀)

౨ৎ second clip

you & toji were doing a video for WIRED, taking part in their popular series, “Web’s Most Searched Questions” about yourselves.

“okay third question..” you say, and peel off the paper. “are _____ and toji..dating?”

you & toji look at the camera and then at each other, faces hot and you’re both awkwardly smiling before looking at the camera again. you & toji speak. “yeah, i dunno.” “nooo idea.” “literally no clue whatsoever.” “why even ask that like-like we’d know the answer?”

you peel the next question and it’s even worse. “are _____ and toji having- A BABY?!” you shout and cover your face laughing, both in shock and amusement. “what?!”

toji just facepalms, hiding his pink cheeks and sighs tiredly. “christ…”

౨ৎ third clip

you’re at a press conference for the series you and toji are in, all the cast members are gathered on a long table with microphones but it’s a pretty informal gathering and the fans are being very interactive with the cast!

a crew members hands the microphone to a fan who has a question. “hi! hi, i’m sarah and uhm..i have a question for toji. and _____ too! do you think that your characters have a chance of..like..getting together? like romantically-?”

“yeah we’re getting together,” toji responds bluntly, reeling in the loud cheers from the crowd & he decides to add fuel to the fire. “and we’re gonna have a make-out scene too.”

the audiences goes crazy with applause and whistles, while you pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head in embarrassment as the cast look to see your reaction.

then the director of the show pitches in, holding her finger up. “just to clarify, we did not discuss this..”

there’s a chorus of laughs and sad ‘awws’ among the pool of fans which only makes you giggle. you didn’t even know what to say to toji’s brashness.

gojo chimes in with his loud mouth while everyone is still buzzing from toji’s unexpected words. “talking about kisses and stuff like. this guy’s just saying what he wants to hear!”

everyone starts creasing up again and you & toji lean your heads to look at each other on opposing ends of the table, and he just smirks at you while you just shake your head and try not to look so obvious..

౨ৎ fourth clip

vogue did a video with you getting ready for a fashion show you were invited to, by the designer herself.

the makeup artists had just finished your shimmery, fairy-like makeup and now the stylists were accessorising you with jewellery and fixing your hair.

“yeah i really like how the hair is done,” you say, referring to the baby pink ribbon tied cutely around your bun. “it’s really cute! and the dress is just so-”

the door to the dressing room opens and toji pokes his head in, the camera zooming in on him. “‘ya done yet?”

“toji?” you ask, exasperated. “toji get out! we’re not finished yet..”

toji looks you up and down in confusion. “ya look done to me. we gotta leave in like-”

“toji i am clearly not finished. we have to go through which jewellery looks the best with the neckline of the dress and..my whole look altogether so it doesn’t drown me out! and then we have to pick the correct shoes and make sure i’m comfortable with them and that they look pretty but also don’t take attention away from the dress. and then for the perfume-”

“yeah, yeah, alright, i get it.” toji totes. “but we have to be there in 30 minutes so-”

“oh toji’.” you sigh, looking in the mirror while the stylist fuss around you. “it’s okay if we’re late. i’m the main event. the designer invented me personally. they won’t even start the show if i’m not there. it’ll be fine, trust me.”

toji looks at you for a moment and then simply shrugs, nodding and accepting your words.

౨ৎ fifth clip

“so yeah, this is the book i’m reading.” you hold up ‘pride & prejudice’ to the camera for your fans to see. you were on a livestream, which you don’t usually do, and many fans were watching. “i just love this book. the characters are-”

loud, thudding footsteps can be heard in the background and you pause. a deep, clearly a man’s voice can be heard and then a shirtless toji walks into frame (as identified by his tattoos bc his face is not on camera). he reaches out of frame.

“sorry, jus’ forgot my shirt.”

he puts his shirt on, not even realising what he just did in front of 50,000 people and walks out of the room

it all happened so fast, you sit with your jaw open like a fish, holding your now forgotten book in your hand while the chat goes wild, spamming questions of “who is that?” “is that toji?” “you and toji are together?” in a frantic, chaotic fashion.

you just look at the camera and reach forward, abruptly ending the live. fans did not stop talking about this moment for months and they most certainly did not believe you when you said toji was just at your house for a little ‘visit’.

౨ৎ

a/n: yk how hard it is to think of ideas for this omg 😭💔

#actor!toji #actress!reader #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro fluff #toji zenin x reader

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sirxlla · 6 months ago

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Non-Emergencies

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

Warnings: Fluff, use of Y/N

Prompt: Your Grandma calls 911 to flirt with the firefighters

Notes: Female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

Your grandma needed a little extra help around the house after her hip replacement so you, your mother and father were taking care of her. Currently you were on Grandma duty for the next six hours.

"You should see the firefighters at the station near here, they are just the cutest and the one with the little mark above his eyebrow? Oh, you'd really like him."

You left her alone for five minutes while you got the Uber Eats order and she had already made the call to 911. She put the phone down like she hadn't just commited a crime so of course you expected that maybe she'd called a friend or answered the phone or something, something really benign.

"LAFD, Ma'am are you alright." The 118 had seen your grandmother before, she was a 'frequent flyer' is what they called her. She did often call when she was lonely or couldn't understand how to turn on the tv but she secretly wanted company or to oogle the men.

"Grandma, Why's the fire department here?" You asked with shock and a tad bit of annoyance.

"Is that who I called?" She acted innocent and again like it isnt a crime to call the fire department for nothing.

"That is who you called, Ms. Dotty." Eddie spoke to her and did a check to make sure she's fine cause he has to.

"She's fi-" You started but your grandma interrupted.

"My hearts a little fast but maybe thats just cause of you." The seventy year old flirted with the brunette man.

"Well, arent you a charming showstopper as always, Ms. Dotty." Eddie replied back.

"She doesnt even need anythin-" You start to tell the other man before looking up at him, he had the mark near his eyebrow like she said and god was he beautiful, a killer smile, his hair a bit curly and his eyes were like seas of endles-

"Yeah, we kinda figured but we don't mind checkin up on her." Buck interrupts your thoughts with and you felt weak in your knees as soon as his smile widened.

"Evan Buckley but you can call me Buck if you like, everyone else does." He reached out his hand.

Naturally, due to Buck being insanely charming you were already blushing which caused your grandma to wink at you when Eddie wasn't looking.

"You okay? You seem a little flushed." He retracted his hand and asked you with concern.

"No, I'm good I promise." Trying to hide the blush on your cheeks or the smile of embarrassment that was quickly fighting it's way to your face.

"I heard you boys needed volunteers for the Christmas thing you guys are putting on for the kiddos. I'm sure my granddaughter would love to help out." Your grandma kept trying to play wing-woman for you.

"Well we really do need another woman to help us out and I think she'd be perfect. Can I get your number and I'll just text you the details." Buck said in a slightly flirty tone.

"I wouldnt wanna be a both-"

"Her number is 424-555-7652. Her names Y/N but most people call her Ducky." Your grandma wrote it down and handed it to Evan.

"Awe, Buck and Duck." Eddie starts before their pagers went off with an actual call that wasnt a grandma wanting to flirt with firefighters.

"Well it was lovely to see you, Ms. Dotty!" Eddie packs up the med kit and gets ready to get out of there.

"I'll give you a call, Ducky." Buck says with a blush as he bolts out of there after Eddie.

"I don't know if I should be mad at you or not, Grandma." Still trying to hife the blush or how your eyes had memorized every part of Buck's face.

"I told you he was cute, they both are. If I was younger, I bet the brunette would go for me." Your grandma said with a smirk and a rather large amount of confidence.

"Yeah, I'm sure he would." You laugh a bit, she's always been a little bit of a minx and it was clear that she wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

-> Masterlist <-

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #oliver stark #911 on fox #911 abc #911 show

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asthroophile · 5 days ago

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tteokbeokki: love — SAJA BOYS

WC: 2.8k+

PART: I. SEASONS, III. LILY, IV. BONFIRE

You were lounging in your room, seated at your desk, typing away on your laptop. The first day as a manager had left you utterly drained especially when the boyband you were assigned to manage felt more like a pack of wild animals than professional idols.

“How to be a good manager…” you murmured as you clicked on a YouTube video.

“You don’t need a tutorial to be a good manager,” came a sudden voice from behind you, Baby’s voice.

You didn’t even flinch. “Still, i want to do better for all of you.”

“You already are the best for us,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I picked you, didn’t I? And my choices are always the best ones.”

You sighed. “That’s what you think, what about the others? I’m not even sure I’m cut out for this job. You guys don’t even have your own agency building. You’re literally using my apartment as your base, how am I supposed to feel secure in a job that can’t even guarantee my salary?” You glanced at Baby flatly and scoffed, “This has to be the dumbest decision I’ve ever made, i should’ve stayed at my old job.”

Turning back to your screen, you resumed typing, listing out schedules, basic rules for the members, and anything else to keep them at least somewhat organized. Baby stayed quiet, watching you work before eventually moving over to sit on your bed.

“…Sorry,” he muttered.

“For what?” you asked.

“For being a burden,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean for you to struggle this much because of us. But… we have to do something. For someone, if we don’t, our souls will be eaten.”

You stopped typing, staring at him in confusion.

"What are you even talking about?”

Baby fiddled with his fingers, clearly unsure how to explain it, “If I were allowed to tell you everything—” he stopped mid-sentence, abruptly pressing his hands to his ears.

“Baby? Hey, are you okay?” You rushed to his side, concerned. “Is something wrong with your ears?”

“Did you forget me already?” he asked suddenly, looking at you with a strange intensity.

You blinked, “What? No, I… I didn’t forget you. We just met, didn’t we?”

“I chose you because we have met before.” He slowly lowered his hands. “These voices… they keep haunting me. I can’t escape them, but when I’m with you, they go quiet. You silence them because you’re the one I need.”

You let out a nervous laugh, "Did you just read something romantic online or something? That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“It is me,” he replied, calmly.

“Come on, that kind of talk doesn’t suit a guy with a baby face and a deep voice.”

“That’s just part of my charm."

You chuckled, a small smile tugging at your lips. For a second, it felt like he was back to being the Baby you knew.

“Can you do me a favor?” he asked.

“Of course… as long as it’s nothing weird,” he grinned, clearly expecting the opposite. You were already starting to regret. Without warning, he leaned his head on your shoulder. If he hadn’t asked first, you probably would’ve shoved him away by now.

“…Is this considered weird?”

“Kinda,” you mumbled, your hand absentmindedly stroking his hair. What even is this moment? You weren’t the type to let people get physically close especially not someone like Baby.

You thought maybe, this moment of peace would last long enough to keep you from going fully insane managing a broke boyband. But you were wrong.

The door to your room slammed open, Jinu and his gang burst in like action movie villains only to freeze, staring at the sight of you and Baby in a position that definitely looked too intimate.

“What are you two doing?”

Jinu’s voice cracked mid-sentence, a perfect mix of shock and scandalized disbelief. Behind him, Mystery blinked slowly as if trying to process the scene, while Abby gasped dramatically like he was watching a K-drama unfold in real time.

You immediately tried to stand but Baby was still leaning on you, totally unbothered.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” you blurted.

“Really?” Jinu crossed his arms. “Because it looks like our manager is cuddling our rapper during working hours in their private apartment base that we’re definitely not supposed to treat like a dorm.”

Baby yawned lazily, "Why are you acting like I don’t cuddle with you all the time?”

“That’s different!” Jinu snapped. “You’re annoying when you do it to me. This looks like... like, romantic tension!”

Abby squealed.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” you muttered, finally shoving Baby off of you. He made a small “oomph” as he fell sideways onto the bed, entirely unfazed.

Mystery tilted his head, “Wait… were we interrupting something important?”

“YES,” Baby and Jinu said at the same time, but with completely opposite tones.

You ran your hands down your face. “God, no. He was just… being Baby.”

“Which is suspicious by default,” Jinu added under his breath.

You ignored him and stood, brushing off invisible lint from your shirt. “Why are you all here anyway? Don’t tell me you broke the stove again—”

“We were wondering when the next rehearsal was,” Abby chirped. “But I guess some people were busy.”

“I wasn’t busy,” you hissed. “I was managing.”

“Managing what? Your love life?” Jinu teased.

Baby sat up and smirked. “So you do think it looks like a love life.”

“Can everyone shut up,” you snapped.

Jinu broke into a grin, “So does this mean Baby’s your favorite now?”

“He’s not even in the top five,” you shot back.

“There’s five of us,” Mystery whispered.

“Exactly.”

Baby looked wounded, “Betrayal..."

“Oh my God, get out of my room!”

Laughing and dramatically fake-crying, the boys stumbled back out, leaving you to slam the door behind them.

You stared at it for a long second, heart pounding. It wasn’t like you meant to let Baby get close. It just… happened. And worse, you didn’t hate it.

You let out a long, dramatic sigh, thinking finally you’d get your peace back, you were wrong, again. The door burst open for the second time.

“Can you guys knock for once in your life—” You started, already gearing up for a well-deserved rant, but Jinu was faster. He rushed in and clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Wait, wait, I forgot to tell you something important!”

You shoved his hand off your face, “What now?”

“So, remember when we told our fans to join us for a little fan event? Y’know… to play games together?”

You raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Well… it’s today.”

You blinked slowly. “Today as in—now?”

Jinu gave you a sheepish nod. “Yeah, right now, so we kinda need to go.”

You groaned and waved him off. “Then go? Hurry up and get ready.”

He didn’t move, instead, he pointed directly at you.

“You have to come too.”

Your arms crossed your chest instantly, full defense mode. “WHAT? No, absolutely not. I am not going, no one can know I’m your manager!”

Jinu only smiled, “There’s going to be HUNTR/X there."

You took a deep breath, as if weighing a life-or-death decision. Then you clapped your hands together once, “Alright! Everyone get ready quickly! We’re moving in five!”

Jinu grinned wide, already halfway out the door. “Knew that would work!”

You shook your head as you turned to your reflection in the mirror, already dreading but also kinda panicking in excitement about what came next. Time to crash a fan event.

Your poor little boyband was already seated on the modest stage set up for them. Despite their earlier efforts to shove you backstage, you had stood your ground and firmly refused. No way you were hiding behind curtains, you’d rather sit with the crowd, thank you very much.

The event kicked off with a ridiculous game: who can chug the most hot sauce? And you already knew who’d win. Of course, no one outlasts Baby in a battle of pain and food.

You were actually enjoying the event. The energy, the laughter, the weird games, everything felt strangely... endearing. For a moment, you almost forgot how broke your band was. Almost.

But something kept tugging at your mind. You leaned forward slightly, Jinu promised HUNTR/X would be here.

Where were they? Was that little gremlin lying to get you to come?

Then, as if on cue, Jinu’s voice echoed through the speakers with way too much excitement

“Then why say goodbye when we have extra of models coming up? Please welcome Huntrix!”

Your heart skipped, your eyes widened as the lights dimmed and suddenly a dramatic spotlight cut across the stage, revealing three figures.

HUNTRIX.

The crowd lost it. Screams filled the venue. Phones were already out. People were crying, shaking. You, meanwhile, were frozen in your seat.

“Bring out the slides!” Jinu barked.

...What?

Fans started chanting. And then, yes somehow, somehow, a colorful, oversized plastic slide was dragged out.

THE SLIDE. And HUNTR/X actually used it.

Dressed in leather. Sliding down. Screeching all the way. The sound of leather squeaking violently against plastic echoed across the venue like a war cry of fashion versus physics.

Jinu bowed deeply, “It was truly an honor to share the stage with you.”

“No, no, no,” HUNTRIX replied smoothly, bowing just as low. “The honor is ours.”

Saja boys bowed again. “No, ours.”

HUNTR/X followed, "Ours.”

You watched in disbelief as the two groups continued bowing at each other, again and again, until the stage was finally covered with a soft curtain signaling the end of the event.

You stared at the now-closed stage, your brain fried. What kind of fever dream of an event was this? But your confusion didn’t last long.

Because the moment you stood up, your instincts screamed something was off. You turned your head only to see your band members bolting off the stage.

Being chased by huntrix.

“OH MY GOD,” you groaned, leaping to your feet. “What kind of trouble have they gotten into now?!”

Without thinking, you dashed out of the crowd, weaving through people, ignoring fans asking if you were someone important.

You spotted them running like children who’d broken a window, heading straight toward—

“Is that... a hot spring?!”

You narrowed your eyes in horror, yes, it was.

You picked up your pace. “I swear if they start an all-out hot spring brawl with huntrix, I’m quitting this job and faking my own death—!"

You weren’t sure what you’d find when you caught up.

But one thing was clear: your chaotic boyband was about to drag you into yet another disaster.

You were gasping for air as you finally reached the entrance to the hot spring, sweat dripping down your temples. Without thinking, you shoved open the door—

WHAM!

Something—a shoe? a flaming towel??—nearly flew into your face. You screamed, barely dodging it, and your jaw dropped at the chaos that unfolded before your eyes.

Idols, real, famous idols were fighting actual demons. You blinked and then you rubbed your eyes.

Nope, still there. Zoe was literally stabbing a horned creature while Mira spun mid-air and sliced through a screeching demon like she was in a drama finale with insane VFX.

Until you saw him. Jinu arguing with Rumi, in the middle of an actual demon brawl.

“JINU!” you shouted, your voice cracking from disbelief and impending wrath. You started sprinting toward him, he was so grounded for this, but you didn’t make it more than two steps before something with claws lunged at you.

But then the thing dropped. Dead.

Mira stood in front of you, sword dripping, face pale and wide-eyed, “What are you doing here? It’s not safe! Get out!”

Your voice shook. “I—I’m looking for my boyband!”

Mira looked at you like you were the delusional one here, “Boyband—?”

“Mira, behind you!” Zoe shouted from across the steam-filled chaos.

Mira spun and slashed without hesitation, gutting another demon before it reached her.

“No time for that!” she barked, already running toward another threat. “Get out of here!”

You were still trying to process whether you were hallucinating when a very real demon tail smacked into a wall right next to your head.

Yeah, no, time to run.

You stumbled out of the hot spring, heart hammering, lungs on fire, hair sticking to your forehead, and screamed into the night air:

“THEY’RE SO DAMN TROUBLESOME I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO TALK TO MY IDOLS IN PEACE!”

You looked around frantically, realizing your five boyband idiots had vanished yet again.

You didn’t know if they were fighting, hiding, or accidentally having tea with some elder demon out back. But you were going to find them and yell at them loudly, possibly with a frying pan.

You wandered the streets like a lost soul, still seething as you searched for your wayward boyband. Every step was accompanied by a muttered complaint under your breath—until a familiar silhouette caught your eye.

Jinu? Thank god, one of them, at least.

You rushed toward him, only for him to flinch, like he was about to bolt. But you got to him first, grabbing his wrist before he could escape.

“Jinu! What are you doing out here alone? Where are the others?” you demanded, keeping a firm grip on his wrist.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stared at your hand, the one clutching his wrist. You quickly realized what you were doing and let go.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“They’re safe, somewhere,” he said calmly.

“Somewhere? What does that even mean? You guys are always glued together, and now you're just… here? Alone? Tell me where they are—I may not be getting paid for this, but I’m still responsible for you guys.”

Your words came out sharper than intended, frustration boiling over. Jinu, however, simply laughed at your reaction.

“You really do care about us, huh?”

“Well—duh? I’m your manager, even without a contract. You’re the one who said I was, remember? Contract or not, I’m still stuck with you guys.”

He just looked at you. No, watched you, something in his gaze made your stomach twist.

“Can you not look at me like that?” you asked, voice faltering.

“…Can you touch me again?”

"What?”

“Touch me.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘TOUCH YOU’?!”

“Just… touch me?” he repeated, almost like a plea.

“ARE YOU INSANE?! DID THAT WHOLE BOTTLE OF SPICY SAUCE FRY YOUR BRAIN?!”

But Jinu didn’t flinch at your outburst. Instead, he calmly reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers with his.

“I didn’t think it would actually work,” he murmured. “Baby really found the right person.”

Your heart skipped.

“What… what do you mean I’m the right person?” you whispered, trying to pull away but his grip only tightened.

Jinu didn’t answer, but something told you everything was about to get much, much weirder.

Jinu let go of your hand and took a step back, putting distance between you, “I have to go.”

“To where? Wait, answer me—where are the others?”

“We’ll come back to your apartment,” he said, too casually for your liking.

“No. No, you’re clearly hiding something from me.” You stepped forward, refusing to let him escape that easily. “Why has everything gone wrong since I met you guys? It’s like I’ve been cursed! I— I even saw demons! I don’t know if I was hallucinating or what, but—”

“You saw demons?” His voice shifted, sharper now, more alert.

“YES? And Huntrix killed them. I saw it all when they were chasing you! What’s going on? Do you guys have something to do with Huntrix?”

Jinu didn’t reply.

Instead, his eyes flickered anywhere but yours, over your shoulder, down to his shoes, to the sky, anywhere that wasn’t your gaze.

Your frustration peaked, “Say something! Don’t stand there like this is normal!”

“I’m sorry…” he finally said, voice barely above a whisper, “Maybe in another life, I’d be able to explain everything to you.”

He stepped closer and you instinctively took a step back.

“Another life? Why not now…?” you asked quietly.

“Because we can’t risk losing you.” His eyes finally met yours. “You’re the heart of our existence.”

The words made no sense, you opened your mouth to ask more but before you could, Jinu reached out and flicked your forehead, gently, almost like a joke.

A blinding warmth pulsed through your skull, darkness bloomed at the edges of your vision, and then—nothing. You were asleep before you could even fall.

Darkness.

That was all you could sense—an infinite, suffocating blackness swallowing every corner of your surroundings. You felt as if you were floating, untethered, as though gravity itself had abandoned you. Then, out of the silence, a voice emerged—deep and heavy, pressing itself against your ear like a whisper laced with iron.

“So you’re the one who made my followers forget their original purpose,” it said, low and venomous. “How troublesome.”

You tried to move, to pull away from the voice, but it only crept closer, curling around you like smoke. No matter how far you shifted, it stayed near—breathing down your neck.

“Listen carefully,” the voice growled, “if you keep interfering with my plan to consume every human soul, then I’ll start with you. You’ll be the first I devour. And then… them.”

Your heart dropped.

“You mean those five idiots? What do you even want with them?” you snapped, unable to see who—or what—was speaking, but your frustration outweighed your fear.

The voice hissed. “This is exactly why I detest people like you. So attached. So pitiful. Drenched in shame you can’t shake off, even after five timelines.”

You clenched your fists. “Yeah, well, I’ve heard weirder speeches from Jinu and Baby, and guess what? You sound just as crazy as the rest of them. So congratulations, you’re officially the sixth idiot in my life.”

There was a beat of silence. Then the voice laughed.

Not loud, just… slow. The kind of laughter that made your skin crawl.

“Gwi-ma,” it said at last. “Remember that name, my daughter.”

The darkness around you shifted—like a television screen cutting to black—and suddenly you couldn’t breathe. Invisible hands clawed at your throat, choking you, forcing the air from your lungs. You thrashed, helpless, until— you woke up, gasping, drenched in sweat. Your sheets tangled around your limbs, your chest rising and falling too fast to be normal. You were in your room.

It was just a dream, just a nightmare.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice said softly.

You turned your head and found Mystery standing beside your bed, holding out a glass of water.

"You were tossing like crazy," he added, stepping closer. "Thought you were gonna burn up from that fever."

Fever?

You stared at him, still breathing heavily, your throat ached, your hands trembled. Mystery knelt beside the bed, offering the glass. You didn't take it right away.

"Did I say anything while I was asleep?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head. "No... why?"

You glanced at your hand, no bruises, no marks around your neck. But the lingering weight of something unseen still pressed against your chest.

"No reason," you said finally, taking the water with shaking fingers. "Just... bad dreams."

“By the way, where are the others?” you asked, just to break the silence lingering between you and Mystery.

“In the living room, waiting for you to wake up. Why? Should I call them in?”

You barely opened your mouth to answer, but Mystery had already risen and headed toward the door.

“I didn’t even say yes…” you muttered with a sigh, dropping back against your pillows.

“Boss!!” Abby burst into the room dramatically, practically sliding across the floor before slumping against your side, his arm slung lazily over your shoulders. “I thought you were dead! I already started imagining the worst.”

“Say that again and I swear I’ll dump this water on you,” you threatened, raising the glass Mystery had given you.

Abby backed off instantly.

“You okay?” Romance asked, stepping in with a more reserved tone.

“Do I look okay to you?” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Snappy. That means she’s getting better,” Baby added with a small smirk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped again.

Baby ignored your tone and walked up to you, scanning your face intently before gently placing his palm against your forehead.

“Still warm,” he murmured, frowning. “I didn’t think the aftermath would hit her this hard.”

You blinked. “What aftermath?”

“Of course it would,” Abby chimed in, flopping onto the arm of a nearby chair. “She’s human, remember? And he was watching us the whole time, saw everything. Even that one conversation between you two and Jinu.”

You sat up straighter. “Hold on—what are you talking about? And where the hell is Jinu? I need to talk to that little jerk. He just flicked me and left me unconscious?!”

You tried to push the blanket away and get up, but Mystery was already there, pressing a hand gently to your shoulder.

“You’re not getting out of bed until you’re fully recovered,” Romance added, arms crossed like he meant it.

You blinked at him.

“…It’s weird coming from you,” you muttered.

“Come on, I do care about you,” Romance said, half-joking, though something in his eyes looked serious. You narrowed your gaze at him, unconvinced.

“Uh-huh,” you muttered, then let out a heavy sigh. “So… what exactly did you guys do that made Huntrix chase you all the way to a hot spring full of demons? I’m being serious here. That wasn’t a dream. I saw them kill that demon. And you guys—” you turned your head toward each of them like a judge staring down her jury, “—what the hell were you doing?!”

The room fell into a tense silence. Baby looked down, Abby fiddled with the hem of his shirt, and Mystery stood still like a statue. Even Romance said nothing.

“Guys?” you snapped.

Romance finally broke the silence, “It’s… not entirely our fault.”

“Oh yeah?” you folded your arms. “Then whose fault is it? Mine?”

“Him.” Abby pointed upward—or maybe just toward the ceiling.

“Him? What do you mean him? Gwi-ma?” you asked sharply.

“You know?” Baby looked startled.

“He said it himself,” you replied quickly. “In the dream. I swear, I’m not making this up. He talked to me, said he was Gwi-ma, that he’d eat me first before the rest of you, because he hated me…?” You trailed off, your voice trembling. “Then he said I was his daughter.”

Romance immediately stood up from the couch. “We need to call Jinu.”

You blinked in disbelief, “What? Why? What does Jinu have to do with this?”

“Because he’s the one Gwi-ma entrusted with the task of harvesting human souls, those meant to be sacrificed for Gwi-ma,” Romance answered without hesitation.

You stared at him like he’d grown another head. “Are you spewing nonsense again?” you scoffed, half-joking.

“No, I’m serious.” His expression was deadly calm. “Keep her here, I’m getting Jinu.”

“Romance? Hey! I’m not done talking to you!” You pushed yourself up, but Abby and Baby quickly held your arms, gently forcing you back down, while Mystery moved to distract you with a glass of water and soft reassurances.

“Relax, Boss. Don’t stress yourself,” Abby muttered.

“Let’s not trigger another fainting spell, alright?” Baby added.

You tried to shake them off, threatening to hit them—either with your hands or, if needed, a pan. But they seemed immune to your threats. Left with no choice, you actually swung. And yes, Abby got hit.

“OU—!” he hissed, now firmly grabbing your arms again to hold you still.

“Ugh! Don’t crowd me like this, let me go!!” you snapped, struggling against their grip.

“Let her go,” came a sudden voice, you turned your head—Jinu. And beside him, Romance.

“Oh great, you showed up too,” you snapped at Jinu, not holding back. “Now I want you to explain every weird thing that’s been happening. No lies, no more tricks, just tell me the damn truth.”

Jinu hadn’t answered yet. Instead, he looked around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes one by one. “Are we really going to tell her everything?”

“Yes?” Romance said, arms crossed. “She literally heard Gwi-ma speak to her.”

“You talked to Gwi-ma?” Jinu’s gaze shifted to you now, disbelief in his voice.

“What even is your connection to Gwi-ma? Isn’t Gwi-ma just some old story or legend?”

Jinu shook his head slowly. “No, he’s real.”

Silence spread through the room like a chill draft.

“Let go of me,” you told Baby and Abby, who had still been holding you back. They released you without protest. You got up from the bed, stormed out of the room—and returned holding a pan.

You slammed it lightly against your palm. “Pick one: sit or kneel.”

“Uh, manager-nim, what are you trying to say…?” Abby asked nervously, eyes fixed on the pan.

“Nothing. Just pick one. Sit. Or. Kneel.”

They all froze, unsure whether to take you seriously or not.

Romance raised his hands. “Okay okay, no need for violence. I’ll sit.”

Baby clicked his tongue. “She’s serious. Don’t test her when she has cookware in her hands.”

“I’m serious because I need answers,” you snapped. “No more cryptic half-truths. I don’t care if I’m ‘just human’ or whatever—you dragged me into this mess, and now I’m part of it whether you like it or not. So someone start talking.”

Jinu exhaled slowly and sat down, legs crossed, eyes unreadable. “Fine, you want the truth?”

You nodded, gripping the handle of your pan tightly.

“Gwi-ma is… the one we made a deal with. Not all of us knew at first. But eventually, we all accepted it.”

“What kind of deal?” you asked. “And why the hell would you ever deal with something like that?”

“We were dying,” Romance said quietly. “Desperate for something—anything. And we made a deal with him.”

“He offered us a better life,” Baby added. “In exchange for his help… a pattern slowly appeared on our bodies. It won’t fade, no matter what we do.”

“That pattern reflects our shame,” Mystery continued, voice low. “The voice we keep hearing—it’s regret. It doesn’t stop. And now… we are his demons. We have to offer him human souls as payment.”

You stared at them in disbelief, your mind spinning. The old folktales your grandmother used to tell you, they were real.

“So… you’ve been demons all this time?” you asked, your voice trembling.

One by one, they nodded.

You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling in your chest. "He said I was his daughter."

Jinu turned sharply to look at you. "Wait—what? We never knew anything about this."

"NEITHER DID I!" you snapped, voice cracking. “You think I knew anything?! All of this just hit me like a bomb, okay? Out of nowhere! One second I was normal, and the next—what? You’re all demons, and I’m suddenly his child? A demon’s child?! No, that’s not possible!”

You shoved up your sleeves and turned your arms over. “If I were his child, I’d have those stupid patterns too, right? But look—nothing! There’s nothing!”

Silence, the room felt like it was holding its breath.

Then Baby stepped forward, carefully, as if afraid you’d lash out again. “Not all patterns are visible,” he said softly. “Some of them… don’t show up unless he wants them to.”

You scoffed. “Great, even my skin is a lie now.”

Mystery looked uneasy. “Do you remember anything strange from your childhood? Nightmares? Blackouts? Maybe seeing someone watching you?”

You hesitated. A memory tried to claw its way up—but you shook it off. “I don’t know, I always thought I was just paranoid or tired. It’s not like I had the easiest childhood.”

Romance paced the room, rubbing his forehead. “If Gwi-ma said that… then it changes everything. He’s never taken an interest in anyone before. Ever.”

“And he talked to her,” Jinu said, more to himself than anyone. “Directly.”

You dropped your head into your hands. “Can I please just wake up now? I’m done, I’m done with this shit."

“I don’t think he’ll let you walk away,” Abby murmured. “If he called you his daughter, then maybe… maybe he thinks you’ll replace us.”

You were just about to ask Abby what he meant when a sudden notification lit up your phone screen.

"Wait, guys— HUNTRIX IS HOLDING A FAN EVENT TOMORROW!”

Your five boys stared at you in confusion as your expression shifted from confusion to pure delight in a split second.

“Okay, let’s just end this conversation right here,” you said quickly, brushing your hair back. “I just woke up from a nightmare, and maybe it messed with my brain a little, alright? You guys aren’t demons—look at you. You’re perfectly normal.”

“But Manager—” Jinu tried to interject.

“Shhh! I’ve been waiting so long for this Huntrix fan event. Don’t ruin it for me.”

The boys exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to respond. Romance leaned in and whispered to Jinu, “We have to be at that fan event tomorrow, let's head out now.”

“But what about her? She already knows everything, but she’s still in denial.”

“I’m in denial because this entire thing is insane, Jinu,” you snapped, placing your hands on your hips.

Jinu raised both palms in surrender. “Okay, okay… at least you look better now. More like your usual, angry self.”

“EXCUSE ME?”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that—I meant your beautiful usual self?”

You narrowed your eyes at him with suspicion. He cleared his throat.

“Right, Boss, no offense… but, uh, can we borrow your sleeping bag?”

“For what?”

“Camping!” Mystery answered a bit too eagerly. “Yeah, camping.”

“Today? Seriously? Are you guys insane?”

“Please, just lend it to us?” Jinu pleaded. But his begging clearly had no effect on you, so he turned to Baby, signaling him to step in.

“I’m not going with you guys,” Baby replied lazily, flopping back onto the couch.

“Exactly, Baby. Don’t go with them,” you agreed with a firm nod.

“BABY?!” the rest of the group exclaimed in unison, as if he’d just betrayed the entire boyband.

PART: I. SEASONS, III. LILY, IV. BONFIRE

🧘🏻‍♀️ OKAY IM WORKING ON THE NEXT PART — hopefully i can type it quickly cuz i still have another draft to finish too 👯‍♀️👯‍♀️

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lowultima · 2 months ago

Text

𝙷𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙶𝚞𝚝𝚜…

𝚅𝚒 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆

└────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘

Vi Hated Your Guts.

Not like, the normal, mature kind of hate- where one can just leave the room or refuse to talk to the hated.

No- fuck no.

Vi had the kind of hate for you that haunted her mind. Any time your name came up in any type of conversation- vi could go on and on about how you were simply unlikable. It wasn’t usual for Vi.

Sure, She had annoyance for those around her- a general dislike for people other than her close family and friends. But vi didn’t really hate individuals.

You, however- were a different story..

So how the fuck she ended up coming back to you over and over again..? She had not a god damn clue.

It started with a fight. The both of you had been fighting for the same position on your shared soccer team- you both wanted to be central attacker. Up in the action- where your blood pumped the hardest as the whistle blew. Vi was shorter, moved faster- the power in her blows were enough to send the ball halfway across the field. She thought she had an easy in.

Then you requested for the same spot.

She remembered after team meeting, coming up to you. “What’s your deal, man?”

“What?”

“I called front and center- I know we don’t really talk much but when someone calls something and does the work to get to a position, you don’t fucking rival them.”

“I’ve been wanting central attack for two years. You just transferred in violet, you don’t call the shots like that.” You stated, packing your jersey in your locker.

“Don’t call me violet. It’s VI” she stated, pointing at her own jersey. “It’s a dick move. If you were good enough to play attacker- you wouldn’t be in midfield for two years.” Vi stated.

You scoffed, turning around.

“I know you think that because your sisters a fucking science genius that you have some weight here- but you don’t have as much history with the team, or the coach- as I do.” You stated, zipping up your jacket.

If this pink haired bitch was gonna fight dirty- you were gonna throw it right back.

“You’re only here because you and your sister came as a duo. This school wants her way more than they want you- and when you realize that, you’ll gain some fucking humility.” You spat in her face, before walking away…

And that started a full on hatred between you two.

It would have been fine if the both of you didn’t like each other. But the fact that your friend groups were so intertwined, plus the fact you both were on the same team- made it hard to ignore. If you shoved vi, she shoved you back. In conversation, Vi would visibly cringe at your laugh- and roll her eyes every time you spoke. You’d tease her about her grades- the ones she could never keep up.

She hated you…but what she hated the most, was when you called her ‘violet.’

‘Violet, pass the damn ball!’

‘You didn’t pass that lab?? Seriously Violet?’

‘It always shocks me when you manage to find a girl willing to deal with you Violet.”

It had been a stain on the team- but no matter who would tell either of you to start getting along, it never worked. Neither of you even attempted to get along.

Touring for finals was the worst though. Multiple hours on the same bus. You’d think the distance would be enough to stop the two of you from arguing.

“Do you think you’ve got enough pickles on your burger??” You’d sneer as vi dumped a shitload of pickle slices onto her meal.

“Enough to drive you away- I can only hope.” Vi glared.

“You know, you snore when you sleep. It’s really annoying”

You whipped your head to look at her as the bus drove down the highway, you couldn’t even find peace from her after a nap.

“Maybe you should stop watching me sleep, y’ fuckin creep.”

Around dinner time, the bus stopped at a motel in a small town, and your coach stood up. “Alright girls, tomorrow morning we gotta get up bright and early. You can handle your free time however you please- but if you’re not on this bus by 7:30 tomorrow, you’re benched. Understood??”

“Yes coach.”

As you slid your duffel bag on the floor of the crappy motel room, you looked to your friend “we doin anything tonight?”

“There’s a dive bar a block or so away- I’m texting the group chat to see who wants to go drinking.”

“Damn- drinking before a game? Is that allowed??”

“I mean, as long as we’re on the bus on time and we aren’t actively fucked up at the game tomorrow night…”

“..alright, I’m game.”

You put on something easy you can dance in- your good bra and your docs and you were out the door. Half the team (or at least the ones who were at least 21)- walked to the bar with wallets in hand, excited to be able to take a break and party a little.

Vi chuckled with her friends in the back of the line- wanting a drink to ease her up.

The bar was a lot more clubbish than she thought. For a small town- they sure knew how to party. It was definitely for the chicks to get white girl wasted- between the early 2000’s club music and the sticky floor from spilt Long Island ice teas on the ground- vi found her peace doing shots at the bar.

She glanced over and saw you dancing, one of your friends grinding on your lap as you cheered with a vodka soda in hand.

She rolled her eyes, but kept glancing over to the dance floor every now and again. She saw her friends dancing- and smiled, before calling for another shot of whatever was cheap and decent tasting. As she downed the glass, she walked over to watch her friends get violently down to gasolina.

She wasn’t much of a dancer…

She might had been tipsy- but she could still spot a creep from a mile away, stalking the dance floor from the sidelines- glancing to your drink- open and raised into the air as you screamed out the lyrics.

The moment she saw a fizz, Violet was across the bar and knocking your drink out of your hand. You gasped as your vodka soda soaked your top. “What the fuck Violet!!” You yelled, pushing her away and rushing to the bathroom to clean yourself up, face red and angry.

Violet rolled her eyes- and called for the bouncer to get the drink spiker out. She was close to kicking his ass herself. After looking around to make sure all her other teammates were accounted for and good, violet groaned as her friend said “well- go explain to her what fuckin happened man. Maybe she’ll finally stop teasing you knowing you saved her ass.”

Vi huffed, grabbing another shot before begrudgingly going to the women’s bathroom; and knocking.

You opened the door slightly “Gert? That- oh for jannas sake-“ you said, before vi pushed in the door and shut it behind her. “God stop yelling for once, you’re so fucking loud.” Vi said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You were wiping off your shirt with paper towels- the white fabric stained light brown from the coke, and you smelled like an alcoholic. “Get the fuck out violet-“

“I was only trying to save your ass from being roofied- dickhead- and stop calling me that.” She said, taking the paper towels out of your hand and tossing them to the ground. “So you can fucking thank me-“

“I can handle myself, Violet.”

“Stop. Calling me that.”

“Oh what? What are you gonna do?” You said, looking at her, pushing against her chest. “You think you’re fucking useful but you’re not. None of us needs you to protect us, or give us training advice, or any of that shit- nobody wants you.

𝚅 𝙸 𝙾 𝙻 𝙴 𝚃.”

You suddenly gasped as your back hit the tile wall-your eyes meeting cold blue as vi grunted in your face.

“Could you stop being so. Fucking. Annoying. For one god damn SECOND?!” She yelled.

The both of you panted in silence, looking at each others faces…

You didn’t know how you ended up like this. Didn’t even know who pulled the other in first.

The both of you pulled each other in like it was the last thing either of you would do, lips messy- teeth clacking, fabric pulling as the both of you desperate ly released the tension between you. Tipsy enough to say fuck it and pull each other in closer.

Vi’s hands gripped your hips like a vice, pulling them in to press against hers. Your tongue grazed her bottom lip and she groaned softly- you could taste the liquor on her tongue and how warm she was.

It was so hot, and you didn’t want to stop.

Your hand threaded into Vi’s hair- fingers gripping into her locks as you pulled her head back.

“Fucking bitch-“ she whispered, before gasping softly as she felt your lips against her neck. You could feel her throat bob as she swallowed, and you nipped at her skin as you felt her lower torso press into yours.

The both of you rocked against each other, desperate as the bass of the music pounded in your ears. Though- you weren’t sure if it was the music or your heart beat. Vi’s hands slid down and gripped your ass tight, thigh sliding between your legs as she pinned you against the wall with her body- lips finding yours again. You whined softly.

“Yeah, fuckin like that huh?” Vi whispered messily against your lips as her leg pressed harder between your legs. You just couldn’t help yourself, grinding and humping against her thigh as she sucked on your tongue.

Your hands gripped at her shirt, groping her tits as she rocked her body against yours. “Take it off-“ you grunted, pulling away from her lips; ripping the collar of her shirt slightly at you tried to take her shirt off.

“Shut the fuck up-“ Vi slapped you across the face lightly, and gripped your jaw as the pushed you back against the wall. You moaned- hands reaching to unbuckle the redheads’ belt as Vi’s palm pressed against your pussy through your jeans. “You fucking liked that didn’t you?” Vi whispered against your cheek, rubbing circles hard into your clit. “F-fuck you Violet..” you whispered.

You suddenly felt yourself being pulled by your belt loops to the grimey sink. Violet pushed you forward against it, and you looked back. “What the hell vi-“ you started, before your ass was roughly slapped, your jeans being yanked down to your knees- and you gasped. The air suddenly felt a lot colder than it was before against your wet cunt. You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against the mirror.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re gonna see every second of this..” vi stated, gripping into your hair and tugging you up to look at yourself in the mirror.

“Look at me.” She stated, and you whimpered softly. “I hate you violet-“

You felt a sharp slap to your ass, and you whined. Loudly.

“That ain’t what you call me…” vi said softly against your ear- fingers slowly tracing between your folds, teasing at your clit without placing any pressure on it. You were practically dripping, you’ve never felt so fucking horny in your life.

This was stupid, so fucking stupid- you hated this woman: you hated her fucking guts

But as her middle and ring finger pressed in between your folds- just barely inserting herself in you, you cracked.

“V-vi…”

“OH!”

You nearly screamed as vis fingers pounded into you, your eyes catching her half lidded focused expression as her fingers curled into a spot you haddnt been able to touch in a long time.

“Fuck, if this is all it took to get you to stop talking- would’ve done it months ago.” Vi muttered, finally meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Yeah- you like my fingers in your slutty pussy huh?” When you didn’t answer, she tugged you by the hair again, making you arch.

“Y-yes! Yes..” you nearly cried, legs shaking as you leaned against the sink for support- gripping onto the porcelain for dear life as her thumb dug into your clit. “Yeah, this is your fucking cunt alright. Loud as your mouth.” She said, the wet Schlick of her fingers pounding in and out of you practically echoed in the small room.

“Vi…v-vi..” you whimpered out, Saliva dripping down your chin and into the sink as she fucked you with such severity. Your jeans slipped down further to your ankles, and vi used the opportunity to spread your legs wider, booted foot pressing your inner calf to make your spread your legs as far as they could go.

“Look at yourself.” She stated, and your eyes found your reflection as you felt yourself getting closer and closer- though- what you really wanted to focus on was Vi. When vi realized you were looking at her through the reflection- her hand went faster.

“Yeah- look at me while I’m fucking you...” Vi muttered- noticing how you pushed back on her fingers. It was clear you were close, and she wanted to see you fall apart.

Your legs were about to collapse, but vi let go of your hair and held you up. Your head didn’t drop an inch.

“Gonna- gonna-“ you could barely get out, before your body jerked as you creamed on her fingers- letting out a desperate moan as she rubbed your clit nice and firm to work you through your orgasm.

Your cum dripped between her fingers and down into your panties as she slowly pulled out of you. She moved to place her two fingers in front of your mouth. “Clean up your mess..” vi said, almost tenderly. You looked at her reflection as you slowly licked up her fingers.

“S-shit..” vi muttered, licking her lips as she looked down at your ass.

She almost didn’t, was about to leave you there to clean yourself up like the mess you were..

She almost didn’t.

But your voice was enough to make her change her mind.

“V-vi..?” Your wrecked voice asked, wondering why she paused- conflicted look on her face.

She fucking snapped.

Vi yanked down her jeans and boxers, just enough to expose her clit.

“Spit.” She demanded, her fingers still on your lips.

You did as you were told. A little too fucked to question.

Vi was quick to run your saliva over her large clit, stroking and rubbing herself as she pulled your ass back by your hips, one hand reaching up to wrap around your neck as she humped against your plush ass.

“Fuck- that’s it- fuckin take it-“ she whispered, your body pressed between her and the sink- cold porcelain pressed directly on your abused clit, rubbing over it over and over. You whined, but the noise was drowned in your throat as vi pressed against you over and over, dragging her clit against you.

“Mn! Hmn-“ you choked as you began to grind against the sink, panting out, eyes half lidded and looking to the ceiling as Vi’s voice graced your ear. She whimpered softly, cursing every now and again as she ground against the muscles of your ass.

There was a heavy knock at the bathroom door- and you were about to pause- but vi kept going

“Occupied!” She grunted out as her hips slapped against your ass, your clit buzzing with overstimulation as you began to feel lightheaded.

“Vi! Vi vi vi vi-“ your voice choked under the grip of her hand- knees buckling as you squirted, your cum dribbling down your legs as you realized vi was looking directly at you in the mirror- half lidded, horny eyes taking in every one of your expressions as her clit finally twitched with completion.

The both of you panted loudly, faces beaded with sweat as Vi’s hand released your neck, arm wrapping around your waist as her forehead rested against your shoulder.

You..

..You swore you could barely feel her lips press against your shoulder blade, before she pulled away from you, yanked up her boxers and jeans; before walking to the door.

“Don’t ever call me violet again.”

She stated coldly, before opening and slamming the door behind her.

You paused, still panting as you looked at yourself in the mirror- and realizing that that was the best sex you’d ever had…

God. You hated her fucking guts…

…𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

Lol not edited.

#vi smut #wlw #arcane smut #sevika smut #arcane #arcane vi smut #lesbian #wlw nsft #arcane violet #violet arcane #vi x you #vi x reader #vi #vi arcane #sevika

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oceantornadoo · 5 months ago

Note

Just thinkn here 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Simon is on his way back from the shops, and when he does get home reader is sat on the floor crying over a broken vase or somthing for absolutely no Reason!

so your ask reminded me of this post i saw! which is price x reader and lovely. because of that i’m going to spice it up a little so im not rewriting it lol. this is f!reader

unedited! simon is able to pick up reader but let's be real that man is built like a tank so yes he could pick up anyone.

stalking simon riley is not for the weak.

well, it’s not exactly stalking if he knows you’re doing it.

ghost doesn’t open up easily. you sensed it when you joined the team, having to translate his grunts and small quips over comms into real facts.

infiltrating an eastern european town, combating snow and christmas lights, just for simon to grunt "fuckin' hate this holiday" in your ear.

commenting on how he only wears a certain sweatshirt one base. he shrugged and said "doesn't have those strings", letting you know he hates the bounce of them against his chest.

you collect these bits like puzzle pieces, building the image that is simon riley. but it's never enough, it doesn't quell this ache in your chest to know your fellow lieutenant. so tonight, you've decided to knock on his door under the guise of checking in after a nasty hit he took from you last mission.

"hi, ghost." he opens the door a crack, scanning you up and down. you take in his medical mask and the remnants of eyeblack surrounding his eyes. it's a casual look on a man you've never seen be casual. "bird." he says, his nickname for you murmured like a secret. "i wanted to check on you after last mission. haven't really seen you around base." he opens the door further, a surprising change of events. you step in cautiously, checking your surroundings like some hostile is going to jump out of his closet. ghost chuckles gruffly at your actions and you relax at the sound, shoulders dropping easily. you toe off your boots silently, then move further in.

ghost plops down on his bed, patting the space beside him. you (and soap) are the only people he lets close to him, but even with that, you've never sat on his bed. "it was your shoulder, right?" he nods, tapping the shoulder closest to you. "nothin' torn to flutter over, bird. jus' sore." you roll your eyes, leaning back on the bed so you can see the back of him. the massive breadth of his shoulders almost blocks the fading sunlight from your vision. you prod at the sore muscle, noticing how he tenses before letting his shoulders fall back down.

"does this hurt?" you ask, almost a whisper. he grunts out a 'no' but lets you continue to poke it this way and that, finding where it hurts the most. the pain seems to be minimal, but ghost feels like the type of soldier to hide a gunshot wound until he fainted from blood loss. "you should go to PT." you press your palm into the meat of him and you can't even pretend it's for medical reasons when truly, you have a morbid curiosity to know the limits of his body. ghost hisses and you jolt back like you've been burned. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry!" he shakes his head, one heavy paw clamping down on your thigh as it kicks out in shock. "'s fine, birdie." when you move forward, his hand stays, anchoring you to the mattress. it's gloved but the heat of it is searing through your fatigues. "maybe you should grab an ice pack for tonight." he squeezes your thigh before returning his hand to his lap like it was never there. suddenly, your body is wracked with chills.

"back soon, then." ghost stands up from the bed, the mattress creaking with effort. he's...leaving? "so i'll see you in the morning?" you make to get up but he shoots you a look, locking you in place. "said i'll be back. you can stay." he moves to the dresser and you watch him peel his mask off, exchanging it for a simple baclava. you've seen his face before but take the time to examine the back of his head. his haircut is choppy, like he did it himself. the image is gone a second later when black fabric encases the rest of his head, hiding his face from view. he leaves with a head nod, favoring his other shoulder to open the door. the moment he leaves, your spring up in fervor.

you start with his desk. ignoring the paperwork and private journals, you look at the few items sprinkled throughout. extra masks, pens for work, a few books on military strategy. no photos of family or friends outside of the military, but one of the task force from a few months after you joined. it was the first time ghost had ever touched you on purpose, his hand around your waist as the five of you smiled at the camera. soap is grinning, gaz looks like he's seducing the person behind the photo, price's smile is hidden by his beard, and you're squealing like a kid while ghost squeezes your waist. his mask is on, of course, but you delude yourself into spotting smile lines around his eyes.

you move on to his windowsill. surprisingly, there's a very dead succulent that was clearly never watered after being gifted. next to it is a small vase, completely out of place with the rest of the barebones room. it only has enough space for a singular flower but sits empty next to the dead plant. you reach out to trace the beautiful blue pattern but with one unsure flick of your thumb, it falls to the ground with a small crash. you freeze.

shards of porcelain surround your socked feet. tears well in your eyes as you think about how disappointed ghost will be. your hands cover your mouth like a bad mime, shock etched clearly on your face. of course, that's when ghost decides to return.

"snagged the last cake slice from mess, figured you'd want- oh." he stands at the door entrance with an ice pack in one hand and a plate of cake in the other. the sweetness of it hits you in the gut and the tears that were already forming fall hard down your cheeks. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, simon. it was so fast and i didn't mean to wreck it." you sniffle out, wiping fiercely at the tears sliding down your face. he sets the cake slice down on the bed, then nears the scene of disaster. "can ya jump?" he asks, standing at the edge of the broken pieces with his arms open. you gulp, then nod. it's a small leap but he catches you easily, awkwardly pressing you to his chest as your legs scramble for purchase. his hands shift downwards and you get the memo, wrapping your arms around his neck as his own hike your legs around his waist. he walks the two of you over to the desk, plopping you down unceremoniously. your legs drop from his waist, but he still stands in between them, letting your feet brush his calves.

"you hurt?" you shake your head 'no', swiping at the remaining tears on your face. "i'm sorry again, simon, i really am." instead of answering, he pulls off his mask and tosses it on the table. he doesn't look mad, per say, but there's conflict in his eyes. you mumble out another apology and train your eyes on his legs instead of his face.

a gloved hand reaches out and tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. "was jus' a stupid vase, bird. nothin' special." you hiccup, unsure. "are you- are you sure? i'll pay you back, i promise." his thumb strokes the soft skin of your lips, a relaxing rhythm back and forth. "saw it in a flea market after my first mission." you frown at how sentimental it was. "that means it was special." he shakes his head. "got somethin' more special an' harder to break." you don't know how to reply to that. he presses down on your lip until his thumb meets your teeth. it's terribly intimate. instead of ending the conversation there, you ask a question, always needing to no more about him.

"like what?" you whisper. he grunts, thumb swiping against your teeth before pulling back to cup your cheek. "this bird who breaks my shit, 'pparently." you bark out a laugh, then stop when you realize he means it. "really?" he nods. you wrap your legs around the back of his, tugging him in closer. "i am really sorry, though. maybe we could buy a new one or-"

he cuts you off with a kiss. it's gentler than you thought he would kiss. there's a scar running through his lip and you love the feel of it, biting his bottom lip playfully as you pull him in closer. "such a magpie, goin' through my shit." he murmurs, breaking the kiss just to give you another one. "simon." you respond, whispering his name like a promise. your hands find purchase in his hair, nails digging into his scalp. he rips away with a low moan and you whine at the loss. "need to clean this up 'fore someone gets hurt." you lurch to slip off the desk but strong hands keep you there, his eyes scrunched in a glare. "one of us is wearin' shoes, birdie." you glance down and sure enough, your socks are already covered in porcelain flakes. skeleton hands tug them off, fingers caressing the delicate bones in your foot reverently before pulling away.

"stay here." you nod, feeling childish with your mistake. he can sense it, always does, so he leans in to peck your forehead. "stay put. no touchin', magpie." you grin. he shakes his head, a small smile on his face. "you don't mind cleaning up my mess?" you ask. he snorts, caressing your chin before pulling away.

"i'll always clean your messes, birdie."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #tornadothoughts #ghost call of duty #fluff #ghost headcanons #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley cod #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley

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mediocre-shark-tales · 4 months ago

Text

THE ACCIDENT

Doohan Sister Reader F1 Driver Reader Cadillac Formula 1 Reader

33 pages or 12519 words later and I have finished this action packed emotional chapter to the story of Ghost. Please enjoy.

The past week had been a whirlwind of laughter, late nights, and the kind of deep, unshakable comfort that only my grid family could provide. After everything I had been through, it was exactly what I needed—a chance to breathe, to heal, and to remind myself that I wasn’t alone. And, surprisingly, I had gained one more friend along the way.

Max had spent the better part of the last month trying to convince me to finally let Charles Leclerc into my world—to let him meet me, the real me, not just the masked version he had only ever seen from a distance. I had resisted at first, hesitant to break down yet another carefully built wall. But Max had always been persistent, and in the end, I gave in.

The next day, Max showed up at my place with Charles in tow, looking far too pleased with himself. And Charles? The moment he saw me—really saw me—the shock on his face barely lasted two seconds before it was replaced by something else. Adoration. Amazement.

He had grinned, telling me how much he had already heard about me from Max, how he had hoped for a long time to forge a connection with me, even if he had never expected to see the person behind the helmet. And somehow, just like that, conversation flowed effortlessly between us. Hours passed in a blur of stories, jokes, and learning about each other in a way that felt both new and familiar at the same time.

At some point, without even realizing it, my family drama spilled out. The pain, the hurt, the anger I had carried for so long—it all came tumbling from my lips before I had the chance to stop it. I barely had time to regret it before Charles moved, wrapping me in a firm, reassuring hug.

He didn’t pretend to understand everything. He didn’t try to offer meaningless platitudes. Instead, he spoke with quiet honesty, telling me that while he might not know the pain of being rejected by his parents, he did understand the ache of loss. He knew what it was like to have someone who had supported you through every step of your career never get to see the dream come true—to race in Formula 1 without the one person who had always believed in you standing by the barriers, watching.

At that moment, I knew. Charles understood me. Just like the others, he too found something within me that he understood better than anyone else.

And now, as I stepped out of my apartment, bag slung over my shoulder, ready for another race weekend, the weight I had been carrying for so long felt just a little lighter. My grid family was waiting. The paddock was calling.

—

The start of another race weekend always brought a familiar mix of excitement and nerves, the kind that settled deep in my chest like an old friend. But today, there was something else—something off. A strange unease sat awkwardly in my stomach, gnawing at the edges of my focus. I couldn’t quite place it, but I pushed it aside. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. This was the last weekend before the summer break, and I was determined to make the most of it.

As I strolled into the paddock, the usual swarm of media gathered behind their designated barriers, cameras clicking and rolling, capturing every moment. They never called out for me, never asked for a wave or a smile. With my face hidden behind the helmet, I was more of an enigma than a personality to them—just another image to add to their coverage. That suited me just fine.

I was making my way toward my garage when I heard my name being called from behind.

“GHOST! WAIT UP!”

I turned, already recognizing the voice before I saw him. Charles Leclerc jogged toward me, a bright smile on his face, and at his side trotted a small, energetic pup. My lips curled into a smile of my own—though, of course, he couldn’t see it.

Once he caught up, Charles beamed, gesturing toward the little ball of fur at his feet. “This is Leo,” he introduced. “I remember you mentioning getting an emotional support dog, so I thought you might like to meet him.”

I crouched down, offering my hand, and Leo wasted no time in bounding into my arms, his tiny tail wagging furiously as he sniffed every inch of me. I cooed at him, running a gentle hand over his soft fur, and he responded by attempting to climb into the oversized hood of my hoodie.

Charles chuckled, watching as Leo squirmed, determined to make himself comfortable. “If you do go through with getting one, I’d recommend a small breed—it’ll make traveling a lot easier.”

I nodded in agreement, still distracted by the little pup, who had now successfully wedged himself halfway into my hoodie.

A voice called for Charles from the Ferrari garage, drawing his attention. With a sigh, he reached out to scoop Leo back into his arms. “Well, good luck out there today. I’m sure we’ll get a chance to talk more later.”

I gave him a nod in return, watching as he jogged off, Leo happily nestled against his chest.

Shaking off the lingering warmth of the moment, I turned on my heel and stepped into my own garage, ready to focus on the race ahead.

—

My heart pounded against my ribs as his car loomed closer in my mirrors, the unmistakable pink and blue livery flashing like a warning light in the distance. Every second, he gained on me, the threat creeping closer with each turn. I was on a cooldown lap, ready to box early and call it a day for FP1, but Jack wasn’t making it easy. From the moment this session had started, he’d been aggressive—dangerously so.

At first, I chalked it up to his usual reckless driving, but when Diego pointed out that Jack had only been pulling these moves around me, it became obvious—this wasn’t just aggression. This was personal. He was using me as a punching bag for whatever anger was eating away at him. At first, it was just frustrating, but as the session went on, frustration turned into real fear. He was playing with fire, and I was the one between him and the flames.

I stayed hyper-aware of his position, trying to predict his next move. As I approached the apex, I did everything right—I stayed predictable, held my line, and even gave him extra space to make sure I wasn’t in his way. But it didn’t matter. Jack veered wide—too wide—and cut straight back into my path.

I barely had time to react before the impact.

His front tire clipped the side of my car, sending a violent jolt through the chassis. My reflexes kicked in, hands tightening on the wheel as I fought to control the sudden instability. Instinct told me to pull off and avoid further damage, but the moment my tires hit the grass, the car betrayed me.

Everything went wrong in an instant.

The back end snapped loose, and before I could countersteer, the car spun—a brutal 180-degree turn sending me straight into the barriers. The impact rattled through me, a sickening crunch of carbon fiber breaking apart on contact. My head jerked forward before the harness caught me, and for a moment, all I could hear was my own rapid breathing over the crackling team radio.

“Ghost! Are you okay?” Diego’s voice was tense, bordering on frantic.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second before letting out a frustrated sigh, my pulse still racing. “Yeah, I’m good,” I muttered, pressing the radio button. “But the car is definitely fucked. What the hell is he doing? Wasn’t I out of his way?” My voice came out sharp, edged with frustration and adrenaline.

A moment of silence. Then, Diego exhaled. “Yeah… you were. He just—” A pause. “Safety car is out. They’re ending the session early.”

I glanced at the damage. The front wing was completely destroyed, one of the rear tires had half-torn itself off the rim, and the sidepod looked like it had taken a serious beating. The chassis itself seemed intact, but it was going to be a long night for the mechanics.

The medical car arrived within minutes, pulling up beside me as marshals rushed to assess the wreckage. I unclipped my belts and carefully pulled myself out, stepping onto the grass. My hands trembled slightly—not from injury, just the aftermath of the crash settling in.

“You alright?” One of the medics asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, though my jaw was tight with irritation.

“Protocol,” he reminded me with a small, knowing smile. “Hop in. We’ll take you back to your garage.”

With a sigh, I climbed into the medical car, watching through the window as the marshals began lifting my wrecked car onto a recovery truck. In the distance, Jack’s car cruised slowly back to the pits, untouched.

Coward.

As we pulled away, I clenched my fists. If he wanted to make this personal, then fine. But he was about to learn that I didn’t go down without a fight.

When I stepped back into the garage, the tension in the air was thick. The entire crew was hard at work assessing the wrecked car, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. The sight made my stomach twist—this wasn’t how I wanted FP1 to end.

Before I could dwell on it, Nico and Diego appeared at my side, their faces unreadable. Without a word, they gestured for me to follow them. I obliged, letting them lead me to a private meeting room tucked away from prying eyes. The moment the door shut behind us, I finally let out a breath and pulled off my helmet, running a hand through my hair to fix the inevitable mess.

Nico didn’t waste any time. “The damage is bad,” he started, his tone serious. “The team thinks they can have it fixed by FP3, but that means you’ll be sitting out of FP2.”

I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over my face. “Yeah… I figured as much.” It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than missing the entire weekend. After a beat, I straightened up. “Make sure the crew knows how much I appreciate them. Actually, Nico—can we get them a couple of packs of energy drinks tonight? They’re going to need it.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’ll have someone pick some up and bring them in.”

I returned his smile with a grateful nod. “Thanks.”

Diego cleared his throat. “You can change into something more comfortable for now,” he said, then added, “but you’ll need to handle media duties before you head out.”

I groaned internally but nodded. “Figured. Alright, I’ll be quick.”

With that, I slipped my helmet back on, masking any lingering frustration before heading off to my driver’s room to swap into something more comfortable. If I had to deal with the press, I might as well be cozy while doing it.

Hearing Jack’s words after the crash felt like a knife twisting in my chest. He stood just a few feet away, his voice dripping with venom as he dismissed the incident like it was nothing.

"Ghost should’ve just stayed out of my way."

"It’s not my fault he didn’t move over enough."

Each word hit harder than the impact itself. I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. Killing them with kindness had always been my motto, but even I had my limits.

When the interviewer finally turned to me, asking for my thoughts on the incident, I decided I wasn’t going to sugarcoat the truth.

“Well,” I started, keeping my tone even but firm. “I don’t know why Doohan chose to be that aggressive every time he caught up to me. I was on a cooldown lap, heading back to the pits, and my line for the entire lap was as far out of the way as possible. Honestly, I was watching my mirrors more than I was looking forward. I know what it’s like to lose a solid lap because someone doesn’t move over in time, and I would never want to do that to another driver.”

I let my words settle before continuing, my voice steady. “You can ask anyone else who passed me during that stint—I was as far out of the way as I could be without putting the car in the grass. So if Jack thinks I had more room to move over safely, maybe he should start petitioning for wider tracks.”

The interviewer, clearly taken aback, nodded and thanked me for my time. I gave a polite nod before walking away, finally finished with media duties for the day.

As soon as I was out of sight, I let out a slow breath, shaking off the tension that had built up in my shoulders. It had been a long, frustrating day, but at least now, I could head back to the hotel and regroup before tomorrow.

—

FP3 had gone smoothly, a much-needed turnaround after yesterday’s chaos. I laid down solid lap times, and, for once, Jack wasn’t driving like he had a personal vendetta against me. I could only assume his team had given him a firm talking-to—after all, taking a three-place grid drop for his reckless move in FP1 wasn’t something they’d let slide. Either way, I was content to leave the incident in the past and focus on the weekend ahead.

With my confidence in the car restored, I headed into qualifying feeling optimistic. Franco and I had a bet going—whoever qualified lower had to buy dinner and host movie night. It was our usual back-and-forth competition, something to keep things light before the intensity of race day.

Q1 was a breeze for both of us, and while Franco had a bit of a fight to make it through Q2, we both lined up for the final session, ready to push. In the end, I secured P8, with Franco just ahead in P7. That meant dinner was on me, and my hotel room was the designated movie night spot. Typical.

After wrapping up media duties and a quick debrief with the team, I finally made it back to my hotel room, kicking off my shoes with a sigh. I sent Franco a quick text letting him know the door would be open when he got there, then flopped onto the bed, stretching out for a moment of quiet before he arrived.

Just as I was about to scroll through the dinner options, my phone buzzed. An incoming call.

I frowned, sitting up as I glanced at the name on the screen.

Something about it made my stomach twist only for it to drop when I saw the name. JACK

The moment I saw Jack’s name on my phone screen, I knew answering would be a mistake. But against my better judgment, I swiped to accept the call, bringing the phone to my ear with a sigh.

Before I could even get a word out, his voice exploded through the speaker.

"Can you believe that idiot Ghost?" he spat, his anger practically crackling through the line. "Thinks he’s better than me? Acts like some saint when really they’re just a coward hiding behind a helmet! And now I get a three-place grid drop because of them? Unbelievable! Like, maybe if they actually knew how to drive, I wouldn't have had to force my way past! But no, of course, it’s my fault—because Ghost is some kind of untouchable mystery driver who everyone just loves to defend!"

I stayed silent, my grip tightening on the phone as his rant continued. He didn’t even pause, too caught up in his own fury to notice that I hadn’t said a single word.

"You’d think the FIA would actually do their jobs for once, but no. Instead, I get the penalty. Ghost gets to play the victim. It’s so goddamn rigged! And you know what’s worse? I bet they don’t even care! Probably just sitting in their fancy hotel room, celebrating like they’re some kind of hero—”

My jaw clenched. My fingers curled so tightly around the phone I thought it might snap in half. He just kept going.

Jack, my brother, was raging about me. Trashing me. Humiliating me without even realizing I was the one on the other end of the line.

And the worst part? He thought I was his ally in all of this.

I bit my tongue, forcing myself to stay quiet, but my patience was razor-thin. Each passing second only fanned the flames of my fury.

Then, as if finally sensing the shift, he hesitated. The ranting stopped.

"...Why are you so quiet?" His voice was softer now, cautious before sighing. "Are you still upset about two weeks ago? I thought we were siblings. Siblings don’t hold grudges."

That was it. That was my breaking point.

I exhaled sharply, my voice like ice. "Maybe one day, you’ll look in a fucking mirror and realize how stupid you are."

Silence. A stunned pause on his end.

Then, before he could say another word, I hung up.

I stared at my phone for a long moment before opening his contact and hitting mute.

No more. Not tonight. Not ever if I had it my way.

—-

The paddock buzzed with energy, the excited chatter of fans blending with the occasional roar of an engine being fired up in the distance. I waved at the crowds as our parade trailer slowly rolled along the track, the air electric with anticipation for race day.

"Hey, Ghost, wanted to chat with you for a moment."

I turned from the waving fans to find a familiar set of piercing blue eyes watching me with quiet concern. Max Verstappen leaned casually against the railing of the trailer, his expression softer than usual.

"Hey, Max," I greeted, my voice slightly muffled through my helmet. "What's up?"

He smirked, but there was a weight behind it, something more serious lingering in his gaze. "Well, I just thought I’d check in," he said, shifting to fully face me. "Seeing as a certain someone has been attacking your character to the press. Normally, I’d say you can handle it, but given that this person is… close to your heart, I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Or if you need some advice."

I stiffened slightly but exhaled, forcing my shoulders to relax. "Appreciate it, but I’m fine," I replied, though I wasn't even sure if I fully believed that.

Max gave me a look—one that made it clear he wasn’t buying my deflection for a second. "Ghost," he said, voice firm but kind, "I know what it's like to have people twist the truth about you. I also know that when it's someone you care about doing it, it hits differently."

I stayed quiet, gripping the railing tighter as I watched the crowd. The fans had no idea that under my baggy hoodie and helmet, I was barely holding my frustration together.

"Look, I had my fair share of bad press, people calling me aggressive, reckless, a bad teammate—" he paused, smirking slightly, "—which, okay, sometimes I was."

I let out a short laugh despite myself.

"But when people you trust go out of their way to turn others against you? That’s a different kind of pain," he continued, voice quieter now. "You have to remind yourself of who you are, not who they’re trying to make you out to be."

I clenched my jaw. "And what if they don’t stop?"

Max shrugged. "Then you prove them wrong. Not by explaining yourself to them—people like that don’t listen. You prove them wrong by continuing to be who you are and letting your results speak for themselves. You’re here because you earned it. Don’t let someone else's bitterness make you forget that."

I swallowed hard, Max’s words sinking in deeper than I expected.

Before I could respond, another voice chimed in.

"Max giving wisdom? That’s new," Charles teased, leaning onto the trailer railing beside us, his usual easygoing grin in place.

Max rolled his eyes. "I can be wise when necessary."

Charles chuckled but turned to me with the same concern Max had. "Ghost, I was going to come find you after this. Have you seen what Jack has been saying?"

I nodded stiffly. "Yeah. I’ve seen it."

Charles sighed, shaking his head. "It’s one thing when the media twists things, but when it’s family…" His expression darkened for a moment, as if recalling something from his past. "That’s a wound that doesn’t heal so easily."

I looked between them, both championship-winning drivers who had dealt with pressure, scrutiny, and the weight of expectations. "So what do I do? Just ignore it?"

Charles hummed in thought. "Sometimes, yes. Not every battle is worth fighting, especially when the other person only wants to provoke you. But…" He gave me a knowing look. "I also know you, Ghost. You want to say something. Which you did yesterday, but I am sure you want to say a lot more than just that."

I crossed my arms, exhaling through my nose. "I do. But I don’t want to make it worse. I just… I want to make it stop."

Max nudged my shoulder lightly. "Then make sure that when you do speak, it’s on your terms. Don’t react in anger. Take your time, think it through, and when you do respond—make sure it’s something you won’t regret later."

Charles nodded in agreement. "And don’t forget, you have people who will stand by you no matter what. You’re not alone in this, even if it feels like it in the moment.”

I let their words settle, the weight on my chest feeling just a little lighter. They were right. The best thing I could do was stay true to myself and let my driving do the talking. But if Jack thought I was going to just roll over and let him tarnish my name without consequence, he had another thing coming.

—

The race had been a brutal test of endurance, but I had thrived in it, clawing my way up from P8 to P6. Every lap had been a battle, and I had relished it. Racing Franco for P5 had been exhilarating—a test of skill, trust, and sheer determination. We had fought hard, pushing each other to the limits, but never crossing that dangerous line. It was a dance we had perfected over the years—close, competitive, and always respectful. I had giggled at one point, the thrill of our fight lighting a fire in me. This was what racing was meant to be.

But now, that moment felt like a lifetime ago.

I had finally broken through, leaving Franco behind, and my next target had been Pierre in P4. It wasn’t often I got to fight with him this high up the grid, and I had been determined to make it count. Lap after lap, I studied his lines, looking for an opening. I found it—a tiny window of opportunity he left open at the same corner each time.

So, I went for it.

The overtake was clean, precise. For a fleeting second, I was ahead, the rush of success surging through me. But Pierre wasn’t ready to give up. He fought back, pushing for the racing line, and that’s when everything went wrong.

A flash of movement.

His rear right tire clipped my front left.

Then—impact.

A sickening pop, followed by a deep, gut-wrenching crunch.

The world twisted violently. My stomach dropped as the front of my car lifted. For a split second, I thought I could save it, but then—

The wind caught me.

I was airborne.

The first flip knocked the air from my lungs, my body slamming against the seat as the car pitched sideways. Sky. Track. Sky. Track. The violent rotations blurred my vision as my body smashed against the cockpit walls. The sounds were deafening—metal shrieking, carbon fiber shattering, the deep thuds of impact every time the car hit the ground.

I lost count of how many times I flipped.

Then, the final slam.

The car landed hard on its back, skidding across the track before it slammed into the barrier with a force that rattled my bones. Pain exploded across my chest where the harness had dug in, my body jerked forward and then snapped back into the seat. My head bounced off the padding, my vision swimming. I hung from the seatbelt like meat being processed in a butcher shop.

Then—

BOOM.

The explosion rattled through my entire body. The car shuddered as flames erupted from the rear.

Heat.

Sudden. Overwhelming.

The cockpit was hot—scalding, suffocating. The smell of burning fuel filled my lungs, thick and choking. A deep, primal terror gripped me.

I had to get out.

My hands fumbled with the seatbelts, my fingers shaking uncontrollably. I yanked at the latch—one side came undone immediately. Relief. But the second—

Stuck.

I pulled again. Nothing.

Panic surged through me, my heart slamming against my ribs. Smoke curled into the cockpit, searing my throat, making my eyes water. My exits were vanishing. The fire spread fast, licking at the sides of the car, hungrily devouring everything in its path.

No. No. No.

I pulled harder, desperation making my movements frantic. The flames were right there, creeping over the halo, licking at the bodywork. The car was turning into a furnace, the heat pressing against me, making my suit stick to my sweating skin.

Move. MOVE.

I screamed as I pulled one last time—

POP.

A white-hot pain tore through my shoulder as something gave. I didn’t have time to process it. I tumbled forward, crashing awkwardly into the side of the cockpit.

No time to think. No time to feel.

I twisted my legs out from under the halo, flipping onto my stomach, dragging myself toward the jagged opening in the barrier. Every movement sent agony shooting through my body, but I couldn’t stop. I refused to stop.

Then—pain.

A sharp, searing sting tore through my collarbone as the fabric of my suit snagged on the metal. I gasped, feeling the warm trickle of blood soaking into the material.

Then—another explosion.

The fire surged forward, wrapping around the car like a beast hunting its prey. Heat clawed at my back, almost burning through my suit.

And then—white.

A cloud of fire extinguisher foam engulfed me, cool relief against the unbearable heat. Hands grabbed at me, pulling me away from the wreckage, urgent voices shouting orders I couldn’t process.

I was out.

The moment my body collapsed onto the ground, my limbs refused to move. Every nerve in my body screamed. I sucked in greedy gasps of air, my lungs burning, my heart slamming in my chest like a war drum.

A voice—calm, steady—cut through the chaos.

“Ghost, listen to me. I know you need to keep your identity hidden, so don’t worry. Your team made sure all medical staff under contract signed an NDA for you.”

I barely nodded, my mind still trapped in the fire, the flips, the terror.

I had made it out.

The next few minutes blurred together in a haze of exhaustion and pain, my body caught in the slow, agonizing descent from the high of racing adrenaline into something I would later call borderline pure agony. The fire, the crash, the desperate scramble to escape—it had all been chaos, and now my body was beginning to process just how much damage had been done. Every nerve felt raw, every breath was a struggle against the tightness in my chest.

The medical team worked quickly, their voices sharp and urgent as they carried me through the paddock toward the medical room. The bright fluorescent lights above me blurred and streaked, my head pounding with each bounce of the stretcher. The once-distant ache was now creeping up, turning into sharp, searing pain in places I hadn’t even realized were injured.

As they rolled me into the sterile white room, my gaze flickered toward the doorway, where I caught sight of two familiar figures—Nico and Diego. Their faces were twisted in worry, their brows furrowed, their jaws tight. They stood firm, blocking the entrance, as if shielding me from whatever outside world lay beyond this moment. My stomach twisted. I hated that look—the mixture of helplessness and fear in their eyes. I wanted to tell them I was fine, that I’d survived worse. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure if this wasn’t worse.

The gurney came to an abrupt stop, and suddenly, the room exploded into movement. Medics swarmed around me, hands pressing, prodding, assessing. The air smelled like antiseptic and burnt fabric. I barely had time to process any of it before a voice cut through the noise.

“Shit, there's a lot of blood.”

The words sent a fresh wave of panic through me.

“Okay, the suit has to come off, Y/N. We’re cutting the top for now,” a female medic informed me, her voice steady but urgent.

I barely had the strength to respond. A half-formed groan of acknowledgment left my lips, and within seconds, I heard the distinct snip, snip, snip of scissors slicing through my race suit. The fabric peeled away from my skin, and a sharp chill rushed over me. The cold was jarring, but it was nothing compared to what happened next.

The medic closest to me stiffened.

Her expression, previously neutral and professional, faltered. A flicker of something—shock, concern—passed over her features before she quickly masked it, returning to her clinical demeanor. But I saw it. I saw it.

Panic clawed at my ribs.

“What—what is it?” My voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pressed a thick towel to my shoulder, right where the fabric had been sticking to my skin.

Pain—searing, white-hot, like fire ripping through my collarbone. I sucked in a sharp breath, my back arching involuntarily as the wound protested violently.

Then, another sound—pop.

Agony.

A scream tore from my throat before I even understood what had happened.

The pain was unlike anything I had felt before, radiating outward, setting every nerve ending alight. My vision swam, black spots dancing at the edges as I struggled to stay present. The sickening realization hit me a second later—someone had just popped my shoulder back into place without warning.

I gasped, choking on the pain, my body trembling as the intensity of it all became too much.

Everything around me started to fade.

The room became distant, the voices blending into a low hum. The fluorescent lights above blurred further, melting into streaks of white nothingness. The pain was unbearable, suffocating, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake. My body felt disconnected, floating somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. I was slipping, sinking into the haze, letting it pull me under where the pain couldn’t reach.

But then—

A touch.

Soft. Steady. Grounding.

Fingers curled around my own, warm and gentle amidst the chaos.

My mind fought against the fog, instincts taking over as my fingers twitched, responding to the quiet comfort being offered.

Slowly, as if emerging from deep water, I forced my eyes open, my vision swimming before it sharpened—

Chocolate brown eyes.

Familiar. Safe.

Framed by soft, unruly curls.

I blinked, trying to focus, to cling to the one thing in this moment that wasn’t pain or fear or agony.

Next to me stood a worry-riddled Kimi, his thumb rubbing over the back of my knuckles as his other hand came up fully cup mine. His grip was steady—warm, grounding—but I could still feel the faintest tremble in his fingers. He only glanced at the rest of me once, his eyes flickering down my body before settling back on my face. Nothing in his expression changed, but I could see it in his eyes—the weight of everything he had seen, the helplessness, the fear.

That was when I started to notice the differences since I had slipped into that daze.

I wasn’t lying down anymore—I was propped up on the cot, a dull ache radiating from every inch of me. The medics were gone. In their place stood a silent wall of figures, their presence heavy with the kind of emotion that lingered in the air long after words had been spoken. Max, Ollie, Charles, Oscar, Lando, Franco. Each of them stood like an unbreakable barrier, shielding me from something unseen, something I had already endured but they still hadn’t let go of.

Their faces told me everything before they even spoke.

I dropped my gaze to my own body, suddenly understanding why they were looking at me like that. My race suit was gone. In its place, I wore a pair of soft shorts, my upper body wrapped tightly in elastic bandages. Gauze was pressed to my collarbone on one side white the bandages held my shoulder in place on the other, a stark reminder of what had happened. Small cuts littered my skin, angry red patches of burn-kissed skin peeking out beneath layers of bandages and burn cream. My legs were bruised in shades of deep purple and sickly yellow, the worst of them disappearing beneath the thick wrapping on my ribs.

I swallowed hard.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Lando broke the silence first, his voice unusually quiet, unusually small. He rubbed a hand over his face, the usual playfulness in his eyes replaced with something much heavier. “I—I saw the fire in my mirrors, but I didn’t know it was you until I came back around. I just saw…” His voice cracked for a moment before he forced himself to keep going. “I saw what was left of your car. I thought—” He stopped himself, shaking his head as if physically trying to rid himself of the thought.

Oscar, standing just beside him, nodded slowly, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was holding himself together. “Same here,” he admitted, his voice laced with guilt. “I saw the flames, and when I came back around, I saw them pulling someone out… I didn’t know if you’d made it.”

Max let out a slow, shaky breath. He wasn’t looking at me, his hands braced against his knees as he leaned forward. “I didn’t see you until I passed the wreckage,” he muttered. “I just saw—” His fingers clenched into fists. “Pieces. Pieces of your car. Then the red flag, and the radio silence.” He exhaled sharply, his usual confidence replaced with something raw. “I’ve never hated a race more than I did in that moment.”

I felt my chest tighten.

Then, Franco’s voice cut through the thick silence, soft but weighted with something deeper. “I saw all of it.”

I turned to look at him. His usual easy going demeanor was gone, replaced with something haunted.

“I was right behind you,” he continued, voice flat, distant. “I saw the car flip violently, saw you hit the barrier, saw the moment you stopped moving.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I thought—” He stopped, shaking his head. “No. I knew we were about to lose you.”

Kimi’s grip on my hand tightened slightly.

“I was behind too,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I saw it happen. All of it.” His jaw was clenched so tightly I thought it might break. “And I couldn’t do anything.”

I squeezed his hand, suddenly aware of just how much this had affected them, too. It wasn’t just my trauma. It was ours.

Ollie hadn’t spoken yet.

When I looked at him, his arms were wrapped tightly around himself, his eyes glassy but unreadable.

“I came up just as it exploded the first time,” he admitted, his voice thick. “I didn’t even think. I just—” He exhaled shakily. “I just needed to know if you were still alive. No one knew anything quick enough.”

My throat tightened.

He scrubbed a hand over his face before looking at me again. “You scared the shit out of me, Y/N.” His voice broke slightly on my name. “We all thought—” He stopped himself, taking a deep breath. “I don’t even want to say it.”

I looked at each of them, their faces still clouded with worry, fear, relief.

I had barely come to terms with my own pain, and yet they had been carrying their own version of it, watching from afar, unable to do anything but hope I would make it out alive.

The worst part?

I almost didn’t.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I’m here,” I whispered, my voice hoarse but steady. “I made it.”

Kimi squeezed my hand. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice quieter than before. “But you almost didn’t.”

I didn’t know what to say because nothing could make this any better for any of us.

Suddenly, the room erupted in chaos.

Shouting rang out from the hallway, sharp and venomous, cutting through the tense silence like a blade. The boys around me tensed, their bodies shifting instinctively to block me as the door burst open with a loud slam.

“Where the hell is he?” Jack’s voice was dripping with rage, laced with a venom that sent a shiver down my spine. “His stupid fucking move got Pierre disqualified, and I just have a few words to say to that asshole.”

I couldn’t see him past the wall of bodies in front of me, but I didn’t need to. I could picture him perfectly. Stiff posture, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles must have been white, shoulders squared as he scowled into the room like a predator ready to pounce. His teeth were probably bared in frustration, his nostrils flaring like an angered wolfdog locked onto its prey.

Max and Lando were the first to move. The second they stepped out of the wall, the rest of the boys quickly filled the gap, reinforcing the barrier between me and Jack.

“No, mate. You better get the hell out of here right now,” Max’s voice was low, edged with a quiet fury that sent a chill through the room. “This is not the time for you to spout this bullshit.”

Jack scoffed, taking a step forward. “Bullshit? Oh, I’m sorry, is it bullshit to want to call out the fucking idiot who just ruined another driver’s entire weekend? Is that bullshit to you, Verstappen?”

“Not here, Jack.” Lando’s voice was sharp, his usual easygoing nature nowhere to be found. “Not now.”

Jack let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, not now? When then, huh? When he’s got another DNF on his record? When he’s wrecked another car? Maybe when he’s gotten someone else sent to the hospital?” His voice dripped with accusation. “Or would you rather I just pretend none of this happened? Like all of you are doing?”

Max took a dangerous step forward, his jaw clenched so tightly I swore I heard his teeth grind together. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t I?” Jack shot back, his voice rising in frustration. “I saw what happened. He didn’t give Pierre any fucking space. He—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lando snapped, shoving Jack back a step. “You weren’t in the car. You weren’t in the fight. You don’t know shit.”

Jack shoved him right back, his face twisting with rage. “And you’re just gonna defend him? You’re just gonna pretend like this wasn’t his fault?”

The shouting escalated, voices overlapping in a heated, messy blur. Jack wasn’t backing down, and neither were Max or Lando. Every argument, every shove, every sharp glare only added to the suffocating tension building in the room.

And I had had enough.

I took a deep breath and carefully moved my legs over the side of the cot. The second I tried to shift my weight, a sharp, searing pain shot through my ribs, my shoulder screaming in protest. I let out a quiet groan, my face twisting as I fought to steady myself.

Ollie and Kimi immediately turned to me, their eyes filled with worry.

“No, you shouldn’t move,” Ollie whispered urgently, stepping closer like he was ready to push me back down.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my expression calm but unwavering. “I need to speak to him.”

His brows furrowed, his lips parting in protest, but I spoke again before he could argue.

“I need to stand my ground,” I said firmly. “Just let me say my piece. Then I’ll come back to the bed. I promise. I can do this.”

Kimi and Ollie exchanged a worried glance, silent words passing between them in the brief moment before they reluctantly nodded. They stepped aside just enough to let me move, though I could still feel their hands hovering close, ready to catch me if I faltered.

My body screamed in protest as I forced myself to my feet. The world tilted slightly, my vision blurring at the edges, but I clenched my jaw and fought through it. Pain flared like fire beneath my skin, radiating through my ribs, my collarbone, my legs—but I stood. I held my ground.

Slowly, I took one agonizing step forward, then another, until I reached the backs of Oscar, Franco, and Charles. They were still blocking me from view, still shielding me, but I was there. Close enough.

The argument continued, Jack’s voice still filled with venom, Max and Lando still fighting to shove him out.

Enough.

I inhaled sharply.

Then, with every ounce of strength I had left, I yelled.

“JACK. SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Silence.

The room went still, the tension shifting in an instant. Jack froze mid-argument, his mouth half-open as he turned toward the sound of my voice.

Slowly, the boys in front of me stepped aside.

And there I stood.

Injured, aching, barely staying upright—but standing. My entire body screamed in pain, my muscles trembling under the weight of my own stubbornness, but none of it mattered.

Because the moment Jack’s eyes landed on me, the fury in his expression shattered into something else entirely.

Shock.

Guilt.

Horror.

And beneath all of that?

The realization that he had just been screaming about the barely standing wreck of the person who had survived the worst crash of the season. That same person being his little sister.

And I was pissed.

"This is between us, Jack. Not them. Us.” My voice was sharp, unwavering, carrying the weight of years of unspoken words. “So you don’t get to yell at them. You can yell at me. You can do whatever the hell you need to do. But before you start—” I took a slow, steady step forward, my muscles screaming in protest, “—give me a damn minute to say my own piece.”

I stared him down, eyes locked onto his like a challenge, daring him to interrupt me.

Jack, for once, was silent.

He was still frozen in place, his face contorted in frustration and disbelief, but his lips were slightly parted, his brain scrambling to process the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Then, like something inside him snapped back into place, he shook his head and scoffed. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice wasn’t as sharp as before, but the venom was still there, barely masked beneath his confusion. “Why are you a racer? Is this why Mom and Dad are so pissed off lately? Did you piss them off again?”

His words were like a match to gasoline.

Rage flared inside me, burning white-hot as my fingers curled into tight fists at my sides. Again. He said it like I was some unruly child constantly causing trouble, like I chose to be a disappointment, like it was my fault our parents’ anger always found a target in me.

“It must be real nice to stand here and judge me.” My voice was lower now, seething, dripping with all the fury I had swallowed down for years. “To yell at me for this. Because god knows I’d never get the same opportunity.”

I took another step forward, forcing myself to push through the pain. My finger jabbed into his chest, punctuating every word.

“I have spent eighteen goddamn years as the family pawn. And the reject when I wasn’t playing the perfect little future bride.” My lip curled, my voice shaking—not with weakness, but with the sheer force of the rage threatening to boil over. “You wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you? Because you were born with everything you wanted at arm’s reach. Silver Spoon on a sparkling silver plate.”

Jack’s breath hitched. His eyes flickered—hesitation, confusion, something cracking behind the shield of anger he had thrown up.

But he doubled down. Because he had to.

“How could you keep this from me?” His voice was tight now, anger still fueling his words, but there was something else—something desperate. “I thought we were siblings.” His fists clenched, his body tense like he was trying to hold himself together. “Siblings don’t keep secrets like this from each other!”

A bitter laugh ripped from my throat.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” I spat. “You know what else siblings don’t do? They don’t sit there cracking jokes while their parents so obviously strip away their choices in life.”

His mouth opened, like he wanted to argue, but I wasn’t done.

“Remember that night I left?” My voice was colder now, sharp enough to cut through whatever weak excuses he was scrambling for. “Remember when I took all my keepsakes with me? After the last date?”

Jack’s entire body went rigid. I could see the realization setting in, the pieces finally connecting in his head.

“Well, that night—” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to push through it, to make him hear it. “That disgusting man assaulted me.”

Jack flinched.

“And I did not trust your ass enough to talk about it.” I took a shaky breath, my chest aching in more ways than one. “The boys behind me? They were the only reason I even survived after everything all three of those suitors put me through.”

Jack was frozen.

His breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling in shaky bursts as he processed what I had just said. I could see his anger faltering now, something breaking beneath it.

Guilt.

Regret.

A horrible, dawning realization that maybe—just maybe—he had been on the wrong side of this fight for far longer than he wanted to admit.

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head as I took a slow step back, putting distance between us. My eyes raked over him—the sweat-covered fireproofs, the race suit tied around his hips, the fact that he had come straight here from his car.

He had been so desperate to argue, so blinded by his own rage, that he hadn’t even stopped to think. He had come here expecting a fight.

Fine.

That’s what I’d give him.

“I miss the little sister from before all of this,” Jack murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, like the words might shatter if spoken too loudly. “Where did she go? The same sister who told me everything—even if it added nothing to the story.” His anger, which had burned so fiercely just moments ago, was fading rapidly, slipping through his fingers like sand.

I scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter. The bottled rage inside me, the fury I had buried under years of being unheard, was spilling over like a dam finally breaking.

“Well, Jack, the only thing you miss is someone else’s storyline.” My voice was laced with venom, my breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. “Because ninety percent of the time, I was just acting—playing the role Mom and Dad expected of me. The good girl. The perfect future bride. The obedient daughter.” I shook my head, laughing bitterly. “I bet you don’t even know the real me anymore.”

Jack inhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line, but I didn’t let him speak.

“You want to know what I did learn growing up?” My voice trembled, but not with weakness—with the sheer weight of what I was about to say. “No, scratch that. You want to know what was engraved into my goddamn soul?”

I took a step forward, close enough for him to see the storm raging behind my eyes.

“I will never be good enough for our parents.” The words burned like acid on my tongue, but I forced them out. “And maybe—just maybe—I was never good enough for you either.”

Jack flinched, and for a split second, I saw it. The crack in his armor. The flicker of pain he wasn’t quick enough to hide.

“Every inch of me wants to hate you for that,” I admitted, my voice shaking. “Every. Fucking. Inch. And that’s a problem, because if I hate you—really hate you—then I’ll have no one left. No one from my own blood to call family.”

His lips parted, his breath catching like he wanted to say something, anything, but no words came.

I exhaled sharply, my shoulders rising and falling as the fire inside me flickered, wavered, then steadied.

“But you know what?” My tone shifted, the rage melting into something steadier—stronger. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Because now, thanks to these guys—” I gestured toward the boys behind me, my chosen family, my real family, “—I don’t care if I’m enough for you, or Mick, or Selina.” I straightened my spine, the weight of my past lifting off my shoulders, even if just a little.

“Because I am enough for them.” My voice didn’t shake this time as I pointed to them. It was firm. Certain. True.

“And more importantly…” I took a slow, steady breath, the words feeling like a victory as they left my lips.

“I am enough for me.”

Jack stared at me, his entire body tense, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his jaw tightening like he was forcing himself to keep quiet because if he spoke, he might say something he couldn’t take back.

I held his gaze for a moment longer before I added, softer this time, “I want you to be my family, Jack. I want you to open your goddamn eyes and choose to be my family. But if you don’t?” I shrugged. “Then I’ll be okay.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating, the weight of everything we had said—and everything we hadn’t—hanging in the air.

And then—

A sharp, stabbing pain ripped through me, like a thousand knives sinking into my body all at once.

My vision blurring as the adrenaline that had been keeping me upright vanished in an instant. The weight of my injuries crashed into me like a freight train, stealing the air from my lungs, choking me with its unbearable grip.

My knees buckled.

“Shit—” I barely registered the movement beside me before a strong arm shot out, catching me before I hit the ground.

Lando.

He was the closest. The fastest.

I turned my head toward him, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His face was a blur of worry and panic, his grip tightening around me as my body swayed.

I tried to speak, but my throat felt tight, my voice barely a whisper.

“Help, Lan—”

Before I could finish, the world tilted.

My body went limp, all strength draining from me in an instant.

Lando reacted fast, his arms locking around me, scooping me up into a bride’s carry before I could hit the floor.

I could hear the voices around me—worried, frantic, desperate—but they sounded distant, like I was hearing them from beneath deep water.

The shouting blurred together, overlapping in a mess of indistinguishable words.

Jack’s voice—Lando’s—others I couldn’t make out.

Bodies moved around me in a frenzy, panic thick in the air.

Then, through the haze, one word cut through the noise.

“Hospital.”

And then—

Blackness.

—

When I came to, I was lying in a hospital bed, the soft beeping of a monitor filling the otherwise quiet room. My body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and the dull ache of my injuries. I was still in the same clothes, though my bandages had been changed. Notably, the wrap around my chest had been replaced with one of my sports bras—revealing just how bad the damage truly was.

A long, angry line of red and stitches stretched from a few inches below my right collarbone up to the side of my neck, stopping just before the middle. My left shoulder had been immobilized in a sling, secured with a specialized attachment to ensure it healed correctly. Even though I had already felt the pain, seeing the extent of my injuries made them real in a way they hadn’t been before.

Shifting slightly, I scanned the room, my eyes landing on Nico, who was sprawled across a couple of chairs, dozing. Next to him sat a familiar duffel bag—mine—most likely filled with a change of clothes.

I carefully tried to sit up, only to hit a deep bruise on my ribs. A sharp, involuntary groan escaped me, loud enough to startle Nico awake.

He rubbed his face groggily before blinking himself back into full consciousness. As soon as his gaze landed on me, his expression shifted from drowsy to pure panic.

“Woah, woah, woah—Speedy, what the hell are you doing?” He shot up from his seat, rushing over before I could even think about swinging my legs off the bed.

I reached out and grabbed his arms, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes locked onto mine, still filled to the brim with worry.

“I know that was probably scary,” I admitted softly. “And I’m not going to tell you not to worry. But right now, I really just want to get back into my clothes and—if possible—get discharged.”

I kept my tone calm, but there was a quiet desperation beneath it. I needed to get out of here. I needed normalcy.

Nico exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before sighing in reluctant defeat. “Fine.” He grabbed my bag, handing it over before stepping back to give me space.

I managed to pull on a pair of sweatpants over my shorts and slipped into an oversized sweatshirt, though I could only get one arm through the sleeve. The sling on my left side made it impossible to move my shoulder enough to fit the other through.

Before I could even contemplate figuring it out myself, a soft knock at the door announced the arrival of a nurse.

“Here, sweetheart,” she said kindly as she stepped inside. “Let me help you get that last arm in so it’s not so uncomfortable.”

She worked carefully, undoing the sling and guiding my arm with practiced gentleness, making sure not to cause unnecessary pain. As she re-situated the support brace, she began explaining my recovery plan.

I listened half-heartedly at first, already knowing the basics—rest, pain management, taking it easy. But then she got to the part I had been dreading.

“So, you won’t be able to race for the next four weeks,” she said, giving me a sympathetic look. “That will give the fracture in your forearm time to heal, while also making sure we don’t aggravate your shoulder injury or risk tearing that nasty cut near your neck any further.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, the weight of her words settling uncomfortably in my chest.

“You’re lucky,” she continued, her voice a little softer. “That shoulder injury and the cut were just centimeters away from being much worse—either ending your season or… well, ending you.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s a miracle, really.”

I forced a tight-lipped smile, unsure how to respond to that.

She pulled a small cart closer, stocked with an assortment of bags, medication bottles, and creams.

“For the next two weeks, I need you to really take it easy—no pushing limits, no testing your pain tolerance.” She gave me a knowing look. “After that, you can slowly start incorporating light training, but only if you follow up with a doctor once a week to monitor your shoulder’s progress.”

I nodded again, absorbing the information, though my mind was already racing ahead to how I could shorten the timeline.

Satisfied, she handed Nico a small package containing my medications and care supplies before giving me one final once-over. “Follow those guidelines, and you should be back behind the wheel soon enough.”

With that, she left, and Nico wasted no time helping me into a wheelchair.

As he pushed me toward the back exit of the hospital—away from prying eyes, cameras, and the inevitable media frenzy—I let my head rest against the seat, exhaustion settling in once more.

Four weeks.

I hated the thought.

But I was still here at least, still fighting.

“Well, I guess you’re lucky in one more way,” Nico muttered as he practically carried me to move me into the passenger seat. His grip was firm but careful, mindful of my injuries as he eased me into the car. “Good thing it’s the start of summer break. You’ll only miss one race—assuming your recovery actually is four weeks, like she said.”

He buckled me in before jogging around to the driver’s side. As we pulled away from the hospital, I finally checked the time. It had only been about 45 minutes since I was in the medical room back at the paddock. That meant the race was either close to restarting or had just begun.

I turned to Nico, already knowing I was about to push my luck.

“I know you’re not gonna like what I’m about to ask—”

“So don’t ask,” Nico cut me off instantly, his response quick and practiced, like he knew what was coming.

I pouted, making my eyes just a little sadder, just a little more pleading. He glanced at me during a red light, and I watched his resolve crack. With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his temples.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “What is it?”

A victorious smile tugged at my lips, but I kept my voice soft. “I really want to go back to the paddock and support Franco. Just to watch. I promise I’ll follow any rules you want—any—as long as I can be there.”

Nico groaned like I had just asked him to commit a crime. He was silent for a moment, then exhaled through his nose before taking the next turn—away from the hotel.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded.

I barely had time to cheer before he held up a finger.

“BUT—you have to stay in the wheelchair and next to me at all times. The second I see you pushing yourself too hard, I get full authority to pull you out of there and take you straight back to the hotel. No arguments.”

I nodded rapidly, raising my hand like I was swearing an oath. “I promise. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.”

“Jesus, okay—no need for dramatics, that is not the image I needed after the events of today.” he muttered, shaking his head as he merged onto the main road leading back to the circuit.

As we neared the paddock, he reached into the backseat and pulled out a familiar helmet. Well, almost familiar.

It was one of my backup helmets, repainted in the official Cadillac Racing colors. A deep, glossy black with electric blue and white accents, matching the team’s livery. Unlike my usual helmet, which had personalized flourishes, this one was purposefully simple—a disguise, meant for situations where I needed to be more anonymous in the paddock. Though I am sure being the only person constantly wearing a helmet wont change the amount that crowd me just by changing a helmet design.

I took it from him, running my fingers over the sleek surface.

“You’ll want this,” Nico said, watching me carefully. “It’s got your voice changer, so you’ll still sound like what they expect.”

A small smile formed on my lips as I turned the helmet over in my hands. It wasn’t my usual one, but it still felt right.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

Nico just sighed again, clearly resigning himself to whatever chaos was about to unfold.

With my helmet secured, we drove past the main entrance, heading toward the private back entrance meant for teams and VIPs. The paddock was just ahead.

—

I had successfully been rolled all the way into the garage without any media swarming me. Still, I had been noticed. The first TV screen I spotted, displaying the live broadcast, suddenly cut to a shot of me sitting in the wheelchair.

I smirked, easily finding the nearest camera and giving a little wave with my free arm.

Behind me, Nico leaned on the handles of the chair, his sharp eyes scanning the area like a lifeguard on duty. He was assessing, calculating—clearly trying to figure out the best way to keep me out of the growing crowd of cameras and curious onlookers.

He let out a low sigh. “Diego,” he called, motioning to one of the engineers. “Keep an eye on them. I need to figure something out.”

Diego nodded, stepping in as Nico disappeared into the mass of people.

While I waited, several mechanics and team members took turns coming over to check on me.

“You scared the hell out of us, you know that?” one of them said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, well,” I shrugged, “I do like to keep you all on your toes.”

A few chuckled, shaking their heads, but there was a real warmth in the way they spoke to me. Even though we rarely talked outside the paddock, their concern felt genuine. It was sweet.

That moment of peace didn’t last long. Nico returned, gripping the wheelchair handles with renewed determination.

“You’re gonna sit with Nicolas on the pit wall,” he announced, already steering me toward the garage exit. “You can help provide feedback on how the car felt this weekend so he can adjust Franco’s strategy accordingly.”

I blinked up at him, then grinned. Honestly? This was probably the best outcome I could’ve hoped for.

The pit wall meant limited access for reporters—no microphones shoved in my face, no overwhelming crowds. Just a few cameras every now and then, but nothing compared to being in the garage.

With a quick wave from one of the officials, Nico began speed-walking me across the pit lane. He was all business, keeping his focus on getting me across safely, while I just enjoyed the brief moment of fresh air and the rumble of engines.

We made it to the pit wall without any trouble. An official held onto my wheelchair while Nico scooped me up and placed me into the open seat next to Nicolas. The strategist gave me a small smile as I got settled.

“Good to have you here,” Nicolas said, adjusting his headset.

“Good to be here,” I replied.

Nico made sure my chair was secured against the barrier before stepping back. With everything in place, I turned my attention to the screens in front of me.

The race was fully underway, and Franco was holding a solid position, but I could already see where he might struggle. I leaned toward Nicolas, watching the sector times flash on the monitor.

“He’s losing time in Sector 2,” I murmured, analyzing the data. “Looks like he’s being a little too cautious on entry into Turn 9. He’s losing momentum going into the straight.”

Nicolas nodded, relaying the information through his headset. A few seconds later, Franco adjusted his line.

“Better,” I said. “But tell him to trust the rear more—there’s more grip than he thinks, and he can afford to carry more speed.”

Again, Nicolas repeated my advice, and once more, Franco adjusted.

I grinned as his sector times improved.

For the next few laps, this routine continued. I’d analyze, Nicolas would relay, Franco would execute. It was working—his lap times were consistently dropping.

Then, during a lull in the radio communications, Nicolas suddenly reached down and unplugged his mic. Before I could ask what he was doing, he took the cable and connected it to the jack at the bottom of my helmet.

I blinked at him in surprise.

The mic jack was technically there for media purposes, so recordings could be easily captured for team content. But this? This was definitely an alternative use.

“Go ahead,” Nicolas murmured with a small smirk.

I hesitated for a second, then took a deep breath.

“Franco?” I said into the mic, my voice still modulated by the voice changer.

There was a brief pause before Franco’s voice came through my headset, startled.

“Wait—what?!” He sounded confused. “Nicolas, why does your voice sound different—wait, hold on, is that— Ghost? ¡Ay, Dios mío! I was so worried about you, are—

I cut him off before he could get too carried away.

“You can talk to me like this after you finish this race, Franco,” I said, keeping my tone firm but light. “Right now, let’s focus on getting you on that podium, right?”

There was silence for a beat. Then, Franco let out a breath, his voice settling into something more determined.

“Right,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

For the rest of the race, I fed Franco a steady stream of advice, guiding him through each corner, each braking zone, each opportunity to gain a position. I pointed out where he needed to be patient and where he could push, where to watch for openings and when to strike. With every lap, he climbed the ranks, his confidence growing with each overtaking move.

By the time the checkered flag waved, he had secured P3—his first podium of the season.

The second he crossed the line, I let out a cheer, raising a fist in excitement.

“YES, FRANCO! ¡Tú eres el ganador!”

His laugh crackled through the radio, light and relieved. “I didn’t know you knew Spanish?”

I chuckled. “I thought I might as well learn some for my teammate.”

There was warmth in his voice when he replied, “I appreciate it, compañero.”

Nico leaned down to help me disconnect from the radio as Nicolas plugged himself back in, taking over to guide Franco into parc fermé. Within a minute, I was back in the wheelchair, rolling toward the main barricade where the team would gather to watch the podium ceremony.

As I sat off to the side, I watched the drivers filter through, those who hadn’t made the podium making their way back to their garages. Some stopped to check in on me, giving me nods of encouragement or quick words of support.

“Hope you recover quickly,” Esteban said.

“You’re tougher than half of us out here,” Lewis added.

I smiled and thanked them, appreciating the camaraderie. Even though we were competitors on track, moments like this reminded me that the paddock was still a family.

Then, Jack walked by. He didn’t stop. He didn’t say a word.

But his eyes—those sad, almost guilty eyes—lingered on me for a second too long before he turned away and kept walking.

I swallowed down the tightness in my chest, pushing the moment aside as the sound of hurried footsteps and familiar voices filled the air.

“Ghost!”

Before I knew it, Kimi and Ollie were kneeling in front of me, both of them looking at me like I had just walked away from a near-death experience.

Kimi’s hand landed gently on my knee, his grip firm but comforting. Ollie, on the other hand, slid his fingers into mine, holding my hand as if reassuring himself that I was actually here, actually okay.

“God, I am so glad to see you around and moving like this,” Ollie whispered, his voice unsteady.

“You scared us when you passed out like that, tesoro,” Kimi added, his Italian accent thick with concern.

I felt my face flush at the pet name. Tesoro—something lovers would call each other in italy.

Thank fuck they couldn’t see my face right now, or I’d never hear the end of their teasing.

I cleared my throat, trying to keep my composure. “Don’t worry, guys. I’m only out for four weeks, which means I’ll only miss one race. That’s it.”

They didn’t look convinced, but I pressed on. “If you want, we can plan another hangout during the break. Maybe go somewhere nice together so you can see just how okay I am.”

That got them to smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” Ollie said, giving my hand a light squeeze before they were both pulled away by their respective teams.

Just as I exhaled, thinking I had a moment to breathe, another voice called out to me.

“Hey, there you are.”

I looked up to see Oscar approaching, hands tucked into the pockets of his race suit, his usual calm demeanor softened with concern.

I smiled. “You found me.”

He chuckled, crouching down beside me so we were at eye level. “How are you really feeling?”

I sighed. “Sore, but fine. I’ll survive.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t push. Instead, he nodded toward the paddock. “You staying home during the break?”

I shrugged. “For now, yeah. Haven’t thought too far ahead. But I did just tell Kimi and Ollie I would travel with them if they wanted. No official plans yet.”

“Well,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “if you need anything—help getting around, groceries, someone to hang out with when you get bored—I’m around.”

I raised a brow. “Offering to be my personal chauffeur, Piastri?”

He smirked. “Only if you say please.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He patted the armrest of my wheelchair lightly before standing up. “Take care of yourself, alright? Don’t push too hard.”

I gave him a mock salute. “No promises.”

Oscar rolled his eyes but smiled before heading off.

I looked back just as Franco pulled up, his car rolling to a stop beside Max and Lando in parc fermé. The second the engines cut off, Lando was already pulling off his steering wheel, leaning over to say something to Max as the two laughed, completely unaware of my presence.

Franco, however, was different.

The moment he removed his helmet, his eyes scanned the crowd, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he searched for me. His face fell slightly when he didn’t spot me among the team, his brows furrowing in concern. But then, finally, his gaze locked onto me, sitting just away from the main group, tucked off to the side in the wheelchair.

For a moment, I thought I saw worry flicker across his face—maybe at the sight of the chair, maybe at how distant I was from the usual celebration—but it was quickly replaced by relief, his lips curling into a wide, teary-eyed smile.

“GHOST!”

His voice rang through the air, cutting through the noise of parc fermé and drawing the attention of nearly everyone around.

Before I could even brace myself, he was bolting toward me, nearly tripping over himself in his rush. He skidded to a stop just before reaching me, clearly trying to slow himself down so he wouldn’t accidentally hurt me. Instead, he dropped to his knees in front of me, hands hovering as if he wanted to hold me but was too scared of causing me any pain.

I chuckled, shaking my head at his dramatics. “I’m fine, Franco.”

But he wasn’t convinced. His hands finally settled gently on my arms as his eyes roamed over me, taking in every detail—every bandage, every bruise, every sign that I wasn’t at full strength.

“Do you feel any pain right now? What was the worst injury you got?” he asked, his voice quieter now, still thick with emotion.

Before I could answer, two more sets of footsteps pounded against the pavement.

“The fuck?”

I glanced up just in time to see Lando and Max rushing over, both of their faces a mix of shock and concern.

“You came back to the paddock after all that?” Lando asked, staring at me like I had just materialized out of thin air. “Why would you do that?”

Max, on the other hand, looked downright unimpressed. “You are injured, why would you come back to the scene of it all?”

I shrugged. “I wanted to watch the race and support my family. I didn’t really want to catch any attention to risk getting even more hurt though.”

Max gestured vaguely toward Franco, who was still kneeling in front of me, practically vibrating with emotions. “Yeah. That worked out well.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could argue, Lando crouched beside Franco, looking me over just as intently.

“Are you sure you're okay to be here?” he asked, softer this time, the teasing gone.

I sighed. “I’m sore, but I’m okay. Just stuck in this thing for a while.” I pointed at the sling around my arm. Lando frowned, but he nodded. “Well, at least you’re here.”

Max, who had been standing with his arms crossed, suddenly exhaled sharply and shook his head. “Alright, that’s it,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

I blinked. “What?”

“You’re coming home with me,” he stated, already pulling his phone out of his race suit pocket. “I’m not letting you fly commercial in your condition.”

I stared at him. “Max, I’m fine—”

“You’re injured,” he cut in. “And knowing you, you’d try to do everything by yourself and make it worse.” Franco and Lando both nodded in agreement, traitors that they were.

Max continued, tapping at his screen. “I’ve already invited the others who were worried about you. Kimi, Ollie, Oscar—I know they’d want to be there to make sure you’re okay.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Lando held up a finger. “Nope. You’re not winning this argument.” Franco grinned. “Just let us take care of you, cariño.”

I groaned, slumping back in my chair. “Fine. But if any of you baby me, I swear—”

Max smirked. “No promises.”

Before I could retaliate, a race official called out to them, reminding them they had a podium celebration and interviews to get to.

Franco squeezed my hand once before standing. “I’ll see you after?”

I smiled. “I’ll be waiting.”

Max gave me a final nod before he and the others turned back toward parc fermé, the weight of the race now settling into the excitement of celebration.

And me? I was lucky—because of my injuries, I didn’t have to do any media.

At least some good came out of all of this bullshit.

Now the only question left on my mind was Jack, what was gonna come from this? Would I get the brother I have looked up to back? Or was this the end of my story a part of the Doohan family?

Masterlist

Taglist: @widow-cevans @honethatty12 @wierdflowerpower @imlonelydontsendhelp @thatsnotaddy @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @littlesimps-world @dozyisdead @mizzy-pop @lost4lyrics @anunstablefangirl @nikfigueiredo

Thank You everyone for the patience! I was hoping that I could get back to updating on the same schedule I started with compared to the almost once a week I had fallen into. But I did not want to turn this chapter into two parts. Hopefully from here I can continue to update as often as I was hoping.

#x reader #driver!reader #f1 #f1 angst #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 grid x reader #f1 imagine #f1 driver!reader

211 notes · View notes

samsxowboyhat · 5 months ago

Text

Redacted Actor AU Headcanons

Lovely’s actor's tears looked so real during the inversion that Vincent’s actor had to keep asking if they were okay.

David and Darlin’s actors are actually siblings.

Asher’s actor originally auditioned for the role of Guy, but the director thought it would be better for Baabe’s actor to play Asher since they were already together.

Ivan’s actor repeatedly had to check on Baby’s actor after a scene because he genuinely thought he had hurt them.

Gavin’s jokes are unscripted due to his actor forgetting his lines, but it never gets re-filmed because it fits Gavin’s character.

Caelum’s actor was in a school play that the director attended and was impressed with him, but due to him being too young to portray Caelum, he was placed in smaller productions until he was old enough to play the role(He instantly bonded with Freelancer and Gavin’s actors).

Vega’s actor actually shared the Vega role with his twin brother after Vega lost his memories, so it could feel like Vega was a different person.

The Shaw pack members are actually childhood friends (David’s actor wouldn’t take his role unless the others could also be placed in the pack roles).

Geordi and Cutie’s actors both attend K-pop concerts together.

Aggro is actually Milo’s actor's cat (his actor was placed in a room with a bunch of cats, and Aggro was most comfortable with him).

The D.A.M.N crew's actors didn’t even know each other at first (they each had a scene with one another, then got the bowling scene together and bonded over time).

Porter’s and Treasure’s actors don’t have any romantic feelings for each other, but they do bond with each other on set.

Quinn’s actor actually had more scenes, but the actor became uncomfortable with Quinn’s character, so most of it got cut.

The inversion was the hardest and most expensive scene to film.

Freelancer’s actor actually had to kiss Huxley’s, Damien’s, and Lasko’s actors before being paired with Gavin’s actor because they looked more comfortable kissing each other.

Darlin’s actor didn’t have romantic feelings for Sam’s actor, simply loving his presence until later in production (nobody ever knew about it except David’s actor).

Lovely’s actor hates slap scenes because they always feel like they hit too hard whenever they see the shock on their co-star's face (they immediately apologize afterward).

The Friendsgiving episode was actually real (the D.A.M.N crew didn’t have time to see their families due to filming for the inversion and the E&E games, so they just spent it together).

At one point during filming, the shifters were actually going to be large dogs, but they didn’t look right on camera, so green screens were used instead.

Sweetie’s actor is never aware of Azmidi’s actors actions due to the director wanting actual fear from them

(I’ve never actually had an answer for this I don’t think but does the caller actually have a name? I’ve seen people on tumblr calling him Azmidi but I’ve also seen others calling him John/gen q)

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted #redacted headcanons #redacted darlin #redacted lovely #redacted asher #redacted david #redacted freelancer

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ppssession · 7 months ago

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Change and have fun

Handsome male model Cha is eating a delicious cake received from a lovely follower.

The sweet taste of the cake makes him happy and enjoy the delicious taste he gets.

At that time, he recalled a memory from 13 years ago (Cha is now 26 years old).

13 years ago, Cha was an ordinary young man with a boring life. His face was ordinary and his works were not very outstanding in the eyes of others.

The only fun part about him is that he often lives on social media as a handsome guy, an avatar he seamlessly created using AI.

His image as a handsome man on social media makes him happy, sometimes he feels like he wants to become like the handsome man he created.

One day, he had to be alone when his parents had to work abroad for several years, leaving him alone in his life. Cha felt very lonely because of the society he encountered and the status he had on social media. Cha could only hope that one day he would become the handsome guy he created from AI on social media.

One morning, Cha woke up with a lot of symptoms like never before. He spent the whole day feeling strange pains. That evening, while Cha was standing in front of the screen, playing with his social media as a handsome guy, he felt like he wanted to be a handsome guy again. But suddenly, his body started to change. His arms suddenly became strangely muscular.

At that moment, he was shocked, but before he could stop himself, he felt that this was his chance, he quickly recalled the image of the handsome young man he had created, his figure suddenly changed even more.

His once thin body became more muscular, his chest became more prominent, and his six-pack gradually appeared on his stomach. His legs that were once as dry as wood became bigger. His once ordinary face changed into the face he wanted, becoming the handsome face he had created.

When the process was over, Cha had transformed into the handsome guy in the social network he had created. He went into the bathroom and took off all his clothes. He was shocked to find that he had transformed into the handsome guy he had created with AI.

Cha slowly used his new hands to stroke his different parts exploratively. His beautiful fingers stroked his sculpted body, his handsome face that he was sure would make anyone who saw it fall in love with, his hot neck, his chest that felt hard every time he touched it, his strong six-pack.

He stumbled and fell slowly as his fingers touched his erect nipples, causing his penis to slowly become erect, his hand slowly moved to the core of his body, tingling as the strong hands slowly worshipped it passionately. The swollen head of his cock twitched as it was touched, he wanted more, he wanted more emotion.

Suddenly his dick grew bigger and bigger as he wanted.

The action made him feel even better than before. His voice was moaning in the bathroom lustfully. For a moment, he felt like he wanted more. Suddenly, his moans sounded more manly, causing Cha to almost go crazy when he heard his own moans.

Soon, the rhythm of the tea became erratic, his hard and heavy testicles twitched, his cock trembled and released a large amount of warm white semen, filling the bathroom floor.

After the hot activity, Cha lay back, breathing heavily as a huge wave of happiness came, smiling at the good opportunity in his life.

After Cha changed his body into a hottie for a special reason, he asked his parents to let him play homeschool at home so that his grades would be better, which was not a problem. His parents allowed him on the condition that in addition to his grades being better, he had to go to school in his final year, which was not a problem at all.

In the final year of study, everyone had almost forgotten about Cha's existence. However, everyone was shocked when they met Cha in the final year, and no one knew that this Cha was the same Cha as the bland young man back then.

At that time, 13 years later, Cha was taking pictures handsomely. He was most satisfied with his current life, but what he liked most was that he could transform into a handsome man. “You should see the faces of my parents when they see me for the first time in years and know that I have become a handsome man, hahaha.”

I don't have much to excuse because I'm sooooo busy. It's strange that I should be free at the end of the year. I will definitely start updating the short stories after this, so please stay tuned.

#male transformation #male shapeshift #shapeshift

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago

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Playing Favourites V

Leah Williamson x Child!Reeader

Summary: The Euros

The day before the final, you're in tears.

It's all Leah's fault and she sobs too.

They'd had some morning training before Sarina had sent them all off to spend time with their family before the match tomorrow. Leah had slipped out of the hotel as soon as she could, passing Alessia and her little sister on the way and then bumped into Mary taking her own little sister to a café.

It seems that everyone had the same idea to hang out with their little siblings because Leah had that idea too, collecting you from Mum and immediately taking you to the park.

You're still tiny and your little legs get very tired so Leah carries you most of the way until she can sit you on her lap on the swings.

You really like the swings, giggling every time Leah pumps her legs and goes a bit higher.

She doesn't see you too much but it's safe to say that you're still in that stage where you absolutely adore her. You're still at that point where everything Leah does is hysterically funny and cool and you want to do exactly what she's doing, no matter how small you actually are.

Which is probably why you don't tell her that she's pushing you too fast on the roundabout. It's going very quickly and it makes your head all dizzy.

Leah keeps pushing it faster and faster and faster though and your tight little grip on the bars loosens and you shoot off it like a rocket.

The roundabout is still spinning as Leah stares in horror at your little crumpled body. You sit up, bottom lip wobbling and promptly burst into tears.

She swears and leaps into action, brushing the dirt off your clothes before checking your head.

You've got a cut on your forehead. It's not bad or anything, it's barely bleeding but you whine and sob every time she touches it.

"I'm sorry, bean," She coos to you as you try to bat her hand away," Just a second. Just a little more. You're being so big and strong."

Leah's digging in the little backpack she packed for you and pulls out that most outrageously big plaster she can find before sticking it firmly to your head.

You sniffle. "Kiss better," You order.

"You want me to kiss it better?"

"Magic healing kisses," You say," Like Mummy's."

"Okay, bean," Leah says, pursing her lips," Are you ready? Here comes Leah's magic healing kisses." She presses multiple all over the plaster and then several more over your cheeks until you are no longer crying.

"Play more?" You ask, pointing over at the slide and Leah winces at the idea of you falling off it.

She shakes her head. "Let's go meet up with Mum. We're having lunch with her, remember?"

You huff but allow yourself to be led away by Leah before you're hefted up into her arms when another bolt of guilt jolts down her spine at the plaster on your head.

"Oh, what happened, little bean?" Your mummy asks when you both join her at the restaurant.

"Fell," You say with a little shrug, completely over it now as you draw all over your puzzle page," On spiny thing. Splat on the ground."

"I spun it too fast," Leah says sadly when your attention is fully on your drawing again," And she got flung off it. She was bleeding, Mum. It was terrible. She was crying."

"She's little," Her Mum says," She cries when she's a particularly cute puppy. It was probably shock, Leah. She's fine now and that's what matters."

"It was my fault. I'm such a bad sister."

"Leah, you're a good sister. You had today off and what did you do? You decided to take Bean to the park. You're a good sister. She adores you."

Leah isn't really convinced but she settles as you blindly reach out for another crayon.

"Bean, did you have fun at the park with Leah?"

You didn't look up at your mummy's question but you do nod your head. "Played on swings," You say as you scrawl the yellow on the Leah stick figure you've drawn," And fed ducks. Got ouchy but Leah did magic kisses so all better."

"That's nice," Your mummy says," Now, do you know what you want for lunch yet?"

You're on Leah's mind all throughout the match the next day, all the way until the final whistle and all throughout the medal ceremony.

"Look, bean!" Leah says as she pulls you over the barrier.

"Medal!"

"It is!" Leah laughs. She wraps an England flag around your shoulders, tying the corners together so it's like a cape. "Here, put it on."

She slips it over your head and you poke at it, the sudden weight around your neck feels a little weird but Leah is beaming so you smile too.

You don't leave her arms for the entirety of the pitch side celebrations, even when you completely crash out against her. Further up the pitch, Leah can spy Mary swinging her own little sister around while Alessia's little sister is kicking a ball around with her and Ella.

You're exhausted though, knocked out cold in Leah's arms with her medal still around your neck and the plaster from yesterday still stuck firmly across your forehead.

"Hey, man," Leah says as one of the photographers walks past," Do you mind?"

She beams at the camera, adjusting her grip on you so your sleeping face can be seen properly.

It takes a few hours for her to get sent the photo to her phone but it immediately becomes her Instagram profile picture and her lock screen.

It gets hung up in her locker too, so everyone can see you and her together.

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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flowery-mess · 4 months ago

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kill the silence: dance with me

this is part two of kill the silence

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

reader has a name (Ella Thompson, but the story is written in 'your' POV)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / sexual content/ protected sex / dry humping / reader x mother argument / I think that's it, let me know

Words: 7,2k

Author's note: So, it's finally done and I can't wait for you to read it!❤️‍🩹 I think this beat nowhere to go and is now my favorite🥹

frat boy Noah masterlist

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“Do you have the suit?” you asked Noah when you two arrived at the airport, frantically digging in your bag making sure you have your passport and plane ticket.

“Do you really think I’d forget the most important clothes for this trip?” Noah started to get a bit annoyed, because you already asked him about the suit around ten times.

“Sorry. And your passport?”

“What about it?”

“Do you have it?” you asked in shock, scared that his question meant that he forgot to pack it.

“Of course I do.” he was thinking about messing around and telling you he forgot it, but by the way you were looking at him it would only make you jump out of the plane later. “Jesus Ella, relax.”

“Did you forget where we are going?” you shot him a look that said “shut up”, so he did.

After the night you spent at Noah’s couch he promised you that if you want, he’d come with you. At first you thought it wouldn't be necessary and you won’t drag him into your mess, but then you received the invitation and knew you couldn’t handle it alone.

That night you knocked on his door with a bottle of wine in your hand and glassy eyes. When he opened the door you shoved the invite to his chest and made your way inside before he had a chance to say hello.

Clara and Molly went shopping with you and told you that if you’re going to look sad the whole time, you at least have to look hot while being a human form of sadness.

The colors of the wedding were different shades of blue, beige and grey so you decided to go with the navy blue dress you found in the first shop. Partially because you didn’t want to waste more time than necessary with this wedding.

You and Noah had to fly to your hometown with the flight being just a bit over two hours. Your mom was really happy that you were coming and even more happier that you had a plus one. A plus one that was a male.

You think she’s going to have a heart attack when she sees Noah and his tattoos, but you feel satisfaction from that.

She told you that you two can stay at their house, your room still ready for your visit at any time, but you refused. You knew that would only cause an unnecessary drama and Noah doesn’t have to witness that.

So you and Noah booked a hotel close to the venue, a safe space for you to let your anger out before and after the event.

“Enjoy your flight!” the girl at gate number 8 gave you the biggest smile you have ever seen when she was done with checking your plane tickets.

“Can I have the window seat?” you mumbled towards Noah, slightly ashamed of the scene you did earlier, but he was the one with the window seat on his ticket.

“I didn’t hear you.” he exaggerated his point by pointing to his left ear.

“Can I have the window seat, please?” you shot him a look and innocent smile.

“Yes.”

Noah knew you were scared of flying, so even though you treated him like a child just minutes before, he didn’t want to make this trip harder than it already was for you.

If it would be Noah’s choice, he’d pick the aisle seat so he could stretch his legs during the flight, but before you booked the plane tickets you drank the whole bottle of wine and you promised him a blowjob if he lets you choose the seats. Now he was paying for his own actions with his legs folded in a weird angle and you crushing his hand.

He took a look at you and didn’t understand how you managed to fly on your own when you were visiting your mom. Your legs were bouncing, eyes were shut and the grip you had on his hand was like if heavy weight lifter was holding it.

“Are you okay?” he asked with his brows furrowed in a weird angle.

“No. I just want the flight to be over.” you said quickly, because maybe saying it quickly would make the flight quicker.

Through the flight you were either gripping Noah’s hand or the hand rest between your bodies. Noah fell asleep, many times, because you woke him up every time. That being said, there’s no saying who was more thankful for the plane landing on solid ground. The color returned to your pale face and Noah was free to move his hand like he wanted to.

“I told you we should’ve rented a car.” Noah told you when another cab passed by you.

“It’s not my fault all of the Bolt and Uber drivers are busy and the damn cab just won’t stop.” you threw back at him.

Just 3 days, 2 nights. Noah repeated that to himself.

Actually you were both nervous for this trip, the length of it being the longest time you have spent together so far. So far it was just a pleasant time.

When you finally arrived at the hotel and got all of your things to your shared room, you finally felt like you could breathe. The room was small, but it was enough for the time you’re going to spend in it.

“Give me your suit.” you told Noah who was just scrolling on his phone while you were ironing your blue dress.

“You don’t have to do it for me, I can do it.”

“It calms me down. Give me your suit and shirt please.” it was more of a statement than a question.

As you were turning the fabric of Noah’s clothes in your hands your mind drifted to picture Noah in it. You haven’t seen him in a suit, but he had a nice one, probably an expensive one. Of course he’s going to look good in it.

You thought about his ink being in contrast with the white shirt he brought with him, his neck full of tattoos peaking out at the top.

After you went out for dinner you took a walk around the city. You showed Noah some of your favorite places and shared some old stories with him.

When you pointed to a big white house and told him that’s where your ex boyfriend lives, he couldn’t help himself and started moving his hips like if he was fucking you, “Let’s show him what he's missing.”

“You’re a child.” you pushed him off of you with a laugh. He was acting like a child, but he knew how to lift up your mood.

Back at the hotel you were the first one to slide under the white covers in hopes that maybe you’ll oversleep your alarm and miss the whole wedding.

“Are you ready?” Noah asked when he was laying next to you.

“I don’t know.” you answered truthfully.

“You can still change your mind, you know. You don’t have to go there.”

“I want to show her that I’m the bigger person out of the two of us. That even though she hurt me, I’ll still be there to support her when she’s making the biggest mistake of her life.”

“You’re strong Ella, you can do it.” that felt funny to hear from someone who suffered much more in his life than you.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?” Noah was confused.

“Because you could be back home and enjoying your summer break. But instead you’re in this shitty hotel with me for a wedding of two strangers. And I’m still complaining about my life even though I know what you’ve been through. God I’m an idiot.” you covered your face with your hands, feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh no you’re not doing this.” Noah said and turned his body to lay on his side. He gently lifted your hands from your face and made you look at him. “It’s not a competition, okay? You can’t compare our traumas and decide that yours are less important just because you feel like mine are bigger. You’re hurt, so feel the hurt. And sadness. And anger.” some of the tears spilled onto your cheeks and he reached his hand to make them disappear.

“She’s your mother, someone who should love you and be there for you. And if she didn’t do that throughout your life, how is it better than me not having my mother present? We both have our own shit, so let’s not compare it. Okay?” he whispered the last word.

“Okay.” you nodded your head and wiped the rest of your tears.

You both tried to fall asleep, but both of your minds just wouldn’t stop running. You tried different positions, cuddling, not cuddling, blanket on, blanket off, but nothing seemed to help.

“Can you tell me a story?” you groaned in frustration.

“What are you like 5?” Noah mocked you.

“I can’t fall asleep, talk about something and maybe it’ll bore me enough to fall asleep.”

“Okay. There was a girl, you wouldn’t believe it but she looked just like you. She had huge tits and her ass wa-” he couldn’t finish the sentence because his voice was muffled by the pillow you threw at him.

“You’re the worst.” you told him over your shoulder, but laughed too.

“You love me.” he turned to his side too, so now your backs were facing each other.

After a while you felt sleep take over your body and mind, sending you into a state of deep mind.

“Can you help me with my hair please?” you yelled from the bathroom, hoping Noah would hear you and come to your help instead of falling asleep again.

He was already dressed and ready to leave, but you found him sleeping in the chair just a few minutes ago.

“Noah?” you called out again.

“I can hear you, I’m coming!” he shouted back.

When his tall frame appeared in the door you couldn’t help but take double look at him.

He was wearing the most basic black suit you could think of, but god did he look handsome.

The white shirt was highlighting his painted skin, his pants hugging him in all the right places and the classy jacket completed his outfit perfectly. He chose to wear a tie, black leather shoes and belt, finishing the accessories with a few rings on his fingers.

“What do you need?” he caught you staring at him through the mirror, but didn’t say a word because he was doing just the same.

The navy dress you already put on hugged your curves and flattered your body. Your makeup was done, light brown eye shadows with eye liner and your significant red lipstick, this time a bit darker than your usual.

You had a few accessories as well and finished the outfit with glitter shoes and bag in the same color.

“I need you to hold this section on the side while I do the top.” you went for a half up half down hairstyle, the lower half curled decently.

Noah stood behind you, his clean scent hitting your nose immediately. You watched him through the mirror as he grabbed the lower half of your hair, collected all of it in one of his hands and gently held it to the side.

His touch was always gentle with you, his soft and warm fingers caressed the skin of your bare shoulders and you felt shivers through your body.

If he noticed your reaction, he didn’t say anything.

You didn't know what the reason was, but you felt closer to him. Was it the fact that he came here with you? Or the fact that you were getting ready to attend a wedding together?

He was different in clothes like this, but also his behaviour changed, as if he would make your comfort his priority on this trip. And he did, wanting nothing more that for this event to go smoothly so he doesn’t have to fix the mistakes of your mother.

“Do you have everything?” Noah asked you when you were both getting ready to leave. His hand was on the handle before he turned back around and saw you standing there. Just standing there.

No tears, frown, sad face, shaking, you were just staring.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to see it Noah.” you admitted in barely more than a whisper.

He closed the distance between you two and cupped your cheeks with his hands and made you look him in his eyes.

“Be the bigger person Ella, let’s show up. Don’t make her see that she hurt you.” you leaned your head into his touch and closed your eyes. You took a moment for yourself, taking a few deep breaths before you opened your eyes again and found Noah’s still looking down at you.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“There you go.” Noah smiled when he saw the change of look on your face. “But remember, you say the word and we’re out. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You linked your hand with his and let him lead you out of the room.

Drive to the venue was short and silent. You played with your hands the whole time while Noah was looking out of the window, watching the streets of the city you grew up in.

“Wow.” Noah said when you got out of the cab and stood in front of the small building with a big garden behind it.

“Yeah, wow.” you had to agree.

There were people walking in and out of the door, women in pretty dresses and men in all different kinds of suits by their sides.

Next to the main door was a welcome sign with the names of the bride and groom. From where you were standing you could already see the decorated tables, dance floor and live band getting ready.

“Shall we?” Noah put his hand around your waist and started walking towards the entrance.

So far you haven’t seen any familiar faces in the sea of people. Probably because all of your mom’s friends were with her in one of the private rooms, getting her ready to walk down the aisle.

She asked you to be there with her too, but you declined. You knew you’d be a pain in the ass and ruin her day even before it began.

You walked through the area you saw from the street just minutes ago and went to look at what number was your table. You found your and Noah’s name under the number 15 along with names of your two cousins.

You didn’t have a big family, so this wasn’t some big family reunion for you, but you were excited about seeing your grandparents and aunt with her two kids that were just a bit younger than you.

Noah followed you around, you two almost looked like you ended up at the place by mistake.

“Let’s get a drink.” you pointed in the direction of a bar and didn’t even bother to wait for Noah.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked you when you drank half of the glass in one gulp. He never questioned how much or what alcohol did you consume, but he wasn’t sure if getting drunk before the ceremony begins is the way.

“Just one glass, for nerves.” you shot him a look and finished the glass.

You found your seats in the second row right behind your grandparents whose chairs were still empty. You were actually the first people to sit down, because you wanted to avoid walking through people looking for their seat and noticing you.

You were sitting right at the aisle with Noah by your left. You noticed his squirming in the chair and his eyes that couldn’t be focused for more than a second and suddenly you felt bad.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god, I shouldn’t have dragged you here.” you blurted out.

“What?”

“You’re uncomfortable, you don’t want to be here. What was I thinking? You’re sitting in the second row at a wedding where you don’t know anyone and you’ll probably get bored. We’re literally just sleeping together, why did I let you do this?” you stopped talking, not sure if you were talking to him or to yourself.

“Stop talking. I volunteered, it was my decision and I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“We can leave after the ceremony.”

“I don’t need to leave.”

“Noah.”

“Ella.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“You’ll tell me if you want to leave right?”

“I will.” you wanted to protest some more, but a female voice interrupted you.

“Is that you Ella?” you turned around in your chair and saw your grandmother.

“Nana!” you stood up and quickly wrapped your arms around her. You felt comfort. Comfort in arms of a woman who always whispered funny jokes about Richard only to your ear and always talked about him behind his back with you.

“And who is this gentleman next to you?” you felt Noah stood up behind you and one of his hands found the small of your back.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts the whole time that you didn’t think of what you’re going to tell people about you and Noah. Definitely not that you’re a fuck buddies.

As you were searching for the right words, Noah moved you to the side and took your grandmother’s hand in his with a simple “I’m Noah, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m so happy she finally found a new boyfriend, that ex boyfriend of hers was too weird.” she talked to him like you were not standing between them.

“Nana Noah’s actually not m-”

“Yeah I heard some stories.” Noah didn’t let you finish your sentence and rather continued talking with your grandmother, ignoring your presence as well.

“Well sweethearts I’m gonna find my seat and find you later. Save a dance for me young man!”

When she wandered off to say hi to someone else, you turned around to face Noah with a confused face.

“What the hell was that?” you asked.

“Would you rather explain what we are to your grandmother than just get along with her theory?” Noah asked, chuckling at your face he just added “Didn’t think so.”

“You don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“I’m not, I never confirmed that information to her.”

“What if someone else asks?”

“Just introduce me as Noah.” he shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care even if you told everyone that you two are married and have five kids back at home.

Thankfully introducing Noah to your two cousins went much better and you felt more at ease when you heard Noah talking to the older one about some car stuff.

Before anyone else could approach you and put you in stress again, the ceremony began.

First your mom's and Richard’s friends walked down the aisle in pairs and lined up at the end of it. Then Richard appeared in the door. He was wearing white suit and a big smile on his face.

Noah saw your tense shoulders and wrapped his arm around your waist and used a bit of his strength to pull you closer to his chest. You appreciated the gesture and put your hand over his. The warmth of his body made you relax as your eyes followed Richard’s every step.

You held your breath when you heard the music change and the creek of the big white door opening again.

You were scared to turn your head, scared that what you’re going to see is going to break your heart in a way that’s not repairable.

You mirrored the actions of others and when you saw her you stopped breathing. She was beautiful. Her dress was long and flowy, looking exactly as something you pictured. Her hair and makeup was done by a professional and the bouquet she had in her hands complimented her whole appearance. By her side was your grandfather with a proud look on his face.

When they started walking towards Richard you felt Noah’s hand squeeze your skin over the fabric of your dress reminding you to breathe.

You didn’t even notice you were crying until you felt the first tear slide down your neck.

Your eyes met hers when she was coming closer, both of you had tears in your eyes. Hers were happy tears, yours were not.

She sent you a quick smile and then looked back ahead of her. You couldn’t do anything than to just watch in silence as your mom was promising her life to a man you hated.

Just like you were the first to find your seats, you were also the last two people sitting there. Noah put his arm around your shoulder and tucked your head under his chin. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

“I don’t know.” you whispered back with tears still running down your cheeks.

You wanted to leave. You wanted to be alone. You wanted to run away from this city. You wanted to hide yourself from everything.

But you heard jingling of dishes and knew you should move to your table, so you dried your cheeks and sat up straight.

“Let’s go.” you stood up and Noah just watched you walk away. He didn’t know what to do. He would be more than okay if you two left the venue, but he didn’t want to be the one to suggest it.

He found you sitting at the table, talking to your cousin and looking a bit better than just a minutes ago.

“Man, your tattoos are sick!” your cousin and Noah seemed to get along which put your nerves at ease.

“Thanks.” Noah was bad at accepting compliments, even if it was about his tattoos. His cheeks got a bit red, it was funny seeing him this nervous.

“So, how's college going? Are you two in the same class?” you were glad you had someone your age sitting at the table with you, making it easier for both you and Noah.

“I have a different major than Ella, but we have sociology together this year.”

“Can I guess your major?” your other cousin jumped into the conversation.

“I guess.” Noah chuckled.

“Hmm, engineering!”

“I wish I was that smart. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Let me take a guess.” before you could hear what the other guess was you zoned out of the conversation and looked around the room full of people.

There were mom’s friends, you saw your grandparents sit at a table with Richard’s parents, next to them was a table with siblings and their significant others. Some tables were full of people you’ve never seen from Richard’s side.

Everyone looked like they were having fun and it made you feel bad for the bad mood you were in. You turned your attention back to the ongoing conversation and joined in.

Your grandmother was a woman of her word and when Noah didn’t ask her for a dance, she took it in her own hands and asked him to dance.

It was one of the funniest things you’ve seen in your life. Your small grandmother in a light blue dress moving Noah around the dance floor. Noah looked scared when she dragged him from the table and managed to whisper yell at you “I’ll kill you.” for not doing anything to help him out of the situation. But you needed a laugh and you were not disappointed.

You have never seen Noah dance before, so you didn’t know what to expect, but when you saw the way your nana was leading him, not the other way around, you were sure even if he had a secret talent in the form of dancing, he didn’t have a chance to show it.

You and your cousins were having so much fun watching Noah suffer to keep up with her, all three of you with cameras in your hands to make sure this moment won’t be forgotten.

“I’ve never seen someone look so scared as him, Ella you sh-” your cousin stopped mid sentence which made you turn your head only to see your mom standing by your table.

“Hi.” she said, to all of you, but her eyes were on you.

“Hi.” you told her back.

“Can I steal you for a moment?” she asked with hopeful eyes.

You took one last look at Noah and your nana, who was currently squeezing Noah’s bicep through his suit and then stood up from your seat, “Lead the way.”

She led you outside back to the place where the ceremony was held.

“Are you having fun? I saw your boyfriend on the dancefloor with nana, poor guy.” she said with a laugh, obviously not aware of your mood.

“Can’t really say I’m having fun today.” you said truthfully, tired of hiding the truth from her.

“Did you like the ceremony?” she still had a smile on her face and ignored your words.

“I don’t know, I guess.” you shrugged your shoulders, interested in where this conversation will go.

“Do you like my dress?” she asked another question.

“Yeah, they are nice.” your face remained emotionless and her smile slowly disappeared.

“I’m trying here Ella.”

“Me too.”

“I appreciate you coming today, really.” you didn’t know what to say so you just nodded. “You’re never gonna stop, will you?”

“Stop what?”

“Stop this stubborn act. You’re an adult and you should start acting like one. I’m married now and your opinion won’t change it.”

“You know what, let’s not make this day a bad memory for your own good. So I’m gonna go back inside and pretend like this conversation never happened.” you really were trying to be the bigger person and remain calm. As much as you wanted to yell the truth in her face, you knew someone could hear you and you didn’t want to cause any drama.

You didn’t even take two steps before she spoke up again, “He’s not good enough for you.”

You stopped walking, not turning around to face her, because you were sure if you saw her face you’d do something regretful.

“I haven't had a chance to talk with him yet, but I know guys like him.” she continued.

Noah, she was talking about Noah.

“Do you?” you turned around to find her still sitting down in one of the chairs.

“He’s handsome, but boys like him are trouble.”

You couldn’t believe what was just happening. She just got married to someone so narcissistic and now she’s giving you dating advice?

“I don’t appreciate you talking like that about him.”

“Doesn’t feel nice right? To hear things like that about someone you care about.” she smirked and you knew what she was trying to do. She was throwing your words back at you.

“You don’t know him.”

“I don’t need to. Look at him, only criminals have tattoos like these. Are his parents paying for his studies? Can’t see a guy like this not dropping out the first week.” she didn’t know what she woke up in you with those words.

“You don’t know him.” you repeated, “That’s the difference. I’ve lived under the same roof as Richard for years, I know him and I know he’s not a good person. You don’t get to judge Noah by his appearance just because you want to hurt me. Leave him out of it.”

“You brought him here.”

“That doesn’t give you any rights to talk about him like that.” you started to raise your voice at her, something she never liked.

“Don’t talk to me like that, I’m your mother.”

You snorted at that statement, her actions toward you far from how a mother would treat her child.

“Yeah whatever. Enjoy the rest of the night, we’re leaving.” you started walking back with tears blurring your vision.

“Don’t come crying to me after he breaks your heart Ella!” she shouted at you and you saw red.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you turned around and shouted back at her, “He’s not my boyfriend and yet he still treats me better than your husband will ever treat you. He’s my friend and he’s always there for me when I need him. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, because you were never there for me. You never validated my feelings and opinions, but he does. And so what if he ever breaks my heart? He’ll still be someone who cared for me, someone I loved. Can’t say the same about you.” you spat those words in her direction and before she processed what you just said to her you turned around and walked back inside.

Your eyes started looking for Noah. He wasn’t back at the table, he wasn’t on the dancefloor with your nana, so you kept scanning the room and felt the anxiety rising in your body.

You didn’t want anyone to see you cry and for sure didn’t want to face your mom again.

Finally you found Noah’s face in the sea of others, he was sitting at your grandparents table talking to you grandfather.

You prayed he’d feel your gaze on him, because you didn’t want to go and get him in the state you were in.

Suddenly, as if he could hear your thoughts, his head turned around and his eyes met yours. His face immediately turned from smiling to concerned look and he excused himself from the conversation.

He closed the gap between you with a few quick steps, his hand already reaching for yours.

“Can we leave please.” you whispered at the verge of breaking down in front of everyone.

“Of course. I’ll get our things, wait for me outside, yeah?”

You just nodded and watched Noah grab your purse and his jacket and then started walking outside.

The silence and darkness of the night finally let you take in a deep breath. When Noah met you outside he put his jacket over your shoulders and didn’t ask any questions.

Thankfully you didn’t have to wait for a cab as there were already few of them waiting, ready to give lift to anyone who wanted to be back home before midnight.

You were silently crying in the back of the cab, your quiet sobs only heard by Noah, because the driver was occupied with singing to a song on the radio. Noah’s hand found yours in a comforting gesture, but you kept looking outside the window to calm your mind.

When the driver stopped in front of your hotel your cheeks were dry, eyes swollen and red from all the crying. But you had no tears left in your body.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Noah asked and sat down next to you on the bed which you left unmade that morning.

“No. Not now.” you were drained from the emotional rollercoaster and wanted to forget the whole day and talking about it wouldn’t help.

You two sat in silence side by side. It was silent enough that you could hear Noah’s breathing along feeling his shoulders move up and down with each breath.

You couldn’t tell how much time has passed since you entered the small room you two were sharing.

Noah was the first to break the silence when he stood up with his back to you and scrolled through his phone until he found what he was looking for.

The first chords of Stripped started playing through the speaker, Noah’s movement to place the device on the wooden table only made the sound of the song louder.

He turned to face you and his hand was reaching out in your direction. He saw your confused look and just chuckled for himself.

“We didn’t dance at the wedding.” he said like it was obvious.

“Are you serious?” you felt the corners of your mouth twitch when you realized what he was asking from you.

You noticed his tie was loosened and the first three buttons of his shirt were undone, his tattoos peeking from under the white fabric teasing you. His hair was messier now and his lips were holding a contagious smile.

“Come on, dance with me.” he didn’t wait for you to grab his hand and took his jacket off of your shoulders instead. Then with the slow drag of his fingers down your arm he intertwined your fingers with his and made you stand up.

🎶Come with me into the trees

We'll lay on the grass and let the hours pass

Take my hand, come back to the land

Let's get away, just for one day🎶

He placed your right arm on his shoulder and placed his on your waist. Your bodies started to sway along to the music, lifting your weights from one leg to the other.

You felt the heat from Noah’s body when he pressed you more into his chest and closed your eyes, enjoying the moment.

🎶Let me see you stripped

Down to the bone

Let me hear you make decisions

Without your television

Let me hear you speaking just for me🎶

Lyrics of this song were painfully truthful. You both saw each other stripped down to the bone at this point, your emotional connection now more than just a friends with benefits. You and Noah were real friends, and knew each other on a level that not many people have. You opened up to each other with all your traumas and sorrows.

Noah used the hand on your waist to gently push you away from him and lifted your connected hands, making you do a twirl. You felt your dress lift from the skin of your legs and flow around your body. Before you had a chance to figure out his next move, he swiftly moved his hands to your body in a way that he could bend his knees and put you in a backbend. Your faces were close in this position, you could feel his nose brush against yours.

“I can see why nana didn’t want to let go of you.” you said with a laugh.

Suddenly, Noah pulled you back up and put you both to the original position.

“She’s amazing, I think I love her.” he said also with a laugh and tucked your head under his chin.

🎶Metropolis has nothing on this

You're breathing in fumes

I taste when we kiss

Take my hand

Come back to the land

Where everything's ours for a few hours🎶

You both got quiet again, both lost in your own thoughts. You took the moment in with a sudden need to remember every detail of it. You knew something like this will probably never happen again and you felt like this was a rare and intimate moment for you both.

Noah’s hand gently rubbed your back as he led you around the room following the rhythm of the song.

🎶Let me see you stripped

Down to the bone

Let me hear you speaking just for me

Let me hear you crying just for me

Let me see you stripped

Down to the bone🎶

You raised your head from Noah’s chest and looked up at him. The lights were off, but a mix of the street lights and moonlight made Noah’s face look so soft. The hand that was on his shoulder slowly crept higher until you slid your fingers through his hair.

He lowered his head enough for your foreheads to touch and dragged his hand up your back until it caressed your exposed skin and found its way to the back of your neck.

You rubbed your noses against each other and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. You both wanted it, but waited who’s going to make the first move.

When you felt Noah squeeze the back of your neck a little you couldn’t wait anymore and pulled him into a kiss. Your bodies stopped swaying when the song ended, leaving you only with heavy breaths and silence.

The way you kissed each other mirrored the atmosphere of the moment, slow, gentle and intimate. Neither of you could see it, but both of your faces were full of desire and passion.

Noah slowly walked you back until you reached your shared bed and then turned you around so when he sat down you could straddle his lap.

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt without breaking the kiss and you took your sweet time with each one of them. At the bottom you pulled it out of his pants and slid it down his toned arms. His hands sneaked back around your waist and pulled you closer to his already hard erection. You felt it through the fabric of his pants and moved your hips in a hope for some fraction.

Noah’s lips left yours and slid down to your neck while he continued to encourage your hips to keep moving.

Your dress was rolled up at your waist so the sensation you felt from your hips moving in sync was intensive.

“Noah.” you breathed out his name, knowing very well where this position will get you.

“Keep going.” he encouraged you, but you wanted to feel more of him. Your hand slid down his chest and started undoing his belt. After a few tries you finally got it open and quickly moved from Noah’s lap so he could take them off. You went to take off your dress, but Noah stopped you.

“Keep them on, I want to see you cum looking this pretty for me.” he pulled you back on his lap and started moving your hips again.

You felt the outline of his dick between your folds and gripped his shoulders to stable yourself. The pace of your movements quicked just like the growing heat in your tummy.

“So pretty, I could watch you like this forever.” Noah whispered and grabbed your chin to make you look him in the eyes. After all the hurt and sadness he saw in your eyes in the last 24 hours he wanted to see the euphoric look you always had when you reached your high.

It took you a few more rolls of your hips and the first orgasm took over you, the intensity of Noah’s stare making it even more pleasurable.

You saw the look in his eyes and didn’t waste any time with words. His lips were swollen from the kissing and his eyes were full of sex.

You started kissing him, this time more needy. Tongues and teeth were included, both of you expressing hunger for the other.

You reached into his underwear and started stroking his cock which made his head fall back and a few moans escaped his mouth. Now you enjoyed the view under you.

Noah got lost for a moment, but he knew he’d cum soon if he didn’t stop now. He reached for the zip of your dress and gathered all of it in his hands so he could pull it over your head and threw it away along with his own clothes.

He stood up with you in his arms and turned around so you felt the soft mattress under you. Your hands were all over his body just like his were on yours. He palmed your breasts until he felt your nipples harden against the skin of his them.

You took your panties off to give him a sign that you needed him. His underwear followed not long after yours and he reached into his backpack for a condom.

You watched him roll it down on himself and slid your hand between your legs. You applied just a bit of pressure to your clit and watched Noah stroke his cock to get ready.

For a moment you both just looked at each other touching yourselves.

“Noah please.” you whined when your hand wasn’t enough.

“Please what?” he smirked.

“Fuck me.” it was almost unbelievable to hear those words from you, when just a few months ago you were shy even about kissing him.

No more time was wasted as Noah lined himself at your entrance and watched your facial expressions as he slowly slid into you. When he was fully in, he leaned down on his elbows to capture your lips in a kiss.

His thrusts were hard and quick, just like you both needed it.

“Harder.” you whined against his lips and held his face close to yours so he couldn’t pull away. You were a moaning mess underneath him. Noah’s brows were furrowed in bliss and concentration to make you both cum.

It was messy, the sounds of your connected bodies and hungry kisses. The room smelled like sex and sweat.

Your hands slid down Noah’s back and your nails scratched his back. He groaned in pleasure and laid his head down on your chest.

His lips found your nipple and sucked on it, sending your eyes in the back of your head.

You didn’t know what to focus on, the feeling of Noah filling you or his lips on your sensitive buds.

“I’m close.” his voice was muffled against your skin. You pulled him up by his hair, you wanted him closer to you.

You pushed two of your fingers inside of his mouth and felt his hot tongue swirl around them while holding eye contact. You pulled them out with a silent pop and put your hand between your bodies to touch your clit.

That gesture pushed all of Noah’s buttons and his thrust became unsteady. His dick slipping in and out of you along your fingers working on your clit was enough to send you over the edge for the second time and you were the one to break the intense eye contact with Noah.

Your head fell into the mattress and you let out a loud moan along with Noah’s name. Your walls squeezed his cock as he was fucking you through your after shocks and you heard his little whimpers that he always does when he’s close.

“Fuck me Noah, cum inside me.” you became conscious again and used his own weapon against him, words.

He looked into your eyes until the last second he was able to hold his head up, then you felt warmth even through the thin plastic barricade that was separating you and his head fell in the crook of your neck.

You heard mix of “fucks” and “oh gods” mumbled against your skin and more of Noah’s weight on your body as his elbows started to betray him.

Before he could fully collapse onto you, he slipped out of your pussy and laid down next to you.

He was still catching his breath, so you reached for the blanket that was messily laying next to you and pulled it over both of your bodies.

You cuddled into his chest and he was finally able to put one of his arms around. You continued to lay in silence, neither of you finding the right words to say after one of the best sexes you had together.

When you felt sleep taking over your tired body, you lifted your head so you could look him in the eyes when you said “Thanks for coming with me here, it means a lot.”. He gave you a tired smile and little nod, then his hand pulled you down and he gave you a kiss on the forehead. He gently laid your head back on his chest so you both could fall asleep after the long day.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

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oatmealwrites · 8 months ago

Text

A Night to... Forget? Ch.1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aizawa x Eidetic memory! Law student! Reader

for ch.2 click here

(For reference I aged up Keigo (Hawks to 25 ish just for the ages of you and Aizawa to make sense)

I will also use the pro hero last names for the first chapter with their pro name next to them in case you don't recognize

Word Count: 5.5k

SYNOPSIS: You never really felt like you had a quirk. Sure you technically did, but tons of people have been born with eidetic memories in the past, even before quirks became mainstream. You gave up the dream of being a pro-hero like your friends and instead found comfort in support through law. After a particularly draining case you assisted on, you find yourself dragged out to a bar with your best friend Keigo (hawks). The whole night was a bad idea, taking Keigo up on his drinking game was worse, especially when Aizawa was there. It’s the man you can’t help yourself pining over, and it’s the one night you can’t remember.

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the final tap of the judge’s wooden gavel, you rise to your feet and let out a sigh of any remaining energy you had left. The court marshals walked over to the defendant and swiftly cuffed the villain despite his loud and physical efforts to resist; your eyes following the marshals slowly escorting the man out of the room and noting the way his protests deafened once the doors swung closed.

“Nice work out there Y/N.”

You look over past the mid-height railing that separates the spectators from the court floor and lock eyes with detective Tsukauchi. A small smile on his face as he stands perfectly upright and attent.

“Thanks detective -”

“How many times do I have to say you can just call me Tsukauchi?”

You bite your tongue and shake your head lightly, now shuffling files into your soft leather briefcase and packing up.

“Right Tsukauchi. Thanks for your support, I didn’t realize you were going to be coming to the sentencing today.”

The detective adjusts his collar and scans the crowd of heroes, attorneys, policemen, and spectators slowly shuffling for the exits, obviously searching for someone, “It's always nice to see the next generation of people fighting for justice in action.”

You pause and raise an eyebrow; understanding there’s another reason for his attendance. “Toshinori (All Might) is probably in the lobby by now.” You continue sliding the court files into your bag, one by one, only focused on getting out of the courthouse and into bed.

Tsukauchi looks back at you, a slightly shocked expression on his face before he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck and smiles, “Right, thanks. I’ll see you around the station when you pick up files for your next case.”

You give a slight wave off to him and turn to sling the straps of your briefcase over your head and across your chest, ready to finally go home and sleep. Turning your head, your eyes follow the prosecutor you extern for walking back from his short talk with the judge who was now packing up as well.

“Nice job kid!” He gives you a slight pack on the back and pulls his cellphone from his pocket, scrolling through his contacts briefly, “I’m gonna have the secretary forward the followup paperwork over to you to file. Think you can get it done by Monday? We have a few more cases already pending and this one needs to close ASAP.”

You grip the straps of your briefcase and do your best not let your exhaustion show. This prosecutor is a big deal in your externship and unfortunately that also means most of your free time gets sacrificed. Instead of letting out the sigh that was sitting in your lungs, you swallow thickly and nod once, “Of course. I’ll start on it right away. Do you want me to begin memorizing the next case’s notes as well?”

The prosecutor snaps his fingers while looking up from his phone and slings his own briefcase over his shoulder, “Are you sure your quirk is eidetic and not mindreading?”

He laughs at his own joke before walking out of the court floor, past the spectator stands, and into the lobby, not bothering to even say goodbye.

You stand there for a moment, reviewing the plans you made this weekend that would now need to be rearranged. Meeting classmates in the library for group study (which was really group reading 200+ pages of law textbooks) should be uninterrupted at the usual meeting time of 9am.

Your report to UA might need a slight tweak, but nothing more than a few hours. Before every case you worked on, you always met with the pro-hero who had captured the villain who you would be assisting in prosecuting. Every detail memorized and ready for paperwork and eventually the courtroom floor.

The main issue would be Keigo. With a slight sigh you push your hair out of your face and pull up his contact, ready to flake on him and his movie night for the third week in a row. Stepping out of the court room floor you make your way out to the lobby and shift in between the groups of people to a small open area near the front windows.

You click the ‘dial’ button and raise the phone to your ear, looking out the window and the setting sun bringing a warm glow to the city. You hear a soft ring once, and then twice before you notice a cellphone from across the lobby ringing at the same interval. Before your eyes can even fully adjust to the sunset’s glare, you spot your best friend from across the room holding up his phone with a coy smile and heading to you.

You end the call and shuffle forward while sliding your cellphone into your blazer pocket, “What are you doing here?”

Keigo’s usual hero uniform was replaced with a gray t-shirt and black denim jeans; either on the way home or just coming from it. He casually glides a hand through his hair, pushing it back and letting a few stray strands fall back over his forehead again.

“Came to pick you up obviously.”

You raise an eyebrow and adjust the straps on your shoulder, “Huh? For what?”

Keigo side steps to allow other people to pass by and smoothly guides you out of the way with a slight pressure on your upper arm, “There’s a group going out to a bar to celebrate. A handful of pro heroes from UA and such are going, plus I’m sure some of your law school buddies will be around.”

You tilt your head, “Celebrate what?”

The lobby now getting busier and busier with spectators, police officers, and more leaving, Keigo gently grabs your elbow and pulls you near the vending machines by the exit doors.

“Celebrate the fact it’s Friday…?” He scratches the back of his head and laughs, “Ok well it’s more like everyone has been super busy catching villains and uhh..-”

“Prosecuting”

“Prosecuting,” he snaps his fingers, “so it was like a group decision to take some time off and relax.”

You squint at him, “Uh huh? I have a lot of work to do and so do you as well anyways,” You turn to the exit and Keigo quickly pivots to block your path.

“I knew you were gonna say that,” he pokes your shoulder lightly, “and I knew you were probably gonna flake on movie night again this week.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and purse your lips slightly at being read so easily. It’s not like you were trying to avoid him, you just had way too much on your plate at the moment. Your silence is answer enough for him and he smiles in victory

“Ok then it’s settled. Come have a few drinks and the weekend is all yours to do your boring school stuff.”

You shove his shoulder lightly, knowing you could never convince him otherwise, “Ok fine. And I want it known that I don’t enjoy doing homework or externship duties over hanging out.”

You both push off the wall and maneuver the crowd to the large wooden double doors of the exit and descend the stone stairs to the small courtyard. The sun quickly setting causes nearby business signs to flicker on a warm glow of colors up and down the street.

You continue walking down the courtyard and head towards the nearby parking lot and main road; a metro station sign illuminating a portion of the sidewalk.

“Who’d you even get to agree to this anyways?”

Keigo hums and looks down at you from the corner of his eyes.

“You said there was a group,” you run a hand through your hair, now wondering if your appearance is even nice enough to warrant going out. The slight breeze brings small goosebumps to your legs; the pencil skirt and opaque black tights not providing much warmth.

“Oh.. you know them all so don’t worry,” he stops at the escalator entrance to the metro station, “Seriously just relax ok? You look great and you’ll have a great time.”

His touch is gentle on the small of your back as he lets you step onto the moving stair in front of him. You rock back and forth in your kitten heels, balancing on the ridges of the escalator and looking up at Keigo.

“Am I gonna be the only one dressed like this?”

He pulls a pack of gum from his pocket and offers you a piece, throwing up an eyebrow in the process, “Hm? You’re dressed fine. You know, you worry too much.”

You throw the minty gum into your mouth and step off the escalator to scan your transit card at the metro entrance gate, “Couldn’t you just like, fly me home so I could at least drop my briefcase off?”

Keigo follows you past the scanners and towards the platform, he puts his hand out to hold your bag without even saying a word. You scoff and roll your eyes, but sling the straps off anyways and place the weight in his hand. He flings it over his shoulder and stands at the edge of the platform, watching the tv sign estimate of the next train’s arrival, “That would take too long. Everyone is probably already there.”

You suck the inside of your cheek between your molars and sway on your heels again absentmindedly, only stopping when Keigo’s hand places a weight on your shoulder. Before you can even speak a yellow glow lights up the end of the platform walls and a strong gust blows back your hair and blazer fabric.

His hand only leaves your shoulder once the automatic doors slide open and the glow of the train car’s fluorescent lights pour onto the platform. Keigo steps on the train and maneuvers through a few people to secure a seat for himself and one for you across from him.

*******

The sun has completely set at this point with only the street lights, car headlights, and neon business signs glowing warmly onto the street. The bar in question is nice and secluded, but not in a questionable part of town, just a bit more residential. It’s only a few metro stops away from your friend’s apartment, and you’ve been here with Keigo more times than you can count.

Your heels click softly on the ground as you walk next to him, only stopping at the door to pry your bag open to look for your ID while Keigo holds it open. The bouncer recognizes him right away, giving a soft ‘Hawks’ upon seeing him despite the fact that nearly every time he visits you’re with him as well.

He opens the door for you and the warm air of the bar comfortably surrounds you; the music and chatter a distinct change from the quiet streets outside. It’s crowded, but not uncomfortably. Groups of people surround the billiards table, nearly every bar stool is taken, and the booths by the dance floor seemed mostly filled. It made sense given it’s Friday night.

As you work through a few bodies to approach the bar you give a slight elbow to Keigo, “It’s so dumb, why does he insist on checking my ID every time? It’s not like he hasn’t seen us both here before a million times.”

He laughs and guides you through a few bodies before pulling out two empty bar stools for you both to sit at, “It would be hard for anyone to forget this face.”

You roll your eyes and spin in the chair to face the bartender, your left hand now cradling your head while Keigo sits closely on your right side, “shut up…”

He laughs and shakes your shoulder, “Oh come on. Here, let me get us some shots,” he pauses and examines you for a moment, “wait, have you eaten yet?”

You shrug and look at bottles behind the bartender, trying to determine what shot you wanted, “Umm a few hours ago. Why don’t we just get food after? It always tastes better anyways.”

He snaps his fingers and hums, “Ohh ok ok. Sounds good, just don’t go getting shitfaced beforehand.”

You scoff and wave your hand at him, “Yea, yea… tequila?”

He smiles and leans on the counter, getting the bartender's attention while you survey the bar. Most are local residents and college kids but you spot a few groups of police officers and heroes in the back booths. Shifting in your seat to get a better view, you can make out the faces of Kayama (midnight), Tsukauchi, and Toshinori. With one more tilt of your head you then spot Yamada (present mic) and Aizawa..

You spin in your barseat abruptly and nearly bump the lime in Keigo’s hands onto the counter. He pulls his hands back and furrows his eyebrows, “Hey watch out I almost-”

His gaze follows yours and you frantically look anywhere else and claw at him to not be so obvious.

“Ohhh I see,” The biggest shit-eaitng grin spreading across his face.

You sink your face into your palms, not bothering to worry if it smudges your makeup, “Shut up.”

Keigo keeps looking at Aizawa for an extra moment before spinning back towards you and kicking you gently under the bar counter.

“To be fair, I didn’t even think he was gonna show,” he slides a shot glass over to you with his left hand, the limes sitting in his right.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was gonna be here?”

You take the shot glass and stare down at the liquid before Keigo slides a lime in your right hand.

“Ok so bad news, no salt.”

You glare at him, obviously there was worse news than that right now.

“He hates me.”

Keigo rolls his eyes, getting impatient and wanting to drink already, “He does not. He’s like that with everyone,” he lifts his shot glass up right below his lips, gently guiding your hand holding yours to mirror the position. “Now let’s drink already.”

You give him one last glance before downing the liquid with an intense grimace, the fire burning down your throat. You place the shot glass back on the counter and sink your teeth into the lime, letting the sour juice mask the intensity of the alcohol.

Keigo exhales roughly and sticks out his tongue slightly with a contorted face, “oh my g-,” he coughs before he can get words entirely out. The disruption causes a few heads to turn, but people return back to their conversations a moment later.

You peel the lime from your lips and shake your head lightly, “Ok, maybe a different brand next time.”

You wince and pop the lime into the empty shot glass then slide it back towards the bartender and before you can turn to Keigo, his hand is wiping a napkin on your chin.

“Jeez you made a mess-”

You scowl and take the paper from his hands to wipe your face but raise an eyebrow at his sudden shiver. His shoulders roll forward uncomfortably and he arches his spine like cold water got dumped on his back. Before you can ask if he’s alright, he sits back up and shakes his head, “Ugh, sorry. I just had, like a weird feeling or something.”

Laughter pours out from somewhere behind you, the patrons and heroes in the booths now blocked by the other customers in the bar. He shrugs and shakes his head, “Ok, another?”

“Honestly, yea.. I’m gonna need it if he’s here.”

Keigo rolls his eyes and holds up two fingers to the bartender, though he motions towards a different bottle on the rack this time, “Come on Y/N. He’s just got a stick up his ass, though maybe you could remov-”

“Augh, no. I don’t even have his phone number let alone a chance of anything besides being barely colleagues. He’s even left the room the moment I entered, and I was only at UA to help him prosecute one of the villains he caught. He even mumbled about being ‘unable to work with me’.”

“That didn’t happen.”

“I literally couldn’t forget it even if I tried.”

Keigo sniffs the new shot glass and makes a face in between ‘not good, but not bad’ and slides one over to you, “Your quirk is remember what you saw not what he said.”

You hunch over the shot and take a fresh lime from his hand, “It’s the same vibe though.”

Keigo throws the shot back with less of a dramatic reaction than before and digs his canines into the lime, “And yet you still have a thing for him? Kinda weird if you ask me.”

You follow suit in taking the shot and draining the juice from lime onto your tongue before frustratingly shaking your head, “I don’t!”

He raises an eyebrow with a deadpan.

“Ok, I don’t know why. I just do.”

Keigo stands up from the barstool and takes your briefcase, ready to join the rest of the group, “You just need to go on a date and stop hanging out with so many pencil pushers; it’s messing you up.”

With a hop off the stool, you straighten your skirt and follow him into the crowd of people, only weaving through a few groups before you approach the booth with everyone sitting and now looking up at you and Keigo expectedly.

“Hey! You guys made it!” Yamada booms from his position in the booth against the wall.

Keigo smiles and examines the seating arrangement. On the left booth, in the order from the wall to the dancefloor is Kayama, Toshinori, and Tsukauchi. On the right, from the wall out is Yamada and Aizawa.

You look at Keigo in a ‘don't’ you dare’ while he smirks back at you and slides next to Toshinori, leaving you sitting across from him and next to Aizawa. The wooden back of the booth creates an awkward angle and you arch forward to keep an upright position.

Kayama takes a sip from her drink and leans on the table, “We were just talking about the upcoming recess. Us teachers will have a week off with no school, not that it would apply to you guys though.”

There’s a pitcher on the table of a generic looking pale beer; Keigo makes a face asking permission and Tsukauchi gives a nod of approval. He pours you each a pint and you raise an eyebrow.

“Woa, letting loose tonight?”

Keigo smiles at Yamada and clinks his glass to yours, “Just celebrating the company.”

Aizawa shifts slightly beside you and takes a sip from his own drink, avoiding any comment in the conversation. His eyes linger in a scowl on Keigo for a moment before turning his attention to Yamada.

You stare at Keigo and silently curse him with your eyes for the seating arrangement while he leans back into the seat with the rim of his glass resting on his lower lips, enjoying the show in front of him.

“Why don’t we play a game everyone?”

The group turns to your friend waiting for him to elaborate.

“Just a simple drinking game, maybe… King’s Cup?

Tsukauchi rolls his eyes slightly. “That’s a bit childish no?”

Kayama smiles wide, “Oh it’ll be fun! Does anyone have any cards?”

Yamada smirks and slides a pack onto the table without missing a beat and the table erupts into excitement.

You find yourself a bit nervous at the proposal and tug at the collar of your button up shirt in slight heat. His stupid drinking games never end well.

While Yamada begins to shuffle the cards, you shimmy off your blazer, not wanting to spill anything on the overpriced fabric you expect to last you the end of law school.

“I can put it with mine, if you want.”

The voice is deep and curt and enough to make you finally look at the man sitting next to you. Aizawa’s hair tucked back into a half-bun with a few strands framing his face along with his signature 5 o’clock shadow indicating he’s been too tired to shave. He sits casually in a black long sleeve and matching black jeans, extending his hand to take your blazer.

“Oh, sure.. Thanks”

Without speaking, he takes the jacket and nudges Yamada’s arm to place it on the little ledge between the booth and the wall. Aizawa turns back to you once again before sipping on his drink and watching the ministrations ahead of him.

“Alright everyone, basic rules but we can remind each other as we go. Do the task associated with the card and have fun,” Keigo pauses and looks at the group, “Though what should we order to be the ‘king’s cup’.”

Toshinori raises an eyebrow at him meekly and holds his soda with both hands, “King’s cup?”

You sip your beer and lean into the booth, silently wishing a bank would be robbed and the entire table would be called into action.

“Whoever draws the fourth and final king from the deck has to drink it. The beverage can be whatever we want,” Keigo smirks at you, “ though preferably strong.”

You scoff and tilt your head further into the glass. Aizawa shifts in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back into the booth with you; his eyes on Keigo.

Toshinori scratches the back of his head, “Oh I see, I don’t drink though so maybe-”

“You can still drink your soda and play! If you choose the last king, you can decide who drinks it!” Yamada’s voice is as loud as the speaker's blaring music.

The group nods in agreement and you take bigger gulps of your drink, ignoring the way the two previous shots of tequila begin warming your skin further. Within 5 minutes the cards are arranged in a circle around a highball glass of long island iced tea.

“Alright everyone,” Kayama claps her hands, “Let’s start!”

******

It was a bad idea. Such a bad idea.

You’ve maybe been playing for 30 minutes and the entire table is to a point of tipsy that everything someone does is hilarious and no one can finish a sentence without a few slip ups. Toshinori is the only voice of reason, though his deflated self isn’t very convincing when he reminds people to hydrate.

The first round went fine with Yamada losing and downing the king’s cup as if it were water, and the table wasted no effort in upping the ante. The pitchers of beer long empty; now shot glasses and cocktails littered the table with the King’s Cup being a strange concoction of several flavors of vodka, soda water, and orange juice.

“Allllright..” Yamada places his hand on the circle of cards and pulls one out before holding it close to his chest.

Tsuakauchi, who’s a dull red in the cheeks from the alcohol, has relaxed a bit and leans on the table, “Sooo..?”

“4 ….. FLOOR”

Immediately everyone shimmies in their seat to try and touch the floor without being the last one. You pivot from side to side trying to bend over in the booth without lifting your pencil skirt too high. By the time you find a way to lean over, everyone’s hand is already on the floor.

“Ha! Drink up Y/N.”

You scowl at Kayama while squirming into an upright position, both of your faces humming with warmth and flushing from the alcohol. Aizawa waits to grab a card, watching you sip your drink as punishment; coughing slightly, he peels his attention to the table and draws.

“3.. Me.”

His eyebrow twitches as the table howls with laughter at his bad luck. He rolls his eyes and takes a long sip from the jack and coke in his hands, though he watches you in his peripherals.

The table turns its attention to you. You watch Aizawa swallow his beverage and you gulp subconsciously at the sight, too tipsy to realize just how obvious your gaze is. Keigo nudges your shin from under the table and you break your gaze to focus back on the table; the red on your cheeks now from slight embarrassment.

Taking a card, you flip it over and toss it face up, “6 - chicks.”

Kayama smiles and lifts her drink to clink with yours “Yay! I was getting thirsty here ya know.”

Your body hums from the rush and you can feel any decision making skills you have left begin to evaporate out of you. Keigo smiles and leans forward on the table, mirroring your position of resting both elbows on the table, waiting for the next turn.

He flips a card over to reveal the first king, “Ha! Alright I get to make a new rule,” he taps his chin and smirks deviously at you.

“Whenever someone has to drink, the group gets to decide from which cup,” he pauses and looks at Toshinori, “ah but yours will always be nonalcoholic.”

Toshinori gives a thumbs up and the game continuess in a few more circles until your drink is nearly empty and you’ve had a sip from everyone else’s glass at this point. Yamada’s order was a fruity cocktail, Aizawa’s a strong jack and coke, Keigo and Tsukauchi sip on the highest % beer the bar has, and Kayama sips on a long island.

You reach forward to take a card and hold it to your chest to avoid anyone else seeing it first; deciding if it’s a 4 you would have a head start to the ground.

“Heyy you cheater!”

Keigo points at you from the table and swat his hand away while leaning back to avoid him.

“4!”

Instantly you rush to the ground and laugh when you’re the first one to touch, watching Aizawa’s hand reach the bottom last. You discard the card on the table and notice the way he sips his drink, facing the inner corner of the booth and away from you.

Keigo grumbles, though he didn’t even lose, before reaching out and flipping a card over, “Eight - mate.”

Your eyes widen and do their best to look anywhere but your friend, even taking the initiative to lean over and ask Toshinori about how Midoriya’s training was going.

“Y/N~ let’s drink together yea?”

You deflate in your seat and swirl your nearly empty drink in your hands, watching the way Keigo raises his glass to his lips and points at you to do the same. Aizawa doesn’t say anything, and he’s the only one quiet as the rest of the group ‘ooohhhhs’.

Without missing a beat Toshinori reaches forward and flips over a card, revealing the final King. The group’s excitement falters for a moment, everyone hunching over the table looking at the card and then him and then back at the card again.

“You can’t drink it so-”

“You’ll decide who does.”

Yamada finishes Tsukauchi’s sentence and the group looks at Toshinori expectedly; the condensation of the strong cocktail punishment dripping down the glass and onto the table.

Toshinori looks around awkwardly and smiles gently at you, “Well since your drink is nearly empty… maybe you’d like this one?”

It feels like ice down your back and the current buzz of the alcohol already in your system makes you sway side to side in your seat lightly. You blink a few times while the group claps their hands in laughter, all grateful not to be the one to down the beverage.

Your hand grabs the glass and you raise the rim to your lips, taking a small sip before peeling back with a grimace. Everyone but Aizawa continues laughing while you kick Keigo from under the table, “You dick, this is barely anything besides vodka on ice with a splash of orange juice!”

“Drink up!”

Before you can raise the glass again a hand gently grabs your wrist and keeps it still; Aizawa looks focused at you.

“This is a bad idea,,” the table boos slightly but he doesn’t release his grasp, “how many have you had?”

You blink at him, your face flustered from the heat of the bar, the alcohol coursing through your system, and the feeling of him just inches away from your face.

“During the game..?”

“I saw you when you came in initially, you two went up to the bar first.”

When you can’t count the number, Aizawa turns to Keigo and furrows his brows at the man, “How many has she had?”

Keigo sits up before slumping back down on accident and drunkenly blinks at the drink in your hand, “she’s got one drink.”

Aizawa groans and watches you and Keigo become absorbed in conversation.

“No, I've definitely had more than one.”

“Well there’s only one in your hand so..”

“No Keigo,” Aizawa shifts at the sound of his name leaving your lips so casually, “Like before-before.”

“Ohhhh,” he sits upright and remains steady this time, “we each had… two.”

Aizawa releases your hand finally and rubs his temples, doing the math, “So those including the drinks during this game would be… six already,” he points to the glass, “that itself would be another three shots of vodka.”

Keigo huffs and waves Aizawa off, “it’s finee”

Yamada sits forward, “Well don’t you have to drink it with her? You did make yourselves drinking mates.”

The table erupts with laughter and you feel your abs hurting from the acknowledgement; Aizawa remains steady next to you silently, as if he was stone sober despite the tinge of red on his face.

Keigo leans forward and finishes his beer before grabbing the King’s Cup and pouring half of it into his empty glass and handing you the initial cup.

“Well then,” he lifts his glass and leans on the table; you mirror his action, “Cheers.”

********

You wish you could kill the sun.

The blinds of your apartment window open just enough to let sunlight pour into your room and blind your eyes despite them being shut. With a long groan you thrash in your bed, pulling a pillow to your face, then the comforter, before giving up and rolling onto your stomach.

There’s a pounding in your head and a constant feeling of bile in your throat that stirs nausea in your stomach. It’s when you finally find a comfortable position that your phone alarm rings loudly and vibrates on the nightstand next to you.

Can’t the world just fuck off.

It’s impossible to ignore and on the third repeat of the alarm pattern you finally sit up and cancel the notification. You would lay back down if the wave of nausea didn’t immediately bring a familiar acid taste to your mouth and you sprint out of bed into the ensuite bathroom.

You cough and hover over the toilet, letting any residual undigested alcohol out, slightly feeling better when you stand up to flush. After rinsing your mouth with water you sigh at the slight relief of pain in your gut but wince at the ongoing hum inside your skull.

Stepping out of the bathroom’s second door and into the living room you weakly stumble across the cold wooden floors, only now noticing your pajamas of a t-shirt on backwards and university branded sweatpants.

A low hum reverberates and you nearly jump out of your skin before leaving over the back of the couch and staring at a very tired and very hungover Keigo.

“Ugh.. morning”

His voice is so hoarse and dry that he winces as he speaks and resolves to turning over and trying to go back to bed.

You blink wearily and pad over to the kitchen to prepare two glasses of water and a bottle of painkillers. Before you hand Keigo his glass you chug half of your own and lean against the armrest.

He graciously takes the water and you slip your phone out of your pocket while he drinks.

“Oh fuck, I have to be at the campus library soon.”

Keigo hums, letting water drip down his chin without caring and taking large gulps of air when he finally finishes. He takes his head in his hands and rubs his eyes so roughly you’re sure he’s seeing stars, “What.. what even happened last night?”

You raise your glass to your lips and pause, “I can’t remember,”

Keigo nods once before his eyes shoot up and meet yours in worry.

“Oh shit… I can’t remember”

The sentence is spoken like a question as your heart rate spikes and you begin to panic. The only other times your quirk hasn't worked is when you’re extremely shitfaced or when Aizawa happened to look at you while using his erasure.

“Oh fuck. What did we do last night?”

Keigo looks up at you and shrugs, unable to form any words, just as surprised as you are. You set your glass on the coffee table and open your phone, “Maybe I took a video or photos? Something to jog my memor-”

You pause and swipe away a text notification before double taking at the sender.

From: Aizawa Shouta

How are you feeling?

Keigo leans up with a grimace and looks at your phone screen, not understanding until he looks between the device and your face three times back and forth.

“Hey I thought you said you didn’t have his number…?”

You can’t even lift your eyes from the message, “I…didn’t…”

What the FUCK happened last night

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shota x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #anime #fanfic #oatmealwrites #oatmeal aizawa #aizawa x yn

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