#thinking he’s just taking charge of his own fate and all that

[regscupid]

something something stalker james who thinks he’s just a hopeless romantic

[liliacamethyst]

Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)

Sequel to Web of Secrets

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.

Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.

You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”

“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.

“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.

The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.

Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.

And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.

So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.

As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.

You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.

Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”

But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.

He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.

“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.

“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”

“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.

The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.

You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.

“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.

“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.

You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.

You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.

"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.

Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.

As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.

Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.

You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.

In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.

His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.

"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”

He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.

"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."

He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.

"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."

"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.

You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."

“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.

“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”

“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“To be forgotten,” you whisper.

He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.”  He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.

Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.

Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.

He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates. 

Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.

 But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.

But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."

"I know," he replies curtly.

Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"

“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.

There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.

Lyla, for once, remains silent.

3 months later…

Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.

 For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.

The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.

The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.

"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.

He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.

Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.

In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.

As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.

His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.

“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.

“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.

“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.

“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”

“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."

"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.

“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.

“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.

“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.

“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.

The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.

You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”

She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."

You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.

"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.

You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.

"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.

You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."

Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."

You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.

"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"

Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.

"Strange how?" you prod.

"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.

"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.

"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”

Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.

“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.

You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.

Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”

4 months later…

Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.

“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.

“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.

Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.

“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.

“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”

You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.

“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.

You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."

Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”

“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.

“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.

“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.

You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.

Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.

As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him. 

“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.

Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"

Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."

“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”

With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.

1 year later...

One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.

At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.

Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.

Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;

Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.

“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.

Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”

Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.

Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.

“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”

You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.

In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.

“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.

“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.

Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.

Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.

“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.

Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.

Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.

Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.

Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.

Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”

Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."

Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.

"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."

Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?” 

Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."

Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”

Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.

Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.

You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.

"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.

“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.

Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.

Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”

Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”

Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.

As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.

The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.

Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”

Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”

Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.

Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.

Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.

The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.

“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”

Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.

“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”

Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"

a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.

Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM

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[grangerhater]

MINE, ALWAYS

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

synopsis : they are rivals but once they are assigned roommates for a school trip they actually forget to argue about that, surprisingly accepting they have to share a bed.

warnings: rivals w sexual tension, eventual sexual content, (wanrning : plot before p0rn), piv, bj, f!ngering, one bed trope, everyone is above 18 obviously, possessiveness

smut, enemies to lovers, and some fluff if you squint

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and students excitedly disembarked, ready for their annual school trip. Among the bustling crowd, Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N found themselves eyeing each other warily. For years, they had been rivals, their rivalry filled with tension and sparks flying whenever they were in close proximity. This trip was no exception.

Fate had a funny way of working sometimes, and in this instance, it meant that Draco and Y/N found themselves assigned to share a room at the quaint inn where they would be staying. The room was cozy, with a single bed taking up most of the space. When they exchanged glances, they both felt a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of spending the trip in such close quarters.

After settling in, Draco decided to freshen up. He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the room. Y/N took this opportunity to unpack their belongings, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore the butterflies fluttering in their stomach.

Minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled and a towel wrapped securely around his waist. His silver eyes met Y/N's gaze, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes, a longing that neither of them could deny. Y/N felt their heart racing, their body trembling with anticipation.

But just as quickly as the moment had arrived, it vanished, replaced with the familiar tension and bickering that had defined their relationship for so long.

"You're taking up all the space," Draco snapped, eyeing the scattered belongings on the bed.

"Well, maybe if you weren't hogging the bathroom for so long, I wouldn't have had to unpack here," Y/N countered, their voice laced with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Draco rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Always finding something to complain about, aren't you?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk of their own forming. "Well, someone has to keep you in check, Malfoy."

As the trip continued, their bickering continued. Every interaction between them was laced with snarky comments and subtle jabs. But beneath the surface, there was an undeniable chemistry that neither of them could ignore. Every look or touch was charged with unspoken emotion, a tension between them that neither could deny. Even when they fought, there was a deep understanding of each other's feelings that kept them connected throughout the trip.

During a visit to a picturesque village, Draco and Y/N found themselves exploring together. The narrow streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of market vendors, but their focus was solely on each other. They wandered aimlessly, their banter providing a soundtrack to their journey. The tension between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, filling the air with an almost tangible electricity.

As they strolled along, they came across a small park, secluded and peaceful. Unable to resist the lure of the empty benches and serene atmosphere, they sat down, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

"You know," Y/N began, their voice softer than before, "I've always wondered why we seem to clash so much, other than the fact you are a spoiled little prick."

Draco's expression softened, curiosity evident in his eyes. "And what conclusion have you come to, Y/L/N?"

A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "I think it's because we bring out the best in each other, even if we don't always realize it.

Draco's gaze softened, his walls crumbling in the presence of Y/N's vulnerability. "Perhaps you're right. We've always pushed each other to be better, even if we've gone about it in the most antagonistic way possible."

Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they reverted back to their familiar bickering.

"You're still as insufferable as ever, Malfoy," Y/N teased, their voice filled with fondness.

"And you're still as infuriating, Y/L/N," Draco shot back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

But this time, the bickering was laced with something different. It held a hint of affection, a deeper connection that both Draco and Y/N were beginning to acknowledge.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village, they made their way back to the inn. The room awaited them, the single bed serving as a constant reminder of the tension that had simmered between them all day.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, their gaze flickering between Draco and the bed. They took a deep breath, their usual shyness and insecurity being replaced by a newfound confidence. "I suppose we'll have to make do with the sleeping arrangements, won't we, Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire. "I suppose we will, Y/L/N. Still despise your face though, don’t be spreading around that i allowed you to share my bed."

Y/N smirked, rolling their eyes. "Of course, Malfoy. Wouldn't have it any other way."

And so, with a mix of tension, desire, and undeniable chemistry, Draco and Y/N climbed into the single bed, their rivalry and bickering fading into the background. In that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, their hunger finally acknowledged and their connection strengthening.

When only pure silence was heard right before they fell asleep Y/N heard a whisper yell from Malfoy’s side "You think you're so much better than me? You think you're so much smarter? You're just a nosy, stuck-up, know-it-all-Bimbo!"

"At least I'm actually smart enough to understand the concept of 'personal space!' You're just a spoiled, entitled brat who's never had to work for anything in your life!” she replied firmly yet half asleep

Draco's body tensed at Y/N's comment, their bickering reaching a boiling point. His hands wrapped around Y/N's wrists, roughly manhandling them and pulling them close.

"You're so stubborn!" Draco hissed, his breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Do you seriously think I won't do anything if you refuse to listen to me?"

Y/N glared back, struggling against Draco's grip, but unable to break free.

Draco's grip tightened around Y/N's wrists, a possessive glint in his eyes. He leaned inhis lips brushing against Y/N's neck as he whispered "You're mine, Y/N you belong to me" He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin as she moaned in pleasure

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Y/N struggle against him a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered "You know you want this. You want me to take control, to make you mine" With a sudden movement Draco spun Y/N around, pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her bodypinning her wrists above her head as he claimed her lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her body responding to Draco's touch despite her angerHe pulled awaya wicked grin on his face as he leaned in to whisper in her ear once more.

"You're mine, Y/N. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize it" With thatDraco claimed Y/N's lips once more, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire as he asserted his dominance over her once more

Y/N's struggles ceased as Draco's touch sent shivers down her spine. She arched her backpressing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch. Draco's hands roamed over her body tracing every curve and dip, igniting a fire within her.

Their bickering forgotten, they gave into their desires their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Draco's lips met Y/N's, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. He pushed her onto the bed, his hands roaming over her body as he stripped her of her clothes

Draco pushed Y/N against the wall, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. He gripped her hips tightly, grinding his hard cock against her thigh.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite her anger. Draco's hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her flesh as he claimed her as his own.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck as he bit and sucked at her skin, leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's body trembled with desire as Draco's hands roamed over her, his fingers finding their way between her legs.

He teased her, rubbing her clit with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her. As he fingered her, his other hand found its way to her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple until she cried out in pleasure.

He continued to finger her, his pace increasing as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of her, turning her around and pushing her down onto her knees.

He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock and thrusting it into her mouth. Y/N took him eagerly her mouth enveloping him as she worked him with her tongue Draco's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as he fucked her mouth with a fierce hunger.

He pulled out of her mouth pushing her back against the wall and lifting her legs up to wrap around his waist. He thrust into her with a fierce hunger, his body slamming against hers with each movement

Y/N cried out in pleasure, her body writhing against his as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Draco's thrusts became more urgent and intense, his body trembling with desire as he neared his own peak.

As he continued to pound into her, his grip on her throat tightened leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her with a fierce hunger

Their bickering reached a boiling point, with Draco manhandling Y/N and claiming her as his own, he took control making her his in a rough, possessive kiss and teasing her with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her.

Finally, they reached their climax, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as they cried out each other's names. Draco asserted his dominance once more, reminding Y/N that she belonged to him.

Draco's grip on Y/N's body loosened as he pulled out of her, his chest heaving as he looked down at her. Y/N's eyes were closed, her body still trembling with pleasure.

Draco leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "You're mine, Y/N. Always" Y/N opened her eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I know," she murmured, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't want it any other way"

Draco helped Y/N to her feet, holding her close as they stood there, their bodies still intertwined. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down her body as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I could never get enough of you"

Y/N blushed, leaning into him as she whispered back, "I feel the same way about you Draco. I love you"

Draco's eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I love you too, Y/N. Always and forever”

They stood there for a few moments longer, their bodies entwined as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. Finally they pulled apart, their eyes meeting as they smiled at each other

Draco took Y/N's hand, leading her towards the bed. "Come on" he said, his voice low and husky. "Let's get some rest, we have a lot more exploring to do tomorrow"

Y/N smiled, following him to the bed as they settled in for the night, their bodies entwined as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms

[theemporium]

[4.1k] when a last minute team meeting takes them to amsterdam, lando decides to take the opportunity to see what his teammate is like under the influence. (smut)

part two to this blurb that spiralled into landoscar smut somehow

.

It happened in Amsterdam. 

With a new sponsor on the rise and the team desperate to lock down the deal before the new season started, Lando and Oscar were asked to fly out to the Netherlands a few weeks before the car launch. It put a small damper on both men’s winter break plans, the last few days of freedom they had before they dived into work mode for the new season—but ultimately, neither boy complained. 

Oscar had felt bad for having to cancel your plans, knowing how excited you were about planning a few days for the two of you to spend some time alone together—away from the world, away from everyone. In all honesty, it was what he was looking forward to the most. He knew Formula One was different, that he would be busier than he ever had been in his life, but it never prepared him to be away from you for so long. 

So yeah, he was pretty fucking bummed about having to cut the trip out of his plans but he invited you with him to Amsterdam in hopes the two of you could make the best out of a bad situation. 

After all, Zak had only wanted them for a day or two, to just sit in meetings and play up some charm and confidence to give the sponsor the last push they needed to sign the deal with McLaren.

And, by some luck you swore was from a higher power, the deal had been negotiated and signed after a very long, tedious meeting. 

But Oscar didn’t complain, he couldn’t complain when it meant that he would have more time alone with you in a country he never really had the chance to explore beyond the race tracks and most famous sites.

It just seemed like Lando had a similar idea.

“I got the perfect place to check out,” Lando insisted as they walked out of the busy office building they had been stuck in for the last few hours. “Martin recommended it, said it was insane and a necessity to check out when we were in the city.”

Oscar tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, but the boy’s words had him intrigued. “And he’s never taken you before?” 

“Said it was best to visit in the off-season,” Lando replied, and the smile spread across his face did little to reassure Oscar’s suspicions about the mysterious place. “Bring your girl too! She will love it, Oscar. You both will.”

He raised his brows. “And you’re not going to tell me?”

“Be a little adventurous, Piastri,” his teammate teased, lightly nudging his shoulder as they headed towards their team-appointed cars. “Dress nice. We leave at eight.”

“I haven’t even agreed to anything,” Oscar pointed out, but the Brit didn’t seem all too bothered as he waved his teammate off before climbing into his car. 

Truthfully, it shouldn’t have surprised Oscar that you were up for the night out. Lando’s mysterious words intrigued you as much as they intrigued him, and you both trusted Lando enough that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to drag you somewhere dodgy. Hopefully. 

So, Oscar tried to push away the voice in the back of his head that said he should have asked more questions. He was a Formula One driver, he was used to control, he was used to always being the one in charge of his own fate. It felt weird to leave everything in the hands of Lando, even if he trusted his teammate more than he did with most people in his life. 

“Relax,” you murmured to him as you stepped between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders as he waited for Lando to message he was waiting downstairs. “It’s one night.”

“I know, I’m excited,” Oscar answered honestly as his hands rested on the back of your thighs, trying not to think about the pretty, little dress you had slipped on for the night. He could have sworn he had never seen it before. A part of him was tempted to cancel the whole night and stay in to truly appreciate the dress. “It’s just the idea of Lando being in charge of everything…”

“Hm, you say that as though you don’t worship the ground he walks on,” you teased, smiling in amusement at the way his cheeks burned pink.

“I do not!” Oscar grumbled, but he was smiling back. “Okay, I do a little. But it’s Lando…he’s my first teammate in Formula One. He is just—”

“I know,” you murmured with a smile, leaning down to peck his lips. “And he cares about you. So relax and trust the fact that he was excited to check this place out with you.” 

The place in question—the one that Martin insisted Lando needed to check out—turned out to be something straight out of a Bond movie. 

Oscar hadn’t even managed to catch the name when Lando had muttered it to their driver, a giddy smile on his face as he turned back to look at you and Osacr in the back seat. He was excited, buzzing in his seat as he rambled off about random topics could barely even keep up with as he watched the city pass by in a blink through the window. 

It was an exclusive club, not very well-known but a local treasure to those who knew of it. One of those places in movies where you knocked on a steel door and grumbled out a password. The kind of places that you expected to feel dodgy and cautious and like you were making the biggest mistake for stepping into the establishment. One of those places that two high-profile athletes should definitely never be caught in. 

But Lando just turned to him, that stupidly huge grin on his face as he threw an arm over his shoulder and dragged him inside. 

“Relax, Piastri, nobody is gonna care who you are in here!”

And honestly, the thought shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was to him.

But despite the many warnings he received about stepping up as a Formula One driver, Oscar never really wrapped his head around how famous he was. He had his fair share of internet spotlight on him throughout his career, he was used to being recognised every once in a while. But being a Formula One driver—a McLaren one, nonetheless—was a whole new level.

People stopped him in the streets and asked for photos. His face was blasted on huge posters in airports and cities he hadn’t visited before. Every aspect of his life was constantly under a microscope now. He had fans and followers all around the world, not just from his home country. He had a level of fame he couldn’t even conceptualise. 

He had a level of fame he wasn’t even sure he wanted. 

His whole life he just wanted to drive. He just wanted to get behind the wheel and achieve the dream he had been chasing after since he was a young boy. He just wanted to do what he loved, what he had been passionate about since before he could even remember. 

It just came in a package deal with having more attention that he preferred, so the very idea of stepping foot into this exclusive club and nobody caring he was Oscar Piastri? Yeah, that sounded really fucking good.

Your arm wrapped around his biceps as you followed the Brit deeper into the club. It was dark—darker than a usual club—with red-tinted lights surrounding the place, adding a soft hue that was just enough to see a few steps ahead of you. The music thumped through the building, like the bass lived in the walls as it sounded throughout the place. 

There was no bar. And the dance floor wasn’t really a dance floor. It felt like a stage, placed right in the middle of the room for people to ogle and observe. The whole place was surrounded in these dimly lit booths, large enough that they almost felt like a room. 

The whole place was fucking weird and nothing like he expected. 

And maybe that was what thrilled Oscar about the whole situation. 

“Where do we order our drinks?” He had asked as they made their way to the far left corner, the furthest place from the door. The surrounding booths were empty but Lando still chose the one right in the corner as he flopped down onto the large cushioned sofas. 

He watched as you and Oscar took the seat across from him as he grinned. 

Oscar raised his brows. 

“We are in fucking Amsterdam,” Lando snorted, something glinting in his eyes that even the dim, red lights seemed to pick up. “You don’t come here to get shit-faced drunk, Oscar.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You brought us to your dodgy club to get stoned?”

“Best in the city, baby,” Lando said, the smile on his face widening as he leaned back against the cushions, comfortable and settled with his legs spread a little wider than he usually would. “A little birdie told me Oscar was the kind of man you wanted to smoke with.”

Oscar raised his brows. “You sound surprised by that.”

“Let’s just say there aren’t many sides to you that I don’t think I’ve already seen,” Lando answered with a simple shrug before he raised his hand, catching the attention of a waitress Oscar didn’t even notice was walking by.

And maybe it was immoral. Or sneaky. Or whatever you wanted to call it. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most truthful way to experience it but Lando Norris was a fucking curious man and the opportunity fell right into the palm of his hand. Because Logan Sargeant’s words had been ringing in his head like a loop since that night in the club, his eyes being opened to a whole new side of his younger teammate and he wanted to see more. 

He wanted to know who Oscar Piastri was under all the layers he seemed to put up when he was sober.

And with the team dragging them to Amsterdam and Martin having told him about this club with the assurance that it suddenly wouldn’t be plastered over the front page in the morning that they were indulging in recreational drugs before the season started…well, Lando couldn’t just ignore it, could he?

It wasn’t noticeable at first and, for a brief moment, Lando wondered if the American was just pulling his leg about the whole situation. He wondered if Logan had just seen his shock to clingy, touchy Oscar when he was drunk and needy and thought it would be hilarious to just add fuel to the fire that night for his own amusement. 

Because one joint in and Oscar seemed like he had hours ago in the meeting room, dressed in a fancy suit and looking slightly out of his comfort zone. 

But time passed and the edges of his own brain began to feel fuzzy, and Lando started noticing it. He noticed the way Oscar seemed to squirm in his seat, the way his eyes lingered on your mouth as you took a drag from the joint. He noticed the way Oscar’s arm had dropped from around your shoulder to his hand firmly being placed on the bare skin of your thigh instead. He watched as Oscar pressed his body close to yours until there wasn’t an inch of your side that wasn’t touching his.

And then, Oscar was leaning in, his lips skimming past your ear and instantly dropping to your neck like he didn’t even care Lando was there.

Lando couldn’t even bring himself to feel all that guilty as he watched the display, something deep in his gut twisting in desire.

Your eyes fluttered shut as the boy’s lips latched onto your neck, a small sigh leaving your lips as he began to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His hand squeezed your thigh, gripping onto it like it was a lifeline as he continued to kiss lower and lower until his lips were brushing against the fabric of your dress. 

“Oscar,” you murmured as you raised your hand, fingers threaded through his hair but the boy didn’t stop as he nosed the edge of your dress, his lips dangerously close to your cleavage. 

“Want you,” the Aussie murmured, something like a whine sounding from the back of his throat as he nipped the fabric with his teeth. “Please.” 

“Baby,” you choked out a noise, your eyes snapping open like you finally seemed to remember Lando was there. You felt breathless as your eyes met his, the dim light making it difficult to read the expression on his face but you could have sworn you saw something quite like desire in his gaze. “Lando is—”

“Not complaining,” the Brit finished for you, his voice a little rougher and even he wasn’t sure if it was from the smoking or the sight in front of him. 

Oscar blinked as he lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes a little red. He looked at you before he shifted his eyes to Lando, his gaze dragging over his teammate. He should have removed himself from you, should have pulled his hand away and slid away—but he remained exactly where he was. 

“Don’t be shy, Oscar,” Lando murmured, and something in the Aussie’s chest sparked. “You wanna touch your girl, then who am I to stop you from making her feel good.”

“You gonna watch?” Oscar asked. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Lando retorted. 

“No.”

Lando’s smirk slowly widened. “Yeah? You two gonna put on a little show for me?”

Oscar blinked before he turned to look at you. His whole body felt like it was on fire, like there were flames coursing through his veins and burning him alight and he never wanted to stop. But as he looked at you, eyes glossy or not, one word from you and he would stop this whole thing, regardless of his own feelings on the matter.

You were his first priority. You were always his first priority.

“You wanna, baby?” He murmured, just low enough for it to only be heard by the two of you. 

“I think,” you swallowed thickly as your eyes traced over your boyfriend’s face, as the bubbling desire and strong urge to clench your legs together washed over you with the heat of Lando’s gaze on you. “It would be the polite thing to do.” 

Oscar tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Show him how good you make me feel,” you murmured as his grip on your thigh tightened in response. 

And when you couldn’t resist anymore, your eyes snapped over to where Lando was sitting. There was something thrilling about the sight, something your fuzzy brain couldn’t begin to comprehend but your body sure as hell did. There was something about him sitting across from you both, legs spread and eyes focused on the two of you as he watched in silent appreciation. 

It felt dirty. It felt wrong. It felt like the last thing the three of you should be doing in a random club in Amsterdam. And yet, none of you wanted to stop. 

Lando watched in delight the way a choked gasp left your lips as Oscar tugged the neckline of your dress down, as his lips attached to the newly exposed skin. Your hand moved back to thread through his hair, tugging softly as he pulled your dress down until your tits were exposed. 

He watched as Oscar let out a groan at the sight, as his lips wrapped around your nipple. He watched as your head fell back, your boyfriend’s name a breathy moan past your lips as he continued to nuzzle himself between your tits. 

“Would’ve never taken you as a tits man, Oscar.” Lando’s voice was rough and low, something that shouldn’t have made the whole situation hotter but it did. “Can’t blame you though, can I? Your girl has such pretty tits, would be a crime to ignore them.”

A whine sounded from the back of Oscar’s throat. 

Lando’s eyes fell from your flushed face to the hand on your thigh. He watched as Oscar continued to push the hem of your dress further up until he got impatient and allowed his hand to slip beneath the skirt. He watched as Oscar groaned something incoherent against your skin, as you shifted your hips enough for him to pull your panties down your legs with a speed that was almost impressive. 

He hardly had time to blink before he felt the soft thump against his leg, as he looked down to see your panties balled up and now resting on his lap after Oscar had thrown them. 

Lando let out a dark chuckle, his head falling back. “You little shit.” 

But Oscar didn’t pay him any attention. Oscar didn’t pay attention to anything but you and the feeling of you beneath his lips and touch. His brain was fuzzy, his thoughts were muddled and all he knew was that he really, really fucking wanted to taste you. 

Yet, you didn’t seem to share Oscar’s one-track mind.

“Not fair that we’re the only ones who get to have fun,” you murmured, your eyes watching him closely as Lando eyed the pair of panties, seeming to contemplate so many racing thoughts in his head before he reached for them. “Maybe I want a show too.”

Lando’s eyes found yours in the dark. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” it was a little high-pitched as Oscar’s thumb pressed against your clit. “Yeah. Please.”

He let out a groan. “Still so fucking polite when he is all over you.”

You weren’t even sure where the spark of confidence came from—maybe from the way he was watching you and Oscar so eagerly—but your mouth opened before you could stop yourself. “Jealous?” 

“Maybe.”

You swallowed thickly, your fingers tugging on Oscar’s hair as you watched Lando’s hand drop to the obvious bulge in his pants. “Of who?”

His smirk widened. “Both.” 

“Shit,” you whispered, an embarrassingly high-pitched noise leaving your lips as you tore your eyes away from the older driver before your whole body burned up.

“Look what a good boy he is,” Lando commented, watching as Oscar littered soft kisses all over your chest and collarbone as his fingers pressed small circles against your clit. “Barely even touched you and he’s humping the sofa.”

Oscar’s cheeks burned hot.

“Bet he’s obedient,” Lando continued as the sound of a zipper echoed through the booth, as the rustling made it clear to both of you what he was doing. “Such a good listener, aren’t you, Oscar? Just wanna make everyone happy, hm? A team player.” 

Oscar finally lifted his head, his eyes glossed over like he was drunk off lust and desire alone.

“You gonna listen to me, baby?”

He nodded.

“Gonna do what I say?”

He nodded again, his eyes locked on the way Lando palmed himself over his boxers with one hand as he held your panties in the other.

A slow smirk spread across his face. “Get between her legs, baby, I know you’ve been dying for a taste of her probably since she put on that lil’ number.”

And Lando was right. He was obedient. It was almost like his body was moving under a spell as he shifted, as he slid off the couch and settled on his knees on the carpeted floor instead. It should have felt wrong to have his back to Lando, but instead the idea that the boy’s eyes were locked on him whilst he touched himself (even if Oscar couldn’t see) thrilled him more than it should have.

His hands palmed your thighs before he slowly spread your legs, as he pushed the fabric of your dress until it pooled at your hips and exposed you. A whimper left Oscar’s lips as he tugged you closer to the edge, as one hand pushed your thigh back whilst the other guided your leg over his shoulder. 

He looked up at you, his cock twitching in his pants at the silent plea in your eyes for him to do something, to give you what you wanted just as bad as him. And his eyes never left your as he leaned down, tongue pressed against your soaked cunt as he licked upwards in one thick, broad stroke. 

“Fuck!” 

Lando couldn’t help himself as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, as he squeezed the length of himself before pulling his cock free of any restraints. 

Lando couldn’t help himself as the hand fisting your panties wrapped around his cock, as he let the lacy fabric run against his sensitive tip and resisted the urge to buck his hips. 

Lando couldn’t fucking help himself as he stroked his cock, his eyes locked on the way you panted and moaned and grasped the cushions around you as Oscar worked between your legs. 

A part of him wanted to get up, to close the distance between him and you both. He wanted to walk over, he wanted to thread his fingers through Oscar’s hair like you had done before and guide him. He wanted to watch the boy lick and kiss and suck your needy cunt until his face was dripping. He wanted to whisper just what a good fucking boy Oscar really was as he made you come, as Lando watched you come. 

But the other part of him liked this—this twisted sense of power. He liked the fact he could sit back and watch, like it really was a show you two were putting on for him. He liked the idea that this went beyond something any of you understood, the way the two of you were so eager and pliant and obedient for him. 

He liked that he could sit back, your wet panties fisted around his cock as he watched the two of you moan and squirm and desperately try and look pretty for him. 

And you did. You both looked so, so pretty for him. 

And you sounded so pretty too when you moaned out his name instead of your boyfriend’s. The way your back arched off the couch, your face scrunched up in pleasure as Oscar held your hips down. The way Lando could hear the way his teammate was groaning against your pussy, see the way his hips shifted like he desperately needed some friction against his aching cock. 

It was the prettiest fucking sight Lando had ever seen. 

“That’s it, baby,” Lando groaned. “Come for Oscar, let him taste you, yeah?” 

You nodded dumbly, far too lost in your own pleasure to even understand what he was saying. 

“Bet you’re so fucking hard,” Lando continued, his eyes locked on the way the muscles in his back shifted through his shirt. “Bet you could come just from hearing her moan, huh?” 

The whine Oscar let out told Lando everything he needed to know. 

“That’s it,” Lando groaned, his fist tightening around his cock as he felt his stomach clench as he neared the edge, as he neared his own orgasm. “Gotta finish the show f’me, hm? Gonna be good for me, yeah?” 

You chanted out Oscar’s name as you finally came, shaking and squirming as he held your body against the cushions and continued to suck on your sensitive clit. And when you couldn’t take any more, you lightly pushed his head away to see his expression: flushed cheeks, hooded eyes and glossy lips that you wanted to kiss so bad. But a shifting movement caught your eyes, your gaze moving down to look at the dark patch spread across the front of his boxers. 

“Just tasted so good,” Oscar murmured, not even ashamed or embarrassed at the mess he made. 

And then your eyes shifted to look at the boy across the room. 

He leaned back against the cushions, his chest moving up and down with soft pants. His trousers were pushed down to pool mid-thigh, his boxers just above them and his cock was still fisted in his hand, covered by your panties and his own come. It shouldn’t have been so attractive. 

“I think I prefer this Oscar much better than drunk Oscar,” Lando eventually commented, something quite like a smug grin on his face as he looked between you both. 

There was a tension in the room, one that none of your fuzzy brains could really grasp onto just yet. But it was there and it was overwhelming and suffocating and you each had half the mind to hope this night never ended. 

You didn’t know what would happen after tonight, but you knew until then, the hidden club in the depths of Amsterdam would keep your secret—the secret that maybe all three of you wanted something more than a night fuelled by lust and weed. 

.

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!chan, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1420

a/n: my favorite chan is back<33

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

masterlist

loser!chan who was now thoroughly and utterly addicted to you to the point where he couldn't function unless he had his daily dosage of you.

ever since that first encounter, chan knew that he would never get enough of you, but it wasn't until that fated day in which you finally took his virginity that chan knew that he was thoroughly fucked.

he couldn't think of anything but you. during any lulls in class, his mind would go straight to you and all the things the two of you could do together. when he woke up in the middle of the night, it was in a cold sweat as he awoke from a filthy dream about you. even in the moments you were in front of him, in the most innocent of circumstances, his mind would go straight to the gutter.

you had ruined former chan.

after that first time experiencing what it felt like to be with a pretty girl like you, chan had become instantly addicted to the feeling, now constantly seeking you out as much as possible.

he had become a bit of a pervert, in short terms.

instead of you seeking him out, knowing chan was too shy to do it on his own, the dynamic had shifted. now chan would text you asking to come over every other night. he'd occasionally beg you for nudes any time he you were too busy to see him. and the best worst of all had been a few days ago, when you'd caught him sniffing your panties after the two of you had slept together.

chan couldn't lie. he did become a depraved version of himself through the months in which he'd been fooling around with you. it had all just hit a peak when you took his virginity. he now understood why everyone around him was so obsessed with sex. and he believed himself to be insane for not having lost his virginity sooner. except he was thankful he hadn't, because that meant that he now had the most gorgeous girl to please and to please him in return.

at first you seemed surprised by the change, gasping whenever chan would try and take charge and jump you as soon as you stepped into the threshold of his dorm room. but you clearly seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it by teasing him or enticing him into fucking you faster and harder. you'd even left behind a few pairs of panties after having noticed that first missing pair.

~

"m-more, fuck. please ... p-push it back, i need it," he mumbled against your cunt, lazily licking at it from behind.

his arms were holding onto your hips, dragging them against his face as he ate you out.

this was yet another thing chan had recently grown infatuated with – eating you out.

whether it was day or night, chan would take any possible opportunity to get himself between your legs or bend you over in order to get his mouth on your cunt. these escapades would always result in the two of you fucking like animals on the bed, but nowadays chan always insisted in eating you out beforehand.

it was always quite a filthy sight, the way in which he'd still whine and beg for you, even when he didn't get any gratification from the act. crying against your cunt, he'd get more desperate by the minute, forcing you to arch your back more so he could get an even better angle to lick and suckle at you.

like now, as he manhandled you to his desired position in the same fashion of a petulant child, demanding things go his way. you aided him, grinding against his face, only causing him to groan against you yet again.

"cum for me?", he mumbled against you, "wanna taste it so bad ..." he pulled away for a moment, simply staring at your cunt, "its so pretty ... fuck, your cunt's so fucking good to me," he moaned before going back at it even more intensely this time.

it didn't take long for you to cum for him. with the combination of praise and his messy way of eating you out, it was impossible for you to hold back. the worst part was how he moaned and thanked you as he licked every drop of arousal coming out of you. the combination of praise and pleasure made the experience entirely blinding, eventually forcing you to drop on the bed in exhaustion.

he climbed over you, giving you a nasty kiss so you could taste yourself on his tongue.

after months of seeing each other, chan had perfected the art of those messy, wet kisses he loved to share with you so much. sometimes he'd even have to hold back from giving you short and sweet kisses while in public, knowing that his tongue might sneak into your mouth and create a scene of public indecency.

equally as depraved as him, you grabbed onto his hair and pushed his face against your own, moaning as you suckled on his tongue. you made out and felt each other up for some minutes until chan's hands grew too greedy, attempting to flip you over so that he could fuck you from behind.

this was yet another new development in your relationship.

having taken his virginity only some months back, you had shown chan every position you could think of, teaching him the ins and outs in order to optimize his pleasure. as time passed, he became more confident in his ability to fuck you, now often opting to fuck you rather than have you take full control (though he still went crazy any time you manhandled him and rode him all the way to oblivion)

positioning you, he ignored the thought of a condom altogether, having been informed by you that you had a iud and did not feel the need to ever use one with him. chan was yet to know what it was like to fuck with one, and he didn't ever want to find out.

he also learned that he enjoyed teasing you. this would usually take form in him rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds, making you whine and push back against him to get him to slide in.

rubbing himself against you, he hissed at the warmth he felt at barely dipping his tip in a tiny bit. you were always so wet and warm for him. only him. the thought made him push in with no warning, needing to feel the physical manifestation of how much you were his.

groaning at the feeling, he leaned forward, pressing up against your back as he fucked into you. the feeling of naked skin against naked skin was one of his favorite things. he couldn't help but fall in love with the intimacy of it.

"how do you feel s-so fucking good?" he groaned, pace of his hips going crazy against your ass.

"you, channie ... you do this to me. so good. such a good boy," you sighed.

even when he was in control, you managed to take it right back with just your words. your claims of ownership over him along with your praise were things he could no longer live without. he loved that you had been the only person to claim him. he was enamored with the fact.

"y-yeah? i think its you. you gorgeous, gorgeous girl. im yours? y'know what?", he leaned as close to your ear as he could, "you're all mine too."

whining at this, you tightened around him, making him lose his composure yet again. this had been the first time he had rebutted at your usual mumbles of him being your good boy. and he loved it. he loved knowing that even as he was your good boy, you were his pretty girl. his and no one could ever have you again.

continuing to hump against each other like wild animals in heat, your highs came to you at an almost equal speed, optimizing your orgasms all the better.

chan fell limp on the bed, being immediately dragged by you so you could lay by his side and cuddle him like you always did. your aftercare of him always made him cry inside. you took care of him so well, giving him all the affection a boy like him could ever hope for.

the usual i love you's were shared, falling into your slumber without having enough energy to even clean up.

[dilatorywriting]

59 Leona, it'd take a lot for him to admit but he would say it eventually. (Also I know you'd recognize me but I'm shy, so anon it is)

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 59: "People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You are nice, and you are stupid. And those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Sometimes you’re nice because you’re stupid, and sometimes you do stupid things because you’re too nice for your own stupid, stupid good. And it drives Leona half insane.

Which it shouldn’t, because nice, stupid people like you are just as annoying as his brother. Goody-two-shoes with buttoned vests and sparkly, star-shaped stickers on their term papers.

“Did you remember your homework?”

Leona flicked his tail in your face and you scrunched your nose over your notebook.

“Well?”

“Of course I remembered,” he scoffed, lazing back against the roots of one of his favorite trees. This spot used to be so much quieter, so much more peaceful, before you decided to trail after him like a duck quacking for its mother.

“Did you do the homework?” you clarified, and Leona rolled his eyes.

You sighed and starting ruffling around in your bookbag. “I brought a spare copy of the worksheet. You’re going to drive Ruggie insane, y’know. If he winds up stuck with you for another year because you failed for not turning in assignments.”

“Yeah. Sure. Another three-hundred-and-sixty-five days to rifle through my wallet. Worst news of his life.”

You huffed good naturedly and handed him the sheet of crisp, white copy paper and a pen. “Get to work, Kingscholar.”

“Oh?” he drawled, closing his eyes and settling back, loose limbed and all long, lean leisure, against the tree trunk. Clearly ready for an afternoon snooze. “Make me.”

You sighed again and reached over to flick your own well-used pen against his ear. It twitched under your fingers—soft, and tufted. The finest of the pale, tan fur brushing up against your fingertips. “Fine. Be that way. See if I bring you lunch tomorrow.”

“You will,” he scoffed.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sounding resigned and foolishly fond. “I probably will.”

See? Stupid. So easy to manipulate. So willing to let yourself be squashed under his clawed thumb. It was a wonder you’d managed to survive in this school at all. Nevertheless by clinging onto the coattails of someone like him. He’d never made anyone’s existence easier a day in his life, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, just because you were too soft-hearted and slow to see a looming predator for what it was.

“Just give me that stupid fucking paper,” he snapped, sitting upright and swatting away your poking pen with a sneer. You laughed into your palms like a secret—bright, and merry, and dumb as a fucking rock.

“Whatever you say, Leona.”

.

.

You’d handled his Overblot with a strange sort of aplomb that at first Leona had attributed to perhaps a lingering, hidden confidence that he’d just never bothered to unearth. You were just some herbivore, and even the littlest rabbits could bite back when you put them in a corner. But then he’d come to the decision that that easy conviction was just another symptom of your rampant stupidity.

“I know you guys don’t want to hurt me, or any of us. Not really,” you shrugged around a wad of cotton—the blood dripping from your nose slowly drying up to a tacky, sticky dribble. Leona gaped at you outright.

That was your grand explanation. For why you’d been so eager to charge forward when he’d collapsed in a pool of inky nightmares and self-loathing. And the very same reason apparently thatyou’d felt so comfortable rushing forward to treat Azul Ashengrotto’s blubbering, hysterical, breakdown with the same urgency.

“That octo-prick would have ripped you in half,” he sneered, fingers twitching a nervous rhythm against his palms as he watched the nurse wrap another layer or bandages around your head.

You shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

You were going to give him an aneurism.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he snarled, ignoring the horrible, twisty thing curling like bile through his chest. “And I’m not going to bother paying for some self-sacrificing idiot’s funeral.”

Another shrug.

“That’s alright,” you hummed, a soft sort of crooked smile on your mouth. “Would’ve been a waste of money anyways.”

Leona didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Surely because your stupidity had reached such a fever pitch that it was no doubt contagious, and he needed to protect his far superior and more valuable brain. Not because the image of you smiling and nodding along to his declarations that he wouldn’t put the effort into mourning your death had soured something so deep in his gut that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scrape it out.

.

.

When he received a letter from home asking him to return for some shitty coronation nonsense for his equally shitty brother, Leona had debated just skipping it outright. Who was going to stop him? You?

Well. Yes, apparently.

“It sounds important,” you hummed, peering over his shoulder at the neat, formal scrawl of the summons. “You should go.”

He snorted. “I don’t want to be there, they don’t want me to be there. What’s the point.”

You frowned, brow crinkling in the middle.

“Well, that’s not true,” you said, perplexed. “They wouldn’t write to you if that was the case.”

Leona snorted, eyes darting away to glare bitterly off into the corner. “Not like they have a choice.”

“Well then you don’t have a choice either,” you argued, firm. “I’ll go with you. See? It says you can have a plus one. You can camp out in your fancy, princey, bedroom. And I can siphon you snacks from the fancy, princey hors d'oeuvres tables. That way we both win. You get to be a reclusive asshole and rub the fact that that you still went in everyone’s faces, and I can get access to some tasty, royal food that I’ll probably never be able to afford again for the rest of my life.”

“Should’ve known you’d be like Ruggie—only using me for the free food,” he sighed, melodramatic and obviously put on.

“Well, also because I thought you could use the emotional support,” you added, a touch too soft and far too genuine. “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear that bit.”

“You’re right,” he scoffed, turning onto his side to hide the strange, miserable heat pricking at his skin. “Don’t ever say corny shit like that again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you grinned, flicking at his ear, and Leona added another mental tab to his never-ending list of reasons that you were really far too brainless to keep functioning at all.

.

.

You were nice, and you were stupid. And Seven, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“My brother hasn’t ever brought someone to one of these events before,” Falena had said, to your face. Idiot to idiot communication.  

“I didn’t give him much of an option,” you’d chirped, perfectly pleasant. “I don’t think he wants me anywhere near here, to be fair. Or around him in general. But I’m like a cockroach. Can’t get rid of me.”

And Falena had laughed. Because he was terrible. And said, “I’m sure he must care about you very much, little cockroach.”

And then because you were more terrible, you laughed back and said very assuredly, “Oh, not at all.”

Which was—was—

“Do you really think that?” he snapped, once the two of you were alone. And you blinked back at him with wide, owlish eyes.

“Think what?”

Think at all,he wanted to sneer, but just glared silently and bitterly into the middle distance—fighting the nonsensical, irritated swishing of his tail.

But you just kept staring at him. Like he was the moron here. Which was unacceptable.

“Look,” he frowned, sharp and miserable. “I get it. People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you. Whatever gods exist out there were playing a shitty fucking joke on you when they dropped you in my lap. But you’re stuck with me. So stop—” he bit out, fighting that awful, twisty thing in his gut that never seemed to fully go away. “Stop talking like I can’t stand you.”

“…oh,” you mumbled, whisper quiet—that wide, startled gaze flicking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoed, sharp, and you snorted a laugh that seemed to surprise even you.

“You’re stuck with me too then, y’know,” you said after a long moment. “Even when I make you grumpy.”

“You don’t make me grumpy. I am grumpy. You make me—” he cut off quick, eyes darting away petulantly and an absolutely unfair heat rising along his cheekbones.  

“Itchy,” you piped in, and he gaped at you in shock.

“What?”

“You know,” you shrugged, awkward, and reached up to wiggle your fingers. “Cockroach. Many legs. Squirming. Itchy.”

“Never say any of those words again.”

You laughed into your palm—inelegant and a touch too loud. Leona felt his lips quirk.

“Thank you,” you said after a moment, once your giggles were a bit more under control. And leaned forward quick as a whip to press a nervous peck against his cheek. “For being kind to me.”

Kind.

Leona reached up to press a hand against the too-warm skin with a terrible, unfamiliar sensation in his head not unlike the fuzzy, white drone of TV static. And a horrible thought managed to filter its way through the floating, buzzing sensation curling through the whole of him.

Oh, fuck. It is contagious.

.

.

[streetlight11]

The Boy Next Door

Summary: Being friends with a regular customer is great. But finding out that their cute friend turns out to live right next door to you? Sounds like fate to me...

Theme: neighbours au, strangers to lovers

Genre: fluffy

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunk people, clubbing, an elderly falling down but no major injury or death

W/C: 7k

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hihi! I got bored and wrote this with no particular reason. Just saw him on my phone screen one day and felt like writing a fic about him 😅 This wasn't proof read so my apologies if there's any mistakes in my writing. Hope you enjoy! ✨

Today was another day at work as it was a Thursday afternoon. You were just making the coffee orders when your manager said she was going to bank in yesterday’s profits. She would probably take about 2 hours before she comes back so you would be left alone to mend the cafe. She’s done this multiple times because she trusts you and that she knows you are well capable of running the cafe alone.

Although that sounds horrible on your end, you did feel glad that you are indeed able to make all the drinks and foods on your own after working here for almost 4 years. After you had just finished making the order, you pressed the buzzer number. Once the girl had taken her drink and returned the buzzer to you, you went over to the cashier only to see a familiar face.

“Hey… You’re early today?” You asked as Chris smiled at you. Chris is a regular customer here at the cafe you worked at for a few months now and he even became friends with you and your co-worker.

“Hey, yeah. My friends and I wanted to sit somewhere and discuss our next song. Are you alone?”

“Yeah. My manager went to the bank so I’m assuming she won’t be back for quite a while.” You shrugged as he passed you his phone with a whole list of orders. You began to key in the orders while he continued to talk to you.

“Does she do that often? Leave you to mend the cafe alone?"

“Sometimes, yeah.” You sighed.

“But that’s staff abuse, isn’t it?” Chris looked genuinely concerned for you.

“If you think about it, yeah.”

“Aren’t you gonna do anything about it?”

“No? Must I remind you that I need this job?” You chuckled softly and he sighed.

“You can search for other places, Y/N.”

“I know but… I’ve grown to like it here. Minus my manager of course.” You said with a sad frown on your face and he sighed yet again.

“It’s just that… I think you should reconsider changing-” Chris was about to finish his sentence when a guy with dirty blonde hair came over to cut him off.

“Hyung, can I add something to our order?” He asked as you looked back and forth between them.

“Yeah, of course. What do you wanna add?” The guy glances over to you briefly before he whispers into Chris’ ear with his hand covering it and you stifle a laugh. Then, Chris cracks a smile and relays the message to you.

“Can you add one chocolate muffin please?”

“That’ll be an additional $5 charge to the final bill.” You teased, only for the guy to look surprised.

“Just kidding.” You giggled, hearing Chris chuckle while his friend relaxed a little.

“O-Oh…” He whispered quietly to himself.

“He’s cute…” You thought to yourself.

Just then, another guy rushes over to make a change to the order.

“Hi, sorry but can you change the Ice Blended Hazelnut Latte to Iced Mocha? Thank you!” The purple haired guy with adorable cheeks and muscular arms directed his words to you and this made you smile.

“Hi. And sure.” You said, making the change before looking back up to ask, “Any last changes before we proceed to make payment?”

The 3 of them looked at each other before Chris shook his head to you.

“Great.” You smiled at all of them and told Chris the total price. Once he was done paying, you gave the buzzer and receipt to Chris before they went back to their tables. You prepared their drinks while humming to the song on your playlist that was playing through the speakers in the cafe. Meanwhile, Seungmin kept glancing over behind the counter where you were by the espresso machine making the drinks.

Chan noticed this since he was sitting opposite Seungmin so he smiled as he nudged Seungmin’s arm and nodded his head towards you.

“What’s wrong, Seungmo?”

“H-Huh? Nothing, hyung. Was wondering if I should get some pastries to go.” Seungmin made up an excuse as he pretends to listen to the conversation. However, a couple of minutes later, Chan caught him looking over at you again. Suddenly, their buzzer began to buzz indicating that their orders were ready for collection. Changbin was about to stand when Chan stopped him.

“Hey Seungmin? Maybe you should go.” Chan said as the rest began to pick up the situation.

Minho then poked Seungmin’s side to tease him.

“Yeah, go talk to your new crush while you’re at it.” Minho said. Seungmin hissed at him but got up nonetheless. You were just wiping the collection counter when Seungmin came up to you.

“Uh… Here you go. Thanks.” Seungmin said as you smiled at him and took the buzzer from him. The only thing is, there’s two trays for them but only one person to carry. So you decided to offer some help.

“I’ll help you with this tray.” You said as he opened his mouth to say something but you were already leaving the back counter with their second tray. Both of you made your way to the table as Seungmin began to distribute the drinks while Chris helped with the ones on your tray. Once all the drinks and dessert had been placed on the table, you tapped Seungmin’s arm softly to get his attention.

“I can take the tray.” You said and he passed it to you.

“Um, thank you.” Seungmin gave you a small smile which you couldn’t help but return.

“No worries. Enjoy your drinks.” You politely said before you walked off.

The minute Seungmin sits down, Hyunjin and Changbin began to tease him in a good way. Seungmin could only brush them off and occasionally threaten them to shut up and it worked. They stayed at the cafe for about two hours or so, discussing their new song.

You were busy the entire two hours with the cleaning and making orders but it was still manageable.

About 10 minutes ago, your manager came back when there was a queue at the cashier. She didn’t bother to help as she went directly into the back room to do god knows what. You handled the orders as best as you could without her help. Not like she’s ever been much help all these while anyways. Not too long after, your co-workers who were working the evening shift just came and they both quickly put their bags down on top of the fridge and helped to make the drinks before they could even take their aprons.

After all the orders were completed and the last customer had taken her drink, only then did they let out a sigh and talked to you.

“Where’s Manager-nim?” Jimin asked, looking around.

“In the back room. She went to the bank 2 hours ago and she just came back like 15 minutes before you guys arrived?” You explained and they scoffed.

“She’s a nightmare. I don’t understand how she’s even a manager.” Jungkook said with a disgusted face and you laughed.

“Well, while you’re both taking your aprons, you can go say hi to her.” You teased them, only for Jungkook to pinch your side and you squeaked.

Another 30 minutes passed, your shift had just ended. Your manager had already left work unusually early, not like you guys cared anyway. You went to the back to change out of your uniform and wore the clothes you did when you came to work this morning. After you’ve kept your uniform in your bag, you leave the back room to say bye to your colleagues. Jimin was making his iced tea while Jungkook was just leaning against the counter and talking to Jimin.

You walked over to steal a bite of Jungkook’s apple pie and he scoffed at you.

“Excuse me, Missy? Go get your own pie.” Jungkook said with a growing smile on his face.

“Nah. I love stealing yours.” He laughed as Jimin poured the tea into the cup filled with ice cubes.

“You’re working tomorrow right?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah, morning shift again.”

“Are you doing anything at night?”

“Hmm, I don’t have any plans if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Jungkook and I are planning to go to the club tomorrow night. Wanna come?���

“Why should I? You’re both just gonna get drunk and go hook up with someone halfway through, leaving me all alone.”

“Nah. I don’t do hookups anymore. I’ve changed.” Jungkook says proudly but you could only giggle.

“Yeah right.” You said as Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly to you.

“Fine. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” You said before turning to leave, not forgetting to wave goodbye to them. As you were leaving the back counter, Chris and his friends were leaving the cafe as well.

“Oh Y/N. You’re leaving too?” Chris asked.

“Yeap.” You smiled at him, only for your eyes to naturally glide over to the blonde guy from earlier who was just behind Chris.

“So I’m guessing you’re heading home right now?” Chris asked, making you nod.

“Yeah. Gotta feed my parrot.”

“You have a parrot?” Seungmin asks curiously and you nod.

“Mhm! I’ve had him for 3 years now.”

“Oh, that’s nice. What’s the breed?”

“He’s an Indian Ringneck parrot.” You said as you showed them your phone wallpaper which was a picture of your parrot.

“Oh, he’s so cute!” Chris squeaked.

“Does he have a name?” Seungmin asked.

“His name is Zico! You guys should meet him one day.” You naturally blurt out this suggestion which kind of surprises him a little. Chris, not so much since he’s known you a little longer than Seungmin did.

“That would be nice. Maybe one day.” Chris smiled at you. Just then, you turned to Seungmin who had a soft smile on his face.

“I’d love to meet your parrot some day.” He said softly which made you smile. You then bid them goodbye since you would be parting ways now. You didn’t forget to say goodbye directly to Seungmin before you left and this woke the butterflies in his stomach.

The following day after work, you went home and suddenly remembered the proposal Jimin had offered you yesterday. It would be nice to just relax and cuddle up on your sofa alone at home, watching your favourite movies. However, going out to spend the night with two of your close buddies from work also sounds nice. Therefore, you decided to go ahead with the plan. You told them you’ll meet them there and so they got excited. You picked out your outfit which was a simple black sleeveless dress with strings to hold the back material together.

You paired it with a simple 3 inch heel so your feet don't hurt. When you made it to the club, you struggled to find your friends at first. But when you did, you caught them chilling at the bar. So you slinged your arms over the outer shoulders so that you would be in between them.

“Hi, handsome. Ready to party?” You asked and they smirked. Jungkook openly checks you out as he winked at you playfully.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Jimin said and you cheered. For the next 40 minutes, you drank a whole glass of Daiquiri and were now dancing on the dancefloor with them both. Jimin was standing in front of you while Jungkook was behind you.

They were your human shields from other drunk people who prey on drunk girls in the club. You held both Jimin’s hands as you danced with him to the song. Meanwhile, Jungkook was just moving to the beat behind you when suddenly, the song changed into a romantic but slightly slower beat. Jimin let go of your hands while he slowly got immersed in the song. You were just closing your eyes, allowing your body to move with the rhythm of the song when you felt a pair of hands sliding onto your waist and over your stomach.

You glance down to see Jungkook’s full right sleeve tattooed arm wrapping around your body while he pulls you into a back hug. He pressed his cheek against the side of your head only to say something in your ear.

“Whoever you date next, will be the luckiest guy on this earth.” You smiled as you pulled away only to find him smiling at you. He danced with you for a bit before the song changed again. After another hour or so, all 3 of you decided to go home and call it a night. Jungkook made sure to send you back home to your doorstep which you appreciated so much.

He unlocked your apartment door for you and brought you inside, removing your heels by the door and led you to your bedroom. Jungkook made sure to tuck you in before he wished you goodnight softly and made his way out of your apartment. He had just locked your front door just before he slammed your door shut and twisted the knob to make sure it was really locked when he turned around to find a guy walking past him. The guy flashed him a small smile and Jungkook did the same. Jungkook strolls slowly back to the lift lobby, stumbling a bit in his walk but was quick to recover.

Seungmin watched him walk to the lift lobby as he then glanced over at your door, not knowing that you lived there. Nevertheless, Seungmin enters his apartment which is right next to yours.

A week had passed and it was a Sunday afternoon. You were going to run some errands so you prepared to leave. You had just opened your door to leave when Chris shocked you.

“Y/N?! You live here?” Chris asked.

“Apparently…” You laughed as the rest of his friends were behind him only to walk around him while exchanging their hellos with you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as you locked your door.

“We were going to just hang out at Seungmin’s place today.” Upon hearing that name, you turned around confused.

“Seungmin?”

As soon as you said his name, the door next to you opened and Seungmin peeked his head out from the doorway. He was surprised to see you but still greeted you nonetheless.

“Y-You… Hi?”

“Uh, hey!” You said with a smile on your face.

“She lives here, Seungmo. Didn’t you know?” Chris asked, only for him to shake his head.

“We’ve never bumped into each other before, hyung.”

“Really?! That’s so weird.” Chris said but then Felix joins in.

“Well, it seems like it’s fate.” Felix giggled as he rushed into his friend’s apartment while Seungmin was left standing there awkwardly blushing. You couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he looked.

“Since you guys live right next to each other, you guys can hang out more often.” Chris wiggles his eyebrows at you and Seungmin cheekily.

“Yeah. That would be nice.” You said while Seungmin glared at his friend.

“Okay then. I shall leave you guys to it. See you around Seungmin… And I’ll see you at the cafe, Chris.” You laughed as he did the same but nodded to your words. They briefly watched you leave before Seungmin grabbed Chan by his arm and forced him into his apartment.

“What are you doing, hyung?! Are you crazy?” Seungmin grumbles while Chan removes his shoes to join the others in the living room.

“Relax Seungmin, I’m doing you a favour.”

“What favour is there to do if she already has a boyfriend?” Seungmin asked and the rest of them went silent.

“Boyfriend? What are you talking about?” Chan asked, slightly confused. Seungmin sighed, feeling a little hesitant to tell them but he did anyway.

“Last weekend, when I was about to reach my apartment, I caught that guy who works with her leaving her apartment. He looked a little tipsy when he left too.” Seungmin sighed as he plops down next to Jeongin.

“Which guy?” Chan asks since he knows a lot about you at this point.

“He’s the one with the full sleeve tattoo on his right arm.” Immediately, Chan lets out a relieved sigh.

“Oh, Jungkookie… They’re just friends. He’s quite touchy with almost everyone he’s close with. But Y/N once told me that Jungkook and her are just very close friends, nothing more. So don’t worry. He’s not her boyfriend. You’re still safe to continue.” Chan encouraged Seungmin while the others did the same as well.

“W-What if you’re wrong? What if they decided to date each other now? What if she’s not telling you the truth? What if-” Seungmin was about to go on about his questions when Hyunjin stopped him.

“Kim Seungmin… Just ask her out. You can’t just assume things without getting a proper answer. Ask her out and see what she says. If she rejects you then maybe she is dating someone. If she accepts then hey? That’s one step closer for you.”

“Yeah, Seungmin ah. Just go for it. You wouldn’t know if you haven’t tried.” Jisung said as Seungmin let out a soft sigh, knowing his friends were right. He was afraid of getting rejected but at least he’ll get his answer on whether you’re single or unavailable. Then from there he could decide whether to go on or not.

A couple of days later, you were working as usual when you saw Seungmin enter the cafe alone. You didn’t expect to see him here because normally, it would be Chris who walks into the cafe at this hour. Nonetheless, when he meets your eyes, you flash him a warm smile.

“Hi.” You greeted softly and he grins at you adorably.

“H-Hi.”

“What can I get for you today?” You asked as he glanced over at the fridge to point at one of the cakes before looking back at you.

“I’ll have a cheesecake and one iced vanilla latte to go, please? Thank you.” Seungmin said and you keyed in his order.

“Anything else?”

He shook his head and you proceeded with the payment. After he had paid for his order, you gave him the receipt and he went over to wait by the collection counter. While you were preparing his order, Seungmin couldn’t hide his nervousness so he texted Chan.

Seungmin [sent at 2:13 pm]: I can’t do it

Chanie Hyung [read at 2:13 pm]: What?!

Chanie Hyung [read at 2:13 pm]: Don’t you dare back out now, Kim Seungmin >:(

Seungmin [sent at 2:14 pm]: What if she says no?

Chanie Hyung [read at 2:14 pm]: You haven’t even tried asking, how would you know she’ll say no?

Seungmin [sent at 2:15 pm]: Shit, she’s almost done. Hyung I can’t do it…

Chanie Hyung [read at 2:16 pm]: Seungmo, you’re gonna regret not asking her out afterwards… Trust me. There’s no harm in asking…

As Seungmin tries to process Chan’s last message, you gently call his name to get his attention. You slide the bag which has his drink and the cake in a small box towards him with a smile.

“Thanks for coming. Have a good weekend.” You said to him.

Seungmin simply flashed you a small shy smile before he thanked you and took the bag from you. Seungmin was about to open his mouth but then he saw Jungkook leaving the back room while tying his apron string around his back. With that being said, Seungmin left without a second thought and this somehow disappoints you a little. After he left in a rush, Jungkook pokes your side and questions.

“Who was that? Your friend?” Jungkook asked casually as he removed the portafilter from the coffee machine and gently slammed it upside down by the handle to remove the used ground coffee into the bin.

“He’s Chris’ friend actually and apparently my neighbour too.” You chuckled while he wiped the filter with a towel to clean the leftover coffee grounds.

“Oh right. He lives right next to you. I think I bumped into him that night when I sent you home after we went to the club with Jimin hyung.”

“You did?” Your voice was soft now as he nodded.

“He probably thinks I’m your boyfriend or date.”

“Well, if you saw a random guy leaving your crush’s place and is slightly tipsy, you would assume they at least hooked up.”

“Fair point. But hey, I can tell him we aren’t a thing if he ever swings by again. He probably has a crush on you.” Jungkook teased with a cheeky smirk on his face. You could say something but you didn’t wanna sound like a fool so you opted to continue with your work. You were currently seated on the floor in front of the bottom fridge, keeping the new stock of milk cartons when Jungkook’s voice catches your attention.

“Hey Cinderella, someone’s looking for you.” Jungkook said from the coffee machine with a smirk and this terrifies you. So you closed the fridge and stood up, only to be met with Seungmin.

“Hey? Did I make a mistake with your order?” You asked, only for him to shake his head.

“A-Actually, no. I um… I came back cause I wanted to… Well, I was wondering if you were free later tonight. I-It’s okay if you’re not. You don’t have to say yes.” Seungmin stuttered and from his shaky voice, you could tell he was nervous. But his simple courage to even come back and ask you this was really admirable.

“Yeah. I’m free tonight. I end at 5.” You said and he seemed shocked.

“Oh.” He paused as if to process your answer.

“Uh… Great? I’ll knock on your door at 8?” He continued from where he left off.

“Sure.” You smiled.

Finally, his lips curled up into a smile that leaves your heart fluttering.

“Alright then… See you later.” He said as you bid him goodbye. After he left, Jungkook squeaked whilst turning off the steaming wand.

“Finally! You scored a date!” Jungkook said happily as you laughed.

“Shut up, silly.” You said before going back to what you were doing previously.

Hours later, you were getting nervous for your date. You tried to pull up a nice outfit to wear instead of your usual jeans and hoodie. It took you almost an hour to decide on what to wear. In which you finally chose a black denim mid thigh skirt, a white long sleeve fitting top and a pair of white sneakers to finish off your look. This wasn’t your usual outfit so you think it was somewhat decent. When the clock strikes 8 o’clock, your door receives a few knocks and this triggers your nervous heart. Nevertheless, you went to the door and opened it, only to find Seungmin standing there looking twice as handsome as he normally does.

He wore a black shirt, a varsity jacket, a pair of jeans and a pair of sneakers. His hair was blonde and long enough to fall past his eyes. The minute you opened the door, Seungmin couldn’t help but give you one quick glance from head to toe before meeting your eyes again shyly.

“Hi… Y-You look really nice.” He said, making you blush.

“Thanks. I could say the same for you too.” You said and this time, it was his turn to blush.

“Shall we go?”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Seungmin said and this sparked your curiosity. You locked your door and soon left with him. He brought you to his car as he drove off without telling you the destination. In the car, you bonded with him and got to know more about each other. Everything was going smoothly so far and you were so happy. He brought you to a Korean BBQ restaurant and you were excited for the beef.

Dinner went well as you found yourself being comfortable around him. He was very gentle and calm around you, making you relax and not have to pretend to like being with him. After dinner, he drove you to a lookout point where you both sat on the hood of his car, admiring the stars in the night sky while you talked to him more. Though you never really opened up to him completely about your private life, he never forced it out of you also.

Simply out of respect since you two were only just starting to get to know each other anyway. About an hour or so, both of you decided to call it a night. When you made it outside your door, he made sure to thank you for tonight.

“Thank you for agreeing to hang out with me tonight. I really enjoyed it.” He says.

“No worries. I really like it too… And I don’t mind doing this again.” You gave him the hint which thankfully, he caught.

“Really?” He asked and so you nod.

“Then in that case… Do you have any plans next Saturday?” You asked.

“Hmm, that depends… Do you wanna schedule a plan for us next week?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great. I’ll see you next week then. Does 2pm sound good to you?” He asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Alright then. I’ll see you next week at 2pm. Goodnight Y/N.” He smiles.

“Goodnight Seungmin.” You smiled, turning to unlock your door and enter your apartment. He internally cheers for himself before heading into his apartment. He made sure to update his friends about his date and also the upcoming one. Only for his friends to freak out and encourage him to keep pushing forward.

For the next few weeks, you’ve been on a couple of dates with Seungmin but neither one of you have actually gone past the simple hand holding and slight cuddles. No one has been brave enough to kiss the other. The feelings were mutual and they were there. However, kissing the other person was just too nerve wracking to think about, let alone do it. Today was going to be your 8th date with Seungmin and you planned to somehow kiss him. Maybe just a peck at least. You had planned it all in your head, playing out the scenario to see if it would turn out okay or weird.

It’s been about 2 hours into your date where you were just chilling on his sofa when you received a phone call from your mum. So you picked it up instantly without a doubt.

“Hi mum!” You said cheerily into the call but all you heard was your mum’s frantic voice.

“Y/N. Come home quick. Grandma just fell in the toilet and we’re heading to the hospital now. She’s not in good shape…”

“What? O-Okay! I’ll come now.” You said as you had a tear roll down your cheek and he saw.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Seungmin asked and you quickly got up to leave but he stopped you.

“Hey? Is everything okay?” Seungmin asked as he gently held your wrist and caressed it with his thumb.

“Y-Yeah. I’m so sorry but we have to postpone the date. I’m really sorry, Seungmin.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You don’t have to apologise. But, you sound like you’re heading somewhere. Do you need a ride?”

“I-I… I can get an uber. I don’t wanna trouble you.”

“No, please. I insist.” He said kindly and you were hesitant.

“But it’s a 2 hour drive from here…” You said and he smiled.

“At least you won’t be alone on your way there.” Seungmin said and your heart instantly melts for him.

“A-Are you sure?” You asked just to double confirm since you weren’t forcing him to take you to your destination.

“Absolutely. Come on. Go grab whatever you need and we’ll head out.” Seungmin says and you couldn’t help but lunge yourself onto him. You wrapped your arms around his waist as you buried your head in his chest.

“Thank you so much…” You whispered and he heard you. So he gently wrapped his arms around your shoulders to hold you for a bit before letting you go.

“Don’t mention it.” Seungmin smiles down at you as you both leave his apartment.

You went back to yours to quickly grab your belongings and soon left after locking your apartment door. Half an hour into the drive, neither of you were talking while the music played softly in the background. You have been texting your mum for the past few minutes to get an update on your grandma. Which he gave you the privacy to do so. When suddenly, you spoke up and Seungmin glanced at you briefly before he focused his eyes back on the road.

“My grandma fell down earlier and my parents are rushing her to the hospital…” Your voice was soft.

“I’m so sorry… Did they make it to the hospital?”

“Yeah. She’s in the A&E now, with the doctors.” You stared at your phone, unable to hide your emotions. Seungmin gently reaches over to scoop one of your hands. He tangles his fingers with yours while he rubs soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumbs.

“She’ll be okay.” Seungmin said, looking at you briefly only to catch a growing small smile on your face despite the tears in your eyes.

“I hope so.” You whispered and he turned back to the road. Through the entire drive, you held his hand in yours on your lap for comfort. The drive was surprisingly faster than you thought but thankful to have made it to the hospital safely. You rushed into the building after texting your mum for updates. When you make it to the ward, Seungmin trails behind you as you open the isolation ward door to find your parents on either side of the bed while your grandma lays there with a hip brace.

“Grandma!” You called as you rushed over to them. You cried upon seeing her there with a weak smile on her face.

“Hi my dear. How are you?” She asked.

“Why are you asking me? I should be the one asking you that question.” You said sadly and she chuckled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart.” She says, making you sigh. Just then, your dad spoke up to acknowledge Seungmin as he came to stand next to your dad after bowing to him politely.

“Oh, hello son. You are?” You dad asked.

“Hi Sir. Um, I’m Seungmin. Y/N’s friend.”

“We were hanging out when mum called and he kindly offered to drive me here.” You explained to your parents only for them to feel thankful.

“Really? Oh how nice of you, dear. So sorry to trouble you to come all the way here.” Your mum said.

“It’s fine, Ma’am. I saw how shaken up she got after she received the call so I didn’t feel good to leave her on her own.” Seungmin said.

“Thank you for being here for my daughter.” Your dad said and Seungmin smiled.

The four of you spent the next hour there before your parents told you to head home. You frowned as you said you wanted to stay over back at your old home with them so you could come and visit your grandma for the next few days.

“What about Seungmin?” Your mum asked as you both turned to look at your dad talking to Seungmin by the door, a few metres away from you and your mum.

Seungmin did send you all the way here on a 2 hour drive because he didn’t want to let you be alone. So wouldn’t it be selfish if you told him to drive back home for 2 hours on his own now?

“Will you and dad be okay if he stayed with us for a couple days more before we head back?” You asked and she smiled.

“Of course sweetie. Besides, it wouldn’t be nice if you sent him home now after all that he’s done for you.”

“I know… Okay, I'll go and ask him.” You said as you got up and made your way over to him and your dad.

“Hey dad? I was thinking of staying with you and mum for a couple of days so I could come here and visit grandma.”

“Of course you can sweetie.” Your dad said before you glanced at Seungmin and then back at your dad.

“And I was wondering if you’ll be okay with Seungmin staying with us too before we head back together?”

Seungmin’s jaw drops slightly while your dad smiles, “Definitely.”

“B-But I-” Seungmin didn't finish his sentence when you cut him off.

“You offered to drive me here for 2 hours just so I wouldn’t be alone. I can’t just tell you to drive back home for another 2 hours on your own now. That’s unfair.” You smiled at him.

Meanwhile, your dad was just silently watching from the side with a fond smile on his face. Seungmin was shy but he knew you had a valid point. So he decided to agree with your offer. With that being said, you stayed for a little while more before all 4 of you made your way back to your old home. Your mum prepared the guest room quickly before she showed him to the room on the ground level next to the laundry room. Seungmin thanked your mum as he went inside to make himself comfortable.

In the meantime, you went through your closet to try and dig out whatever mens clothing that you bought for yourself to lend to him during his stay here. You came back down to find him sitting on the bed just staring at the window. So you knocked on the door softly to not startle him.

“Hey… You okay?” You asked and he smiled.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Seungmin said before you walked in to pass him the clothes. He carefully took them from you and placed it next to him. You sat down beside him as you softly spoke up.

“You don’t have to stay if you have important things to do back home like work. I just felt bad if I told you to go back now after you’ve driven me all the way here.”

“It’s okay. I can just call in sick. They’ll understand.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to hold you back.”

“Don’t worry. I want to stay.” Seungmin said, awakening the butterflies in your stomach.

“Okay…” You whispered to him.

He glanced down at your lips briefly and you caught him. Seungmin then looked back into your eyes and gave you a gentle smile.

“You should get some rest.” He said, making you nod.

With that being said, you wished him goodnight and was on your way back to your room upstairs. A few hours went by and you couldn’t really sleep. You had a lot on your mind, especially thinking about your grandma. You sighed as you turned to the clock on your bedside table to see that it was half past midnight. You wondered if Seungmin was already asleep but you didn’t want to text him. So you got out of bed and tip-toed your way down the stairs. You carefully walked over to the guest room to see the door closed.

You hesitate at first, knowing you shouldn’t disturb him. But at that moment, you were yearning for his comfort so you decided to try your luck. You went up to his door and gave it two very soft knocks. You told yourself to wait for 3 seconds and if you got no reply, then you should just head back upstairs. However, before you could count to 2, the door swung open slightly and he looked wide awake.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you asleep yet?” He asked gently to which you bashfully smiled at him.

“U-Uh, I can’t sleep… Was I disturbing you? I’m so sorry.” You said but he shook his head and pulled the door open wider.

“No, you weren’t actually. Do you wanna come inside?” He asked and so you nodded. You walked towards his bed while he closed the door quietly before joining you.

“What were you doing before I came?” You asked.

“I was actually about to text you to ask if you had any spare charger that I could borrow.”

“Oh. I do. Let me go get it. It’s in the living room.” You said and he patiently waits for you. 2 minutes later, you came back with a charger in your hand and plugged it to the socket next to his bed.

“Thanks.” He says before plugging his phone in. You were about to leave, thinking you'd already disturbed him enough when he spoke up.

“I know you have trouble sleeping but do you maybe wanna lay down and at least try to fall asleep?” He asked.

“But, what if I end up falling asleep here?"

“I can just sleep here too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“Okay.” You whispered softly as he pulled the cover back so that he could climb in and you followed after. Once you were both snuggled in the guest bed, he turned to you with a gentle look on his face.

“Come here.” Seungmin said and so you took this chance to scoot over. You snuggled into his side, resting your head on his chest while he held you close. Seungmin’s lips brushed over your forehead and you could feel it. He caressed your wrist with his thumb that was resting on top of his chest. The room fell silent for a good minute or so. With him just softly running his fingers through your hair to smoothen the tangles out. Your eyelids finally began to droop down . Suddenly, Seungmin began to sing sweetly above you. His voice was sultry and smooth.

If he was a supernatural being, he could be a siren.

This works like a charm and you slowly begin to drift off to sleep. The next morning, you woke up to the feeling of someone hugging you from behind. You let out a soft sound from trying to stretch, only to hear him whine behind you.

“What time is it?” His raspy morning voice says from behind you.

You grabbed your phone to check the time and it was just a quarter to 8 in the morning, “It’s 7:45 am.”

“Mmm, more sleep then.” Seungmin hums as he nuzzles his face deeper into your neck while hugging you tightly. You fell asleep for another hour or two before you got woken up by your mother’s voice at the door.

“Kids, I’ve made breakfast.”

Seungmin groans softly before he responds to your mum, “Okay. Thank you.”

A few seconds later, you jolted up when it finally hit you.

“Shit… She knows I’m here.” You panicked, only for him to look at you and finally caught on.

“Oh…”

With that being said, you quickly got out of bed and left his room in hopes you don’t bump into your parents. However, when you were about to dash past the kitchen to head to the staircase, your mother caught you just in time.

“Oh good, you’re up. Where’s Seungmin?” She asks with a smile on her face while she pours fresh orange juice into the glasses.

“U-Uh… He’s awake, I think?” You replied and she simply laughed.

So you excused yourself to head back upstairs and wash up. You ended up spending another two more days there to visit your grandma before deciding to head back. While you were saying goodbye to your parents on the front porch, your mum said, “Seungmin is a sweet boy. It’s still not too late, you know?”

You knew what she was saying so all you did was smile at her. After you left, you never spoke about it throughout the drive. Instead, you talked about other things so that he does not get suspicious. When you finally arrived outside at your apartment unit, you turned to say thanks to him.

“Thank you again for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” Seungmin smiled as you were running out of words to say purely out of nerves. Just then, you wanted to cut the awkwardness so you excused yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll just head back inside. Thanks Seungmin.” You quickly said before rushing in.

You let out a heavy breath while leaning against your door. You wanted to get up and move on with your day but a huge part of you was screaming at you for leaving him out there.

Maybe he already went back into his apartment.

Maybe he went back downstairs to go for a drive.

Maybe he left because you abruptly left.

However, all your assumptions were false because when you decided to open the door and find him, you were surprised to find him standing outside your door with a sad frown on his face.

“Y/N?” He whispered your name.

With that being said, you threw yourself forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a passionate kiss. You used both hands to gently hold his face while his hands slid around your lower back. When you pulled away to breath, he looked at you with a growing smile on his face.

“T-That um… Wow t-that was really nice.” Seungmin said softly and you blushed. He gently tugs you back in to kiss you again. You felt him smile against your lips, squeezing your waist softly. This time when he pulled away, he guided you back into your apartment as you giggled.

“I like you, Y/N.” He confessed to which you pushed your front door closed and smiled.

“Good… Because I like you too.”

Once you confessed your feelings, Seungmin kissed you again, more passionately as that would be the start of your relationship.

[theoi-crow]

The humans in Greek Mythology are the mega rich and powerful:

In my college classes people are often shocked when I tell them my favorite part of Greek mythology is the gods themselves and I'm not a big fan of the humans.

99% of my classmates prefer the humans in mythos, especially the ones that stick it to the gods like Sisyphus and feel bad for humans like Kassandra and Helen who have been wronged by the gods because "they're just like us." My classmates and teachers hate the gods and don't understand why anyone in modern times would want to worship such violent and selfish beings whenever I point out there are still people who worship them. They hold onto the idea that people in mythology embody the human experience of being oppressed by terrible gods and fate and we should feel bad for them because "they're human just like us" but they forget that the people in Greek Mythology are NOT just like us. They are more relatable to medieval royalty, colonizers and ultra rich politicians who make laws and decisions on wars and the fates of others, especially the poor and the very vulnerable.

Every hero or important human in Greek Mythology is either some form of royalty or mega rich politician/priest-priestess (of course this is with the exception of people who are explicitly stated to be poor like the old married couple in the myth where Zeus and Hermes pretend to be panhandlers). All of them have an ancient Greek lifestyle more relatable to Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump, and especially to British royalty during the British empire, than the average person.

All of them.

Odysseus, Patroclus, Theseus, Helen of Troy, Kassandra, Diomedes, Agamemnon, Perseus, Hercules, Aeneas, Paris, Any human who has a divine parent or is related to one, etc. Although sometimes the story omits it, it is heavily implied that these are people who own hundreds or even thousands of slaves, very poor farmers and the tiny barely there working class as royal subjects.

They are the ones who make laws and whose decisions massively affect the fates of so many people. So no, they can't just be forgiven for some little whim, because that little whim affects the literal lives of everyone under their rule. By being spoiled they've just risked the lives of thousands of people and possibly even gotten them killed like when Odysseus' audacity got every single slave and soldier in his ships killed or when Patroclus as a kid got upset and killed another kid for beating him at a game. (A normal person wouldn't kill another person just for winning a game but royalty and those who think they're above the law do it all the time, plus the class status of the child wasn't mentioned but the way he didn't think he'd get in trouble implies the kid was of lower class, possibly the child of a slave or a foreign merchant.)

The gods get a bad reputation for punishing the humans in mythology but, if not them, who else is going to keep them accountable when they are the law?

And whose to say the humans beneath them weren't praying to the gods in order to keep their masters in check?

Apollo is the god in charge of freeing slaves, Zeus is the god of refugees, immigrants and homeless people, Ares is the protector of women, Artemis protects children, Aphrodite is the goddess of the LGBT community, Hephaestus takes care of the disabled, etc. It wouldn't be surprising if the gods are punishing the ultra rich and powerful in these myths because the humans under their rulership prayed and sent them as they did historically.

Every time someone asks me if I feel bad for a human character in a myth, I think about the many lives affected by the decision that one human character made and if I'm being completely honest, I too would pray to the gods and ask them to please punish them so they can make more careful decisions in the future because:

They are not just like us.

We are the farmers, a lot of our ancestors were slaves, we are the vulnerable being eaten by capitalism and destroyed by the violence colonialism created. We are the poor subjects that can only pray and hope the gods will come and correct whatever selfish behavior the royal house and mega rich politicians are doing above us.

And that's why I pray to the gods, because in modern times I'm dealing with modern Agamemnons who would kill whatever family members they have to in order to reach their end goal, I'm dealing with everyday modern Achilles who would rather see their own side die because they couldn't keep their favorite toy and would gladly watch their subjects die if it means they eventually get their way. The ones that let capitalism eat their country and it's citizens alive so long as it makes them more money. These are our modern "demigods," politicians who swear they are so close to God that they know what he wants and so they pass laws that benefit only them and claim these laws are ordained by God due to their close connection just like how Achilles can speak to the gods because of his demigod status via his mother.

Look at the news, these are humans that would be mythical characters getting punished by Greek gods which is why anything Greco-Roman is jealousy guarded by the rich and powerful and is inaccessible to modern worshippers because Ivy League schools like Harvard and Cambridge make sure to keep it that way. That's what we're dealing with. These are the humans these mythical beings would be because:

In our modern times the humans in mythos would be the politicians and mega rich that are currently ruining our society and trying to turn it into a world where only the rich can manipulate wars and laws, just like they do in mythology.

Fuck them.

I literally have so much more to add about my disdain for them and I didn't even touch on the obvious ancient Greek propaganda.

[silkjade-archived]

SPARKS AMIDST THE SNOW

scaramouche x reader ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, second chance romance ⤀ synopsis: he meets you again for the first time since erasing himself from irminsul, and new hope flickers in the barren cold. ⤀ notes: for the best reading experience, pls think of the outro to all too well (10 min version) while u read this !

When Scaramouche inevitably accompanies the golden haired traveller on their journey to Snezhnaya, the last thing he expected was a pit stop in your little village on the outskirts of the capital. and although his puppet body does not shrink in the face of this nation's biting cold, his skin burns under the curious, yet cautious, gaze of those once familiar to him.

He keeps his head down, dipping his hat so that its large brim might hide his visage, eager to avoid any unwarranted attention. Still, his eyes cannot help but wander and his heart, imaginary as it may be, cannot help but wonder.

Were you well? The last he'd seen of you, he had promised to return a god — one who would whisk you away from the barren cold of Snezhnaya to live out your days in glory as his mortal consort. But for all that had transpired, and then that fateful traipse beneath the Irminsul, he's now no more than just another stranger passing through — fleeting as the falling snow, just another memory to be buried in the desolate stillness of winter.

He cares not for the stars in the sky, yet somehow they still dictate that his traveling companions would task him with purchasing commodities, of course from your family's stall. He's long grown out of his naivety; knows that in this infinite realm of possibilities, there’d always be the chance of meeting you again, slim as it may be. If it really came to, he had been prepared to let you live your life, free of him this time around, but it seems this world has its own twisted sense of humor, for he cannot tear his eyes from the ring that sits upon your finger.

"That ring. Where did you get it?" He's never been one for small talk, but the biting curiosity rivals that of the wind, as it chips away at his exterior. He keeps his tone even, ignoring the multitude of emotions whirring in his head, though irritation clearly seems to buzz the loudest.

It should have been impossible that a ring he'd forged with his own hands should still exist, but as the fate of this world has yet to reflect that… if he hadn't given you the ring, then how? Or perhaps even who... the cold, gunmetal glint laughs in his face as your swift fingers wrap up his purchase.

The stranger's question takes you by surprise, and you look up, taken aback by the intensity of his indigo gaze — beautiful, and bitter, and so blatantly familiar, yet you cannot quite figure out why.

Your village is nowhere near the main road, so it isn't often that you'd host any foreign guests; even if you did, you're sure you'd remember if someone like that were to ever have passed through. Nevertheless, you flex your fingers, pulled out of your thoughts by his impatient sigh.

"I'm not sure. I've had it ever since I could remember."

You're the same as he remembers, he thinks. A rose amidst the snow, with frost resting in your hair and on the curls of your lashes. Out of habit, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring at a closer proximity.

'How rude,' you think. and yet your hand in his, feels comfortable, and warm, and right. Like an electric charge drawing two magnets home to the other. It’d be blasphemy to pull away, but you manage to do so anyway, furrowing your brows at his boldness, the frown on your lips more so a reflection of your confusion, rather than displeasure.

“If you wanted to look, you could’ve just asked,” you mumble, as you slip the ring off your finger, offering it to him in the palm of your hand.

The detailed metalwork, the particular branding imprinted in the iron… there’s no denying the influence of the raiden gokaden, though it was perhaps, a subconscious decision made from muscle memory. In hindsight, he thinks that, in the moment, he must have felt—still feels—that same overwhelming affection that came as second nature to kabukimono. after all, it was forged as a promise of his love, and there’s no question about it when, hidden beneath his clothes, its pair hangs on a chain around his neck.

"It’s made with excellent craftsmanship," he boasts, "any merchant worth their weight, would give you a good price for it." He figures you might as well get something out of it, and a piece like this, though meaningless now, is still sure to last you until at least the next winter.

But a stubborn pout is painted across your snow-kissed features. "Absolutely not! it’s actually quite dear to me, you know..."

Scaramouche scoffs at the irony. ‘Why?’ he wants to ask. He is not foolish enough to believe himself an exception from the rules of this world; not when he's already convinced himself to give up on chasing the impossible. Still, here you are, turning destiny on its head — his heart, right within reach.

“It can’t be that dear, if you’d so willingly hand it off to a stranger.” his face reveals nothing, though he cannot say the same for the bile that rises in his throat. He crosses his arms, a brow raised in skepticism. "How do you know I won't run off with it right now?"

“I don’t,” you start, “so I suppose you could call it a leap of faith.”

“Or a doomed attempt at flight,” he counters. “You’d leave something so precious up to fate?”

You ponder for a moment as to why you feel so drawn to this stranger, why this back and forth comes so easily, why you seem to somehow just trust him.

"We don’t get many visitors here,” you start, “and as fate should have it, the day we do, it happens to be someone as interesting as you. that must count for something, no?”

The realist he’s learned to embody rolls his eyes at such ridiculous notions: your blind optimism… putting such faith in these false stars…. but the tenderness he had buried begs to differ, planting roots between the cavities of his chest, sprouting until it breaks through the surface.

He takes a further study of the intricate details, the careful inazuman script engraved on its body. ‘My heart,’ he had wrote.

Scaramouche dips his head as his fingers close a fist around the piece, the large brim of his hat hiding the fondness glimmering in his eyes, and the ghostly smile settling on his lips. He does not cringe as he recalls the lingering remnants of Kabukimono's innocence: stubbornly deluding himself to believe that his hollowed chest was naught for his natural lack of a heart, but because fate had dictated you to be its keeper.

Perhaps the warmth of sumeru had indeed rubbed off on him — melted the frost that crawled upon and tore his skin, whilst teaching him to hope again, not for anyone else’s sake, but for his own. What was that Vahumana saying? It’s difficult for people to truly understand themselves — and as much as he’d like to disagree, judging by his current predicament, he knows he cannot.

“Have you ever considered that this ring might be one half of a pair?” he tosses it in the air, nonchalantly, as if he were merely flipping a coin, catching it mid-way before you have the chance to swipe it back.

“What do you suppose fate would have to say about that?”

It’s almost impossible to tell whether he’s truly genuine in his queries, but the mischievous gleam in his bright eyes, and the smug look on his face, seem to nullify any regards you may have had. Your brows twitch in vexation. was he not just here to buy provisions? And yet he toys with you so…

“Well if that were the case, then it would be between me and whoever owns the other half,” you huff, reaching over once again in an attempt to snatch back your belonging, only to miss by mere seconds thanks to a quick slight of his hand.

Breathing out something between a chuckle and a scoff, Scaramouche tugs at the thin chain around his neck, hard enough for it to snap right off, and toss in your direction.

"A leap of faith," he says plainly. it lands in the palms of your hands: a ring, near identical. 'My soul' it reads. If he lacked a heart, then it could only have been forged from his soul.

A flurry of questions swarm in your head, as you stare at his ring. you want to ask him why and how, but he's already pivoted away, the tassels of his hat barely missing you by inches, as he quickly grabs his purchase.

“Who are you,” you manage to blurt out, calling out to him, and asking him to wait, so he might answer these questions he’s planted in your heart, but he only bids you farewell with a lazy wave of his hand.

Though there's nothing he'd like more than to hear the sweet song of his name falling from your lips, he's learned it best to leave the past where it belongs. once he's settled his scores... Then he'll get his second chance with you—he'll make sure of it, vowing to come back for you, not as Kunikuzushi who you had once known him, but he hopes you might one day be able to love him as he is, as well.

‘My soul’ your new ring reads. You shake your head, pursing your lips at the mysterious wanderer, wondering if you’d ever see him again, but a gust of wind blows your way — not a prickling cold as you’re used to, but a warm summer breeze that seems to caress your cheeks so sweetly.

Perhaps it's only in your head, but you swear the wind seems to carry the whisper of a name in its flurry. 'And don't you forget it,' it seems to say.

notes2: pleaseeee associate this with the outro of all too well (10 min version) like imagine the camera slow panning out amidst the falling snow, to the hopes of another chance together (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) anyways, tysm for reading, reblogs/feedback vry much appreciated ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[phoward89]

Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika

Summary: When Coriolanus signs you out of the hospital to bring you to his Corso penthouse, you see a glimpse of his dark side. Will that glimpse make you run away from him or to him?

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, Groping, Slapping, um...trying to think of anything else.

Here's the 2nd part of Forever & Ever, My Darling Rose. I gave the Reader a last name, Halvir, in this just to make some scenarios etc a bit easier to write. But the Readers first name is up to you lovely and wonderful readers to come up with.

Story Masterlist

Chapter 2:

Coriolanus marched towards the nurses’ station with a haughty airs to him. He gave off an entitled, but dangerous aurora that had the nurses shaking in their white nursing hats. He'd threatened to kill every single one of their loved ones (friends, family, pets, estranged family, etc) if something happened to you and the nurses were terrified that he'd make good on that promise. Considering you went out of your mind with a nightmare and cornered yourself into your room, resulting in him being called there to calm you down, the nurses were fearful.

The nurses quickly grabbed their charts and scurried off, excuses that they had to check on patients echoed into the air, as the head gamemaker got closer to the front desk. Patients that are most likely asleep since it was nearly 3 in the morning. Yes, the nurses left their charge nurse behind to deal with the wrath of Coriolanus Snow. The nurse assigned to you was the first to bolt.

“I'm signing Y/N Halvir out since your staff is too incompetent to properly care for a victor.” Coriolanus firminly told the charge nurse as he came to a stop right at the desk she was sitting behind, all by herself since the staff abandoned her to face a fate worse than death alone.

The charge nurse refused to meet Coriolanus’ eye while tentatively informing him, “Head Gamemaker Snow, sir, it's ill advised to sign her out. She hasn't been checked by a doctor and she seems to be dealing with some post traumatic stress.”

Wrong Answer. Coriolanus was outraged that some old nurse had the gall to tell him that he couldn't do what he felt best for his, HIS, darling rose. What did that old hag know? If it wasn't for her calling him, you would've hyperventilated and passed out from sheer fear in the corner of your room.

A private room that he was footing the bill for, by the way.

Well, looks like he'll just have to make the charge nurse’s loved ones disappear for her lack of skills tending to you. He'll also find out who was your assigned nurse, make that useless twit disappear along with her loved ones. Well, the Citadel could always use some more lab rats to conduct mutt experiments on.

“It may be ill advised, but I assure you that I am signing Y/N Halvir out of this hospital and taking her with me, where she'll be properly cared for.” He calmly told the nurse as his cold blue eyes cut her down. Leaning down over the desk, causing him to be face to face with the old nurse, Coriolanus hissed, “Your insubordination has won your son, a doctor, and his family a transfer to District 6. Seems like the hospitals there are in need of more doctors due to the rise in morphling addiction amongst the district citizens. It's such a shame that both of your grandchildren, a boy and a girl, will now be eligible for the Hunger Games as District 6 citizens.”

The charge nurse shook with fear as she pleaded, “Please, Head Gamemaker Snow, don't do that. Please, don't be so harsh.” Quickly, she worked on her computer while adding in, “I'm printing out the discharge paperwork now, just don't send my family away to District 6.”

Coriolanus just stood up straight, his full height of 6’0 towering over the charge nurse as she sat at the desk, typing and clicking away at the computer. He didn't say a word to her, just stared her down with cold, dead, blue eyes. 

The charge nurse swallowed down a sick feeling that was welling up while rising from her seat to scurry over to the printer. She silently prayed to the printer, which was growling louder than a feral animal, to hurry up and spit out the paperwork for your discharge. 

Coriolanus grew bored waiting for the necessary paperwork for your release. So bored that he was tapping his shiny black shoes against the linoleum floor. 

Click, click, click. Click, click, click. Click, click, click. Click, click, click. Click, click-

“Here’s that paperwork for you to sign.” The charge nurse told Coriolanus while hurrying over to him. Quickly she placed the paperwork on the desk before grabbing a pen from the cup on top of the desk. “And here's a pen, sir.” She practically threw the pen at him.

“Thank you, but your family's still headed to 6.” He simply said while signing and initialing the stack of paperwork he was given. It seemed a bit of an overkill in his opinion.

The nurse turned as white as a sheet upon hearing Coriolanus’ words, but she didn't dare try to fight him on it. Her family's fate was sealed by the sadistic head gamemaker, a man whose temperament was worse than his father, the late General Crassus Snow.

Once Coriolanus was finished with your paperwork, he left the front desk without so much as a thank you or a goodnight to the nurse, and returned to your room. You were sitting on the bed watching some late night rerun on Capitol tv whenever he entered your room. Looking between you and the tv, he chuckled, “You like the god awful cooking show where the chef curses out his potential staff?”

“We only get 3 channels on our tv back home in District 12 and this is one of the channels.” You explained to him while he made his way further into the room. Truthfully, you were lucky to even have a tv since you lived in the Seam. Your brother Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, had scrimped and saved for years to be able to buy the thing. It was small and second hand; only picked up 3 channels. The Capitol News, Capitol Movie Classics, and Capitol Channel 3. You wished there were more channels, but you were grateful for the ones you had. Most people in the Seam didn't even have that. You know that your neighbor, Corbin, and his Auntie (a mining widow) didn't even have a tv. 

As Coriolanus placed your paperwork down on your side table, you stared right at the tv (as the top chef called one of his potential staff a stupid fucking donkey for burning a risotto) and honestly revealed, “Plus watching all of these chefs get cursed out and treated horribly by their potential boss reminds me that somebody out there has it worse than me. Even though I live in the Seam with my coal miner brother and his girlfriend, who's a local barmaid at the hob, nobody's ever treated me as horribly and rudely as that award winning chef treats the people competing on his show for a job in his restaurant.”

“Hmmm…” Coriolanus hummed. Standing by your side, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear while asking, “And what of your mother?”

“I haven't seen her since she ran off when I was 5 and Rein was 15.” You flatly remarked.

“I see.” The platinum blonde man nodded. He felt rage boil in his cold, icy veins. How could somebody leave you as a child? You were so perfect, so innocent. You didn't deserve to be willingly abandoned by your mother. Oh, if he ever got a hold of that useless bitch she was dead. He'd make sure that she died a torturous death too.

“You signed me out AMA?” You asked, glancing over the form that was on your side table 

“Yes, I signed you out against medical advice because the staff here is doing you, my darling rose, more harm then good. They're too incompetent to care for my Victor and you, Y/N, deserve nothing but the best care.” Moving to the wardrobe in the corner of the room, he told you, “I had your reaping dress cleaned and brought here for you when you were admitted. I thought you'd feel more comfortable in that than your uniform from the arena.”

“Thank you, Head Gam-Coriolanus. I appreciate it.” You thanked him, a bit nervous about what name to call him. In the end you decided to just call him Coriolanus, but it still felt heavy and wrong on your tongue.

“Please, just call me Coryo.” He countered while crossing the room with your simple cotton floral dress in hand. “Now let's get you out of your hospital gown and into your pretty dress so we can go home.” He suggested while coming to a stop right at your bedside.

Instead of standing and stripping naked like Coriolanus thought you'd do, you arched a brow at him instead only to ask, “Home? But I thought you were taking me to a penthouse here in the Capitol?” 

“I am taking you to the Corso penthouse which is now your new home, my darling rose.” He slowly explained to you, as if you were a small child, while placing your dress down on the bed. Shaking his head, he grabbed your upper arm and pulled you to stand up. 

“What the hell are you doing, Coriolanus?!” You shrieked, pulling away from him as he started to untie your hospital gown. 

Grabbing you roughly by the upper arms and turning you to look at him, he stared down at you with cold, icy eyes. “I'm tired and want to go home and get some sleep. You will be a good girl and let me help you change.” 

You tried to break his hold while assuring him, “I can get changed myself. You can go wait in the hall, Coriolanus.”

“No, my darling rose, you can't. Now, be a good girl and let me help you so we can get out of here.” He told you in a tone that was sickeningly sweet.

“Corio-” You began to protest, only for him to slap you across the face. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as your hand automatically flew up to cradle your stinging cheek.

“I told you to be a good girl and let me help you, Y/N.” He sighed. 

“You hit me…” You trailed off in shock as tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Oh, my darling rose, I didn't mean to hurt you.” The pretty platinum blonde man cooed while prying your hand away from the cheek that he’d struck in his frustrated anger. His blue eyes raked over your cheek, which was raw and red from the slap. Seeing your tears rolling hotly down your cheeks turned him on, as horrible as that sounded. Brushing his knuckles along your puffy cheekbone, that would surely bruise within an hour or so, he softly said, “I don't like brats and backtalk, Y/N. If only you were a good girl then I wouldn't have slapped you.”

His words left your mind going a mile a minute. So, wait, it was your fault he slapped you? All because you didn't want his help changing? That didn't make sense. Should it make sense?

You were drawn out of your mental musings whenever you felt Coriolanus’ tongue lap up the tears along your cheek. Your breath hitched at the action. Your felt a tightness in your chest and a fluttering in your lower belly as he tilted your face to lick the tears of your untouched cheek. 

As his tongue traced your cheekbone, lapping up the salty tear stains on your skin, you felt a tingle in your core. Oh no. You can't have this reaction to him. It's wrong; he’s a married man and older than you. Hell, he's even older than your older brother.

Even though you knew being turned on by him was wrong, it didn't stop you from rubbing your thighs together.

When he pulled away from you, he gave you a lined smile and suggested, “Now that we have an understanding, let's get you in your pretty dress so we can go home.”

Your head was fuzzy with want and you had a slight ache in between your legs, so you were in no shape to protest or fight back. “Okay.” Your breath was shaky as you nodded. “Okay.”

“Seems like I have quite the effect on you, my darling rose.” Coriolanus smirked as his nose ran along your jawline. Your heartbeat was beating quickly, perhaps too quickly, while you felt heat pool in between your legs. Oh god, you've never felt like this before (yea, you've been turned on before, but not to the point where you felt uncomfortable and wanted to rip your hair out) and it both startled and excited you. 

He licked the shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “I must confess, Y/N, that you also have quite the effect on me.” He whispered into your ear before pulling away and leaving you to stare up at him with shock all over your face. “Don't look so shocked, my darling. You’re very beautiful and you're resilient; a victor.” 

Turning you around, he gently untied your hospital gown as if he was untying the bows to his favorite piece of lingerie. When he was done, he spun you around, nearly knocking you off balance and slid the gown off your shoulders. Your eyes darted to the floor as your breasts were exposed to him. You felt so small under his gaze and towering form as he slid the gown the rest of the way off you. 

“You have such nice tits.” Coriolanus smiled in awe, lust shining in his eyes, as he began to palm your nice tits.

“Coriolanus-” You started, only for him to cut you off with the request of, “Coryo, call me Coryo.”, as he began to run his thumbs over your nipples while cupping your tits in his large, calloused hands.

“Coryo, we can't do this here. We're in my hospital room.” You told him despite his actions causing you to get even wetter then you already were between your legs.

“It's a private room, my darling rose. I paid enough for it, so I don't see the harm in us getting my money's worth.”

What the hell did he mean by that? Did he seriously want to mess around in your hospital room? Oh no. No, no, no. No. You're drawing that line at that. 

Your hands wrapped around his wrist as you told him, “I just want to get out of here, Coryo. You promised to take me home, remember?”

You prayed that your words knocked some sense into him because you didn't want your first time doing sexual things to be in a hospital room, where a nurse could walk in at any time, with him (he was a married man for God's sakes!).

His demeanor deflated and he sighed, “Yes, my darling rose, I did promise you that didn't I?”, while pulling away from you. He grabbed your dress from the bed and motioned for you to lift up your hands.

“What about my underwear?” You asked, feeling a bit exposed as Coryo looked you up and down with a hungry glint in his eye. It was as if he was a starving man and you were a juicy steak ready to eat.

“You don't need them, darling. Once we get to our penthouse you'll be changing into a shirt to sleep in anyways.” He explained while motioning, once again, for you to lift your arms. This time you obeyed him and he pulled your best floral dress over your head. He smoothed it out, only to press a kiss to your forehead and smile. “You're all ready to go, my Victor.”

The car ride to the luxury penthouse seemed to take ages. You were alone with Coriolanus since he was driving and it made you feel a bit uncomfortable. After what happened in your hospital room (him stripping you and groping your boobs) you didn't think it was a good idea to be alone with him. He was married and you didn't want to lose your innocence, all of your firsts, your virginity to a man that would never be yours no matter the chemistry or effect you had on each other.

You were staring aimlessly out the window when Coryo startled you by placing a hand on your thigh. You didn't say a word, just sighed uncomfortably.

Looking over at you with a worried expression, Coriolanus asked, “What's wrong, Y/N? You seem troubled.”

Pulling your eyes off the window, you snapped your head to look at the platinum blonde in the driver's seat and honestly told him how you felt. “You shouldn't be resting your hand on my thigh, Coryo. You’re married.”

The gold ring on his finger mocked him as it shines against the red and cream floral fabric of your dress. He never had anyone turn him down because of that thin gold band he was branded with by saying ‘I do’ to Livia Cardew, well that is until now. Coriolanus knew that you were young and innocent from District 12 so the thought of being a mistress would horrify you. He knew that he had to ease your worries, so he simply told you, “Don't worry about my wife, darling. I’m taking care of everything; she won't be my wife much longer.”

“I wasn't aware ya’ll were having marriage problems. The Capitol gossip rags make it seem like the marriage is a happy one.”

“Things aren't always as they seem here in the Capitol, my darling rose.” He told you before correcting your grammar with a stern, “And it's I wasn't aware that you were having marital problems.” Patting you on the thigh as he switched lanes, he explained, “You're not in District 12 anymore and since you'll be staying here in the Capitol for a while it's best that you learn how to speak properly; like a Capitol citizen.”

You didn't say a word, just numbly nodded. You never thought that staying in the Capitol while Victor’s Village and your house was constructed meant changing how you talked. You never thought you talked strange, well until now. “Do I sound weird when I talk, Coryo?” You asked, staring at the side of his face as he drove.

“No.” He shook his head. “We just need to work on some small grammar errors here and there, but no, darling, you sound just fine when you talk.”

“Oh…” You trailed off, turning your attention back to looking out your window. 

He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “You're a rose that just needs some extra pruning and tender care, but fortunately for you I'm an excellent gardener that favors white roses.” His thumb grazed your thigh as he explained, “White roses are the perfect symbol of purity and perfection.” As he pulled up to a large building, his baritone heavily hung in the air with the meaningful words of, “Unblemished; untouched, just like you, my darling rose.”

But how long would you be Unblemished and untouched? Would he take your innocence as soon as you entered the penthouse or would he wait until he was free from his wife? The bigger question was did you even want him to take your innocence? To give you all of your first experiences with a man? Now that was the million dollar question you didn't have an answer for. Or maybe you did, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

AN: Did anyone catch the tv show easter egg I threw in there?

Tags: @kuroosbby001 , @purriteen , @poppyflower-22 , @meetmeatyourworst , @whipwhoops , @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri

[gars-weaponeer]

Let's talk about he unwarranted Fox hate.

I often see that a lot of people tend to hate on Commander Fox, often portraying him as a villainous kind of character or very cold and selfish compared to the more heroic and beloved Commander Thorn.

I see these two characters portrayed as "the good commander" and "the bad commander" of the Coruscant guard, when in reality they are both pretty much the same character.

But just for the fact that Fox killed Fives, the public decided to label him as a "bad guy".

But that's not the case, in fact if we changed characters and placed Thorn hunting after Fives and Fox on the diplomatic mission, chances are both situations would have ended the same way: with Fives dead at the hands of Thorn and Fox dying heroically for the republic.

Why is this?

Well for starters we need to understand what a Coruscant guard is.

These were clones that were raised and trained differently from common clone troopers as their assignment was to act as a security police force for Coruscant. As a result, they dealt with different threats than normal troopers.

Clone troopers knew what their enemies looked like, the separatist forces were easy to recognize in the battlefield. But for the Coruscant guard the enemy could take many forms. They would not see battle droids on the streets attempting on the lives of the senate. They would have to deal with terrorists, dressed as common folk or unconscious work droids. They had to be more alert and more skeptic of their surroundings 24/7 as the fate of the republic laid in their hands.

One false move could cost the lives of the chancellor and the senate and with them the Republic would fall. That is the weight these clones carry on their shoulders. This is the responsibility that both Fox and Thorn carry along with the other commanders in red.

Both Fox and Thorn are very similar in canon.

Fox appears more than Thorn and we can see from his canon(and legends) appearances that he is a fiercely loyal clone to the republic, hard working and honorable like many of his brothers. He is the first to charge into battle, leading his troops with bravery and has little patience for criminals.

Thorn seems to have a similar sense of duty, loyalty and bravery that Fox has, as he also stands his ground during battle, refusing to surrender til the very last second. We sadly don't see more of Thorn beyond his one and only appearance.

So why do people hate Fox so much, when he and Thorn are not that different?

Well, he killed Fives.

But I don't think he should be hated for it.

To explain this, join me to see things through the fox's eye, and learn the other side of the story.

We as the audience know Fives since he is a Shiny, and we see him grow up, level up, become an ARC trooper and survive many perils. We see him discover that one plot that we know causes so much death and destruction and even tho we know the ending of the story, we want to root for him and we get frustrated when we see no-one hears him out. We also, as the audience, know that Palpatine is the bad guy, he is playing chess against himself and ruining the lives of countless people for his own sick pleasure in his path to rule the Galaxy.

But Fox doesn't know any of this.

He doesn't know Palpatine is secretly Dath Sidious. He doesn't know there is a secret plot to destroy the Jedi and that he and his brothers are just pawns in a greater scheme.

As far as he is concerned, the Chancellor is the head of the Republic, and if anything happens to him it might mean the end of the Republic and the death of not only him but all his brothers. It's his duty to protect Palpatine from harm. And there are a lot of people trying to hurt him.

He also doesn't know Fives.

He might have heard of him as Fives is a respected ARC trooper from the 501st. But he doesn't know him personally like we do, like Rex does. He has no real connection to him other than Fives being another Clone like him.

So when he hears that there is this erratic clone that tried to kill Palpatine and is now on the run, of course he would see Fives as a threat.

Remember that the Kaminoans covered the whole inhibitor chip thing by saying it was a behavioral regulator, that kept Clones from becoming aggressive and erratic. The Kaminoan even took the example of Tup's chip malfunction as proof that without the chip the clones turn irrational and unpredictable. This is the information the characters have. The ONLY ONES that know the truth are Palpatine, the Kaminoans and Fives.

So in Fox's eyes, Fives turned erratic because he also has a chip malfunction. He became irrational, unpredictable, erratic and has attempted to kill someone before. He might try to do so again and is now on the run. It's his duty as head of the Coruscant guard to find him and stop him before he hurts someone.

When he finds Fives, he has Anakin and Rex as hostages and is talking nonsense, acting erratic and paranoic. He could hurt Anakin or Rex, two very important and prominent figures in the GAR and their deaths could result in disadvantage against the Separatist forces. Fox cannot afford that. And yet he doesn't enter shooting, he points his gun at Fives and orders him to raise his hands and surrender. He gives Fives a chance to go peacefully, to de-escalate the situation. And when he sees that Fives looks at the blaster on his side he even yells at him to stop, he asks him not to do it, not to take the gun and make things worse. But Fives doesn't listen, he takes the gun yelling and Fox has to make a split-second decision.

In a moment like that, when you are a second away of a disaster, when you, your brothers or the hostages could get killed by the shot of a unhinged person. You don't get enough time to think.

Fox reacts and shoots Fives to stop him from harming others.

Sure, we could argue that Fox could have used stun instead, or that he could have shot Five's hand, anything to not kill him.

But we need to understand that in situations like that, when tensions are high, then it's life or death and you have to take a split-second decision, you don't usually have time to be rational.

Even the most trained people can't always take the most rational option, and often choose the best option they can.

Fox took the best option he could in that situation.

And I don't think that Thorn, Thire, Stone or any of the other Shock trooper Commanders would have done any different, any better.

They all would have been faced with the same dire situation, and they all would have had to take the split-second decision.

One could argue that the fact that Fox was not present in the circle of Coruscant guards taking off their helmets as they mourn Fives, could imply that he was indifferent to his death.

And maybe? However I don't think that's the case.

Remember that Fox tried to stop Fives, he tried to give him a chance to surrender and in the end he couldn't stop. He had to shoot a fellow clone. A clone whose face he sees in all his brothers, the companions he trained with, fought with, work with everyday. He did not wanted to kill Fives.

That has to be very haunting.

I like to believe that Fox is not the mourning circle, because he had to take a step back to come to terms to what he has done.

Fox has been proven to be an honorable man. How can he stand a join the mourning of a man he just killed? How can he see into Rex's eyes as he cries for the close brother he has lost? Maybe he felt like he had no right to be there.

Then again this is just my speculation, considering what little canon we have of Fox.

In general I don't think we should hate on Fox for Fives' death. Sure, Fives is easily my second favorite clone, way above Fox in my raitings, and I suffered a lot when he died. But I do think that the situation was way to out of hand and Fox did as best as he could to keep everyone safe.

Fives was not at fault either. Remember he was drugged, and he was feeling frustrated, paranoic, confused, he was panicking and not thinking clearly.

The only one at fault here is Palpatine and his schemes.

That said...

I'm not saying that you should stop portraying Fox as a cold and ruthless character.

Hell, I myself like to represent him as a more stoic and sarcastic person compared to his brothers and I've seen many different portrayals of this character, with many different personalities that I love!

You are free to a enjoy the fandom as you wish after all!

Just keep this post in mind and please don't hate on people who like Fox as a character.

We all deserve to enjoy Star Wars and it's wonderful characters that inspire us.

┕━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

Well, this has been my Rant! If you reached all the way down here thank you for reading ♥

And may the force be with you.

[won4kiss]

𖠵 . ׅ ࣪ ⌇𝑀𝐴GN𝐸𝑇IC

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 bad boy! 𝑙ee heeseung x 𝑓! reader. 𝒢enre fluff. 𝓢ynopsis. in which one single detention session with lee heeseung changes everything ! 𝑤𝑐 𐙚ㅤㅤ 873 ⸝⸝ not edited, kissing, skinship ⸝⸝ ୭ৎ — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂 ᥫ᭡

PLEASE LIKE & REBLOG ! 𓂃

GROWING UP, YOU HAD ALWAYS BEEN THE GOLDEN GIRL. — completely on the top of your all your classes, effortlessly charming, and admired by everyone at school.

heeseung, on the other hand, was the bad influence type boy with a magnetic allure that drew whispers and gazes wherever he went, even having his own fan club.

your paths had rarely crossed throughout all of high school until that fateful afternoon when you found yourself in the same detention room, sentenced to spend an hour together.

the moment you saw lee heeseung in the room, you knew it was going to be one long hour for you. — more under cut !

heeseung leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable as he watched you cautiously take a seat across from him.

"no way— if it isn’t our little golden girl, y/n!" he drawled, breaking the silence with a smirk.

"what trouble did you get yourself into, walking into class two seconds late?"

you shot him a playful glare, feeling a rush of adrenaline at his sudden proximity.

"maybe i just wanted to see what the bad boy was up to,"

you countered, with the boldness of your words, even surprising yourself as you muttered the words out.

his smirk widened into a grin, somehow resembling a cheshire cat as his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"curiosity killed the cat, you know."

but despite his teasing demeanor, there was a flicker of something in his eyes when he let out that genuine smile — a vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat.

and a smile you’re sure you haven’t seen in your four years of attending school together.

as the minutes passed, you surprisingly found yourselves sharing funny stories, telling jokes, and learning unexpected common ground about each other.

you quickly realized after that hour with lee heeseung, he wasn't just the bad boy; he was witty, perceptive, knee-slapping hilarious and somehow very kind beneath his tough exterior.

when the bell signaling the end of detention finally rang, you both hesitated, reluctant to part ways after bonding so well, you both felt a connection you just couldn’t ignore.

"same time tomorrow?" heeseung asked nervously, a hint of hope painting his tone.

you nodded, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face.

"well, why not? but only if you promise to behave not to get into too much trouble before then."

heeseung chuckled, a deep, magical sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"deal."

over the following days, your secret meetings in detention became the highlight of your everyday routine.

you laughed together, quarrelled over dumb things, and slowly unraveled the layers of each other's personalities.

the golden girl and the bad boy— total opposites yet you two couldn’t possibly deny that you drawn to each other like magnets.

on a rainy afternoon, as you sat together in comfortable silence, heeseung turned to you with a deep look in his eyes that made your breath twitch.

"you know," he began softly,

"i used to think being the local delinquent was my only role in this world. but then i met you, and suddenly, everything feels… different."

your heart raced, literally feeling it pump in your chest as his words hung in the air, charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

without thinking, you reached out and intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the electric warmth of his touch against your skin.

heeseung's gaze softened at the sight as he let out a soft smile, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"i don't want to be the bad boy anymore,"

he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"not if it means i can't be with you."

in that very moment, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the strong intensity of your connection.

with a surge of courage and impulse, you leaned in, cupping his cheeks gently and pressed your lips to his, almost feeling like a silent confession, a promise.

heeseung responded eagerly, his kiss gentle yet filled with a passion that ignited a fire within you.

time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the feeling of your body’s pressed together and souls intertwined.

the weight of unspoken words and shared feelings finally making its way out in the sweetness of your embrace.

when you finally pull apart, breathless and cheeks flushed pink, heeseung leans in once again and smiles against your lips.

a smile that signified and spoke of newfound possibilities and a future together filled with sweet moments like this.

"i think i'm done being the bad boy," he murmured, his voice tinged with a certain softness and wonder.

“really?” you asked with a hint of amusement on your face.

"mmh, because with you, i’ve finally found something worth being good for."

you let out a soft grin as you leaned into his embrace once again, the rain tapping softly against the windows, the rain blocking out your intimacy and vulnerability you could only share with each other out from the rest of the world.

you knew that this— whatever it was between you, was just the beginning of a love story written in whispers and stolen kisses.

© won4kiss 2024

taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @greentulip

[musickgeek]

The Great Alastor Altruist

Could be read as either platonic or romantic

The plan was for Alastor to take care of Adam, but I didn't want to send him without back up. So now I stand beside the feared Radio Demon, ready to fight Heaven's lead soldier.

The shield withers away, and Adam stares down at us with amusement as he approaches the hotel sign. "Adam...First man, next to die." Alastor says with his usual grin. His collected stance contrasts my tense, readied one. I hold my spear and shield up defensively, waiting for him to strike. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Alastor and (Y/n)." He introduces with flourish. He's thriving on the power display, I'm not so much. "Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure. I'm about to end your fucking life." He declares, driving his staff into the ground. I step aside quickly as the green tendrils rise from the ground, showing off the Radio Demon's power. However, Adam doesn't seem impressed. "Nice voice. Don't you know jazz is for pussies?" He conjures his axe, and goes in for the attack, to which Alastor meets him with the tendrils. Adam swings at them, making them disappear. Once he's close, Alastor and I move together gracefully so that he is behind me, and Adam's blade merely meets the shield. "Ah, ah, ah," Alastor tuts. 

"You really think you can take me on? A mortal soul is no match for me, edge lord." Adam smiles, like this is nothing to him. He continues to defend against our coordinated attacks, seeming at ease. "You're a mortal soul, too, douche nozzle." I finally speak. "You should know better then anyone what a soul can accomplish when they take charge of their own fate." Alastor's shadow dissolves into several little minions that attack Adam. One manages a surprise hit on him in between his wild swinging. "You think you're tough shit, huh?" He swings at nothing, as the minion is gone.

Alastor materializes next to him. "Tougher than you." He laughs. Adam dives for him, missing with each swing of the golden axe. "You lack discipline," he taunts, dodging, "control," he ducks behind my shield, "and worst?" He jumps into the air, getting larger and darker. His limbs and antlers grow in a mangled manner, and he's filled with green electricity. I'm frightened despite being on his side, never having seen such a terrifying side of him. "You're sloppy."

"And you're-fuck- fuck you! You red piece of- " Adam fails to get a sentence out as all the minions climb and attack him. "Shut up!" He shouts, throwing the last minion away. Alastor laughs, and grabs him with on of the tendrils, slamming him into the hotel sign. "Poetry." He taunts.

"I'm gonna wipe that shit eating grin off your face, cause radio is fucking dead!" Adam flies above, swiping at the air with his axe. It creates a golden arc of power that meets Alastor before I can defend him. "What just happened?" I'm horrified at the lack of radio static in his voice, he looks wildly panicked. He looks down and sees the broken staff. "Ffffuck."

Adam goes to swing his axe into Alastor's chest, and I'm too late. Alastor flies back, crying out in pain. He leans into the wall, bleeding, ears pinned back, but still smiling. Adam readies another blow, but I'm faster this time. "No!" I'm in just in time to block it with the shield. With a battle cry, I drive the spear into the arm wielding the axe. He dodges only enough to merely graze the arm. It's still enough to piss him off majorly. He growls in rage, and blindly attacks only for me to ram the shield into him. He falls to his back, and I stand over him with the point of my spear to his throat. 

"You come into our home, attack our friends, and expect us to take it lying down? You're more pathetic then anyone here." I spit vehemently. I go to drive the point into him, but he manages to grab it from me, and throws it with enough force to take me with it. He flies above me, but I roll away quick enough for his axe to meet the floor. However, he just reaches over and claws my chest with his hand. I gasp for breath, wheezing with pain. The cuts are shallow, but disable me enough for him to wrap his hand around my throat. He slams my body into the ground then lifts me into the air. "I've had enough of you disgraceful vermin."

My vision is fading, the blood is pounding in my ears. I claw at the glowing hand around my neck. I can't die. He'll kill Alastor, he'll kill the everyone. Without warning, I drop to ground, making all my wounds sting. I gasp for breath. Why my vision clears again, I see why. Alastor attacked Adam. And Adam saw it coming. "No...no, no. Alastor no." I mutter. Alastor's plunged my blade through Adam's chest, but Adam's axe is in embedded in the Radio Demons side. They both seem surprised at the outcome. "Radio's not dead." Alastor insists. Adam falls over, dead, while Alastor falls to his knees. The sickening smile on his face doesn't hide the sheer pain in his eyes.

I run to him, dropping to my knees to match his height, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Alastor, no, no, no, no, no, no. We can fix this, okay, you're gonna be fine, we can..." My voice dies away, turning into small sobs. "Don't cry, my dear. You're never fully dressed without a smile." He says half heartedly. "Why, Alastor? We could of... I'm not.... You needed to protect all of them, not me." He laughs weakly. "But I did, didn't I? And I protected you in the process."

"I suppose that makes you the most powerful demon I know." I tell him softly. He laughs quietly. "The great Alastor Altruist died for his friends." He slumps into me, eyes closing shut, but still ever smiling. I don't care about the oozing blood, I pull him tight against me hoping it's somehow a comfort. The war falls deaf in my ears, I only hear his breath slowing, slowing, and stop. I scream in anguish, the sound drowned out by the heat of battle still surrounding me. I need to end this.

I stand slowly, and rip the axe from Alastor's flesh. I take it over to Adam's body. I look down in disgust and spit on him. With a final cry of rage, I lift the axe over my head and slam it down onto his neck to decapitate his body. I grab the head by his hair, and I walk to the side of the building, holding my prize for everyone to see. "Adam is dead!" I declare. The exorcists look on in horror, cries of shock and grief rising among their ranks. "Adam is dead! Retreat! All exorcists fall back!" Their commander orders. The angels go back from which they came, and my friends all look at me with triumph and awe. I can't match their enthusiasm, only feeling hollow and tired. How was I going to tell them what happened? 

[cuntdestroyer3000]

You can be the Boss

pairing: Negan Smith x afab!fem!reader

summary: You and your little brother find an uneasy home at the savior compound. Things aren’t too bad, besides the fact that their ruthless leader has his sights set on you. After showing him some attitude, he decides to show you who’s boss. 

word count: ~5.4K

warnings: mdni or I will tell ur mom. Swearing (mostly from Negan and my narration) Rough sex/smut, unprotected p in v wear condoms you whores, orgasm denial, degradation, pet names, consensual forced submission. Mild dubcon (power imbalance). Age gap, reader is in her late 20s, Negan is in his 40s?? Tbh imagine it however you want but he’s older than her. No use of Y/N 

CULTS ARE BAD 

~

You were over Negan’s bullshit, to put it simply. You had been all on your own with just your little brother when the saviors had found you and let you become a part of their community. You remembered thinking, foolishly, that you were safe, things were going to get better. Only for things to get even more complicated and dangerous. Maybe if you were with a different group, being led by a different man.

You remembered the day you met him too. You had been brought to the compound, clutching your brother’s arm and refusing to let go. You had been led to a room with a bed and everything, instructed to take showers and asked if you wanted anything to eat. You remembered the water falling through your hair, the fresh smell of the soap. Something you had taken for granted before now considered a luxury in this post-apocalyptic world. In your naivety you’d allowed yourself to let your guard down. Until you met him.

You knew immediately not to trust him. The way he looked at you made you uneasy. You were used to men looking at you that way, being a young woman in a lawless world you had grown accustomed to predatory behavior from the men you encountered. You’d learned to harden yourself, keep your guard up always. You weren’t scared to hurt a man if he got too close to you.

This was different though, Negan was the leader of the saviors. You couldn’t just kick him in the balls and move on with it. 

You were quickly put to work in the compound. It definitely wasn’t paradise, but at least you and your brother’s safety was ensured. Getting to sleep in an actual bed didn’t hurt either. The only problem was the man who ran everything. 

At best he was an arrogant piece of shit, at worst he was a fucking monster. You made sure, and lectured the hell out of your brother, to stay out of his way. 

He walked around the compound like it was his kingdom, swinging that damn bat around everywhere he went. You couldn’t help how alluring he was, despite his brutality. You couldn’t help being drawn in by his sauntering walk and deep voice, especially when he talked to you. It made you sick that there was a part of you that wanted him so bad, even after you’d witnessed the evil things he did. 

You tried to stay out of his way, but he made it difficult, always going out of his way to talk to you. Not only were you scared of him, you were scared of how he made you feel. So you pushed those feelings way down and kept your head down, doing your job and taking care of your brother. It had worked for the most part, but eventually you couldn’t avoid him anymore. 

-

One fateful day, Laura had been sick and she had asked you to fill in for her. You knew she worked a lot closer with Negan than you did, but you really liked Laura and didn’t want to let her down. You figured it’d be fine, just do the job and get out, right?

The whole time, you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head when you worked. You had never worked this closely with him before. The air around him felt electrically charged and you tried to ignore how he was making you feel.

The whole time he made little comments towards you, trying to be endearing in his own twisted way. You tried to walk the line that you always did between humoring him and still acting uninterested. However, it was getting harder and harder the more he drew you in. 

When the job was finally done, he dismissed everyone. As you were walking away though, he called you back to him. You had turned around, trying to keep your expression neutral.

“C’mere” He beckoned you over with his leather gloved hand. You cautiously walked up to him, doing your best to ignore how your heartbeat quickened. 

“Who are you?” He asked, that familiar wolfish smile on his lips. Suddenly, irritation flooded through you. You were sick of his smugness, he was already in control of everything, controlled everything all of you did. He even made you guys kneel for him. It wasn’t fair that in exchange for basic safety you had to kiss his ass and stroke his ego. Your identity was all you had left, and he wanted to take that away from you now too. You knew it was stupid but there was this stubborn part of you that just refused to bend.

“Well?” He asked, starting to get impatient, “I asked you a fucking question.”

You sighed and tried your hardest not to roll your eyes.

“Oh I’m sorry, is there a problem?” He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He was calm now, but the smallest things could set him off.

“No!” You said quickly, “Its just- come on Negan, you already know I’m loyal to you.”

His expression darkened and he stepped closer to you.

“So who are you?” He asked evenly, his tone warning you.

Your heart started to beat even faster as he got closer to you. There was some sort of tension between you two, you knew that for sure. Even though you didn’t work closely with him in the saviors community, he made sure to know who you were. He made excuses to be around you, to touch you. You weren’t stupid, you could see the way he looked at you.

To make things worse, that fucked up part of you really wanted him too. You hated yourself for it. He terrified you, and you liked it.

Suddenly you felt all the air knocked out of you as he grabbed you by the arms and shoved you into the wall. Lucille was still clutched in his right hand, inches away from your face. You’d taken much longer than he had liked to respond.

“You know, I am getting sick and tired of your fucking attitude.”

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t think straight with the feeling of his large hands clamped around your arms. All you could focus on was how close he was to you, how strong he was, keeping you pinned against the wall.

“Just cause I like you doesn’t mean you get a free pass to be a little brat.” He spat at you.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered. His eyes burned into you and for a second you had no fucking idea what he was about to do. 

Then, he sighed and let go of you. You leaned against the wall and tried to catch your breath. He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face as he paced around a little bit. 

“I just don’t know what it’s gonna take for you to take me seriously.”

“I do take you seriously.” You said, a little shocked. You had seen him brutally murder people in cold blood. You knew entirely what he was capable of.

“Mmmm no.” He shook his head, smiling coldly at you, “Cause yeah, you do what you're told and you do a good job of it.” He stepped closer to you again, crowding you up against the wall, “But I'm not sure you really know who's on top here. You see, I don't like the way you look at me sweetheart."

You looked up at him, trying to mask your feelings of fear and reluctant arousal.

“What’s it gonna take to get you to submit to me? Hmm?” He asked tauntingly and cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb over your cheekbone.

You couldn’t help the waves of arousal that spread through you, leaving you throbbing in your jeans. You subconsciously bit your lip as you looked at his lips. He had never gotten this close to you before, only leaving you light touches on your arm or lower back whenever he had the chance.

He examined your face before his eyes flitted down to where you were clenching your thighs, desperate for friction. He smirked,

“Ohh…you want me to fuck you don’t you?”

You gasped at his forwardness and stumbled to find the right words,

“Negan I-“

“No you want me to fuck you.” He repeated licking his lips, “You’re practically fucking begging for me.”

“Negan, no you don’t-“

He interrupted you again by grabbing your hair and pulling it back, you couldn’t help the loud moan that tore from your throat.

“There she is.” He murmured and slowly leaned in to kiss you. Hypnotized by his proximity and his touch, that twisted part of you that was drawn to Negan lit up and took over and you leaned in and crashed your lips into his.

He tightened his grip in your hair and you opened your mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he put his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, still holding Lucille.

He groaned as he pulled away, still holding you.

“Goddamn you are incredible.” You whined and leaned into his hand that cupped your cheek, “But…I still gotta punish you”

“How?” You asked and you couldn’t help how small your voice was.

He stared down at you for a moment, a sly smile spreading across his face.

“I think you already know how.”

***

I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. What the fuck am I doing?

That was your thought process as you let Negan devour you, licking into your mouth and running his large hands all over your body, claiming you. You knew it was wrong but he felt so fucking good. You’d been traveling for so long, alone with your brother, so focused on taking care of him that you had never been able to enjoy something like this. A man who wanted you, wanted to take you apart, make you his. In this moment you realized how much you had been craving physical intimacy. You didn’t care who he was or what he did anymore, all you cared about was how alive he made you feel.

Suddenly he pulled away and stepped back a little. He licked his lips and smiled slowly.

“Strip for me.”

“W-what?”

“You fucking heard me. Strip.” He commanded.

The pulsing between your thighs grew stronger as you slowly pulled your shirt over your head. His dark eyes stayed trained on you as you unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down. You stood in front of him in your underwear, feeling vulnerable already.

“Look at you, bein such a good girl for me already.” He smiled and walked closer to you again. He pulled you close to him and ran his hands down your back, squeezing your ass roughly as he inhaled, his face buried in your neck. You held on to his broad shoulders, your cheek pressed against the leather of his jacket.

You yelped as he landed a harsh slap to your ass.

“Mmm I like the sound of that.” He smirked and pulled away from you, grabbing your hair tightly again.

“Now what the fuck do I do with you?” He mused.

Anything you want. Your mind screamed as you bit your lip, fisting the fabric of his white t shirt. Your head was spinning with what he was gonna do to you. The endless possibilities. He could even hurt you if he wanted.

He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, letting it slide down your arms revealing your breasts to him.

“Holy shit.” he breathed as he looked down at you, “You’ve got some nice fuckin tits.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his compliment, blushing as you looked down at the floor.

“I mean it.” He sighed as he ran his hands up your torso. You looked at him through your eyelashes as he cupped them, running his fingers over your hardening nipples. You loved the way he looked at you, like he was hypnotized by you. You couldn’t help the soft moan that fell from your lips as you arched your back, letting your breasts fill his hands.

He leaned down, licking at your chest, running his tongue over one of your nipples and sucking it into his mouth. You moaned louder and pulled on his hair as his hands went down to your ass, lifting you up against him.

You ground your hips onto him and he laughed lowly against your chest. 

“You want it fuckin bad don’t you?” He moved to your other breast, biting your nipple gently, his hands firmly under your ass, supporting your weight. Everything about him was intoxicating, his mouth, his tongue, the way his beard felt on your bare chest, the leather under your fingertips, the way his belt dug into your clothed clit just right.

Moving his mouth off of your nipple he threw you down onto the bed.

“Hands and knees. Now.” He said to you, his deep voice sending shivers through you.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked, looking up at him.

He smiled slowly, coldly,

“I’m gonna take my time with you.” He shrugged off his jacket, revealing his tattooed biceps, “I’m gonna hurt you baby, but you’re gonna like it.” Your breath hitched at that as he pulled his shirt off and leaned over you.

“I’m gonna have you crying and begging for me to let you come. And then I’m gonna make it so that my name is the only fucking thing you remember.”

With that he kissed you roughly, sliding his tongue into your mouth unabashedly. You moaned against him, running your hands up and down his arms, trying to savor this moment as much as you could.

You couldn’t help but whimper as he pulled away and he laughed at you again, flipping you over onto your stomach and pulling your hips so that your ass was up in the air. Any caution you had previously was thrown to the wind, you were drunk on him.

He slowly pulled your panties down to your knees, leaving you bare for him.

“Fuck that’s a pretty fuckin pussy.” He murmured as he ran a finger through your glistening folds, “Damn, you’re so wet for me already, I haven’t even fucking touched you.”

Your body jolted and you moaned, hips searching for more release. He chuckled,

“Yeah…you’re gonna be cryin for me real soon.”

Without warning he landed a hard smack against your ass and you moaned and buried your face in the bed.

“You like that?” He taunted and spanked you again, harder this time. You whimpered and grabbed onto the sheets. You couldn’t believe you were letting him treat you like this. You’d only had sex a handful of times and none of them had been like the earth shattering experience you’d heard about.

This however was amazing. The pain on your ass was tingling, spreading across your thighs and your pussy, desperately squeezing around nothing.

He spanked you again, this time hard on your cunt and you moaned embarrassingly loud.

“Fuck you really like that don’t you?” He hit you again and again until you were screaming into bed. He grabbed your hair and yanked you up so you could see him, his eyes were wild with lust and power.

“Answer me.”

You nodded quickly, his grip on your hair burning your scalp.

“Yes.” You gasped, “Yes Negan I love it”

He hit you a few more times, marveling at the way your ass reddened for him. You whimpered and tried to squirm away from the overstimulation.

“You gonna cry?” He mocked.

“Negan please.” You whined, his cruelty only making you wetter, “It’s too much I can’t-“

“Well if it was all fun and nice it wouldn’t be a punishment now would it?”

He spanked you more and more until your ass and thighs burned. You’d lost count of how many times he’d hit you at this point. The satisfaction from before was starting to melt into severe pain and you started to get scared that he’d keep going and going and not listen to you.

He landed a final hard spank on your cunt and you wailed, burying your face in the mattress as he let go of your hair, tears springing from your eyes.

“Negan I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please!” You hiccuped. He sighed above you and ran his hand down your back.

“Alright baby.” He said, “Turn over for me.”

You didn’t dare wait to listen to him as you rolled over on your back, wincing when your sensitive skin hit the bedding. 

“Aw” He cooed at you mockingly, “You sore?” 

You blinked back tears and tried to pull yourself together but the dripping heat between your legs betrayed you. His brow furrowed as he looked down at you,

“There’s that look again.” He tsked and bent down over you, kissing and sucking on your neck. You moaned in pleasure and ran your hands up his back, pushing your breasts up against his bare chest. He slowly made his way down your chest, manhandling your breasts as he did. You opened your legs for him automatically, allowing him to fit between them as he kissed lower and lower, pulling your panties down the rest of the way.

He kissed over your lower stomach and hips and you giggled a little at the sensation.

He pretended to ignore it but he couldn’t help but smile into your skin. He was so enamored by your youth and beauty, your softness, the pretty little noises you made for him. He’d almost forgotten he was supposed punishing you. Almost.

The sight of him between your legs was heavenly, looking up at you with those dark hazel eyes, his salt and pepper beard scratching against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he kissed them, getting closer and closer to your aching core. 

“Negan wait!” You stopped him right before he reached where he wanted, grabbing at his hair.

He slowly raised up from where his mouth was inches away from your pussy, his breath hitting you in the most delicious way.

“Yeah?” He asked, almost exasperatedly.

“I’ve um...” You started, feeling your face grow hot from embarrassment, “I’ve never had anyone...do that to me before.” 

“What? This?” He asked and ran his tongue between your lips, flicking your clit up and down. You gasped and your head fell back, hitting the bed. He continued making lazy circles on your clit with his tongue. It felt insane, unlike anything else you’d ever had. You whined as you felt yourself coming close to the edge already.

Negan continued his assault on your pussy until your legs were shaking over his shoulders, you were so close to coming when he pulled away. You whined at the loss and sat up, grabbing at him without even thinking.

“You’re not getting it that easily sweetheart.” He said as he rubbed your thighs, his beard glistening with your arousal. You gasped, the throbbing between your legs almost painful. You tried to close your legs but he held them open forcefully.

“Do it again.” You whimpered, “It feels so good Negan please.” His eyes darkened at the way you begged for him. His cock was impossibly hard in his jeans. He wanted to give it to you so bad but he couldn’t have you thinking you could mouth off the way you did and just get away with it.

“Well since you asked so nicely.” He leaned back down and spit harshly on your cunt. You fell back against the bed with a moan.

“Fuck yeah.” You moaned, gripping his hair and rolling your hips against his face. He laughed, the vibrations running through you, only making you feel better.

“Godamn,” he gasped, still so close to you, “Can’t believe I’m the first guy to taste this sweet pussy.”

He dipped his tongue into your hole, curling it, fucking up into you. You let out the most beautiful moan when he did that, full of desperation. It only fueled him further, he rubbed your clit quickly with his fingers as he licked and sucked on your walls. 

You gasped and cried, riding his tongue as he guided your hips with a vice grip. The pleasure was so intense, tears started to spring to your eyes. You could feel the pressure of your release building within you and you gripped Negan harder as you felt yourself approaching the edge. 

Suddenly, he pulled his tongue out of you, leaving you a moaning crying mess.

“Negan” You whined and fisted the sheets, tears beginning to spill down your face.

“Fuck.” He laughed, kissing up your cunt until he reached your clit before pulling away entirely, “She tastes so fucking good.”

His words had you in a tailspin. You forgot about everything: the terrible things you’ve had to do for your survival, all that you’ve lost, the horrific things you’ve seen Negan do. None of it mattered, all that mattered was how fucking good his tongue felt in your pussy. 

“Negan.” You gasped, sitting up and grabbing his shoulders, desperately, “Why aren’t you letting me come?”

He chuckled cruelly at your wrecked expression, tears streaming down your face from the two orgasms he’d already denied you.

“You know why sweetheart,” He murmured as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone, collecting some of the tears on your face with it, “I can’t let you come ‘till I’m sure you learned your lesson.” 

“Please.” You whined, “Give it to me please, I want it so bad.” You gasped and let one of your hands run down his body, cupping his hard length through his pants. Your eyes widened as you felt how big he was, meeting his smug expression as he watched your reaction. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish baby.” 

You shook your head almost violently and, before you could stop yourself, you reached for his belt, pulling him closer to you and making him grunt.

“I want it.” You said, your lips brushing against his. You shocked yourself, you were usually strong and hid your true feelings but this man brought out something primal in you. You were still chasing those orgasms he’d ripped away from you. Your pussy throbbed painfully and you were willing to do anything to get that release.

“You got to taste me.” You slowly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. You slipped your hand under his waistband and found his cock, running your hand up and down his shaft.

 “You wanna suck my cock, sweetheart?” He murmured, looking down at you through hooded eyes.

You bit your lip and nodded, your eyes desperate as you looked at him through wet eyelashes.

“I’m gonna need you on your knees then.” He said lowly. 

You shakily got to the ground, your knees resting on the cold floor. He stood, looking down at you, satisfied with your obedience.

“Fuck you look real pretty like this.” He sighed, “Right where you fucking belong.”

You freed his cock from his pants and ran your hand up and down his shaft, feeling how painfully hard he was. He was thick and long with precum already leaking from his tip.

You couldn’t help but think how it was fitting that Negan’s dick would be just as sexy and intimidating as he was.

“You gonna suck my dick or what?” His voice was laced with amusement at you gawking at him.

“Sorry.” You mumbled and covered the plush tip of his cock with your lips, sucking softly as you eased yourself down his length.

“It’s ok baby.” He sighed, “I’ve got a nice dick, can’t blame you for staring.”

You rolled your eyes as you took more of him into your mouth. He was as egotistical as always but you couldn’t even blame him at this point. He had equipment worth bragging about.

You focused on him as you bobbed your head up and down rhythmically, stroking the length that couldn’t fit inside your mouth with your hand.

He threw his head back and rested his hands on the back of your head as you slipped his dick in and out of your mouth

“Fuck” he moaned lowly, “You love suckin cock don’t you.”

You hummed around his length as you enthusiastically bobbed your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks to make the feeling more intense.

His hips jutted up and his cock slid further down your throat, gagging you.

“Yeah? You like that?” He began to move his hips more, fucking into your mouth, “You like choking on my fucking cock?”

You couldn’t even respond, you just made obscene noises as you gagged around him, letting him use you.

You reached an almost meditative state while your tongue ran along the veins of his cock. Choking every time the huge head of it hit the back of your throat. You just let go, let him have control. You didn’t think about anything else, all your senses were filled by him. It felt so good to just forget about everything, nothing mattered at this point except pleasing Negan.

-

Even though you were more than willing to swallow his cum, he insisted on stopping and pulling you up to the bed again. After pulling his pants all the way off, he had you straddling his lap, his dick running along the wet lips of your pussy.

“Come on,” he said huskily in your ear, his breath hitting your neck, “Tell me how badly you want it.”

“Want it so bad please.” You whined immediately, your pathetic desperation making him chuckle lowly.

“I’ll be good for you.” You looked up at him, your lips still puffy from when you’d sucked him off, your eyes red and hair messy.

Negan decided he really liked how you looked when you were drunk off his cock.

“Fuck me, please.” You bit your lip and batted your eyelashes just for good measure.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He murmured, cupping your face in his hand, “Just gotta ask you one question.”

You watched as his expression darkened and he moved the hand that was so lovingly holding your cheek down under your jaw. He started squeezing your neck, the sensation made your head spin.

“Who are you?”

You gasped as his long fingers dug into the soft skin of your neck. You relaxed back onto his bed, the feeling of him surrounding you.

Watching him through hooded, tear stained eyes, the lighting in the room softened. A glow of light surrounded him, making him look like some sort of god.

“I’m Negan.” You sighed, rocking your hips against his dick, loving the way he felt up against you.

“Good girl.” He whispered in your ear and filled you up in one thrust, making you gasp and dig your fingernails into his back.

“Oh my God.” It came out in a broken whine as he stretched you, impaling you on his cock.

He groaned lowly in your ear as he started to thrust in and out of you. “You’re fucking tight baby.”

You could only respond with moans as he started to fuck you faster, hitting deep inside of you. You held onto him for dear life as he fucked your brains out, holding onto your hips so hard you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow.

You didn’t care, you loved how rough he was. You loved the urgency and power of his thrusts as he fucked deeper into you than you thought possible. You loved how his fingers felt digging into your ass, you needed more.

“Negan,” You managed in between moans, “H-hurt me. Please”

His eyes lit up and he put his hand around your throat again, making you clench around his cock.

“You like gettin’ hurt don’t you darlin’” he said softly against your temple, you could tell he was smiling.

He pulled out of you and flipped you over, slipping back into you easily.

“You really want it to hurt?” He started pounding into you impossibly hard, hitting your g spot over and over again.

“Oh my god-oh my god.” You moaned over and over again, reaching behind you to grab onto some part of him.

He pulled you up against his chest and wrapped a rough hand around your neck for the third time, fucking up into you at a punishing pace. He felt unbelievably good inside of you, you felt yourself hurtling to the edge quickly. Your legs started shaking as you got close.

“Negan.” You whined as he let you back down on the bed, “I’m-oh fuck.”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence because you were already coming.

“Good fucking girl.” He moaned as he pulled you back on his dick roughly, “Come on my fucking cock, just like that.”

You whimpered at his praise, you were so glad that he was satisfied with you. You’d taken your punishment so well. And now you were being so good for him, letting him fuck you as hard as he wanted.

His thrusts started to get sloppier and you could tell he was chasing his own orgasm. Your heart pounded with anticipation.

“You close baby?” You heard it tumble past your own lips. You surprised yourself, you’d always felt stupid when you tried to talk dirty but it felt natural with Negan.

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned, grabbing your ass.

“I want your cum so bad.” You moaned, feeling your pussy throb around him as you felt another orgasm building up in your stomach.

Your words only spurred him further, fucking you viciously as he sent you over the edge again. This time he let go with you, moaning loudly into your hair as he came deep inside of you. Your body shuddered as you felt the way his warm seed coated your walls, you’d never felt that before and it was amazing.

You sat there for a moment, him still inside of you. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your spine before slowly pulling out of you. You let yourself go limp against the mattress.

You laid there trying to catch your breath, unable to move, unable to talk, filled with his cum.

You looked up at him and he smiled at you, his tatted chest heaving. He leaned forward, over your body.

“Now that.” He whispered pointing at you, “Is the look I wanted see.”

-

He flopped down next to you on his bed, not bothering to clean his spend off of you. He sighed as he reached into the table next to him, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

He let out a little moan of satisfaction as he took a drag and blew the smoke out. The smell surrounded you and you were suddenly transported back to high school, back to when everything was normal.

Memories of you and your friends sneaking out of class to smoke cigarettes under the bleachers flooded your mind. It smelled like before, like safety. You quickly reached over to take the cigarette from him without even thinking.

He slapped your hand as your fingers brushed his wrist,

“Ah-use your fuckin manners.” He scolded you, but the corner of his mouth pulled up a little.

“Please?” You rested your head on his chest, batting your eyelashes up at him again. He smiled and brought the cigarette to your lips, letting you inhale some smoke.

Hesitantly, you snuggled further into his chest, tentatively wrapping an arm around his waist. He didn’t stop you, just put an arm around your shoulders and took another drag from his cigarette.

You sighed as you lay against him. Maybe it was the aftermath of your orgasms but for the first time in years you were feeling content and safe. You focused on the way his chest moved under you, the way his rough fingertips caressed your lips as he let you take another drag from his cigarette. Everything just stood still, and you felt okay.

You tried not to think about the gravity of the situation. You had done what you promised yourself you wouldn't, and it had been better than you ever could've imagined.

You knew it and he knew it: you were his now.

~

I knew it was wrong

I’m beyond it

I tried to be strong

But I lost it

A/N: hehehehe hope y’all liked this. sorry it ended up being so long I just kind of went with a length and flow that felt right. Negan’s just so hot I just needed to include everything sex-wise teehee. Also he needed to eat some pussy like…he’s a piece of shit so he has a lot to make up for. Ik there isn’t really aftercare besides him j letting her chill with him but who knowssss maybe I’ll write more Negan fluff in the future. I’m j obsessed w him and I wanna be his little whore HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA OK BYE

[depravitycentral]

Enji Todoroki General Yandere Profile

Yandere! Enji Todoroki x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, power imbalances, financial trapping, mentions of physical/domestic abuse, mentions of non-con, sexist undertones, Enji wants you to be his cute little housewife, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, a few mentions of making sure you eat enough/food, Enji is patronizing whoo boy, he makes you share a toothbrush and yes he's weird about it, this is set in a divergent timeline where Enji and Rei are formally divorced and his relationship with his family is loose and not super tight, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Kind

Enji is, simply, harsh.

His quirk, his mannerisms, his attitude, his everything, really, is a bit rough around the edges, forming a man with only enough self control to get what he wants. He’s lived his whole life bitterly, constantly jealous, constantly wanting, willing to throw everything away in order to achieve his goals.

And once everything starts caving in around him, his family and career both taking unexpected turns, Enji finds himself so, so painfully alone. He doesn’t pretend to delude himself into thinking he’s not deserving of his fate, but this places him into a position where he shoulders the guilt while desperately trying to find any outlet to forget it.

And this is where a darling who is kind comes into play – he needs someone who won’t judge him for his past. He needs someone who doesn’t treat him like scum, who is still polite and empathetic to him and his emotions. A darling who is able to consistently praise him will have him smitten quickly, growing emotionally dependent on hearing their sweet words in order to function, in order to not let the depression and stress get the better of him.

And even once his obsession has formed and he’s deep in the depth of his infatuation, a darling who is just too kind to kick him to the curbside is absolutely essential for him – they must be doting and caring, helping rebuild his shattered confidence and psyche, and with every compliment they dish out, Enji vows that he’ll return the sentiment tenfold, in his own way of course.

(This means buying his darling millions of yen worth of their favorite things, all kinds of wonderful gifts that he hopes will sway them in his favor, that will get them drooling over him and all that he can provide for them.)

Hardworking

Although he’s in a mental state that leaves him much more susceptible to finding a partner once he divorces Rei, Enji is still a picky man. He won’t fall for just anyone – no, they must fit his standard, be acceptable and meet the rather long and detailed checklist he has for those he considers as potential romantic partners.

And near the top of this list is determination. He’s a man motivated by his own goals and is willing to stop at nothing to achieve them – and so, a darling that can at least somewhat match this aspect of his personality is critical.

He has no patience for a darling that gives up easily; he wants someone that’s willing to put in the effort to see it pay off, someone who understands the concept of self-discipline and holding yourself to certain moral standards.

He finds it wildly attractive when someone has strong character, and his interest would immediately be piqued with a darling who brings an attitude of perseverance and hard work into every aspect of their life, be it work, their hobbies, their relationship, and everything in between.

He wants someone who is perhaps not quite as stubborn as him, but is still serious in their goals.

(He hopes that one day, making him happy and pleasing him will be one of these goals – just as pleasing his darling is one of his own. And he’s more than happyto please them in whatever way they so desire. More than happy.)

Motherly

Because he views his darling as the perfect wife, his darling absolutely must possess at least somewhat of a motherly air about them. He likes the idea of having a nurturing partner, if only because he finds it endearing when they care for others.

As a hero he shares this sentiment, and although it may sometimes be overshadowed by his need to become the best, deep down inside he does very much wish to help others – his methodology is just a little more violent, a little more overt.

His darling, by contrast, should prefer a methodology that’s much gentler, something that focuses more on making others feel safe and heard and cared for.

Besides, Enji very much desires to have children with his darling; to build a second family, one that he’ll care for and nourish much better than his first. And so, if his darling is to be a good mother, they must embody these traits.

Besides, although he doesn’t fall for his darling because of his fantasies of making them a mother, once the feelings are formed these daydreams only further his feelings, deepening his obsession because oh, he’d give absolutely anything to see them pregnant with his child, carrying his seed, creating something that symbolizes the love and dedication between them.

And so, his darling needs to be someone who naturally takes care of others – and in return, Enji will take care of them. Just how it should be.

Pushover

This trait is a bit less crucial compared to the others, but it’s still most definitely a positive from Enji’s perspective.

Of course he likes a darling who has strong opinions and stands up for them, but he loves a darling that will let him guide them through any hard decisions, or really any decisions at all.

Although he’s not as outright controlling with his darling, he still very much feels that he wears the pants in the ‘relationship’, and thus he is the one calling the shots.

A darling who is happy to let him take over their life like this is a massive help to him – he doesn’t have to fight for control, nor does he have to argue with them about why certain decisions really should be made by him as the more dominant partner, as the one who knows more about the world, as the man. It’s an outdated view and it’s one that he doesn’t really want to admit out loud, but he enjoys the idea of a partner who will revere him and allow him full control.

He wants to be loved and cherished, and in return for a love like this, he’ll do his best to provide for and take care of his darling in every way he possibly can – so really, if his darling knows what’s best for them, they’ll step back and let him make all the tough decisions.

They’ll nod and smile and agree with whatever he chooses, pressing a kiss against his cheek and telling him how much they trust him, how they know he’d never hurt them, how he only wants what’s best for them.

Just the thought makes something warm swell in his stomach, the level of trust making him feel wanted, needed, a concept so foreign that it almost feels wrong. But oh, how he likes it.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Controlling

But in a very, very strange way – a lot of what fuels Enji’s obsession is this desperate, innate need to right his wrongs. He’s very, very aware of how thoroughly he ruined his family, how horribly he treated Rei, how he was a poor excuse of a father and husband, and he sees his love with you as almost being his second try. With you, he can do all the things he should have done with Rei and his children – he should have been sweet and loving, a present father that cared about each of his children equally. He should have been a doting husband, spoiling his wife and making her feel loved and desired.

But he didn’t, and although Rei has long since divorced him, Enji finds himself feeling lonely, incomplete, restless to try again, to properly provide for a sweet little thing he can call his own. And this is where you come in – and from the moment he realizes his feelings for you are more than a simple attraction, he dives in head-first.

He decides he'll approach everything with you in a way as opposite from his previous marriage as possible – he's all grand, romantic gestures, always showing up with a bouquet of flowers in hand and just the slightest pink tint on his scarred cheeks.

The grand, romantic gestures are, of course, merely things he’s seen in rom-coms; the women always look happy when the love interest swoops in with flowers and gifts and pretty clothing, the beaming smile and large hug the man gets as a reward seeming very, very appealing to Enji, despite his rigid exterior.

(Just the thought of you hugging him has his heart racing – it’s something so intimate, so entirely new that it makes every nerve in his body stand on edge, a shiver running up his spine as he imagines the way your body would feel pressed against his, how you’d sigh and sink further against him, how you’d squeeze him and god, the view he’d get when he looks down to see your body pressed so tightly against him that not even a breath of air could separate you -)

He’s scouring through women’s magazines, burying his nose in the glossy pages and searching for ideas and clues as to what women enjoy as courting gifts.

(He has to scoff under his breath every time he sees a new dieting tip or regiment, internally frowning and worrying that you’re seeing these ads and potentially obsessing over your weight. The last thing he’d want is for you to be unhappy with your body – certainly not when he’s so very happy with it. Not to mention the nutritionally heinous foods the magazine recommends – he’d sooner have you eat raw paper than follow this ludicrous advice.)

He’s even caving and very, very awkwardly asking his female sidekicks and employees at his agency about their tips on how to seduce a woman. He struggles to make eye contact with them when he asks, his imposing figure almost reminding them of a shy, nervous teenage boy with the way he’s so earnest about his question, his eyes lighting up when they mention an idea he hasn’t tried yet, pressing them for details and specifics and you must tell me what to say to her – how does one follow up gifting a puppy?

It would be sweet, really, how devoted he is to making sure that you’re absolutely spoiled, that you get a whole variety of lavish gifts designed to sweep you off your feet. It would be wonderful, really, except that Enji has never understood the concept of being too much – which is how everything will start to feel very, very early on in this process.

 It was nice at first to receive a fresh bouquet of roses every morning at your desk with a handwritten card attached. (Written in impeccable handwriting, the cursive letters looping and elegant as they spell out short, simple, sweet messages signed with a capital E at the bottom, reading please make sure to eat enough today and that skirt looks lovely on you.)

 It was nice at first, but after the second week of daily bouquets and even a few finding their way to the doorstep of your apartment, the sight of the pretty red flowers makes a sinking feeling swirl in your gut.

(Enji notices this, dismayed and frustrated by your lack of a positive response, and decides to double down and just gift you bigger flowers, because maybe your lack of joy at receiving the bouquets is because they aren’t big enough, aren’t grandiose enough, aren’t good enough.)

It was nice to get the cute, small stuffed bunny on your desk one morning, and you’d even grown so fond of the little thing that you perched it on the edge of your desk, assuming it was a one-time gift. But it wasn’t – the stuffed animals kept coming, getting bigger and more detailed and much, much more expensive, you’re sure.

(Enji is careful to remove each and every price tag on every gift he sends you, simply because he doesn’t want you to feel that you owe him financially, nor does he want you to be swayed into accepting him as your partner by mere economic standing – that’s an asset that you’ll come to know, of course, but he’d rather lure you in via more traditional ways. It doesn’t exactly stay secret, though, because once the necklace with a delicate array of at least five diamonds in it arrives at your front door, your secret admirer’s wealth becomes very, very difficult to hide.)

He’s gifting you jewelry with more precious jewels and gold and silver than you could possibly wear, and outfitting your closet with all kinds of dresses and skirts out of materials and cuts you could never hope to afford for yourself.

(And, of course, they’re all tailored to fit you perfectly – how Enji managed to get your exact sizes is still a question that haunts you, one that makes you scared to upon the nicely wrapped boxes that you find in excess outside your front door.)

It’s all just too damn much – Enji is suffocating with his attempts to woo you, his every gift and gesture leaving you feeling uncomfortable. What he’s trying to do is very, very obvious – and it feels wrong. He’s the number one hero, a busy man with much more important things to be doing – so why is he going after you? And why with such ferocity?

His forwardness will scare you off, driving you to avoid him and grow suspicious of his motives, and Enji does not like this development. This wasn’t supposed to happen – you’re supposed to want him, to be seduced by all of his efforts, to be swept off your feet and swooned by his gifts and words (delivered with the grace of a garbage truck, of course, but the sentiment is there – even if looking at your pretty face distracts him, all the words leaving his head and making him stand there gaping like a fool).

 Enji doesn’t like it, and so he presses harder, stepping up the frequency and volume of his gifts, only effectively pushing you further and further away from him as you grow more uneased and unsettled. And if you were to confront him about it?

Well, this is where his controlling tendencies come into play – denying who he naturally is can only last for so long, and despite being a man with superb self-restraint, the moment that Enji feels you’re slipping from his fingers he’s morphing back into the man that commands your every move.

Suddenly he’s no longer presenting you with the newest shampoo you’ve been talking about (it’s salon grade, the best stuff out there, and much too expensive, but not for Enji – nothing is too expensive for him when it’s for you) but rather letting this expression wash over his face, one that you’ve never seen before.

It’s cold, remarkably so; his lips are pressed tightly together, his brows perfectly straight, those eyes lifeless as he tells you to stop fighting, go inside and change into the green dress I gave you last week. We’re going for dinner, and you’ll order the house salad and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Do you understand me?

 It’s weird and unexpected and scary, and it’ll have you immediately stuttering out a yes and scurrying inside, too frightened to disobey. And really, while Enji winces every time he does this, eventually he finds himself trying to justify it as simply ensuring your relationship will last.

Obviously it’s not good that he has to force you into these small, minor, inconsequential things (like going on a date with him or letting him accompany you home afterwards), but this is different from with Rei – you want this, right? You’re just too shy to tell him how flattered you are about all the attention he’s giving you.

You’re just playing coy, acting on your age-old feminine instincts to make men chase after you, to be demure and make your partner work for your affection and love. And eventually, Enji will convince himself that this is different, he’s wooing you and getting you into a relationship with him willingly – you want him.

You practically love him already – things are going well. They’re successful.

They have to be.

And so, while Enji doesn’t mean to be controlling, the end results is that although he plays the nice guy that spoils you and gives you anything your heart desires, at the end of the day he is the one in charge, and he is the one dictating your relationship.

And really, what can you do to stop him? He’s strong, both physically and with the general population – one word from him and you’d be hunted for like a madman, ostracized from the community, brought back to him like a pup to its owner.

You belong with him, and it’s his job to make you see that – even if you want to remain blind.

Possessive

Enji Todoroki doesn’t share. Once he decides that he wants you, you become unequivocally his.

Sure, he wants to do things a bit differently with you and get you to harbor more loving feelings towards him, but from the moment his infatuation forms you don’t really have a choice in the matter.

 You can pretend like you do, if it makes you feel better (and it will, because at least you can pretend that you have even an ounce of control in the relationship, that you aren’t just some adorable little thing he’s decided he wants hanging off his arm and warming his bed), but at the end of the day you’re subject to Enji’s whims.

And although Enji lets you harbor this fantasy of your relationship being truly consensual, the moment something occurs that threatens it, his true colors are shown. Namely, when he thinks your attention is veering away from him, his jealousy and anger become difficult to keep in check, his quirk acting up and letting off small sparks and flames all along his body. His fists clench and his jaw tightens when he sees another man around you, and although he tries to rationalize that the man likely doesn’t want anything to do with you, just simply being in your presence is enough to make Enji suspicious.

Even if the man isn’t talking to you or acknowledging you in any way, he’s anxious – he’s scared that something about this man will attract you, that you’ll somehow find him better than Enji.

Maybe the man is friendlier – Enji’s aware that he isn’t exactly the most approachable person on the planet.

Maybe he's funnier – Enji knows he can’t crack a joke to save his life.

Maybe he’s a better conversationalist – less formalities and awkwardness, able to get you laughing so hard you snort.

It makes Enji’s skin crawl, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s fisting his hands, and before long he will intervene. He’ll grab you as gently as he can on the elbow, guiding you carefully but quickly away to the other side of the room and physically maneuvering so that his body is blocking your sight of the man – and more importantly, blocking his sight of you.

He’ll try to talk with you, trying to distract you and get your mind off of the other man, all in an effort to get your attention back on him. He’s reminding you that you have him, that you don’t need some other man, that you already have one who’s capable of providing for you and caring for you as you deserve.

Frankly, he discovers just how deeply his feelings for you run in a situation where jealousy gets the best of him – you’d been approached at a small gathering by a man from another agency who was clearly hitting on you. He was leaning in close, smiling with a smarmy smirk and nursing on his cocktail like a lifeline.

Enji had noticed the two of you out of the corner of his eye, and immediately he’d gone stiff. He couldn’t stop staring at the way the man kept getting gradually closer to you, how he kept leaning in further, how his hand slid from his pocket to your shoulder, then your arm, down to your hand and oh, oh god, it looks like he’s bringing it down to your waist –

Enji had been by your side in mere moments, his gaze card and harsh as he’d stepped in front of you, making some poorly toned excuse about needing to speak with you for a moment, before unceremoniously dragging you away from the stupefied man.

From that day, Enji absolutely refuses to allow anyone close to you. And really, can he be blamed? After all, he fell for you, so why wouldn’t anyone else? You’re beautiful and caring, smart and dignified, and if he can see your potential as a lovely, perfect little wife, surely others can too.

And so, Enji ramps up his controlling tendencies the more he’s presented with situations where the green-eyed monster accompanies him. And this control takes its main form through financials – that is, while Enji originally didn’t want to attract you to him via his material wealth, he decides it’s a necessary evil in order to have you staying by his side only.

He starts ‘forgetting’ to peel off the price tags of the gifts he gives you, pretending not to notice how your eyes practically bug out of your head when you unbox the pink pendant he’d bought for you.

He starts inviting you out for lunches and dinners more often, ordering for you and choosing the most expensive items off the menu despite your numerous pleas that you’ll opt for something – anything – cheaper.

(It’s frustrating, too, because as angry as you want to be at him for ordering for you, he always chooses something you end up liking – of course it’s because he’s done extensive research and stalking, finding out your favorite foods and what flavors you dislike, but it all seems like one large, awfully strange coincidence to you.)

Exerting financial control over you keeps you complacent, because the guilt you’ll feel at how much money he’s sinking into you will have you following his every word, even if it his commands are a little strange and off-putting – like spending less time with any male friends (or really any friends for that matter) or slipping the small photograph of him into your purse (it’s weird and you do so hesitantly, making sure the polaroid is at the bottom of the bag – and trying to ignore the way his muscles are oh-so fucking defined in the tight black shirt he’s sporting in the photograph).

It’s all just a big ploy to keep you from running off with some other man – but really, if you somehow did manage to do that, Enji won’t be particularly merciful. He will be cornering the man as he leaves your apartment and he will be holding him by the neck against the cold concrete wall, threatening him to leave you alone or experience the rather unpleasant sensation of burning alive.

It’s not particularly heroic, but Enji doesn’t care – he can’t, not when the threat of you leaving him for another man is very much present and real. It’s too scary, too much for him to handle – it would mean you rejecting him, his second fuck-up in love, and the loss of someone who fits absolutely every one of his desires in a woman.

You’re too perfect for him to lose – so instead, he’ll own you.

Dependent

He will never admit it, but there’s this part of Enji that grows stronger day by day, every time he sees your face, that tells him in the most raw, real way that he absolutely needs you.

He’s essentially lost what he had of his family, and with the sharp uptake in responsibility as the new number one hero, the new symbol of modern peace, Enji finds himself turning to you in his time of need, in his more vulnerable moments.

Because really, though his exterior is tough and jaded, he’s only human – he too needs someone to love, someone to hold and latch onto, and latch he does. You’re his, and he expects you to understand that even if he doesn’t verbalize it.

He cherishes your very existence, each and every thing you do, finding you to be remarkably weak yet remarkably endearing, your inability to defend yourself simultaneously adorable and frustrating. He needs you to realize that you’re his everything; his whole reason for living now, even if he doesn’t give you many clues into this.

He isn’t the best at expressing his emotions, and although the love and desperation he feels for you is constantly overwhelming him, overflowing from his chest and making him dizzy, he doesn’t articulate just how deeply these feelings run.

Of course he’ll tell you how you’re beautiful, or that you’re my responsibility to protect, but he’ll also say significantly less romantic things like how you belong to him, how he's never letting you out that front door, how he’ll never let those disgusting, filthy villains touch something as perfect as you.

He thinks it’s sweet and exactly what you want to hear, but it’s not – it’s scary and strange and weird, but these are your biggest clues as to his dependence on you.He won’t tell you, but his expectations for you are honestly monumentally high; he wants you to be his perfect little wife, everything that Rei wasn’t, and this includes giving you every ounce of his love.

He wants you to be diligently cooking him hearty meals, keeping the house tidy and clean for the two of you, to be massaging his shoulders while he relaxes from a stressful day at work. (Hell, he even wants you to wear cute little aprons, collars with his name stitched onto them, those maternity/breast feeding bras before you’re even pregnant…)

He wants a domestic fantasy with you, and this extends to other, more vulnerable things as well. He expects you to embrace him as he walks through the door everyday returning home, to give him a light peck on the cheek and ask about his day, to let him hug you from behind and kiss your neck as you slave away over the stove.

He never really got the chance to do such loving things with Rei (not that he particularly wanted to), and as a result he honestly feels like he’s having to make up time, that he needs to be taking every single ounce of affection and love you can possibly give him, and he’ll feel no guilt at all.

He won’t outright ask you to cuddle him, but when he sits on the large, overstuffed leather couch and stares at you expectantly, you’ll quickly learn to run over to him and snuggle up into his side, to bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms and legs around him even if his body heat cooks you alive.

He won’t ever explicitly ask you to give him those fluttery, soft morning kisses he’s seen all the time in terrible corny rom-coms he religiously watched for inspiration while trying to court you, but the moment you smile sleepily at him and press a kiss against his lips while you holds you close in the morning glow?

God, it’s in those moments that he wants to give you absolutely everything he has – every part of his body, soul and heart, every single cent he owns, every piece of fame and fortune he’s ever amassed.

Enji just wants to please you, and although he comes off as an odd mix of demanding yet generous, terrifying yet strangely awkward, inside his heart is hammering against his ribcage every time you so much as smile at him, every time you so much as look at him. In the hazy afterglow of a round of passionate morning sex (in which you’ve realized that fighting will get you nowhere – it’ll only earn you an Enji that’s more frantic and desperate to get you moaning and crying out his name), when he latches onto your smaller, exhausted and sweaty body, pressing you as tightly against him as possible, sometimes his demeanor will crack.

He’ll lean down to deeply inhale the scent of your hair, to watch the way your chest rises and falls, and he’ll whisper in the softest of voices that he loves you, you’re the light of his world. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you, but Enji is hellbent on never finding out – after all, there is no chance of escape with him, and he’s sure you’ll learn your place soon.

After all, pretty, submissive girls like you always do.

DEALING WITH RIVALS: 

Enji is, regrettably, terrible at hiding his jealousy.

He’s always been in a constant state of envy, whether it was vying for the top spot in the heroing world against All Might, desiring the perfect offspring in order to have the Todoroki name and himself live on, and countless other examples. He’s prideful and so fucking jealous of everyone around him, and this is only heightened when it comes to you – his possessiveness over you is nothing to sneeze at, and the minute he feels that your attention is threatened, that you could possibly be yearning for another?

He’s wasting no time stepping in, mercilessly shutting down each and every opportunity you could possibly have of being with anyone other than himself.

As much as he’s loathe to admit it, his jealousy and possessiveness stems from a place of insecurity; he’s aware that he’s by no means the perfect partner, and he rationally knows that you could do much, much better than him.

And so, as a sort of panic-induced response, Enji decides that you simply aren’t allowed to interact with any other men – this way, you aren’t presented with the opportunity to even let the feelings form. And he’s diligent with this theory, too – he’s always standing near you, acting as your shadow with watchful, hawk-like eyes trained on your figure.

He’s never been the best at reading people, but he’s able to tell from miles away when someone approaches you with intentions that are less than innocent, and immediately his lips are thinning, his brows furrowing, his entire body temperature raising by five degrees because you’re his, and this piece of scum disguised as a man obviously doesn’t realize this.

He’s your guardian angel in many ways (though really, he takes the guardian portion much too far – even men who have no romantic intentions with you are viewed as potential threats, shooed away with a vengeance that will make them too afraid to even think about you without imagining themselves engulfed in flames), though at times it will make you feel more than a little patronized.

It’s as if he doesn’t trust you – you don’t really have a relationship, at least in your eyes, but you know the number one hero wants something more than friendship with you. And so, you do your best to avoid evoking his anger and wrath by not romantically involving yourself with another man – and yet that’s not enough for Enji.

It can’t be, simply because as pretty and sweet and smart as you may be, Enji will always know better. It’s a controlling tendency and a mildly sexist view, but he thinks of you as his doting, loving housewife-to-be, and it’s the man’s job to make these sorts of decisions.

You’re just too sweet and outgoing for your own good – you’ll get mixed up in all sorts of trouble if you’re not careful, and lucky little you has someone like Enji to watch out for you and make sure your pretty head has nothing to worry about. And so, Enji sticks to you like glue, warding off potential suitors with grueling stares and a presence and reputation too strong to ignore.

Enji’s day had been long, and one of those days that made him seriously question his abilities as a hero. A villain had managed to trick him, and although Enji had of course eventually arrested the perpetrator, his deception had led to a lot of wasted time and more damage to surrounding buildings than was acceptable.

His head was pounding, his body still feeling overly hot from all of the fighting, and though not normal, he’d decided he was done for the day and left the rest of the agency’s calls to his sidekicks. Leaving early had felt almost freeing in a way, the world looking a bit different with all this extra time – walking down the sidewalk, Enji scanned the windows of each shop he passed.

As per usual, you’d been on his mind all day – flashes of your face sitting just behind his eyelids, your name just a hair away on his tongue, the feeling of your phantom touch sending shivers down his spine. It was irritating, distracting, heavenly, and with each window he passed, he kept an eye out for anything you might like.

He’d gotten you a pretty tea cup set yesterday, and although you’d been hesitant and visibly uncomfortable at receiving such a gift (the set was very, very obviously expensive, the marbled china too perfect and pristine to have costed anything less than a year’s worth of your salary), Enji was eager to gift you something that would be received better today.

Streets passed by, nothing quite suiting his vision for what you deserved – he’d need something more subtle today, something simple and sweet and something he knows you like – The confectionary is small, with swirling black letters over a baby pink banner spelling out the name of the store. The windows are lined with all sorts of chocolates and candies, all wrapped up in pretty, ornate packaging that makes Enji immediately pick up his pace, practically storming into the small shop.

It smells like vanilla and sugar as the door shuts behind him, and although it makes him wince, he knows you’d love it. Shelves nearly as tall as him line the shop in narrow rows, displaying all sorts of sweets that he’s never heard of before – caramels, gumdrops, chocolates, lollipops, anything and everything under the sun.

He’s only been in the store for roughly five minutes, staring at a collection of truffles with furrowed brows and a downward curl of his lip when he hears a small laugh over the gentle, happy classical music playing quietly over the speakers. Immediately he’s perking up – the laugh sounds familiar; the lilt of it, the tonality, the soft intake of breath right after it stops.

His lips part, eyes going wide, and before he can even really control himself he’s rushing towards the source of the noise, his entire face growing warm when he sees you – you’re at the register, a few candies sitting on the wooden slab, your purse in hand as you fish for presumably your wallet.

You look gorgeous today – you’re wearing a shirt he’s never seen before and your favorite pair of jeans (the ones that make your ass look so, so very perfect – perfect to squeeze at, to grope and touch and smack and press himself against…), and although he’s briefly disappointed that you aren’t wearing an item of clothing that he’d gifted you, he notices the clerk all too soon.

The clerk – Hyoshi, his nametag says – is smiling at you. He’s all teeth, a grin that makes the hairs on the back of Enji’s neck stand up, his nostrils flaring because you’d been laughing, and it must be this man’s doing. This man, who’s visibly weak even under the ridiculous confectionary uniform he’s sporting – arms that couldn’t hope to lift even a fraction of what Enji can, a chest that isn’t ruggedly defined like the hero’s, and a stature that’s frankly pathetic compared to the frame of the redheaded man behind you.

Enji’s angry, and as the man opens his mouth to presumably say something else (potentially something that’ll make you laugh again), his words die on his tongue as he glances behind you to see the behemoth of a man who’s quite literally acting as your shadow.

His eyes widen and immediately he’s stuttering out a w-welcome in, Endeavor! At that, your shoulders go stiff, your mouth parting into an adorable little ‘o’ that Enji can practically see in his head, and you slowly turn around.

Oh, hello Endeavor, aren’t you normally on patrol right now?

Enji’s jaw works, and although a small part of him is pleasantly surprised that you’d remembered his patrol shift, your words only serve to further frustrate him. You knew it was his time on the clock – and yet, you’d still ventured out into the heart of downtown, completely on your own, defenseless except for the measly, very sad pepper spray you keep in that worn purse of yours – both of which he keeps pleading with you to let him replace.

(He’ll get you new pepper spray and a taser and a pocketknife, just because he knows how dangerous these streets can be, and with your pretty face and your pretty body he’s sure villains would be lining out the door to get a taste of you. And of course, the new bag – he’s bought you plenty, in a wide variety of styles and colors, each gift getting more and more desperate to be the one you finally deem as being good enough to use, but alas.)

Enji doesn’t even bother with a greeting, instead stepping up to the counter, slamming down his credit card and stepping in front of you. I’ll be paying for her sweets. His voice is cold, firm, and sends the clerk into a scurry to process the transaction, meanwhile you’re staring in mild shock from behind the hero.

Of course you’re not surprised – how can you be, when he insists on spoiling you in every possible way? And yet the raw animosity he’s radiating right now can’t be ignored – you get the feeling as if you’re somehow in trouble, though you can’t figure out what for. As soon as the card reader beeps, Enji’s scooping up the card and your sweets, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist just barely too tightly and marching out the door, telling the clerk over his shoulder to keep the receipt.

It takes every bone in his body to not turn back around and swing at the man behind the counter, his eyes shutting tightly in concentration as he tells himself that it’s not worth it, the media will find out, your reputation will be damaged. But as his eyes peel open and he realizes the way you’re squirming in his grip, he only sighs and releases you, those teal eyes of his appraising you with a frown.

You’re feeling guilty again, unsure of yourself as you gently rub your wrist, and for a moment Enji feels regret – did he hurt you? He hadn’t meant to, he’d just been angry and it was already hard enough to not harm the man who’d made you laugh, and surely you’d understand that he didn’t mean to –

You break the silence before he can voice his concerns, clearing your throat and thanking him in a meek voice. Enji merely nods, a small grunt your only response as he begins walking again, your sweets – and your purse – firmly in his hands, just so that you won’t have to carry them.

When you don’t immediately follow him, Enji pauses, looking back over his shoulder with a brow cocked.

What? Follow me – we have dinner reservations this evening, at that new seafood restaurant by the harbor. Fuyumi tells me it’s quite good; order the crab legs and the caviar.

There’s no room for disagreement in his tone, and for a moment you just blankly gape at him, the situation too strange for you to really process.

But all too soon his eyes are narrowing, and you’re practically tripping over your feet to follow him, keeping your gaze cast downwards as Enji’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you even though there’s not a civilian in sight on the desolated sidewalk he leads you down.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Honestly, Enji is complicated as a yandere; there’s a part of him that knows that there are aspects of his relationship with you that mirror that of his previous marriage. He knows that although you may not be treated as terribly (and that you have more purpose to him than simply an incubator), you’re still trapped, essentially a slave to his will.

And yet, as time passes and his dependence on you grows stronger, he can’t help but justify his actions, deciding that yes, you may be stuck with him, but at least he spoils you rotten with your favorite foods, expensive clothing and jewels, an unlimited supply for each and every hobby you may have. He may have you trapped between a rock and a hard place in terms of leaving him, but at least he genuinely loves you - he aches to spend time with you, to hold you in his arms, to feel your heartbeat against his ear, your lips against his, your body writhing below his.

He’s convinced himself that this time is different, that you’re different, and as such he eventually decides that it’s really in both your best interests to just relocate you, to get you officially by his side. It’s really paranoia that drives this decision – he’s a working hero and a man with many, many enemies, and so it’s really the only option that keeps you safe.

Stealing you away into his private home – he’s the sole inhabitant, aside from a cleaner or two, since moving out of the Todoroki household – is the best option for a multitude of different reasons. You’re safer this way – the state-of-the-art security systems he’s installed around the estate are the best money can pay for, able to detect intruders and any suspicious activity in the blink of an eye. Enemies don’t have much of a chance of getting inside, and even if they had managed to, Enji will be right there to burn them to a crisp for even daring to get close to his beloved.

And even aside from outside threats, keeping you trapped at home will allow him to keep an eye on you and make sure that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself – you’re ridiculously clumsy to him, your every action having him hold his breath slightly in anticipation, in fear that you’ll somehow trip or fall or bruise your pretty skin. Plus, this way he’ll know that you’re eating healthily and in the right quantities, that you’re getting proper exercise, that you’re relaxing as you should, that you’re spending adequate amounts of time in the interior courtyard he’d prepared in preparation for you.

(It’s beautiful, as loathe as you are to admit it – all kinds of flowers bloom along the walkways, bamboo and tall grasses and trees growing in neat lines and providing shade for the flowerbeds on hot summer days. There’s even a small stream flowing through it, the gentle trickling noise almost enough to cancel out the painful silence that exists between you and Enji when he decides to join you for your scheduled garden time in the afternoons – uninvited, as always, and yet still unable to sense how desperately you wish you’d get these times alone to yourself.)

Aside from your safety, keeping you in his home helps feeds into his domestic fantasies of the two of you – you’re so very precious to him, and from nearly the beginning of his obsession with you, he’s always viewed you as the perfect wife – specifically, the perfect housewife.

He’s a traditional man, believing in traditional gender roles, and although he doesn’t view you as being less-than based upon your status as a woman, he does expect certain things from you. He’s the breadwinner, the strong, capable one who provides you with a roof over your head, food, and any gift under the sun the moment you make even the slightest inclination of wanting it.

And in return, you’re to be his caring, nurturing wife – the one who keeps the house neat and tidy, a room dedicated to only cleaning supplies that you get always stay stocked and ready for you, should you become inspired and wish to fulfill this domestic fantasy of his. The cleaning products are all diluted down to a level that wouldn’t be dangerous if you were to ingest them – you’d get sick, surely, but it’s nothing a home-trip from a doctor who’s been sworn to secrecy can’t handle.

There’s also, unfortunately, a drawer within the room that a particularly bored you had one day opened only to immediately slam it shut. Dozens of cleaning outfits sat neatly folded in the drawer, the black and white getups looking much too tight and much too short. A few weeks later you’d returned to the drawer, bored out of your mind while Enji was away at work, peeling one out with careful and trembling fingers. And of course, to no one’s surprise, the outfit fit like a fucking glove – hugging your curves and accentuating them, the skirt full and flouncy and very easy to flip up, the bustline practically choking your breasts with how tightly the black cotton pressed them together. You’d changed out of it shortly after, the rather disturbing and shameful fleeting question of whether this was the type of thing Enji liked making you too disgusted, guilty, and bashful to really consider.

In his idealized domestic world, you’d cook for him, too, but it takes a very long time for him to trust you enough to not purposefully burn or cut yourself in the kitchen. He has daydreams about coming home from a hectic work day to see you standing over the stove in a cute apron, humming some song and lighting up when you hear the door open and close, his announcement of being home making you practically bounce on your heels.

He wants to have you cook for him, to see you slave in the kitchen putting every ounce of your concentration and time into making him a meal you know he’ll enjoy, but that fantasy has to wait for the time being – just until he thinks you’ve finally lost that rebellious streak of yours, just until you finally come to realize that you belong by Enji’s side.

And so, in the meantime he’ll have you make him small things that hold little potential for you to hurt yourself with – simple sandwiches with pre-sliced ingredients, so that you won’t cut yourself chopping tomatoes or slicing bread. He'll have you prepare a sandwich for him and one for yourself, too, ordering you to sit down at the dining table with him and share a meal – though the conversation is hard to come by, and each attempt he makes at starting it is only met with single word answers from you.

(Another domestic fantasy he harbors but would never tell you about is to have you sitting with him at the table, looking at him with those pretty eyes and your voice dropping to a sultry volume, your chopsticks bringing the food you diligently and loving prepared for him up to his lips, your tone teasing as you tell him to open wide! He’d keep eye contact the whole time he chews, never once breaking it as he tells you in that low, gruff voice of his that it’s perfectly done, the seasoning is impeccable. He wants you to be bashful, to smile and hide it with your hand, your lashes fluttering as you glance at him then back to the food again, too shy to say much but your body language showing just how much his praise effects you, just how good it feels to be the center of his attention, the apple of his eye, his absolute everything.)

He wants you to be his sweet housewife, and although he won’t force you into any of the work, it’s extremely obvious what he wants of you – he’s always telling you about when you get adjusted, how you’ll be more open to fulfilling your role.

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be happy to iron his clothes; perhaps you’ll spritz a bit of the perfume he buys you onto his shirts, just as a reminder of you during his long days.

(As if he needs a reminder – certainly not, when you’re on his mind nearly every minute of the day.)

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be pleased to see the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands, your voice riddled with joy as you announce the good news to him, watching him drop the phone and keys in his hand and instead hoist you into the air, spinning you with a grin on his face so bright it nearly blinds you, concluded with a passionate kiss and a few tears on his cheeks because he just can’t fucking wait to have you as the mother of his child.

It’s all this talk of ‘when this’ and ‘when that’, but the strange thing about Enji as a captor is that he’s incredibly patient with seeing these fantasies come to fruition – sure, he may be forcing you into being a housewife just as he did with Rei, but this is different – you get a choice about some of it, unlike her. You don’t have to do the dishes, but you can if you’d like. You don’t have to bear his children, but you can if you’d like.

(And frankly, it’ll be hard not to – once your need for human contact and your strange, mixed feelings for him grow, you’ll eventually give into his requests for intimacy, and once the floodgates are open, you will end up pregnant from the sheer frequency and volume at which he pumps you full of his cum.)

All that being said, life as Enji’s captive will honestly not be too terrible – he’s still following you around the house like a shadow, but he’ll let you sleep in your own bed at the start, let you have your own bedroom and bathroom, and he won’t even force you into spending time with him at the beginning.

Because really, as tortuous and painful as keeping you away from him is, he repeats the mantra over and over in his head that eventually it’ll be worth it – eventually you’ll see things his way, and eventually you’ll come to see just how deeply his feelings for you run. You’ll realize that he’s only ever loved you, that he cares for you more than any other man possibly could, that he only has your best interests at heart – that’s why he always swung by your apartment at the end of his patrols, peering in at you through your windows, just to make sure you were safe and sound.

That’s why he kidnapped you, to ensure your safety and keep you in the arms of the only man truly capable of providing for you, just as you deserve.

That’s why he’ll never let you escape him, no matter how you beg and plead for your freedom – you don’t understand the outside world like he does. You think you do, but each villain he arrests is a nail in the coffin of your freedom – you have no fucking clue how dangerous the world is, and Enji isn’t hesitant to remind you of this.

You’re unhappy with him? Well, your options are here, in his warm house where he’s willing to give you every ounce of his attention, love, and touch, or out in the big, scary world where women like you are easy targets for men who love destroying easy targets.

So really, you’re in the best hands with Enji – he knows how to take care of you, and he’ll spoil you with every possible treasure you could want. What’s not to be happy about?

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, Enji doesn’t ‘do’ punishments. Because he views his relationship with you as his second try at finding a companion, there is no part of him that actively desires to hurt you. He loves you, in some sick, twisted way that’s much too obsessive and desperate to ever be considered healthy, but it’s still love nonetheless.

And as such, Enji does genuinely want your relationship to be as wholesome and sweet as possible; he wants you to want him, to actively choose to spend your time with him, to want to be in his presence every moment of every day. He wants everything to be as perfect as possible – the idealized life, a life where he’s the number one hero coming home to his lovely wife who cherishes him and he cherishes in return.

And so, when you do something that doesn’t quite line up with this fantasy, Enji is understandably upset. Why can’t you just accept that this is your reality now? Why do you insist on fighting him, even when you know you won’t win? How could you?

He’s Enji Todoroki, Endeavor the Flame Hero, and you’re just you. You’re pretty, of course, and smart and sweet and caring, but you’re still just you. There’s nothing you can do against someone like him – which is why Enji is able to excuse your poor behavior most of the time.

He understands; it’s difficult to accept that you’re weak and powerless, and he understands that when you lash out and act out, you’re just expressing frustration and fear at being taken care of so wholly and completely by someone so much stronger than you. It must be scary, after all – Enji can be so intimidating and he knows it, so he’ll try his absolute best to calm down anytime his anger starts to flare.

The last thing he wants to do is harm you, and he wants everything in your relationship to be as different as possible from that with Rei – and hurting you in any way would too closely resemble his previous marriage, ruining the beautiful illusion he can live under with you.

And so, most of the time Enji is able to grit his teeth and shut his eyes, letting the anger subside by telling himself about all the wonderful things about you – things that always get him feeling calmer, that make the buzzing sensation in his head and the suffocating feeling of anger dissipate. Nine times out of ten, he’s able to calm himself down this way – and if that’s not enough, normally exiting the room and getting a breath of fresh air is enough. He’ll tell himself that he absolutely cannot fall into the same habits he did with Rei – you’re different, you’re special, and he’ll calm himself down as often as he needs to in order to avoid being seen by you as the big, scary man who will hurt you if you disobey him.

Thus, getting Enji angry enough to the point where he can’t simply calm himself down is actually quite difficult – generally, this involves you hurting yourself. Most other things he can twist into seeming not so bad, rather just being you not having adjusted to life as his woman quite yet. He can write off your escape attempts as you still clinging to this ludicrous sense of independence you seem so hellbent on keeping.

Attempts to harm him can be discarded as your misplaced sense of anger at your situation, because although in your heart of hearts he’s sure you’re happy to be in your natural familial setting (as the wife of a strong, capable man of course), you’ve confused yourself by trying to reject something that’s just so right.

Of course these events don’t make him happy, but they’re able to be disregarded – but when your blood is drawn by your own accord, even Enji can’t pretend this is something else. This is you purposefully trying to injure yourself, purposefully trying to show him that you aren’t happy, that you don’t want this – an idea that makes him panic, that sends his fists clenching, that gets him pacing and his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to set you straight without harming you. And so, Enji eventually decides that after he cleans up your injury, rather than simply hitting you

and physically showing you that he won’t stand for this sort of misbehavior, he has to be more restrictive with you. He won’t be so lenient for the days following your bad behavior – you won’t be so spoiled, your rights won’t be so freely handed to you.

You must understand that Enji is charge, and that he’s being generous and loving and kind by allowing you such free reign around your shared home. Really, he doesn’t need to be so generous – and he’ll teach you that an angry Enji is much, much worse than the normal doting, lovesick Enji you’re used to.

Enji is frozen as he opens the front door. He’d come home a bit early from running some errands, the groceries in his hand dropping onto the hardwood floors below him. His jaw is dropped a bit, the sight of your bright red blood staining your forearm making a wave of sickness wash over him.

Who did this?

Who could’ve hurt you like this? There’d been no security alerts while he was gone, and there was absolutely no way that you’d left the interior of this house in the two hours he was gone. In the next breath he’s rushing forward into the kitchen, by your side before you can even blink, paying no mind to the way you gasp and stumble away from him, as if you’re afraid of him.

It makes Enji’s chest ache, but the sight of your blood is too distracting for him to focus on the uncomfortable ache. Instead, he’s thrusting your arm under the kitchen sink, the lukewarm water making you wince ever so slightly as it runs over the wound.

Enji’s brows furrow as he examines your arm; the cuts are long, zigzagging in every direction in a way that looks strange, not like any normal attack pattern he’s seen before. This doesn’t look natural, either – not like a regular scratch, not like you just slipped and fell and had unfortunate luck. No, this looks like something else entirely – like something purposeful, like their appearance marring your pretty skin isn’t accidental in the least. It’s only then that Enji sees the glinting silver fork out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the edge of the counter with a bit of red staining the ends.

Immediately his body is freezing, his grip on your arm squeezing tighter as the gears turn in his mind. You must have…

His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth, those blue eyes of his slanting over to look at you with such intensity and anger that you physically shrink in on yourself. His grip is too firm for you to pull your arm back, Enji absolutely unwilling to let you run away from this.

Did you do this to yourself?

His voice is surprisingly even, given the look on his face, and immediately you’re shaking your head, your entirely body paralyzed with fear. You’ve never seen Enji look this scary before – or at least not towards you.

Your answer only serves to further anger him, it seems, because soon he’s literally snarling, his face twisted up into this ugly look of  rage that’s only heightened by the scar across his eye.

Don’t lie to me, I will always be able to tell when you’re untruthful with me. He pauses, taking a deep breath, his voice just the slightest bit unsteady. Did you do this to yourself?

This time you nod yes, tears prickling at your eyes and starting to spill down your cheeks, and at the sound Enji makes, they only flow faster. He looks like he’s in more pain than you are – his face is red, and a few flames lick up around his shoulders. The heat washes over you, and soon the begs are slipping off your tongue before you can help yourself.

Enji pays you no mind, every ounce of his self-control going towards not slapping you in the face for your blatant stupidity. Soon he’s letting go of your hand, stomping towards the small first aid kit he keeps in the kitchen, entirely silent as he carefully wraps your arm in bandages, not paying your rambling any attention or mind.

As soon as you’re securely bandaged, he leaves the room and you hear the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut reverberating throughout the house.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, with you somehow getting from the floor of the kitchen where you’d laid down and eventually fallen asleep all the way to your bed, with the blankets carefully slotted over your body.

Nothing seems to be amiss the next morning, your footsteps cautious as you approach the bathroom, your brows shooting up when you notice that the counter is completely bare – your toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash are all missing, as are all the expensive lotions and facial scrubs Enji normally keeps in piles for your convenience.

The kitchen is empty, too, you notice – the silverware drawer is completely empty, and there are no cups or mugs of any sort in any of the cupboards. It’s unnerving, and immediately you’re getting goosebumps all over your body, the air feeling prickly and cold, as if there’s something lurking that you don’t know about. Biting your lip, you make your way to the table, gingerly sitting down and trying not to jostle the bandages too much – the bandages that had been changed, you distantly notice.

A few minutes later, Enji joins you in the kitchen, his expression not exactly jovial, but not particularly hostile. He greets you as he normally does, before placing the mug you now notice is in his hand under sink. The sound of rushing water gets your mouth watering, not having realized how thirsty you were until this moment.

Wide eyes watch him turn towards you, making his way to your seated figure with slow, heavy steps that get your heart thudding in his chest. He stops right next to you, before telling you to open your mouth. Hesitantly, you do as he says, jerking slightly when his fingertips – always unnaturally warm – cup your chip and bring the cup up to your lips, the water cold as you’re forced to drink it.

Enji watches with neutral eyes, though you see the corner of his lip curl up slightly as you drink the entire glass, the pacing of the water flow nearly too much and nearly choking you. Soon it’s gone, and Enji uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your lips.

Since yesterday’s little spectacle has shown me that you can’t be trusted with basic household supplies, let me know if you require another drink, if you’d like to brush your teeth, or if you’d like to wash your hair. You obviously can’t do it alone, so I will be joining you. Now, go lay down on the couch. I need to change your wrappings again.

You’re dumbfounded, watching him keep the mug in his grasp as he heads towards the living room. And though the threat seems too extreme, Enji means it – you only last a few hours before you reluctantly ask for another drink, your throat too dry and sore to go without it.

And that night, when you shamefully ask him for your toothbrush, you’re not particularly pleased to find out that he’ll be the one brushing your teeth, using his very own toothbrush to get the job done, just to make sure you don’t even think about trying to choke yourself with the brush.

(And when you finally have to shower, well, Enji’s face turns bright red when you ask, rushing to his feet much too quickly, grasping your hand and practically pulling you to the bathroom before applying all sorts of soaps and scents to the bath he draws for you. His breath is hitched as he turns around so you can change in privacy, but don’t be surprised to see him sneaking glances at your bare body beneath the water’s bubbly surface. Don’t be surprised when later that night you hear a suspiciously rhythmic thumping sound and muffled groans through the wall that  your bedrooms share, the faintest wet, squelching noise accompanying them.)

And, roughly a week later when you wake up to the cups and mugs back in the cupboard and your shampoo back in the shower, you’ll decide against hurting yourself anytime soon. It’s not worth it – not if that’s how you’ll be treated; forced to ask permission for your basic needs.

And Enji couldn’t be more pleased – now you’ll think twice about using that fork again, or anything else for that matter.

(And he can still force you into using his toothbrush – under the guise of furthering your bond and intimacy, of course. And because he’ll use it after you, savoring the feeling of the bristles against his tongue like some sort of drug.)

OVERALL DANGER:

 7/10

Enji isn’t necessarily dangerous, but rather inevitable.

He’s a determined man, driven by motivation for his goals, no matter the methods he uses to get there. And once he sets his sights on you, deciding that he wants you, that he loves you, you’re certainly no different – he will have you, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and really, what sway do you have?

He’s a professional hero, known in the public sphere responsible for saving more lives than you could ever hope to, and who are you? You’re just a pretty face, a woman who happened to have the exact set of traits and physical appearance that Enji finds desirable – you have no real way to combat him, and who would believe you, anyway? Enji is the new symbol of peace – as far as the Commission is concerned, he can have whatever the hell he wants, and if that one thing is some civilian, then you can kiss your freedom goodbye.

But really, all things considered, Enji isn’t too terrible – he’s trying desperately to right his wrongs, to love you in a way that prioritizes your happiness and is just better, and although you’re certainly not happy being trapped by his side, he can at least pretend like this is better.

He wants you to be his pretty little thing, to be his housewife and treat him like your devoted, loving husband. He wants you to greet him with a kiss on the lips when he comes home from work, helping him out of his jacket and asking about his day, then lead him into the clean kitchen where you’ve got dinner waiting for him, then join him in the shower and then the bed, letting his hands wander to where they please, then fall asleep on his chest, letting him feel like he’s protecting you even in his sleep.

Is that really so much to ask for? Enji thinks not – besides, isn’t that the dream for you?

All you have to do is let him take care of you, to spoil you with flowers and chocolates and jewelry and all sorts of things that make women swoon. You’ll be spoiled rotten, treated like a goddess, and all you have to do is let Enji make all the decisions for you, to let him take control of your life and your future – it’s better this way, he promises.

This way, you’ll be properly cared for, kept safe and secure and comfortable by his side. You may not see it yet, but Enji is sure this is really what you want – you’ll come around eventually, he’s sure of it.

And if you don’t? Well, at least he’s not a monster, right?

[vettelsdarling]

Darling, thank you for the AMAZING writing for my last request. <3 I am here with…HAMILTON! Here’s the prompt: 5+1: 5 times Lewis calls Y/N by a pet name and one time Y/N finds one for Lewis. I definitely think Lewis would shower his words of endearment and I am imagining a shy, blushing Y/N? Perhaps Y/N wants to find the perfect word/nickname to call her special person. Let your creativity run wild! I leave the rest up to you because I love your writings (obviously). Have fun!

𝐏𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

Lissie note… I am so glad you like my stuff<3 Thank you for this request!!! I’ve never really written anything like it before, but it’s an interesting prompt and I’m willing to give it a try!

Things to note

This is set in the 2020 season

Lewis and reader have been dating for a year and a half before that

Reader is an accountant

Tiffany appreciation

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Tiniest bit of angst. Blink and you might miss it

Word Count: 4.2k+

Playlist recommendations: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @allwaysalleyway

You were walking home from your 9 to 5 job the day you met him. He’d been exploring the city he was to race in that coming weekend. With your face buried in your phone, aggressively replying to unanswered emails— you accidentally sealed your fate with the asphalt, tripping and falling onto the road. Luckily, it wasn’t an active one. He’d seen you scramble to scrape all your things together and rushed over to help you. Never had you seen such generosity from anyone before. You were used to people minding their own business if you fell or if you dropped something.

“You didn’t have to,” you’d said. He had a number of things in his arms that had spilled out of your bag… including feminine products. He hadn’t seemed to care though. He’d happily helped you load your things back to where they’d belonged.

“Of course I did.” You had managed to collect yourself before falling into conversation with him.

“You’re not from here, are you? I know most people in this town…” He was a new face. Not somebody who you’d seen before.

“Guilty as charged. I’m here for work.”

“What do you do?” It was forward and he had been taken aback but ultimately came up with something to string you along to.

“I’m an engineer… of sorts. You?” ‘Engineer’ made sense to you, as his style was very out there and the designer watches were more than your yearly salary.

“I’m just an accountant.” In stark contrast to him, you had on a white blouse and a grayscale checkered pencil skirt. Your ordinary uniform. Freedom was something you had to give up when you came in for work.

“I see… you work near here?” He had just been following you, not really paying any attention to where your feet had been taking you.

“Yeah, I do. About five minutes from here. Is your workplace near here or are you working from your house or hotel?” Your intention hadn’t been to pry, but the genuine curiosity drove you to ask him anyway.

“I guess it’s near? I can’t really say…  if I’m being honest.” That was obviously not the best answer. He had every opportunity to tell you a white lie, but he slipped up somehow. Did it even matter though? He wasn’t going to see you again… was he?

Days turned into weeks. He had given you his number after getting you home safely that day. You hadn’t been in contact with him until he finally sent you a simple text: “Hey, it’s Lewis.” It had sent you spiralling. You hadn’t been sure whether to pursue the connection or let it slip. For better or worse though, you had replied with a short quip. Not intricate enough to suggest something, but not doing a full swing in the other direction either.

It was, however, enough to spark something between the two of you. A blossoming bud that turned into a bountiful garden. That was you and Lewis Hamilton.

1. Trophy wife

The two of you had been dating for a few years. He eventually cracked, and told you about his actual job on the second date. Though his true identity was a Google search away, it came as a shock to you. Never had you ever believed him to be famous. He was so down-to-earth and humble.

Over the course of your years of dating, he had tried to make you quit your job. Mostly because he wanted to support you, but also because he wanted to spend more time with you. Every waking moment he wanted to spend in your presence. You refused and turned down every offer he gave you. Dating a celebrity was already more than enough for you to handle. You wanted normalcy in your life. Even if that came in the shape of hell sent bosses who cared very little about your well-being.

“You know I can cover you. If that won’t sell you, then Roscoe must. You could take care of him whilst I’m gone.” It was another day of his notorious begging for him to take care of you. It was a sweet sentiment, but even living with him was too much.

“I’m already taking care of him. Lewis, you can’t just make me a trophy wife. That’s not who I am. I want to work,” you said begrudgingly and seated yourself by the kitchen island.

“Trophy wife? Please. You will never be some sort of arm candy for me to show off. I love you. I just want you to take a rest, love.” Lewis decided to deploy a deadly weapon. The pet name. If there was one weakness you had— it was whenever he referred to you with a pet name. It made you all weak in the knees and your feet would feel like jelly. Forget about cloud nine, you were swimming in warmth.

“That’s not fair, Lew. You can’t just do that to me.” You scrunched your nose at him and checked your phone for incoming notifications from your workplace text chain. Or so you thought it looked like. In reality, you were hiding your face from him. It was redder than the apple in the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Hmm, you know, I’m not so sure what you mean by that, my love.” Oh, how you wished he would stop. It was hard to resist giving in. Especially when he paired it with such a precious smile. Who’d be able to peel their eyes from that?!

“Look, we aren’t talking about this right now. I’ll be on my way now,” you scoffed and left, leaving your lover with the last laugh. Once again, you let him have his victory.

2. Flatscreen

A few months passed before he tried his luck again. With a new offer. Lewis tried to reason with you, but just like always— you simply would not have it.

“No. Never in a million years,” you snapped and closed the fridge a little too aggressively, remembering to mutter a quiet “sorry”. The Brit even got up early that morning to make you breakfast in bed— just for good measure. If you were in a great mood, surely you’d be more agreeable. Yet… he was utterly wrong. You were headstrong and did not agree one bit.

“You need it, sweets.” Again with the pet names. That was the final nail in the coffin for his begging.

“You can’t just expect me to splurge on a flatscreen simply to watch you race on more pixels! I can watch you perfectly fine on our current TV, thank you very much.” You poured him a glass of orange juice and scooped some protein powder in it as well. He drank it all in one go.

“Splurge? You won’t need to. I’ll buy it for you, okay?” He crossed his arms confidently and made sure to smirk like he always did whenever he tried to prove something.

“Okay? What do you mean ‘okay’?! You will not buy me a brand new flatscreen, Lewis.” Your face was flushed and your frustration was only piling up.

“You can’t tempt me with those things you call me. That won’t work.” Who were you kidding? You lived for his little pet names and those brief moments he’d hold you in his arms while the two of you stared into the early morning view.

“Whatever you say, sugar.” Oh, how you wish you threw the juice in his face instead of offering it to him.

3. Restaurant

You were standing next to Tiffany in the Mercedes garage. Both of you were wearing large headphones whilst watching the screens showing your boyfriends. It was hard not to make noise whenever Lewis overtook someone, but you were just able to contain yourself.

Tiffany was surprisingly calm and collected, but wasn’t afraid to groan and sigh if Valterri slipped up. You weren’t the type to show much of anything unless it regarded Lewis. It was something that you’d grown up with. A habit of sorts.

“How long have you been with Lewis by now?” Tiffany asked with a slight tug of her lip.

“A few years now… I don’t think we’ll ever get tired of each other.” You said that as if he didn’t bug you with his endless blabbering about wanting to spoil you and give you every black card he owned. 

“That is just too sweet! I can only wish that Valterri and I will last as long. I certainly love him.” In a way, you envied her position. She was a professional athlete, much like her partner, whilst you were stuck counting numbers behind a desk all day. She was gorgeous too… it was as if a strike of adoration hit you whenever she passed you in the paddock.

“Yeah… Lewis is something else.” You watched him speed past the camera on the screen. A smile spread across your face, knowing he was doing his best.

Lewis managed to secure a pole position, giving you a kiss as he saw you in the crowd with all of the Mercedes crew. Your heart swelled at the amount of attention he gave you rather than his engineers. Especially knowing he was dead serious about his career and his coworkers.

The podium celebration was magnificent. He sprayed the champagne as if he’d won the lottery. Butterflies formed in your stomach at his pure glee. He was adorable.

There was an after-party, but Lewis had other plans in mind. He wanted to take you out for the night. Even though you didn’t mind partying, there was something in him that held him back from letting you do so. It felt morally wrong of him to drag you along to his work retreats.

“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” Your face was pressed up against the car window. His hand was on your thigh, gently caressing it. You could almost feel yourself dozing off.

“You’ll see when we get there, honey.” That one was fairly new. It felt more domestic too. That was probably why your cheeks were hotter than an iron.

“You’re crazy,” you said with a chuckle.

“Crazy about you.”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that was pretty lame.”

“Yeah, it was.” The two of you had a small laugh about it before turning some music on. The two of you had made a shared playlist. One that consisted mainly of your favourites. Since you had far too many, they outnumbered your boyfriend’s.

The ride was long, but the destination made it worth it. He’d driven you to a cliffside restaurant. It was quaint and cosy and had balcony seats. You could see the ocean and its waves cascading onto each other in a synchronized manner. It was beautiful. Lewis was a romantic. Not exactly what someone would expect at first glance, but he truly cared deeply for you and your needs. It was almost impossible to say no to him.

“Lewis… Thank you for this.”

“No, honey, thank you. I won today because you were here with me. It’s the first race you’ve come to in a while now.” The man was perfect.

“Yeah, and I’m sorry I haven’t been able to attend that many. My job won’t allow me and—”

“Hey- no- none of that. Stop making yourself the guilty party here. You’re doing what you love and you should not be worrying about me. I see you whenever I’m home and that’s enough for me.” Your fingers interlocked with his as he leaned in to peck your lips. The support he gave you couldn’t amount to anything you’d ever received from anyone. Even your own family.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

4. Bath

You were dead. Completely drained from your job. It felt like your body was that of a gigantic slug. You couldn’t move a single limb. Your brain had already checked out, so you were pretty much stuck. Being too tired to move, you decided to take a rest on the couch that you’d collapsed onto upon entering your shared home.

Your boss was a nightmare. He overworked everyone to the bone, and if you happened to pass into overtime, he refused to pay you for your extra hours. Was it fair? No. Was there anything you could do about it? Also no. You had to endure him for as long as possible. At least until you could find yourself a different company to work at. Quitting had been on your mind for some time, but with Lewis travelling all the time— you felt that you couldn’t just stay home all day. You still wanted to occupy yourself with a job.

The faint sound of Roscoe’s pattering paws could be heard inching closer. You didn’t mind looking after him. He was the sweetest and didn’t require much of you.

“I’ll take you out in 5,” you mumbled somewhat incoherently to the dog. He had politely plopped himself in front of the couch, staring at you with those adorable eyes. Your hand reached out to scratch him, as it would give you more time to stall and relax.

The more you contemplated whether or not to quit, the more you started leaning towards a self-destructive mindset. You wanted to work. You had to. It didn’t feel right for you to leech off of your boyfriend. That was simply not an option for you.

“I’m home!” You heard a strong voice boom throughout the house. It was Lewis, who had been out for most of the day. He was usually stuck in a billion meetings and was often hard to reach. You didn’t care about that though. You were just proud of him for working so hard. It made you feel guilty for not working nearly as hard as him.

“Hey, there you are. You don’t look well, are you ill?” He crouched down next to Roscoe to meet your face. Your eyes were closed due to the weight of your eyelids, but you lightly shook your head.

“I’m just really tired. Sorry, I didn’t take Roscoe out for his evening walk… I’m a bad dog mum.” Lewis chuckled lightly at the term you used to describe yourself. ‘Dog mum’.

“No need to worry about that. Your well-being comes first. How about I draw you a bath? I’ll take Roscoe out whilst you soak up some relaxing aromas.” If there was a ‘Boyfriend of the Year’ award, surely Lewis would win. He cared about the little things. The things you hadn’t even thought about.

“Thanks, Lew… you’re too good to me.”

“Nonsense. You deserve to be treated like royalty.” He stroked your cheek, causing your lips to tug upwards.

“I’ve been thinking about quitting.” You announced it out of the blue, but Lewis seemed unphased. Your eyes finally had some strength to stay open, so you looked straight into his. A mix of elation and calmness. That was your Lewis.

“That’s great. You shouldn’t work with a boss who doesn’t appreciate your efforts. Trust me, I would know. I’m lucky to have Toto, but I can’t even imagine working with some of the other team principals.” You knew about Williams’ fall from grace after the daughter of the former team principal stepped in.

“I don’t know though… I don’t want to stay home all day long and do nothing. I have to work, you know?” You had to face the music. There was no way you could quit and still be able to work. Accounting wasn’t special in Monaco. You were likely not someone a lot of companies were looking for.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I can take care of you, angel.”He really deployed your kryptonite. The name made your heart flutter as if the two of you were back in your honeymoon phase. It wasn’t fair.

“That’s a dirty trick, Lew. I’m not going to quit until I find a job I can replace my current one with. I’m sorry. It may not matter to you, but it matters to me.” Lewis got up and stretched before walking towards one of the many bathrooms,

“I’ll prepare a bath for you.”

5. New job

It had been a few months since you last brought up your work situation to Lewis. You had decided to continue until you’d eventually short-circuit. All that mattered was that you were a working girlfriend instead of a stay-at-home one. You didn’t have anything against that lifestyle in particular. It just wasn’t for you.

This day was special. You were cooking a vegan curry when Lewis came out of the shower to help you chop vegetables. It was a celebratory dish, as you had just been fired. Apparently, you had been doing ‘the bare minimum’ and that simply wasn’t good enough. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been devastating to be fired, but you were elated. It sure as hell was better than quitting.

“What’s got you in such a giddy mood?” Lewis came up behind you and hugged your waist. Your body leaned into his and it was as if you were floating on clouds. Fluffy clouds of love.

“I was fired.” He pulled away from you and got the cutting board out.

“This is great news! We should eat out tomorrow to celebrate.” He started chopping up some potatoes to dump in the pot.

“I was thinking this could be a celebration. Just you, me, and Roscoe. We could throw on a good movie and all.” Lewis didn’t oppose that idea. He smiled and nodded, continuing his feat with the veggies.

Then it hit you. You’d be jobless. You hadn’t found a job to replace the old one with. A pang of guilt hit you like a freight train. You somehow managed to overlook the fact all day. Your breathing became hard and heavy. You had to take a break.

“Woah woah woah, what’s wrong?” You saw Lewis with the kitchen knife and apron. His image was getting blurry from tears you simply couldn’t hold back.

“I thought we were celebrating? What’s going on? Are you okay?” He put down the knife, undid his apron, and pulled you out of the kitchen. Luckily nothing was boiling. 

“I just… I’m jobless,” you sniffled through your tears. The salty liquid coated your lips, and you could taste the despair. You slowly sank down onto the floor with him following suit.

“Well, that was the point,” said Lewis. You found it oddly comforting, but guilt still clung to every part of you. Like poison, you didn’t have the antidote for.

“I don’t want to burden you like that.” You were able to speak clearer after Lewis rubbed your back for support.

“You could never be a burden to me, okay? You are the reason I’m still standing here today with win after win. You motivate me to keep being strong and keep aiming for higher heights. How could you ever be a burden to me?” His words were like a warm hug. Your tensed muscles relaxed a little bit.

“I don’t know… I’ve never not worked before. I don’t exactly come from wealth,” you sighed. As much as it was about burdening your boyfriend— it was about your own values. Coming from what most would consider ‘middle class’, you always had to work harder than your peers. Monaco didn’t have time to wait around for you, so you always tried so desperately to catch up. It felt embarrassing. Your home country was just as forward and busy. There was never time for you. Working hard was a lifestyle that you had to pull off.

“Do you think I came from wealth? I didn’t. I worked my ass off to get here, and now that I have the means to spoil you. I want you to feel that you can take a rest, okay?” His reasoning was flawed to you. There was something about it that just couldn’t sway you.

“Lewis, I can’t be your trophy wife. I can’t.” You shook your head and swallowed hard.

“You won’t be. Think of this as your new job. You’ll have the responsibility to take care of Roscoe and keep the house clean and habitable. Is that not considered work?” There was no other offer on the table and there was no other option. The only way for you was that.

“Basically a housewife.”

“Darling, please.” Your stomach did cartwheels and the butterflies tumbled around in there.

“It’s okay. I’ll just have to make do,” you sighed and rested your face in your hands.

“Hey, at least you’ll be able to come to more of my races— if not all.” Wow, what a consolation… but he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“You know what? I have to make a call. I’ll be right back.” Lewis got up and made his way to the guest room for privacy. Meanwhile, you stared into the white ceiling. You felt so tiny. As if you were just a small speck of dust. An inconvenience. Muffled sounds were coming from the room Lewis had gone into. You could tell that it was about his job. Something that you already missed. Your boss was terrible, but at least you had something to do every day. At least he let you have 10-minute lunch breaks. Which, in retrospect, was far from enough time.

It took a while, but Lewis finally came back. His face looked as if he couldn’t contain himself. He seemed excited?

“Guess what.” He crouched down to meet your eyes.

“What?”

“You have a job.” He smiled and reached for your hand, helping you stand by supporting your waist.

“No need to rub in my new position as a housewife. I get it, Lew.”

“No. I pulled a few strings, and you’re going to be in the accounting department on my team.” Your eyes flew open in shock.

“What? Wait what?!”

“You get to work from home too, so it’s sort of like a compromise. You’ll be able to come to my races and you’ll be working like any other person. Your pay is higher than your last job too.” It was all too much, but you couldn’t turn it down after he’d just done something so grand for you. It’d be rude.

“Lewis, I genuinely don’t even know what to say. I mean, this is just amazing.” Your tears were all dried up on your face, and your eyes were gorgeous from them.

“You didn’t have to do this for me, you know?”

“I’ve told you so many times now; that I would do anything for you, darling.” Lewis was truly out of this world. His generosity and humbleness were his character. That was him. That was all yours.

+1. Handsome

The time had come for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix to commence. Lewis was in the running position to bring home yet another championship. He had been dominating all season, so there wasn’t really a question of whether or not he’d win. That fate was sealed. It was just a matter of if he could snatch the last win of the season. You certainly didn’t doubt his skills paired with his car. He was basically unstoppable.

“You did great in the qualifying sessions, I’m sure you’ll do great now. You’re starting from pole position. You’ve got this in the bag, I’d say so.” You smiled as he got into his race suit.

“I have no doubts. I’ve got my lucky charm with me.” He looked at you with a silly smile plastered onto his face. Cute.

“I believe in you, handsome,” you cooed and winked at him before walking away, leaving him with the effects of having been called a pet name, when he’s usually the one to get the fun out of you. He felt his chest tighten and tingle. Perhaps the race would be in his favour after that one.

You were seated next to Tiffany again. The two of you were too focused on the race to have an actual conversation. You were completely immersed in your boyfriend, hoping that he’d not only win but also stay safe. You were convinced he wouldn’t do anything reckless though. That wasn’t like him.

He didn’t win, but at the very least he scored a podium finish. You were still proud of him. He was the 2020 world champion.

The crowd surge towards the podium stand nearly crushed you several times, but you were able to get in front of everyone else to receive a heartwarming kiss from your lover.

“You did so well out there, baby, I’m so proud!” His heart nearly stopped when you called him that. You pulled him in for a hug, before letting the engineers embrace him. The smile on his face was immaculate, and you couldn’t wait for the ceremony where he’d rightfully receive his trophy. You had been to the same ceremony a year prior, but something felt much more special about this year. Both you and Lewis had grown so much over the span of it, it didn’t feel real, but at the same time— you couldn’t remember how it felt before.

Safe to say, you were definitely going to stick around for a long time. Losing his lucky charm would be detrimental after all.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)