#this had to be a part 2 for the previous ask. bcs it was too many images that are very big and long

[cubbihue]

How did Cosmo and Wanda catch Timmy when he was too fast?

They didn't! Jorgen did.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[kisses4reid]

convenient | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - studying while working at a convenience store is easier that thought when a regular happens to be a genius.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

warnings - school work, that always scares me. they’re the same age!!! early 20s. mention of condoms.

edit - bc this is getting so much love, i’m opening a taglist for part 2!!! just comment or put in a req to join the ‘convenient’ taglist 🫶

the chime of the door didn’t phase you, the creaks and squeaks of the store slowly becoming one with you. flipping onto the next page of your biology textbook, something that was unnecessarily expensive, you shake your hand to get rid of the cramp you slowly became aware of.

it was only when a wave of man’s cologne and a plastic bag stood in front of you that you ripped your eyes off of your books.

he was tall, skinny, had long(ish) hair and looked amazing. there wasn’t really anything else to say, other than that the thin smile he displayed toward you made you smile back.

“just these for today?” you ask, fixing your posture and pushing some loose strands back to their place behind your ears.

“yes, thank you.” he says, voice as timid as his appearance. it was a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him as his long fingers slip through his wallet to find a debit card. “have a good night.”

your eyes return to your textbook as you go to erase an answer you had previous written, obviously wrong.

“the heads of the phospholipid bilayer are hydrophilic, not phobic.” he says. it surprised you, making you return to his gaze slowly before realising you should probably reply instead of staring at the man.

“oh- yeah, thanks. i caught that it’s just, i guess i’ve been staring at the same words for so long i can’t differentiate them.” you give a small fake laugh as he nods, giving you a long look before coughing and leaving promptly. he leaves with his bag, and his hands fiddling with each other.

you can barely focus after that. customers come and go, and although you’ve only been doing the late shift for a week, this encounter with the unknown man couldn’t leave your mind. the way he dressed, his smell, his voice and how he corrected you (which would totally annoy you usually). you hoped he would return.

and he did. three days later, this time even later than the last.

you were stuck in a dark purple sweater, the aircon in the store blasting cold air that you were too lazy to fix. and although the air flipped pages of notes and questions, you were still stuck in a trance.

the blasting aircon blew a wind of mens cologne this time, it smelt like wood. your eyes glanced up from your books and trailed the familiar man, noticing how he was reusing the plastic bag from days before.

he returned to the checkout with apples, a 3 minute cannelloni, and a bag of coffee. he was now the one trailing you, “where did Latrice go?” you look up, chuckling a bit,

“Latrice is getting paid by her daughter-in-law to babysit the twins,” you reply, surprised you were willing to tell him so much information. he could be a stalker for all you know. or just a regular, obviously that’s way more likely. “trust me, i miss her as much as you do. $14.98.”

he nodded with a small smile and sliced his card down the side of the card reader.

you searched for him now, only after two encounters you were already craving some sort of human interaction at work. usually you avoided it since the only other ‘regulars’ were old men and mean teenagers. you had switched to writing a biology report on your computer, the sound of the keyboard almost covering the sound of the door bell.

a bag of apples, a 2 minute lasagne, a bag of coffee, and a banana muffin.

“big night?”

“uh- what?”

“you got a banana muffin. i thought you were starting to become predictable.” you bagged his things as he chuckled, looking over you and your laptop. you noticed only because you were also looking at him, “biology report. wanna read it?” you joked, but he didn’t catch that part.

now he was behind the register, sat on your wheelie stool reading and editing your report while walking you through everything he was changing. you didn’t understand most, but you were just happy to stay around him. you weren’t even scared of Old Alan, the guy who only buys cucumbers and condoms. nobodies ever asked him, don’t think anyone wants to know.

“what’s your word limit?”

“3500.”

“only 3500?” he gave you a raised eyebrow, voice getting slightly higher. he coughed, “sorry, that’s nearly impossible.”

you sigh, “i know… i’m y/n by the way. thought you should know who your helping cheat.”

“i’m not helping you cheat, i’m just… editing,” he hit backspace a few times with a lowered bottom lip, “my names spencer.”

you smiled and crossed your arms as you leaned against the counter. spencer. yeah, that sounded nerdy enough.

pt. 2

[ddiidi]

bf!Bangchan x gn!reader (ot8 mentioned)

Masterlist

When he calls you clingy, so you distance yourself

Previous Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Next Pt. 3

!Warnings: angst, swearing, fun at the end bc reader needs fun in life (lmk if i missed anything)

Important!Side-Note!: Should I do a happy ending for them?

It has been 3 days since that incident. 3 days and still not a single message from Chan, not even an apology for yelling at you, nothing. You've been texting him every now and then, to ask if he's okay, eats and sleeps. He never replied to any of them, nor has he seen them, so you spend most of the time packing your stuff and working from home. You were glad you had a job you also could work from home for. Every now and then, you went over to the building, to check a few things, walking extra detours, to make sure, you won't bump into Chan.

A few of the other members texted you the past days, asking if everything is okay and why the haven't seen you around for a while, to which you just replied with "Busy with work and private stuff, dww:)". It made you happy they actually care that much about you, just because they haven't seen you in a few days, but also anxious and sad, since they care, but chan hasn't even shown any intress in you the past days. You weren't even able to tell him that you're moving.

More days pass, and a few days, turn into a week of no textes from Chan. At this point, you wondered if he even knew that you still exist.

So here you were, in your old apartment, stuffed with boxes, not being able to get your mind off chan and his well-being, even though, you're still deeply hurt from what he said, you couldn't just not not care about him....He pointed out two of your insecurities, just like that as if it was nothing and he doesn't even care...not about you not your feelings.

You let out a deep sigh. You should be getting ready for a day with your friends. Not think about some man, who happened to be the love of your life, who calls you his partner, but doesn't even know how to cherish you.

You let out another, heavy, sigh as you drop to the floor to put on your shoes, Let's just focus on having a great time today, you thought to yourself and left the apartment.

Well, maybe it was not the best decision to go out today...

Chan for his part, had to listen to a lectur from Felix, after you ran out, crying. "Chris..you really shouldn't have said all that to her. I understand that you were annoyed or whatever, but that was no reason to yell at her" "Really now? They were just being a fucking, clingy and annoying crybaby that couldn't take no for an answer, for whatever reason." chan sighed out, at the younger member. "That crybaby...was really uncalled for chris. They're your partner, not some random person on the street you can yell at. I wouldn't wonder if they took that "Leave me alone" to heart and actually leave you after that action." "But I-" chan starts, "I'm just saying chris. You better fix this before it's too late. After what you pulled, partners are faster gone than you could blink" with that, Felix leaves the room, leaving Chan alone, again.

Since that talk, Chan locked himself in his studio, thinking about the best way to apologize for what he said. But he couldn't find one. No matter how long he thought, days, a whole week, there was nothing but regret. He just had to apologize in person and beg for forgivness, hoping that you'd actually forgive him.

So there he was, with a giant bouquet of flowers, fresh clothes and hope.

He had the code to your apartment, so he opened the door, ready to be greeted by the warm, wide open hallway, but was greeted with the cold gray of bunch of boxes instead and the first thing he felt, was panic."Y/n? Y/n are you there?" he yelled, as he ran through your whole apartment, but as he saw that even all your date polaroid pictures where gone, he couldn't help but panic even more.

He let's the flowers fall on the floor, running to your room and nearly collapsed when he found..nothing. Where were you? Did you actually go? Did you actually leave him? All these questions consumed his head and that's when he broke, crying to the point he couldn't breath. He took out his phone and called the first number he saw in his recent calls. It peeped a few times, before someone took the call.

"Hey Chris everything alr-" "They're gone! Felix they're gone, they're not here i don't know what to do! I've never meant it I was just-" chan cried and gasped out at felix on the other line. "Woah there calm down, try to breath I don't understand a word. Relax, I'll be there okay? You know there is an explination for everything, that's what you always say, so try to relax it's okay" Felix tried to soothen the older man, while grabbing his keys and running out to his car. Chan didn't reply anything to that and continued soobing.

I have your location, I'll be there in 5." that's the last thing chan heared from felix, before he collapsed on the floor in your apartment.

And you? You were drinking coffee with your friends, while your bestie told you guys a story how she saw a horse that nearly drowned.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

@finnbbl @wolfs-howling

[reidmania]

IN BETWEEN | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist

part one, part two, part three

summary; after meeting in person for the first time, you and spencer only fall deeper when you visit him.

warnings; pure fluff again, they’re love sick fools ur honour. fem reader, briefly mentions of anxiety and overthinking, they make each other flustered and nervous.

an; there could most definitely be a part three if u guys want one bc theres still the bridge of the song?? this fic literally sent me to the grave never again am i writing this much in one sitting i might lose all my sanity.

tags: @reidmarieprentiss @spencerreidsreads

‘he laughs at her eyes, at her smile, at the glasses on her face, he loves how he talks late at night, when there's no one else to say, how she's beautiful and funny and smart like nothin' he's ever seen, he's good to her and she wants it more than everything in between’

<>

You didn’t think your hands had ever pulled your phone from your pocket quicker than the minute it started ringing, excitement and something more lingering in your mind when Spencer’s name lit up on your screen. A smile found place on your face as you leant against the shopping cart you had been pushing around.

The minute you answered you heard him breathe out a sigh of relief, “I am so glad you answered” Was the first thing he said, it made your smile widen as you held the phone to your ear, your other hand pushing the cart forward.

“When have I not answered- I always answer” You mutter out. It was true, not so much because you were always on your phone but because Spencer had your schedule memorised. He knew exactly when you would be free and when you wouldn’t, unless something came up but you always made sure to let him know before hand. After finding out how much he panicked when you internet went out and you didn’t email him for three days, you didn’t want him to have to worry like that again.

You heard a warm chuckle through the phone, it sent the warmth straight to your chest. “The 5th, I called you at 2:43 and you didn’t answer” He memorised. It made your heart fill with fondness and butterflies alight your stomach. Despite the roll of your eyes as you thought back to the date.

“I was at work! I called you back literally two seconds later, that doesn’t count” You mumbled out as your free hand reached for the shelves, placing the products in your cart gently before moving on.

You could picture his grin, on the other side of the phone. You knew he was at work, like he was more often than not. It didn’t stop him from going out of his way to check in on you throughout the day, and deep down you knew how important it was to him that he did so.

“I miss you” He said quietly, not bothering to add anything to the previous topic. His words made you grin as your lip became tucked under your teeth. You were sure to anyone else around you, you looked like a lovesick teenager. You felt like one too.

It had been two weeks since you saw Spencer for the first time, the kiss played repeatedly in your head as if your brain was rewinding a clip a million times, it made your cheeks burn all the same every time. You two hadn’t necessarily talked about it, but it wasn’t like either of you were avidly avoiding it.

It was enough to ensure Spencer felt some way about you, some way more than friends or internet buddies. The two of you saw each other again the next day, where you went to the a bookstore and a little cafe. He remembered you rambling in an email about the small bookstore you adored on the corner of the street near your work and then when you nervously muttered about it over the phone in the morning, he asked you to show him it.

“I know, I miss you too.” You said softly as you decided you had enough of grocery shopping, you had gotten most of the things you needed and everything else you could live without. You pushed your cart towards the checkout line.

He smiled, you couldn’t see it but it was clear enough in his voice to make your heart swell at the image in your head. “Do you have any time off work?” He asked, almost nervously.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tucked the phone into your shoulder, holding it in place with your head by your ear while you scanned your items at the self checkout. “Um, not anytime soon but I have accumulated enough sick days if necessary. Is everything okay?” You asked, slightly concerned at his sudden inquiry about your days off.

He hummed through the phone before you heard some shuffling, voices in the background but nothing clear enough that you could pick up on. “Everything is fine but, I miss you” He repeated, as his explanation for his previous question.

You didn’t know if there were any words that could explain the feeling that bubbled in your stomach. The butterflies that seemed to live there now taking over your ribcage.

You paid for your groceries before taking the bags in your hand and returning the cart, hard to do with the phone pressed tightly between your ear and shoulder, but you managed, carrying the bags in one hand towards your car as you took the phone back in your hand.

“Is this you asking me to come see you?”

It came out more teasing than you intended originally, but the soft laugh and idea of his cheeks slightly tinted was enough for you to mean it all the same. There was a moment of silence before he sighed.

“Yes.” He said, before he turned into a rambling mess trying to over justify what didn’t need any justification.

“I can pay for your flight - and If you’re worried about work I’ll pay you your rate. I’ll take time off work as well. You can stay at mine- If you want to of course, you don’t have to. Theres some good hotels close by as well.. not the one i was telling you about the other day, the crime rates there are substantially higher than any others. I think we have had six different cases there alone, Its honestly shocking it hasn’t been shut down yet. Between the crime rates and the horrible reviews I don’t truely understand how they still get business, two people every week thats not a lot of money so they must be getting it else where, especially because there prices are so low, maybe thats why people still go there, ignore the bad reviews and go anyways”

You smiled fondly, letting the boy ramble as you got into your car after placing the groceries in the back seat. You connected your phone to the blue tooth of your car, his ramble ringing out through the radio.

“What reviews does your place have?” You cut him off, a hint of teasing in your voice. His rambling stopped and he went silent for a minute, making your smile only widen when you realised you had flustered the man.

He almost squeaked when he talked, “None so far.. I can give you one though.” He muttered out trying to play along. Spencer got a lot less flustered now than he would’ve a few years ago, you knew that because he told you how much of a nervous awkward mess he was then. You found it cute.

Still, you had a way of bringing that back out of him.

“Go on” You encouraged softly, playfulness lacing your tone.

“Well it’s extraordinarily clean.. Warm too, but not too warm to the point it’s.. too warm.” He cleared his throat awkwardly when realising he had repeated himself. “It’s adjustable— The temperature, if it’s too warm or not warm enough it can be um- adjusted. This is more difficult than I thought”

You bite your lip, shaking your head, deciding to put the boy out of his misery. “And you call me a nervous rambler. Of course I’ll come see you, and stay with you.. If you want that. You’re also not going to pay for my flight, spence. You don’t need to pay me to hang out with you” You breathed out.

“I don’t want to make you pay for a plane ticket when I’m the one asking you to come see me.” He said, his voice quiet and sincere. You knew he meant every word and it made your smile dampen slightly.

You sighed, “Don’t act like I don’t want to see you just as much.” You said as you turned your keys in the ignition of your car, looking behind you for a moment as you reversed out of the parking space.

“Are you driving?” He asked.

You nodded, a common occurrence of you forgetting he was unable to see you. Sometimes you forgot he wasn’t right there. “Uh- Yeah I’m leaving the store. You’re connected to my bluetooth. Im being safe” You said, reassuring him of your safety before he even had the chance to ask.

You wondered if his worry for your safety would decreased if you lived closer to him. If he was able to see you and talk to you more. You weren’t sure what specifically spiked his worry but his constant need to know you were okay, it made your chest tighten in the grip of warm hands.

After muttering a quiet, “okay, good” He jumped back to the previous topic before he heard the beeping of you reversing. “I want you to stay here as long as you’re comfortable with it.” He said.

“Of course I am. When do you want me to come? Theres nothing important going on at the office — Like always. so I can basically come whenever..”

Spencer breathed out a laugh before he was called back to the conference room. You heard Hotch’s voice which you had gotten more familiar with the more you talked to Spencer. “I have to go, I’ll talk to Hotch tonight and find out when its best for me to have off and I’ll call you tonight okay?”

You agree and bid your goodbye, theres a moment of comfortable silence mixed with longing before he mutters a similar sort of reply mixed with an apology for having to go, before the call ended.

A week later, the sound of chaos filled your ears the minute you got off the plane while waiting for your bag, young kids running around trying to catch one another, a man missing his flight, families reuniting. The chaos was a bittersweet feeling that provided a weird calming sensation to your nerves.

You knew the minute you saw Spencer everything would be fine, but it didn’t stop the anxiety that dwindled, with the thoughts of every possible wrong outcome that may occur. It was thoughts you tried to ignore, and avoid but sometimes they made their way and consumed all your thoughts.

Once getting your bag you were able to wander towards the airport entrance way where Spencer had told you he would be. Your eyes searched the other people waiting for their own people, along with other biding goodbye.

When your eyes landed on his own you were pretty sure you could feel your heart bruising your ribcage. You wondered if you looked silly standing there looking around but those thoughts were quickly forgotten when he started walking towards you, meeting you half way as you too walked towards him.

The minute you were in reach his arms were around your waist, your body pulled flush against his. A smile filled the space on your face as your arms reached to wrap around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to better reach before he was lifting you off the ground.

A laugh left your lips before you could stop it, it was only for a moment before he was placing you back on the ground, burying his head in between your neck and shoulder as if it belonged there. The scent of his cologne mixed with his body wash took over your senses, consuming your mind.

“Hi” You whispered as you pulled back to look at his face, you felt your face flush slightly as his eyes lowered over your face, a goofy sort of smile on his face, his own cheeks flushed.

“Hi.” He whispered back.

You weren’t sure what to say but it didn’t matter, he was already taking your hand and leading you to his car, asking about your flight until you were pulling your seatbelt on, his gaze was focused on you completely, his body turned in the drivers seat to look at you.

“I came straight from work, I was worried traffic would be horrible and I wouldn’t get here in time.” He said softly as his hand brushed up to curl in on your jaw.

You leant into his touch, “I could’ve waited.” You said, the warmth of his hand sending your skin into a frenzy.

He tilted his head to the side to mirror how you leant into his touch, a wonky smile as he squinted his eye slightly. “I didn’t want you to have to wait.” He said, his voice did that thing you had grown all too familiar with, where it went slightly higher in sincerity.

You smiled, “Well you made it, is there some scientific facts behind that.” You asked, looking up at him with slight soft eyes. You knew Spencer would take any opportunity possible to ramble about statistics and scientific things you didn’t quite understand a lot of the time, you’d listen and love it regardless.

He paused slightly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Uh- Im sure there is.. I- Um.” You mirrored his expression, eyebrows furrowed slightly at his words.

“Sorry- I- I can’t think straight. You look so pretty” His words went straight to your chest and you could’ve swore you would’ve married him on the spot, you knew deep down that was dramatic when all he did was compliment you, but it was more than that. It was the way he said it with such honesty, so gently. The way he was looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

You felt the need to change the topic. Your face slightly pulled away from his hands as you replaced them with your own hands, trying to cool the burning of your cheeks at his words. He smiled and started the car.

You let your hands cool your cheeks. “Was work okay?” You mumbled out as you turned your head back to face him, you admired the way his jawline looked and the way his hands looked holding the steering wheel, which did not help your face cool down. Your hands pulled away from your face, to rest together gently in your lap.

He looked away from the road for a moment to glance at you. His own expression slightly flustered making your heart skip a beat before his eyes returned to the road.

“No- Well yeah- It was fine. Boring, nothing real interesting just paperwork all day.. I was just, hanging out for it to be over so I could see you. How was the flight?” He asked through a breathy chuckle, his eyes glancing back towards yours for a second, noticing the way your fingers fidgeted with themselves.

He decided to leave out how all day Derek had teased him about you, saying anything he could to make Spencer’s cheeks heat. He didn’t mention the way when Emily asked why he was so moody all day he went on nearly an hour long ramble about how he just wanted the day to be over because you would be there, and then went into detail about how he had cleaned his house, bleaching it entirely just so there was absolutely no chance of any germs you couldn’t contract.

“I was stressing, honestly. The airport was so busy when I got there— Like there was a million people, I’m not even kidding. I’ve never been so.. overwhelmed by people and normally I don’t mind but there was a lot of people Spence. Oh and then the man tried to tell me my flight was wrong, and I wanted to cry — like break down into tears in the middle of the airport, then he got his boss and everything was fine, he just read the ticket wrong. I also fell asleep and woke up to the kid next to me asking if id play uno with him — So I did of course”

The simple answer turned into one of your nervous blabbering sentiments he had come to adore. His hand reached over from the steering wheel while the other remained on it, it hovered slightly over yours for a second. Your breath hitched slightly cutting off your ramble, you swore at this rate you would be dead from your heart rate being too high before you even got the chance to see Spencer’s house.

When his hand peeled yours away from your lap to interlace your fingers with his your head turned towards his, a soft smile on your face as your eyes met his for a moment when he stopped at a redlight.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, as if he was nervous you might push him away. Your hand softened in his gentle grasp, squeezing his hand gently you smiled and nodded.

“This is perfect” You breathed out.

"I don't have a guest room- I should've mentioned that" Spencer said, he was leaning against the back of the couch watching you as you stood in front of his book shelf, eyes scanning over the large amount of books, your mind dancing with the memory of when he had emailed you telling you he needed one, because his books were just in piles across his living room.

You smiled fondly at the memory before you turned your head to look over your shoulder at him, eyebrows pinched together. You weren't sure what to say, was he telling you that you'd be sharing a room with him? was he saying you'd be sleeping on the sofa? was he kicking you out and telling you to find a hotel?

You pursed your lips slightly, "Right.." You hummed as you turned your body to face him. You weren't sure what you were expecting honestly, sure you spent the last week leading up to this wondering but it never went much further until you got distraction making up different scenarios and interactions in your head that you'd fall asleep thinking about.

Spencer looked awkward for the briefest moment, before he let out a breathy laugh. "You um- We can- You can sleep in my room" He said, he spoke like the words were trying to be held back in his throat. It made you smile.

"And then where will you sleep?" You asked, raising your eyebrow curiously at him.

His eyebrows dipped, "Well- In my room as well- if you are comfortable with that, or I could sleep on the sofa." He said, the crimson heat making its way over his cheeks. You couldn't help the way your smile widened.

Your head tilted, "You know, I think that would be okay." You said, your smile almost giddy as you walked towards him. He let out a heavy exhale he didn't know he was holding it at your words as the smile made its way to his face -- looking the same sort of giddy.

"Yeah you think so?" He asked, the teasing tone as if he wasn't the one flustered and nervous almost seconds ago. You nodded your head in agreement as you moved to stand in front of him. A odd overwhelming need to be closer, one you couldn't explain.

He didn't seem to mind, nor did he question it as his hands hesitantly moved to wrap around your waist. You only smiled as you found your place against his chest, letting out a gentle breath as his scent overwhelmed your senses.

There was something so comforting about his scent, there was a fresh hint from his aftershave and then something that resembled the smell of old paperbacks and espresso, it was so delicate while being intoxicating all at once. There was something familiar about it even though it wasn't a combination you had ever smelt before meeting Spencer in person.

Yet it was the sort of scent the resembled a warm hug on a cold evening at sunset, or the warmth of a smile from an old lady in a cafe on an early sunday morning.

"When did you get a book shelf?" You asked, your voice slighly muffled by the cotton of his sweater, he hadn't told you about getting it. He hummed softly and you felt the vibrations from his chest against your ear.

"Yesterday, figured you deserved better than a house full of books all over the floor." He said, his voice was quiet and just loud enough for you to hear slightly raspy as his hand gently pressed against your back, brushing over the fabric of your own sweater.

You felt your heartbeat genuinely stutter at his words, the way his voice sounded. You were standing in his arms with not a clue in the world of what any of this meant between you, but you knew you didn't want it to end, not now, not ever.

"I wouldn't of minded" You said in the same quiet tone, as if there were other people around that the two of you were trying to hide your conversation from. There wasn't, it was just the two of you yet the conversation felt intimate and sweet and it ingraved its place in your memory.

His head shifting slightly from where it rested ontop of yours. You could've swore you felt his lips brush against the top of your head, you wondered if you imagined it, made it up in your head.

"I know" He whispered softly.

The rest of the evening consisted of you and Spencer attempting to make nacho's (which was more of you making them and him leaning against the counter staring at you), making him watch the notebook after finding out he had never seen it and then regretting it when you both spent the next thirty minutes bawling like babies into each others arms.

You also spent a while trying to convince him to let you paint his nails, before giving up. He probably would've gave in if you persisted for more than two minutes before getting distracted.

Now, you had just walked out of the bathroom after changing into your pyjamas while Spencer was already sitting against the headboard, a book perched up in his hands. You stood silently watching in awe as he went through 4 pages in the time it would've take you to read one, also part focused on his hands and the way they wrapped held the book

He looked up from the book noticing you standing there, your eyes lifted to meet his. He offered you a soft smile and sat up a bit more, shuffling a bit more to the side to allow you extra room on the bed. You realised that you were still standing which made the back of your neck heat in embarrasment.

You walked over to the bed, his eyes followed you as you moved, you sat down next to him as if it was normal, like muscle memory even though you had never done it before, the idea of everything feeling so unrulely natual with Spencer made your mind a mess as you wondered what is what about him that made everything seem so.. Safe.

"Is this okay?" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of his voice, your eyes met his as you nodded briefly before your eyes moved back to the book in his hands, you shuffled slightly closer to him without thinking, but he had no complaints when one of his hands left the book to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

Goosebums followed where his arm laid, "Can you read aloud as fast as you can read in your head?" You asked, almost absent mindedly as you thought about what it would be like to read 20,000 words aloud in a minute, you knew his brain could process that much information but that was just because he was brilliant -- He didn't need to explain the facts to you about it, you had already decided, it was just because he was brilliant.

He laughed softly, "No, your brain can work a lot faster than your mouth can" He said softly as his finger tips brushed over your arm, a smile on his face as he looked down at you, his eyes as warm as his hand felt against your skin.

"Okay good" You mumbled out, you looked back at him for a moment feeling slightly nervous under his gaze, "What are you reading?" You asked as you shifted slightly to see the title of the book, he helped by flipping the book to its side, his fingers in between the pages to keep his place.

You 'oohed' softly, making a soft chuckle leave his lips as you leant back against his arm. He kept his eyes on you, a fond smile filling the space of his cheeks. "Its about the pyscology of love" He muttered softly, eyes trailing over your face.

You wondered if he could feel your heart beat increase in your back as it pressed against his arm. You didn't mean to pay it any thought, but the way his voice got quieter and his eyes were looking into yours. You couldn't help it.

"Read it to me?" You asked, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip nervously. You weren't sure if you would understand it completely but you didn't really mind, more focused on just listening to Spencer read.

His eyes widened slightly as if he wasn't expecting it. There was something in his eyes, and emotion you couldn't quite place. "Y-yeah, Yeah, Of course" He fumbled over his words

You pulled your eyes away from his to shuffle down more to have your head resting against his chest, his arm followed your body still wrapping around you tightly. There was a moment of silence before you heard him clear his throat and began reading the words on the page, his voice sweet and gentle with every word.

You didn't mean to, really but within minutes your breathing had slowed and your muscles relaxed in his touch as you fell asleep. He didn't have to look at you to know that, he could tell by the soft breaths that left your lips as his words paused for a moment, before he leant down to brush his lips against the top of your head gently.

He continued reading aloud despite you already being asleep, his voice was quieter and softer, but he continued just in case you woke up.

"Should I be concerned about your sugar intake?" You asked, a warm smile on your face as you watched the man pour his tenth sugar into his large coffee, after the two of you made the decision to go for a walk around. You had borrowed one of his scarfs that was wrapped gently around your neck over the knitted sweater you were wearing. Your hands were intertwined for the most part until now, when he was tearing open sugar packets.

He grinned as he added one more before stiring the otherwise plain black coffee with the wooden stick, disposing of it then placing the lid back on his cup. "They never add enough sugar, I hate it how people at have to add their own" Spencer smiled as he tilted his head at you.

You scoffed playfully as you held up your own coffee cup as he other hand came to hold yours as the two of you made your way out of the small coffee shop. "I didn't" You reminded, waiting for his reply before you finished your idea for a joke as you tilted your head to look up at him.

He hummed, amused as he glanced down at you, "Yeah 'cause your sweet enough" He finished the joke for you.

You gasped, as if he just completely read your mind, playing into your running joke "Exactly!! See if we were both thinking it, it must be true" You sigh out dramatically, the smile on your lips never fading.

"Must be" He agreed, biting back as wide grin as his eyes pulled away from yours for a moment, looking around the street he was looking down, his eyes stopping on a little flower shop.

"Thats where I was when I got your email.. Your first one" He muttered out softly, your turn to follow his gaze. Your chest going fuzzy at how this all started at such a sweet place, a flower shop.

"I was with Derek, we were suppose to be picking up coffee for the rest of the team but then he got distracted wanting to ask out a girl who was in here.. I was forced to stay here for about an hour as they talked and then eventually he brought her flowers, but I was a sitting--" He pauses to point at a chair outside the flower shop, next to a little table, the rest of his hand still wrapped around the coffee cup.

"There. I was reading through my emails and I remember reading the one from you and I was so embarrased, I wasn't going to reply at first, but there was just something- I don't know but I'm really glad i did" He rambled.

You listened silently and fondly as you could almost remember the day like the back of your hand, unfotunately your experience wasn't as sweet as his or in any pretty place like a flower shop, instead you were in your office when you had gotten his email. He turned his head to look at you with a soft smile.

"I'm really glad you did too" You said honestly.

His eyes lingered on yours for a second before he smiled, "Come with me" He said gently as he started walking. You laughed, as if you were going to go anywhere else. You followed him, hand in hand as he walked towards the flower shop he had been talking about.

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as he pulled you inside. It was a sweet smelling store, you looked around the pretty flowers in different bouquets, before turning back to look at Spencer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

His eyes were scanning the store for the flowers he remembered you telling him were your favourites, he remembered everything you told him, even if he didn't want to he couldn't help it. The minute Spencer saw them in the back corner of the store he was dragging you towards them gently, not missing the sound of your laugh ringing through his ears -- another thing about you he would never forget.

He had been grateful for his eidetic memory many times in his life but never more than the moment he saw your face light up at the sight of the flowers, and moreso at the fact that he did remember -- you knew deep down he remembered everything but it didn't make it any less special to you.

"Spence" You cooed sweetly as your head turned to face him, his eyes were already on you.

"I wanted to get you flowers to give you when you got to the airport, but I couldn't stop because I didn't want to not be there when you got there and the first time we met, but the shops around didn't have any of these" He mumbled out, nerves lingering in his tone.

You huffed out a laugh as your chest tightened in wake of his sweet words. You wondered how on earth this man was real. You wondered if maybe this was all a dream and he was just a figment of your imagination, a creation that could only exist in your head and outside of reality. But there he was, standing in front of you looking so pretty, and sweet, and talking about wanting to get you flowers.

"Spencer" You repeat his name, its becoming a real challenge to not cup his face in your hands and kiss him. "You don't have to" You say softly.

He shakes his head, "I do, because thats the least of what you deserve, I think of you everytime I walk past this place, I think of you everytime I see those flowers -- I- I think about you all the time." He breaths out.

You stomach swams, you wondered if this was the begining of a romance confession, or if you had just watched too many love films. You didn't think love like that existed, and yet you were standing here with Spencer, feeling the exact way you imagined it to.

You were almost at a loss for words, thankfully, like always he was saving you from your mind blank by talking again, almost as if he needed to say it just as much as you needed to hear it.

"I'm not good at.. This.. thing. Feelings and situations, they make me anxious and uncertain and I don't like it, I like labels, and satistics, and science, I like certainity." He mumbled out his hand squeezing gently around yours.

You squeezed his back.

"In saying that, I am going to ask you a question and if it doesn't work out like I am really hoping it does, that is okay. I really really enjoy having you in my life. I have ever since you became apart of it. I hated email and now I don't because everytime I use it, I think of you. I am not a nervous rambler, a rambler, yes, but not because im nervous -- most of the time, until I met you. I really, really like you and I would really like for you to be my girlfriend" He breathed out.

You couldn't break the grin on your face. You didn't think anything could, your heart was beating outside your chest and you were almost scared it was going to break your ribs with the intensity. You had to pause and take a deep breath as you tried to regain your ability to talk.

This was something out of the sweetest romance novel, he was something out of the sweetest romance novel.

"I would really like that too" You huff out a heavy breath through your words, as your hand frees from his to wrap around his neck gently, careful of the coffee that was still in your hand.

He let out a sigh he had been holding in as his eyes smiled at you, his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you flush against him as his head bent down to sink in place in your neck.

You felt so full. Everything felt so right. Here, with him, in his arms, like this. There wasn't quite a feeling that compared to this moment that you had felt before, there wasn't anything you wanted more than him in, this moment.

The minute his head pulled away from your neck to look at your face, he had that sort of look in his eye, the same one that you had where there was just a different sort of glow, a different happiness behind them.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, it gave you deja vu to the first time the two of you had met, you smiled widely. Nodding your head.

"You're my boyfriend now, you don't have to ask"

[damiansgoodgirll]

HIIIIIII I saw you're Damian and Rhea x reader that you just posted AND I HAVE A IDEA (No rush I'm just sending it so I don't forget)

OKAY SO in the same universe as the previous fic what if backstage on Monday night raw finn starts trying to convince the reader to join the new judgment day (bc he obviously still cares for the kid) like trying to get jd or Dom to guilt trip them or even getting liv Morgan to be buddy buddy since reader had trouble making friends.

But the reader STAYS LOYAL to the terror twins 🖤

running to write this because i love it, here’s part one

the judgment day x reader (platonic) , mention of drew mcintyre

‼️finn being a good manipulator lol, family issues, fear of abandonment, angst, reader feeling insecure, brief mention of suicidal thoughts (sorry it’s a little angst)

don’t break my heart - part 2

you lied if you said that you slept the night right after summerslam. no, you were in your hotel room watching the ceiling over and over, thinking of what was going to happen now. damian and rhea made sure to stay with you a few hours after the show, helping you calm down and making sure that you would eat something.

but they were tired and angry, so you perfectly understood when they waved goodbye and went to their rooms. they needed time to think and to cool off.

5 am and you were up to board on your next flight that didn’t leave until noon. you were living off on caffeine and sugar drinks but you didn’t care. you had no idea what was going to happen on monday night raw because you weren’t supposed to have any matches that night, you knew you would go with rhea and damian but you didn’t know what your future was going to be.

once you landed and you checked in into your new hotel room, you received a text from finn, saying to let him know once you arrived at the arena because he wanted to talk to you.

you drove along with rhea and damian and they both sensed your fear as you kept quiet, “you okay there?” damian asked you.

“uh?” you woke up from your trance.

“dam asked if you were okay, is everything okay y/n?” rhea added turning to face you.

“oh yes, i’m okay, just a lil nervous…” you hated lie to them, you hated lie in general but you couldn’t tell them that you were about to meet with finn. they would probably get mad at you and the last thing you wanted was to have your best friends hating on you too, so you kept it for yourself.

damian kept driving, knowing that eventually you would open up to them when you were ready.

once at the arena you waved them goodbye and went straight to your changing room. rhea told you to get ready in case something happened and if she needed your help so you did as she told you.

you texted finn and told him he could come over if he needed to talk to you so bad and not even 10 minutes later you heard a knock on the door.

“come in…” you screamed and he let himself in.

“hey…”

“hi” you couldn’t deny that the situation was awkward. you stood there for a couple of minutes before he could talk.

“listen…y/n i’m so sorry for everything that happened at summerslam” he apologized to you but you knew he wasn’t sorry at all.

“you lied to me finn…”

“and you lied to damian and rhea because i’m pretty sure they don’t know i’m here” he smirked at you and that look made you sick in the stomach.

“are you here to threaten me? are you to destroy the little family i have left? what do you want finn…i have no time for more bullshit, please” your voice sounded broken and finn hated himself for the way he treated you.

“i know…i’m so sorry for everything and you have to believe me…i’m not sorry for damian or for rhea because i got tired of being their little puppy, dominik too…but i have nothing against you, never have, never wil…i care about you y/n…don’t you remember all the things we shared? all the things we’ve went through?”

and you couldn’t lie to him. you will always remember how kind and patient and caring he has always been with you.

he was the first person you told about your past, even before telling damian and rhea. he was the one who held you while you cried when you told him about your thought of ending your life. he was the one who comforted you and made sure you never felt left out. and he was true when he said you’ve been through a lot because he was always there for you.

but so were damian and rhea so you couldn’t understand why was finn telling you all of that.

“why are you here finn?” you simply asked him, his way of bringing back memories made you feel guilty. seeing how much you depended upon someone made you realize that you probably were better alone than with someone.

“i want you to join us…”

“join who?”

“me…y/n, me, dom, jd and liv…listen, i know you and i know damian and rhea and they will leave you at some point…they are both chasing vengeance and power, they want their titles back, they won’t be with you forever and, i’m sorry to say it but they won’t take care about you forever…you saw the way rhea treated dom or the way damian treated jd…” his words were starting to impress in your head “jd kinda likes you” he chuckled “no, i’m pretty sure he has a crush on you…and listen, liv is really a friendly person, i know you don’t like her right now but i promise you, if you get to know her you will like her more…just give us a chance”

maybe he was right.

maybe you would ended up being alone one day and he was right about that damian and rhea had their own lives apart from you. hell, rhea just got married, maybe she would like to start a family one day…maybe finn was right.

finn always cared about you, he proved it many times so why were you afraid of trusting him?

“i-i…i don’t know finn…” your mind started to overthink. you were feeling overwhelmed and despite you still loved finn, despite you still caring for him, you couldn’t betray damian and rhea.

“listen i-…”

“no finn, you listen to me. how can you expect me to choose between you or them? how-how can you tear this family apart like this? because maybe for you it was nothing but for me…for me it was everything…” tears slowly falling down your face.

finn knew that it was wrong putting you in all of this mess. he knew that no matter what he still would have a space for you in his heart but the idea of choosing them instead of him made him feel useless, like somehow he failed you.

“i can’t choose between you or them because you are the ones who broke this group apart…” more tears falling from your eyes “i-i can’t finn…i can’t” and before he could say anything else, you turned to face the door and quickly left your changing room.

drew noticed you walking down the arena corridors with teary eyes and no matter how many time he called you, your mind couldn’t register any sound or noise. it felt like you couldn’t hear anything except your heart beating in your chest.

i just saw y/n crying and going towards the emergency exit of the arena. finn balor just came out of her changing room. don’t know what happened but she seems overwhelmed, she needs you.

drew texted rhea. he was pretty worried when he saw in what state you were in. he knew that even if he chased you, you probably would have just pushed him away. he knew something about your past and he knew how the other females in the roster would give you “the looks” and honestly he felt for you, he just wanted you to feel welcomed because for him, the wwe was just a big huge family. he knew that you needed time, that’s why he warned rhea.

when she read the text, she felt her heart missing a few beats.

“what?” damian asked a little concerned when he saw the look on her face.

she was still a little shocked “drew texted me…he saw finn leaving y/n’s changing room and he said that when she left she was crying…she’s probably going’s back to the hotel, he said she’s going outside”

that was all damian needed to hear before leaving rhea’s changing room and sprinting over the emergency exit. rhea following behind, making a note to thank drew later.

they both saw you sitting on the emergency stairs and slowly they both approached you.

damian sat in front of you while rhea sat next to you “hey angel…” rhea slowly turned your face towards hers “why are you crying beautiful?”

in that moment you saw it in their eyes.

they cared.

they cared like a family.

rhea was about to cry because she couldn’t stand the idea of seeing you upset.

“finn wanted to talk to me…he, well, he basically offered me a spot to join him alongside with dom, jd and liv…” you said. you feared that they would get mad but rhea’s eyes told you the opposite.

“and what did you say?” damian asked you, gently smiling at you.

“that i can’t…i can’t leave you, i can’t even look him in the eyes, it just hurts too much and i can’t have you hate on me too” you softly spoke.

damian looked at you and saw nothing but pure intentions “y/n…we could never hate you. we know how close you and finn are, and i know it hurts right now so we won’t forbid you to see him again if you want to…”

“but i can’t damian! it doesn’t feel right, it’s not right! i’m not turning my back on you, i would never do that…you guys mean so much for me and i can’t stand the idea of losing you or hate you but…but finn said some things that made me think…”

“what did he say sweetheart?” rhea gently asked.

“well, for instance, rhea you just got married…and i can’t hold you back for the rest of my life just because my head is a fucking mess, you have your life and i don’t want you to feel the need to look after me forever…same goes for you damian, i can’t depend on you for the rest of my life…”

“that’s absolute nonsense y/n” damian said and rhea agreed with him. she was mad with finn for playing those mind tricks with you, knowing exactly that your mind wasn’t in the right place and that you would get negative thoughts very easily.

“listen” damian spoke “we are a family okay? we stay together, now, tomorrow and in ten years okay? just because we have a life outside this company doesn’t mean that you’re not a part of our life outside of it okay? we stay together instead and outside…i love you like you are my own sister, fuck you could be my daughter y/n…” damian joked making you laugh.

“damian’s right” rhea held your hands “we stay together because we care about you, now and in a million years…”

“thank you for everything guys…” you smiled at both at them.

“you don’t have to thank us love…” rhea wiped some of your tears away “now, why don’t you help me getting ready uh? tonight’s gonna be a big night and i want to look perfect” she laughed making you laugh too.

“yup” you smiled and with their help you got up from the uncomfortable stairs.

rhea mentally noted to thank drew and to kick finn’s ass because he made you doubt yourself, and most importantly, he made you cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

okay so what about part 3 with reader and drew getting to know each other and developing feelings for each other and damian and rhea acting like big parents to reader?

PART 3

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

🤍

sooo here is my request! thank you!

Reader is bucky's ex fiancé (40's) and she is like a supersoldier too (she froze with steve and now she is an avenger)

but bucky does not remember her, so she has to deal with watching him dating some agents while she tries to make him remember that part of their life together (maybe with some letters and pics of them)

some angst - hurt / comfort with happy ending! 😭🤍

just bc i love this blog i would like to be "🕷️ anon" 😂

Remember Me » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Ex Fiancée/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Ex Fiancée/Avenger!Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be engaged in the 1940s, but he doesn’t remember you and you have to deal with him going on dates with other agents so you do everything you can to get him to remember you.

Warnings: mix of Angst and Fluff, language, crying, flashbacks, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also you can be my 🕷️ anon🥰

A/N #2: Italic text is flashbacks. I imagined this as Bucky’s post Winter Soldier phase and the reader is a Super Soldier in this.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

You stood in the doorway of the conference room, patiently waiting for Bucky to stop flirting with an agent so you can get him to sign paperwork from a previous mission. You couldn’t help but feel jealous. You and Bucky were engaged in the 1940s, but it didn’t last long. After a few minutes, Bucky finally noticed you standing in the doorway.

“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” Bucky says to the agent and kissed her cheek.

Hearing Bucky call her doll felt like someone ripped your heart out of chest and crushed it in their bare hands. That’s what he used to call you.

“Can I help you, Agent?” He asks you.

“I need you to sign these papers from your mission last week.” You tell him, handing him the file.

“I’ll get these to you later.” He says.

You nodded and walked out of the conference room. You were about halfway down the hall when you had to lean against the wall and take a moment to yourself. Your back slid down the wall and you sat down on the floor. Your mind began to wander.

“You know I love you, right, doll?” Bucky asks.

“Of course I know that, Bucky.” You say with a smile.

Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours and kissed your lips sweetly.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes.” You lied.

You stood up from the floor and walked past Steve. Your walk was cut short when Steve gently grabbed your arm.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He pleads softly.

“You already know what’s wrong.” You said. “I have to live with the fact that my ex fiancée doesn’t remember me at all and I have to deal with him dating other agents.” You say.

“Give him time, Y/N. He’ll remember you.” He says softly.

You gave him a soft smile before walking away.

Later that same day, you were in the gym, punching the punching bag as hard as you could. You were trying to get the thought of Bucky out on a date with that agent. You punched the punching bag one last time before leaving the gym.

You got on the elevator to go to your bedroom. As soon as you got off of the elevator, you seen Bucky kissing that agent. You stood there with a shattered heart. You quickly went to your room before he seen you.

You immediately caught a glimpse of the picture of you and Bucky from the day he proposed to you. You picked up the picture from your nightstand and looked at it, reminiscing that day.

“Where are you taking me, Bucky?” You asked, followed by a giggle.

“You’ll find out in a minute, doll.” Bucky says.

Bucky told you he had a surprise for you and blindfolded you for it. Your walking came to a stop and Bucky let go of you.

“Take the blindfold off.” He says.

You took the blindfold off and gasped. Bucky took you to yours and his favorite tree. Your favorite flowers were surrounding the bottom of it and he carved “Will you marry me?” on the tree with a pocket knife.

“Bucky-” You turned around and gasped.

“What do you say doll?” Bucky was down on one knee with a small velvet box with a beautiful diamond ring in it. “Will you marry me?” He asks.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!” You answered with happy tears streaming down your cheeks.

Bucky smiles widely and stood up. He slid the ring on your ring finger and kissed you passionately.

That memory slowly faded away. You let out a shaky breath and your eyes began to water. You took a deep breath before taking a shower and went to bed.

The next morning, as you were getting dressed you seen something shining on your dresser from the corner of your eye. It was Bucky’s Army dog tags. You picked them up and looked at them. A smile grew on your face when an idea popped into your head. You immediately went to the kitchen, already knowing Bucky was in there.

“Morning, Bucky!” You chirped.

“It’s Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky corrects you.

“What?” You asked, blinking a couple times.

“You called me Bucky. Only friends call me that. Agents call me Sergeant Barnes.” He says.

“Oh…” Your voice sounding sad. “I umm…” You found what you were trying to say. “I just wanted to show you something.” You finally say.

“What is it?” He asks.

You held out your hand, showing him his Army dog tags. Bucky snatched them from your hand, making you flinch a little.

“Why the hell do you have these?” He asks harshly.

“I uhh… Steve gave them to me in 1945 when you di- fell off the train.” You tell him. “He thought that I might want them cause you’re my ex fiancée.” You explained.

“I’m not your ex fiancée.” Bucky’s words cut you deep like a knife. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I sure as hell know that I’m not your ex fiancée.” He says before walking away.

You stood in the middle of kitchen with tears streaming down your face. You hoped that showing Bucky his Army dog tags would spark something in his memory of you, but you guessed wrong.

“Why would you give these to Agent Y/L/N after I fell off the train in 1945?” Bucky asks Steve when he walked in the conference room.

“She’s your ex fiancée. I assumed that’s what you wanted. I was just honoring your wishes.” Steve answered.

“She’s not my ex fiancée! I’ve never been engaged in my life!” Bucky raised his voice. “You’re the second person to say that to me today!” He says.

Bucky walked out of the conference room before Steve could say anything else. He stood up from his seat and went to find you. He found you crying at the kitchen table. He sat down next to you and immediately started comforting you.

“I’m fine, Steve.” You lied, your voice cracking.

“No you’re not.” Steve said. “You have every right to be upset.” He says softly.

You turned towards Steve and laid your head on his shoulder, letting your tears free fall. Steve being the good friend he is, comforted you in the only way he knows.

“He basically said that I’m not his friend and I can’t call him Bucky.” You cried against his shoulder. “It’s like I never existed to him.” You say.

“You’re more than his friend.” He says softly.

“I know that, but he doesn’t.” You say, followed by a sniffle.

Later that day, you kept trying to come with ways to get Bucky to remember you. So far you couldn’t come up with anything. You were sitting in the conference room, filling out paperwork when you got lost in your memories of you and Bucky.

“Bucky!” You squealed as Bucky picked you up from behind and spun you around, making burst into a fit of giggles.

Bucky finally put you down on your feet and turned you around so you were facing him. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately.

The memory was interrupted when Bucky dropped a file on the table in front of you. You looked at the file and then looked at Bucky.

“Steve said to sign these and to get them to him by the end of the day.” Bucky says blandly.

“Will do, Sergeant.” You say.

You watched Bucky walk out of the conference room. You stared at the unopened file for a moment before leaving the room without finishing your paperwork. You went straight to your bedroom to get something. You wanted to try to get Bucky to remember you again.

You went in your closet, going to the back of it. You opened a plastic storage container where you kept all of the letters Bucky wrote you while he was in the Army. You picked them up and immediately went to find Bucky. You found him in the lounge room kissing another agent.

“Sergeant?” Bucky acted like he didn’t hear you. “Sergeant Barnes?” You say louder.

Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes before looking at you. The agent he was kissing walked past you, giving you a small smile.

“Is there something I can do for you, Agent?” Bucky asks.

“I wanted to read these papers.” You say.

You hand him the old letters. Bucky took the letters from your hands and read them, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion when he seen his name signed at the bottom of each letter.

“What are these and why is my name on all of these?” He asks.

“Those are the letters you sent me in the 1940s when you were in the Army.” You tell him.

Bucky continued to read the letters. A hopeful smile grew on your face, but didn’t last long. He stood up and shoved the letters in your hands.

“That’s not me.” He says.

“But-” You got interrupted.

“But nothing. We were never engaged. Stop trying to get me to remember things that never happened.” He says.

You nodded as your eyes began to water. You went back to your room and put the letters back. You were about to close the container when you saw a stuffed puppy Bucky won you at Coney Island on yours and his first date. You took it out of the container and sat on your bed, holding it close to you as the memory of that day appeared in your mind.

You stood next to Bucky and watched him knock down all the bottles with a small ball. You smiled and cheered him on.

“What prize would you like, doll?” Bucky asks you.

You looked at the variety of stuffed animals displayed in front of you. You smiled when you seen a stuffed puppy with a red bow on it.

“That one.” You say, pointing at it.

The worker handed it to you. You took it from him and held it close to you.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You say, smiling up at him.

“Anything for my best girl.” He says, kissing you sweetly.

You sadly sighed and laid down with the stuffed puppy in your arms. You didn’t even know you fell asleep, because you woke up to the sound of someone knocking on your bedroom door. You got out of bed and opened the door to see Bucky.

“Can I help you, Sergeant Barnes?” You asked.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asks.

You nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to come in your room. You closed the door behind you and waited for him to say something.

“I just wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been talking to you the past couple days.” He apologizes. “I just don’t understand why you keep saying we were engaged years ago when-” That’s when Bucky seen the picture of you and him on your nightstand. “This is me.” He says, picking up the picture to look at it.

“It’s me and you in 1941.” You tell him. “I have more pictures if you want to see them.” You say.

Bucky nodded. You went in the closet to get the pictures. You opened a photo album, showing him a bunch of pictures of the two of you when you guys were together. He took the photo album from you to get a closer look at them. He looked through the pictures without saying a word. Another hopeful smile grew on your face, hoping that Bucky will remember who you are this time. The smile was short lived when Bucky shoved the photo album in your hands and left your bedroom without saying a word. A sad sigh left your lips and you put away the pictures. You were beginning to think that Bucky was never going to remember you, but you weren’t going to give up that hope.

Bucky was supposed to be getting ready for a date with another agent, but those pictures of you and him together were the only thing on his mind. He sat in the lounge room, trying his best to remember who you are, but nothing rang a bell. His thoughts were interrupted when the agent he’s supposed to go on a date with walked in the room.

“Hi!” The agent chirps. “Are you ready?” She asks.

“Yea, I just-” That’s when his memories of you flowed back in his mind like a broken dam. “Actually no. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.” He says, leaving the room and leaving the agent confused.

Bucky searched around the whole compound for you, but couldn’t find you. He accidentally bumped into Steve without realizing it. Steve walked after him and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Buck, calm down. What’s wrong?” Steve asks.

“Y/N. Where’s Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“She’s outside.” He tells him. “Why?” He asks.

Bucky didn’t answer Steve’s question. He just ran outside, looking for you. He didn’t have to go far. You were sitting on the bench trying to figure out another way to get Bucky to remember you. He walked over to you and grabbed your arm, pulling you up from the bench and kissed you passionately. You were caught by surprise, but kissed him back. He pulled away from your lips, leaving the two of you breathless.

“I remember.” Bucky tells you. “I remember you.” He says.

“You remember me?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“Yes.” He confirms. “Seeing those letters and pictures made me remember everything.” He smiles. “I’m sorry for the way things ended between us. I was just pissed. Please forgive me and give me another chance, doll.” He says apologetically.

Your eyes began to water with happy tears, a couple tears rolled down your cheeks. Hearing Bucky call you doll for the first time in years made you happy.

“Don’t cry, doll.” He wipes your tears away. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes again.

“I can’t help it.” You sniffled. “I just missed you.” You say.

You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly, not wanting to let go. Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“How about we picked up where we left off.” Bucky suggests.

“You still want to marry me?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course I do.” He smiles widely. “You’re my best girl.” He says.

“I don’t have the engagement ring you gave me anymore. I accidentally lost it.” You say, feeling ashamed.

“It’s ok. I’ll buy you another one. In the meantime…” Bucky took his dog tags off and put them around your neck. “You can wear these as an engagement ring.” He says.

You looked down at his dog tags, smiling widely. You looked up at him and cupped his stubbly cheeks. You stood on your tippy toes and kissed him passionately. Bucky’s hands found their way to your waist and pulled you against his body.

“I love you so much, Bucky.” You say against his lips.

“I love you more, doll.” Bucky says softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere dc: meeting camgirl! reader <3 pt. 2

Yuppp, this is the part two of my previous post <33 but this time she'll be meeting the rest of the batboys and kon! (reminder she has met some of them even from before!!)

if you get into the 'terry mcginnis' part and is confused on who he is, watch batman beyond bc hes the new batman and its sooo good and hes underrated <3

Anywho here it isss

BIG warning: this may more or less have the same amount of clownery as the last one so prepare my sweets and also my brain is fried so some parts might not make sense but i tried😔💔 please repost to support me i spent sm timee 😭

tim drake aka 'red robin':

Also one of your most biggest and creepiest faithful fans that you've ever had in your stream!

Hes a frequent donor AND victim to your relentless charms just like jason and dick.

Has met you before you decided to even become a cam girl, as you two both go to the same school AND classes too 🥰 (he may or may have not gotten bruce to manipulate the principal or some higher up into changing classes...)

he's like a lovesick highschool student who developed a crush, but this time more extreme.

While you on the otherhand, saw a weird looking boy staring at you with the most fullest smile you've ever seen. toothy, cheshire grin, and all-- (he ran away almost IMMEDIATELY when you saw him)

(...you also chased after him when he ran 💀 he was shooked, but stops once your hand grabs his shoulder and you ask him who he was)

"You >:D i saw you looking at me, who are you >:)"

...my, he never knew you were this bold... you really need to stop being so cute or your further fueling his delusions i swear--

You shake him. "Ow- okay-- my name's Tim--"

You then smile and drag a stunned but intrigued timothy with you.

...Are you perhaps some social butterfly, darling?...

From that moment on, tim's interest in you increases and a friendship between you and him bloomed! Hes so proud of himself for making the first move even though you did it first...

(Again, dont ask how darling lives in bludhaven, but meets tim and jason whose in gotham 💀 either think of her as having teleportation powers being the reason for the frequent back-and-forths or tim being so obssessed, he moves in bludhaven just to see reader--)

When i said creepy, i said c r e e p y. Even worse than klarion, thaddeus, and even dick who i said before was on another level 😦

Tim is both sweet, nervous, and shy... or at least, is how he shows himself for you.

he must look decent for you or how else would he make you reciprocate his feelings?

He's capable of changing in a blink of an eye so anybody who isn't his beloved, dont test him, okay? <3

He sits in the back with darling in class. In the back. You heard me.

Normally he'd be in the front to be able to see and listen better, but darling is a slacker so--

He sighs, looking at his rushed and poorly written notes. He doesnt even know what the topic is anymore, and it kinda looks like hieroglyphics--

Meanwhile, you on the otherhand, was cooking instant noodles with the others... with a pot AND a stove... D: (he loves you but damn he wants to cry rlly bad on how screwed you two are--)

As for the part where he finds out about your part-time job as a cam girl, this man was seething.

No honey, not at you, but at your parents-- how could they let their beautiful daughter do this?! Do they even care?!-- oh? What was that, darling?... Your parents were gone? i guess that explains it...

proceeds to feel bad for you, and wishes to look after you. But you being you, you remain so hardheaded. Why cant you let him love you?? why cant you quit that stupid job?! >:( (hes a bit hypocritical on this one since he literally donates thus further fueling you to go on)

Sigh... nevertheless, he realizes a bit that he can't persuade someone like you for now, so he donates in your live like the good friend he is...

Yeah, 'good friend'...

In the darkness of his room, he watches with unblinking eyes the way your body moves on his screen. You look so enticing, the way a bit of pink colors your cheeks, how every moan you give were light and breathy... simply fantastic. He sighs.

"Oh baby... what am i going to do with you?... <3"

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 38% for nuisance, 70% for humor (80% as red robin)

⋆˚✿˖°

conner kent aka 'superboy':

Ah yes, another top donor and one of your most perverted watchers out there.

Cocky, rebellious, womanizing... doll, you're just another girl for him to use in order to piss off tim since he loves pushing that man's patience so much.

Has probably met you through him too, as this man follows his best friend that has been, in his eyes, acting a bit too strange lately.

And he now knows why. You.

thinks you're absolutely adorable. the way you act out of impulse to the way you speak so brazenly to him, intrigues the kryptonian so much.

Hm, your going to be so much fun to play with <3

But unfortunately, the boy of steel did not know who he was up against.

"...Doll, what did you just say?--" it was 8 at night and he was in his best attire holding a bouquet of flowers. Not just your average red roses, but a well-thought out blend of daffodils, carnations, and tulips. just for you.

But right now, you're breaking his heart.

"Yeah Kon, i love you but no. i'm not dating you. Sorry."

...you don't have the right to say you love him.

"a-and why can't we date?--" he was so confused, these months spent trying to court you, all wasted.

"erm... im not interested, kon. yeah you're hot and you support me and all, but im gonna be honest with you... you're not my type. and plus..."

he feels his heart break even more when you continue.

"...I'm interested in someone. I've known them for so long Kon, and i would hurt them if i get with you."

...

"...sorry." you run away.

things with kon has never felt the same since. he no longer visits tim just to see you, only him. he ignores you too, not even a single glance being spared. but you swear you could feel cold blue eyes watching your figure sometimes...

...and then that happens. you see a message notification from him. conner.

'im sorry if i made things awkward between us. forgive me, doll? :('

your thumb hovered whether or not to answer. you made your decision.

'kay. wanna play dti? :3'

he's so glad you cant see him right now... crying pure tears of joy, and complete relief that you took the bait.

'okay :)'

just because he got rejected by you once that doesnt mean he's immediately gonna back down <33 and about that boy you like, who was it? can't you tell him and he'll give a quick visit to the very lucky guy...

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 49% for nuisance, 80% for humor (95% as superboy)

ᯓᡣ𐭩

damian wayne aka 'robin':

...knows the guy that you like.

he's genuinely angry at you, but mostly at your taste.

seriously, him? why not him instead...

frequently donates money and is also very dedicated in line.

(to save you trouble, most of the batfam is a big fan to you and are often your biggest donors. they wish to stop you from pursuing such a... scandalous, line of work but cant help but further support you the more they give money and get addicted to the content you make 😞💔)

discovered you on accident when a certain someone, *cough* tim, *cough* left their computer on without closing the tabs.

you cannot simply imagine the sheer shock that painted his face during that time, seeing someone, you, getting it on with another guy that seems all too familiar.

...and he cant help but get angry. (you'll all understand soon enough why he and kon hates reader's man and possible bf sm 😭)

meeting you face to face... thats a whole situation. tim immediately regrets bringing damian to see you because this man already went off on how much of a 'hoe', you are.

you can take a lot of things, but this boy rubs you off wrong.

"seriously, drake? your new friend is a prostitute? you drew the line making friends with that kryptonian clone, but this takes the cak--"

*slap.*

...that hurts. damian's hand slowly makes its way up to his cheek, where the red was starting to spring.

he looks at you like you were mad. you are, thanks to him. "...you... you little---"

he was held back by an angry but calmer kon despite being also insulted, whilst tim holds you comfortably.

"hey don't listen to damian over there, alright? :( he's just a bit--"

"I'm speaking facts here!-- hmpfh!" a hand covers his mouth.

"seriously tim, does he ever shut his mouth?" kon says.

he huffs. "no. and that's why i was considering bringing duct tape earlier, Kon."

...okay, maybe his first impression forever got him labelled as a bitch in your eyes, but damian tries to make it up to you in any way he can since he actually finds you decent after getting to know you. (think of those asian parents that after scolding you till you cry, they give you food but instead money in damian's version)

"...ahem."

no response.

"...AHEM."

you finally look up at him, and a bag was thrown straight at your face. "you stupid ass-- wait a minute." you look inside the bag and it was filled with... money.

you look up at damian, only to see his figure quickly dashing off and hide behind a wall where he would secretly try and take a peek for your reaction. you smile and give a thumbs up.

"...you aren't that bad, but try shutting your mouth most of the time, okay? :3 <3"

...the green in his eyes glinted... and he scoffs. typical damian wayne.

"...sure, prozzy-- HEY STOP CRYING--"

fierce but protective. rude but caring. that is what damian is towards you.

and that is how he'll always be as long as that man is around...

"i'll be with you. and i shall do everything in my power to ensure you do not end up with him!--" too late.

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 25% for nuisance, 78% for humor (89% as robin)

ִֶָ࣪☾.𔘓

terry mcginnis aka 'batman beyond':

...is the man that kon, damian, and the others have beef with.

how he's part of the main timeline in this is that all of the events before batman beyond happens earlier. (i also tweaked a few things in canon here so dont mind me)

terry's dad died before the entire 'Powers' situation, leading to Terry living with his mom earlier.

...terry also suffers from something.

at a young age, terry cannot feel any sort of emotions. remorse, empathy, such things were removed from him. he could only feel empty, comparable to having a large gaping hole inside his chest instead of a beating heart.

the boy ponders why he was cursed with such a thing, and why he could only feel pity and sadness. just a little.

...he thought he was unsavable. until--

his eyes lands on you, the girl who was playing on the playground's swing. (note: darling used to live in gotham as a kid)

...he gulps. pretty...

"you there, what's your name?" you asked. always the first one to make a move...

...and you sound nice.

"hm? well? :3"

...he decided to speak. "...terry. i'm terry... you?..."

you smile. "they call me (name), pretty right?" he could only nod. yes, it was very pretty...

i think everybody could guess how things go from then on.

he meets you, grows up with you, falls in love with you, and in the end lives happily with you... if only it weren't for his tendency to maim just about anyone who gets near you.

he's a dog, honey. but he's your rabid, vicious dog.

by the time he grows up, he's learned how to hide what he truly is from you, and the terry that we all come to know and love is now here.

charming, witty, humorous... terry mcginnis is nothing but an amorous boy for you... and you love it. (u match his freak sm)

in his eyes, you two are together <3 and its not even a lie you two are but you're too much in denial since you firmly believe he deserves better :( (tho thoughts like that dissapear when he and you yk ;))

absolutely hates it when you spend time with anyone, especially with his adopted siblings. dick, jason, tim, and damian? fuck no. (if you read the batman beyond comics, those two despise each other--)

...so expect those two to be at each other's necks.

and about the cam girl part, yup, this man knows. and like tim, he tries to persuade you to stop. you're a complicated person, he knows. either for money or fun, you do crazy shit like this every time... but this one's really serious.

"...look at me." you obey, eyes staring back at ocean blue ones. terry's eyes were always so pretty...

"...hehe, pretty eyed as ever, mcginnis..." and he can't help but smile slightly at your words.

"..." damn you, really. his soft spot for you is huge, and 99% of the time, you get off the hook easily.

in the end, he might have allowed you to do this... 'artist' stuff, but on one condition:

he gets to f*ck you on some parts.

you blink, cheeks starting to redden. "...what--" and just like that, your fate is sealed <3

...currently, you were on Live. the rest of your boy toys watched with envious yet very heated gazes as your pussy was getting demolished by his dick. the close up shots were so unnecessary, the way he roughly pummels into you was so--

'$10000 from GR4YS0N_68'

'GR4YS0N_68: ugh yea terry ruin that little bitches cunt'

terry grins, feeling you getting closer. the position you and him were in was perfect, babe... perfect for a pic.

his strong hand gently but firmly grabs your jaw, making you face the camera.

he whispers to you so closely."smile for the camera, sweetie."

you oblige, a broken smile on your lips. the stream abruptly ends.

no need for the public to know what you both are doing in private anymore...

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 0.0001% for nuisance, 90% for humor (100% as batman beyond)

(finally its finished 🤕 i have so many unfinished works huhu....)

(update: ill also try editing this too <3)

[buckets-and-trees]

hii i have a request this can be for Ransom or Andy

But imagine y/n and him are in an arranged marriage. y/n is doing everything she can for him to sign the divorce paper for examples smashing his cars, serving overly salty food, cutting his expensive clothes into pieces, disrespecting his workers, and spending his money on the most useful things (but if it ransom spending money at “low class” retail shops only bc I feel like he’ll hate that), etc.

instead of giving her a divorce, he just randomly starts acting like a romantic gentleman until the night ends he punishes her 🙊😈

I have to apologize for taking so long to answer this ask... and forgive me for not using all the inspo you dropped my way, but from the MOMENT I read this, I knew it was going to fuel something very specific for I'm Your Man Andy and his entrapped fiancé reader., and so I still needed to post it as an answer to this to give some credit where it's due. So even though it took months and months to get to here, this is the result.

Title: Don't Look Too Far Characters/Pairings: soft!dark mafia Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: After jetting away with Andy for a week, you're back. The reality that this is going to be your life starts to settle in in very unsettling ways. And although Andy's taken so many liberties with you already, he finally crosses a line you didn't know was on the board.

Content/Warnings: violent behavior; spanking as punishment; emotional manipulation; explicit smut: nipple play, cock stroking, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex; use of pet name (sweetheart), implied dacryphilia

Author Note: This is not a stand alone section! You can find the previous parts here.

Author Note 2: I've been sitting on this for a long time, and I'm excited to finally have it here to share with you. Some of you genuinely seem to love this awful Andy, and you'll like this chapter. Some of you kinda like him against your will and I think you'll like this chapter (cough @stargazingfangirl18 cough). Some of you loathe this man, and you might like at least a few things in this chapter (looking at @biteofcherry).

You are glad to get home from your whirlwind trip with Andy.

Everything had been stunning, luxurious, and beyond your wildest dreams in one of the places you’d been longing to go almost your entire life. Even Andy had been nearly wonderful and certainly subjected you to endless spoiling and copious amounts of exquisite sex.

He makes all of this so difficult.

The private jet touches down in the early afternoon, and Andy allows you to avoid him until dinner. One of the things he’d made clear was an expectation from day one was having dinner together. After dinner, he insists on taking you for a ride in his Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante – not his only sports car in the gargantuan garage of his mansion, and not even the only Aston Martin. Though he gave you no choice in whether or not to join him, he doesn’t force conversation, merely lets you enjoy the scenic drive, occasionally holding your hand. Once home, he takes you to bed and gets you to scream out through two orgasms for him before he lets you rest in peace.

The next morning, you awake alone. Andy only invokes a little small talk in the kitchen, lets you know he’ll be taking a few meetings, places a kiss on the top of your head while you eat breakfast at the counter, and then leaves.

It is more room than you have been used to in the mornings, and you don’t question it. You are happy to have the Saturday to yourself.

Three days after Andy so decisively put his engagement ring on your finger, he put a black card in your wallet. Today you will break it in.

You start at a hair salon you have never been able to afford but that had been on the “essential” list of prenuptial rituals for some of the wealthiest brides you’d planned nuptials for. Having the long-standing relationship with the establishment to arrange appointments for your clients meant they were willing to fit you in last minute for the late morning.

You hold yourself back from doing anything drastic. You don’t want to give Andy the satisfaction of driving you to go for a new style. You leave more than a generous tip.

You get lunch at a small sandwich shop – one of your favorites. You choose a table with a view out one of the large windows. It’s nice to be in a familiar place, even with the presence of Shep watching out for the non-existent security threats.

After lunch, you ask Mark to drive you to the plant nursery you love.

You get everything you want, leaving no plant behind if it strikes your fancy. You buy lovely pots for all of them and never look at price tags. When you tap your card for the enormous bill, it’s with a self-satisfied smirk on your face.

Next you go to the nail salon. They are busy, as it’s Saturday afternoon, just as you knew they would be, but they say they can take you in an hour or less, and since you have no demands on your time, you’re more than fine waiting.

As it’s late summer, it really is too warm for the plants to stay in your car, so you insist on sending Mark home with the plants – you know better than to try to convince Shep to go with him. The man has made it clear he will not shirk his duty as the point man for the security Andy has assigned to you. He’s ever present, and you don’t give him a hard time – he’s only doing his job. Shep doesn’t like your suggestion, however, and instead calls someone from the house to come pick up your plants so neither of the men have to leave.

Once your pedicure and manicure are complete, you check your phone while you’re escorted to the SUV. Your mom has sent you a text.

MOM: Call me when you get a chance! I want to hear all about your trip!

You frown as you slide into the backseat.

How did she know?

Since being trapped and installed into the life of the mob boss, you’ve avoided getting together with any of your friends or family, phone calls, and any deep text conversations. It’s self-isolation, nothing mandated from Andy. But what would you tell them about your new circumstance? Forced into an engagement with a charming, handsome man who just happens to be a mobster with control issues you were sure you could never escape from? Not a subject you want to get anywhere close to.

You only hesitate for another moment before you hit the call button and place the phone to your ear as Mark starts your drive home.

“Hello, dear!” your mom’s voice is clear and full of excitement.

“Hi, Mom,” you reply, smiling despite yourself.

Your heart aches for the weeks it’s been since you two last spoke. You missed her voice. You’re close with both of your parents. Your job had kept you incredibly busy over the past five years, but you usually spoke with them at least once a week and made it out to their house in the suburbs once or twice a month.

“I got your text,” you say simply, not sure how else to begin.

“Yes!” she exclaims, her voice full of enthusiasm. “I want to hear everything about your trip! But first, we have to talk about Andy!”

She can’t see it, but your jaw drops. “Andy?”

“He made us promise not to say anything until after lunch today – and I’m sorry, it’s why I haven’t texted or called all week, I wasn’t sure I couldn’t NOT bring him up, but he told us everything! How you met–”

“Well, you know I planned that signature gala for him,” you interject, somehow needing to jump in to clarify that point.

“Of course, yes, but how he was so impressed by you but waited until the event was over before saying anything, how he couldn’t help moving so fast with you. When he reached out earlier this week to set up the lunch with your father and I, he said he wanted us to meet him without you there so that we could thoroughly vet him and judge for ourselves without worrying you, make up our own minds even though he was obviously hoping we would approve since you’re engaged, but he didn’t reveal that detail until today.”

“Oh,” your mind is racing. “Andy always seems to have something up his sleeve.”

She laughs. “I can only imagine! And things certainly developed quickly!”

“Yes…” your voice is thick with hesitancy, and you know you can’t hide it from her.

“But your father and I want you to know that while you don’t need our approval, you have it. We’re surprised, but we approve. He’s so clearly smitten with you, and we know you would never jump into an engagement like this unless you were sure. We trust you.”

You don’t know what to say.

“I would have told you and Dad about the engagement,” you say. You don’t know when you would have. You were still so freshly coming to terms with its reality and ramifications…

Now telling your parents about Andy is yet another thing he has stolen from you.

“We know! We were young once, too! I can only imagine how much that man must have swept you away!” she soothes and exclaims, her voice bright and beaming through the phone.

It makes your chest ache because if this had evolved without Andy’s constant control, it might have been like this, and you would have gushed and been giddy with your mom right now in this moment.

“Why don’t we get lunch tomorrow just the two of us?” you suggest, wanting nothing more than to talk to your mom, but desperately needing to get off the phone so you can regroup, clear your thoughts, and figure out what in the world you are going to be able and willing to tell her.

“I would love that! Where do you want to go?”

You quickly sort out details that you promise to confirm over text, say your goodbyes, and then you end the call. You set the phone on the seat, drop your head back, and shut your eyes, fighting back angry tears. You wouldn’t let them fall down your cheeks.

“Your mom sounds like a lovely woman,” Shep interrupts your thoughts.

The laugh that tumbles out of your mouth is short and underscores how ridiculous all of this is. “She is. She’s not perfect, but she’s the best and has the biggest heart,” you respond with a genuine smile.

“She passed it on to you,” he says, meeting your eyes briefly in the rear-view mirror.

“You two should probably meet her tomorrow,” you offer up.

“We look forward to it,” Mark chimes in.

That’s the end of the exchange, but it dawns on you that while these two men have been assigned to your personal security and transportation, and they’re work for Andy, they have been nothing but professional, and you can see now that while they’re not warm and soft, there is a degree of care from them that has developed or that you’re only now recognizing exists that does seem to go beyond being a paycheck for them. Mark is probably close to your age, and you would guess Shep is eight or ten years older. Both men wear wedding bands on their left hands.

Having to have them assigned to you, you’re grateful it’s these two seemingly good men.

You’re sure there could be much worse.

You’re quiet the rest of the ride home, but your mind doesn’t stop racing.

“Would you like to get out at the front of the house or in the garage, ma’am?” Mark asks as you near the house. He always asks because the house is so large it makes a difference.

The corner of your mouth lifts as you decide, “The garage, please.”

The garage is a drive in basement level on the southeast corner of the house and holds two dozen cars, including the black Range Rover designated for you. You wonder if you’d ever be allowed to drive a car of your own again.

More aware now of the men, you notice there is a degree of ease that settles particularly over Shep now that you’re safe in the house again. You wonder if that’s always been the norm or if there’s a higher threat potential than usual. The shift does clue you into the reality that Andy is involved in more dangerous things than you thought. Instigator or target, you don’t know which he is, but regardless he’s swimming in dangerous waters, and you’re tied to his fate now.

This is your life.

Would you have chosen it?

Would you have?

A month ago, before the gala, you had genuinely been taken with him, even thought of him as you went to bed, alone, a hand on your breast and a toy between your legs and imagined what it would be like to have him there dealing out your pleasure instead. You hadn’t thought any serious interest being reciprocated from even the faintest possibility.

You had been so wrong.

And he’s dealt more pleasure than you had ever experienced.

More pain as well.

He was mindful of your physical limits, even if he rode them mercilessly.

He failed to comprehend the gravity of the rest of the pain he caused.

And today he reached a limit you hadn’t been expecting.

You slide out of the backseat when Shep opens your door, and instead of heading for the staircase in the corner, you move to the south wall of the garage and start opening cabinets. Shep tracks your movements but gives you space.

In the second set, you find Andy’s golf clubs.

Perfect.

You test a few of the drivers, and when you’re satisfied you’ve got the heaviest in your hands, you pull it clean out of the bag and make your way directly to the car you’ve noticed Andy favors most.

His silver Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante.

The very car he drove you around in last night.

You hold nothing back in your swings, cracking the glass with your second hit. The third doesn’t do much more damage, so you move to the metal body, and here’s where you see you will get at least some of your satisfaction, easier to create dents in the metal than breaking the windshield. You do manage to smash one of the windows. Then you round on the next car.

Neither Mark nor Shep move to stop you, but you do see Shep is on the phone briefly.

You guess that you won’t be alone for long, so you move to a third car. Andy arrives as you lay into the fourth car. You look over at him with apprehension, unsure of what his next move will be. He meets your gaze, surveys the damage you’ve done so far, looks back at you, and then takes up position leaning against the Range Rover.

You grit your teeth, then raise the club over your head and bring it down with a battle cry over the hood of the silver Porsche 911 Turbo. A fifth car bears the fire of your rage, and mid-swing on the sixth is when a someone finally grabs the other end of the iron. You scream in fury and turn to face Andy, who’s looming over you, his blue eyes dark, stormy, and his mouth a thin line.

You yank against the club, but his grip is firm. You don’t let go though, still trying to wrest it from his hands, eyes locked on his, and he uses the rod to pull you closer to him, nearly chest to heaving chest (yours, not his).

“That’s enough, sweetheart.” His fingers work yours away from the metal rod, and he clasps one of your hands in his to keep you close while - eyes on you - he tosses the club to Shep, who catches it easily.

You huff and try to pull your hand away, but he interlocks your fingers and then starts to lead you away and up the stairs. Not wanting to allow him seeing any petulance from you, you comply and follow him in silence. Adrenaline starting to taper off, you feel exhaustion seeping into your limbs, and part of you wonders if Andy knew you were reaching the end of your strength and stopped you before you would have lost steam on your own. Your stomach seethes.

Once on the main floor, you fall in step with him, not needing the staff to see anything that will make them talk. Some of them may be oblivious to why you’re here, but you know there are those who are aware at different levels that you aren’t here as the other half of a fairytale.

Your destination turns out to be the family dining room, not the formal one.

Dinner, of course.

He pulls your chair out for you, tucking it politely as you sit, and then takes his place across from you.

Sometimes you and Andy talk over dinner.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

If he’s going to be silent about today, say nothing more about your vandalism on arriving home, then you certainly are not going to stoke conversation. His eyes are on you frequently, but you ignore him.

Halfway through dinner and after taking a sip of wine, Andy finally says, “Your hair looks nice.”

You scoff. “As if you really noticed. Your men told you where we were.” You know it’s hardly changed.

Andy set his fork down. “Look at me,” he demands, tone serious, and so you comply. “They’re your men, and don’t make the mistake of thinking I will ever fail to notice a detail, especially when it comes to my wife.”

Your heart skips a beat - part fear, but part some flare in your heart that you hate reacting to his words. You raise your chin in defiance. “I’m not your wife.”

“Yet.”

Threat and promise.

As if the exquisite engagement ring whose heavy weight you were growing so used to weren’t a constant reminder.

Rather than think further on that, for the rest of the meal you consider his correction that Shep and Mark are your men when you’d said they were his. It was an interesting distinction, and you would put feelers out to ask about it later - not Andy, but maybe with the men.

When dinner is over, Andy stands and reaches for your hand. He always does. It’s unsettling because if only you had ever had a choice, the gesture would be endearing. A few nights over this month that you’ve been his, he kissed the back of your hand and left to attend to business. Some nights, he wanted to watch something with you before bedtime, or go on a drive like last night. Most often he takes you to the bedroom.

It’s the latter tonight.

You walk silently to the master suite together. Every muscle in your body is taught with tension, with the simmering rage and hurt of the day seething through your veins.

Andy closes the door and turns to face you.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re so upset before or after your punishment?”

“My - what?!” You glower and put your hands on your hips. “Why am I being punished? You let me smash two more cars before you even stopped me.”

“It’s not about the cars, it’s your refusal to talk to me about something that clearly has you worked up.”

“Worked up?” Your eyes widen and then narrow. “I’m not worked up, Andy, I’m infuriated.”

“Then tell me what crime I’ve committed.”

You scoff and turn away.

He catches you before you’ve taken two steps, gripping your upper arm. He hauls you toward the bed, takes a seat on the end of the mattress, and then lays you down over his lap. He takes both your wrists in his left hand and holds them firmly while his right hand pulls your pants down.

All of it happens so swiftly that you can’t even fight him, but you cry out when the first, harsh slap hits your bare ass. The sting is sharp and shocking. The second comes quickly after. You try to shake out of his hold, but he growls your name, tightens his grip, and the third slap comes even harder.

Four. Five. He kneads the flesh of your ass between some of the smacks. Eight. Fifteen. Twenty. Somewhere in the middle, the smacks morph into a swirl of simultaneous pain and numbness – a mirror of how you feel. You’re sobbing once he finally stops, body sagging in defeat over his lap. He lifts you carefully and lays you stomach down on the bed. You fold your arms and hide your face into the frame of them to cry and settle into softer cries, and Andy lets you have the moment of privacy.

It’s not long before you register Andy’s return though, his weight sinking onto the bed next to you. Then his hand is on your tender backside, applying a cold cream to your skin, and the relief makes you let out a shuddering sigh. He works it over you slowly, gently, methodically. By the time Andy’s finished, so are your tears. You’re still full of emotions, but they’re a swirling, complicated mess. You feel like the frustration has been spanked out of you, but you’re still hurt and angry, but now you’re also confused by this tender act. This only extends when he urges you to roll over, and sit up, and he kisses your forehead. You look up at him dolefully, he wipes away the remaining tracks of your tears. He’s shed his clothes from the day and is now bare-chested and in a pair of navy silk pajama bottoms. He proceeds to gently help you take off your shirt, your bra, and then slips you into a silk robe he’s brought from the closet.

Then Andy stands, scoops you up into his arms, and heads to the balcony of your master suite. He settles down onto the loveseat and arranges you in his lap so you’re sitting sideways over him, and he wraps his arm around you. It’s more of the confusing closeness, physical intimacy that you crave but can’t give into with him. It’s the first time you’ve been out here, and it affords a beautiful view of the darkening sky. Yet another thing you would have yearned for but don’t want like this.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” you say honestly.

He puts his hand under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

“But will you hear me?” You ask and turn your head away and out of his hand.

He smoothes his thumb over your jaw but - to your surprise - doesn’t force you to look at him as he had before. Instead he lets his hand drop and brings it around your waist so he’s got both arms banded around you again.

“You’ve taken so much from me, Andy. You’ve made it abundantly clear that I have no way out of this, but it’s been mounting and it came to a peak today. I had a day to myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to spend it with my friends or my parents because I can’t tell them about us! I haven’t spoken or texted any of them on more than a surface level since this all began. And I haven’t gone back to work yet, but I want to work, I need to work, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell them either!”

He is quiet for a moment. And then, “I knew you hadn’t told anyone, but why do you think you can’t tell them about us?”

“What am I supposed to say?” You scoff. “I can’t tell them that you threatened me with blackmail and forced me into our engagement!”

“No,” he agrees, “You can’t tell them that.”

“So, what am I supposed to tell them?”

“That you fell for my charms, that I surprised you when I declared my intentions and by how serious I was, that I made it almost impossible for you to refuse me. It’s enough of the truth.”

You frown and scrutinize his face. “Enough of the truth,” you repeat, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “Is that how you always live your life?”

 He lifts his chin, a flash of hardness in his eyes. “I’ve done what I needed to.”

“You didn’t need to go behind my back to meet my parents!” You blurt, the hurt in your voice bleeding out despite trying to keep it in, to keep it away from him, not wanting to share something so personal.

“I want to have a good relationship with my in-laws. My mother’s dead and my father was sentenced to life in prison when I was a kid.”

“But they’re my parents,” you stress. “I should have been able to be the ones to tell them about getting married. You stole that from me.”

Andy studies your face quietly.

You drop your gaze. You won’t tell him why stealing this moment – more than anything else he’s done – was your breaking point. You doubt he would care or understand, but he also doesn’t get to know something so personal. He hasn’t earned that right.

“You love them,” he finally says.

You nod. “We’re very close.”

He falls silent again.

Finally, you give an exhausted sigh. “Why did you have to do this to us?”

“I wanted you.”

“I wanted you, too. You should have let us fall into it.”

“Fall now.”

“I can’t,” you protest, and you look up to argue further, but he’s faster, cutting you off with a kiss.

His lips are demanding, and the heat he pours into the kiss seeps into the cracks he’s been chipping away inside you, and your traitorous body leans into the moment. You’re exhausted physically and emotionally.

You don’t know how you can ever let yourself fall for him.

But as his hands soothe up and down your back, you wonder if you have to deny yourself everything for the rest of your life?

What if you fell into him for one night? Allowed yourself to let go, to forget for just a few hours? You are so tired. And your body aches. And after so much hurt, betrayal, and anger running high through your veins for so many hours now, after the shock and release from being put over his knee, maybe you just want to forget and get lost in pleasure.

Pleasure you know he was far too capable of giving.

Not only capable of giving, but master of overwhelming you with it.

After he’s stolen so much from you these last weeks, maybe you want and need to steal a night of ecstasy without any thoughts.

You shift on his lap, his arms still around you, until you’re straddling his lap. You leverage his broad shoulders to push yourself up on your knees, and you look down at him. You can’t read everything in his dark blue stormy eyes yet, but you can interpret some of what’s there. He’s intrigued and you can see the spark of hunger flaring, but there’s something else you can’t quite read.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

He doesn’t pull you in closer, but his arms hold you steady in your kneeling stance. You reach for the tie of your silk robe, and you slowly pull it loose.

“Tonight is not for you,” your voice is low, quiet, but not soft, “it’s for me.”

His eyes narrow a fraction, but as you shrug the silky garment off your shoulders, he helps let the robe fall free to the ground.

Andy’s eyes rake over your naked form, drinking in every curve and dip of your body. His hands glide up your sides, rough palms contrasting with the softness of your flesh. You shiver despite the warmth of the evening air.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscles there. Your fingers trace the lines down to his abdomen, following the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath his waistband. You can feel the evidence of his arousal, and he groans, gripping your hips tightly, and you squeeze his length - big as the rest of him - the cock that has ruined you.

He leans in and his lips burn a trail down your neck, over your chest and find one of your breasts, nipping on the swell before licking at your aereola and taking it into his mouth. Your fingers rake into his hair, and he sucks insistently until your nipple is almost painfully hard. He releases it with a pop, then moves to give equal treatment to your other breast. You press your needy cunt down against his groin, keening for him.

You grind against him, and he can’t help but groan. In one fluid motion, he stands, lifting you with him. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist instinctively as he carries you back into the bedroom. He lays you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. He takes less than a second to push his pajama bottoms down and off before he joins you on the bed, his body covering yours.

His weight presses you into the mattress. You feel every inch of his hard body against yours, and you arch up, desperate for more contact. Andy's hand slides between your bodies, finding your slick folds. He groans when he feels how wet you are for him.

"Always so ready for me," he murmurs against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

You whimper as his fingers tease your entrance, circling but not entering. You buck your hips, trying to force him inside, but he pulls back with a dark chuckle.

"Patience, sweetheart," he admonishes.

But patience isn't what you want tonight. You want to lose yourself in sensation, to forget everything but the pleasure he can give you. You reach down and grasp his thick length, guiding him to your entrance.

He forces your hand away with a tsk, and you glare at him, but he is grinning, moving down your body already. He kisses the sensitive spot on your lower stomach, the one he discovered that always makes you gasp and arch your back for him. His shoulders force your legs open to accommodate his frame as he plants himself between your thighs.

Andy's mouth descends on your core, his tongue laving your sensitive folds. You arch into him, a moan escaping your lips. His beard scratches deliciously against your inner thighs as he works you over with his skilled tongue. He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, building your pleasure steadily.

Your hands fist in his hair, holding him against you as you rock your hips. The coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter. Just as you're about to topple over the edge, Andy pulls back, denying you release.

“Andy, please,” you beg.

Andy's breath ghosts over your sensitive flesh, making you shiver and whine. He places a soft kiss on your inner thigh, then another, slowly working his way back towards your center. You squirm, desperate for more contact, but his strong hands hold your hips firmly in place.

He chuckles, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through you. "I thought this night was for you," he teases, his beard scraping deliciously against your thigh. "Let me take care of you."

Before you can protest, his tongue laves a long, slow stroke up your slit. You cry out, your back arching off the bed. He repeats the motion, this time circling your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Your hands fist in the sheets as Andy's talented mouth works you over. He alternates between long, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, never letting you settle into a rhythm. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides two thick fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that he knows makes you see stars.

"Oh god, Andy!" you cry out, your hips bucking against his face.

He hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His fingers pump in and out, matching the pace of his tongue on your clit. The dual sensations are overwhelming, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy murmurs against your flesh. "Let go for me."

His words are your undoing. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, your body arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelms you. But he’s anything but finished.

Andy doesn't let up, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm and pushing you towards another peak. Your body trembles, oversensitive but craving more. You tug at his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

"Too much," you gasp, but he ignores your weak protest.

He adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously as he continues to lap at your swollen clit. The intensity builds rapidly, and before you can catch your breath, you're tumbling over the edge again. This time, Andy pulls away, allowing you a moment to recover.

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to nip roughly at your collarbone. When he reaches your mouth, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, your hands roaming over his broad back.

Andy positions himself between your thighs. You reach between your bodies and guide him to your entrance. You need him inside of you. He pushes in slowly, stretching you deliciously, filling you completely. You both groan as he slides in to the hilt, and you throw your head back. He stills there, kisses along your jaw, then gives a soft rock of his hips, rutting against you, but not thrusting.

“Move,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to urge him on.

Andy leans down and claims your lips again, demanding the intimate kiss as his price, his tongue licking into your mouth to tangle with yours. He then sets a steady rhythm that has you moaning with each thrust. You buck your hips to draw him in with each stroke. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans of pleasure.

You drag your nails down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. He hisses, then retaliates by biting down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure makes you cry out.

"Harder," you demand, needing more, needing to lose yourself completely.

Andy growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, the force of his thrust pushing you up the bed. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders. He sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his movements. Your walls clench around him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "Take what you need from me."

You're climbing higher and higher, chasing that blissful peak. Andy snakes a hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He rubs tight circles over the sensitive bud, and it's too much.

You shatter, screaming his name as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body convulses, clenching rhythmically around him. Andy fucks you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you're a trembling mess beneath him as he chases his own release.

It takes a few more strokes, and then he’s spilling his hot seed inside of you, groaning against your neck. He collapses his weight onto you for a few moments, catching his breath. Your hands roam over his back. If you had been given the chance to choose him, to choose this life, wrapped in his arms right now you would have felt blissfully content, and so since tonight was a pass on reality, you let a satisfied sigh fall from your lips.

Andy’s lips find yours again, and you kiss until you feel floaty and boneless beneath him, head empty of all thoughts.

When the fervency of the kisses finally slows into a languid calm, Andy finally rolls off of you. He reaches for the switch to turn off the soft lights that had been on, then settles on his side, facing you. He traces lazy patterns over your form with his fingers, and you close your eyes and simply feel.

You didn’t know you had fallen into sleep except that the motion of Andy pulling you into his chest so he can spoon up behind you pulls you back into consciousness. He chuckles softly at your little mewl, and then pulls you a little closer to his warm chest and plants a kiss on your neck, just below your ear. You settle against him without complaint.

You’re exhausted, and you don’t know where he finds the resilience, but his hand snakes down to cup your cunt again, and you hum as he begins to work your clit. You have no strength left in you, but if you don’t have to work for it and Andy’s going to give it to you, you’ve learned under his hand that he always knows how to coax out one more climax from you when you think you’re already spent.

Your breath speeds up again, and you can feel the promise of pleasure pulling at your muscles, tightening them for one final release.

As he works you quickly up to that point, he speaks directly into your ear. “You said tonight was for you, not for me. It’s the lie you needed to tell yourself to let go, and that’s fine, but know that your pleasure is always pleasure for me.”

And so unfairly, your body comes for him right then, exactly as he wants you to, and you cry out before going even more limp in his arms. He presses another kiss on your neck, and you can feel his satisfied smile against your skin. You desperately wish you could break out of his arms and roll away from him, but you do not have even an ounce of strength left, and so you simply let the exhaustion overtake you and escape from him in sleep.

You’re vaguely aware of how close Andy keeps you all night. Since he typically does, it’s a surprise when you wake to an empty bed. There is only a vague suggestion of sunlight beginning to come in the windows, so you know it’s still incredibly early. The sheet is down around your waist, and you splay your arm out to where Andy should have been. The bed isn’t cold, but there’s only a hint of warmth, so you know he’s been up for a while.

As if unnervingly on cue, Andy comes in from the ensuite bathroom and hums at seeing you awake. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

He strides right up to the edge of the bed, leans down, and plants a kiss on your cheek, then rubs his hand softly over your jaw.

“Morning,” you respond.

You hate how lovely this scene should be. Your heart wants it, but your brain reminds you not to accept this contrived intimacy he pretends is real and normal.

He crosses the room and retrieves his phone, starts to put on his watch, the finishing touches before he embarks on his day.

“You can sleep in,” he says softly.

“Why are you up so early? It’s Sunday.”

“Early tee time at the country club,” he answers.

You make a vague sound of acknowledgement and pull the sheet and duvet back up to burrow in for a lazy morning of more sleep and maybe some reading.

“Enjoy lunch with your mom, by the way,” he says at the door. “I’m teeing off with your father, so I’ll persuade him to have lunch with me to give you two time as just mother and daughter.”

You suck in a sharp breath and he departs, dropping this revelation, and leaving you to seethe at his making yet another bold move, seeping steadily further into the foundations of your life.

SO

YEAH

Still with me here?

Even though I figured out the plot point for this chapter a while back, when I wrote it, I had to take a break a few times because I was upset over how some things were playing out.

I was also surprised by some of the development with her security detail of Mark and Shep. I randomly made them up really quickly during Prepare for Takeoff, but then here I learned they were going to end up being even more important than I thought (including something key for two specific future plot points).

next part: Burned Off the Haze

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[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006

“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”

Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.

“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”

He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.

But he made a mistake.

The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.

Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.

No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.

But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and

“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.

That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.

His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.

He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.

Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.

Oh God, he was going to blow.

Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.

Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.

First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006

Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.

He had to know more.

Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.

All the better for him to keep observing you.

As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.

He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.

But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.

He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.

He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.

“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.

You were American. How adorable.

“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”

You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.

Must have been Farleigh’s idea.

Anyway, back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.

Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.

Except that he was.

He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.

Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.

It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.

My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋

Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.

By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.

“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”

“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”

Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”

Felix just shrugged.

“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”

Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.

“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”

“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”

“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”

Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.

Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.

Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.

Manchester, December 2006

You were having the time of your life.

Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”

But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.

Oxford Dining Hall December 2006

You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.

“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.

Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.

“What?” you croaked out.

“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”

“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”

“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”

You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.

You hated feeling small.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”

He rolled his eyes at your concern.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”

You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.  

His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.

When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.

“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”

“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”

Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.

“Look, are you coming or not?”

You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.

“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”

A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”

“Don’t push it.”

You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.

His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.

“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”

When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.

“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”

“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”

“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”

“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”

Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.

“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”

You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”

“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.

“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”

Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”

“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”

“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”

“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”

Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.

“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”

“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”

You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.

“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”

“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”

Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.

“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”

“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.

Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.

The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.

You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.

When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.

You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.

But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.

Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.

At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.

Well – everyone except one.

Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.

Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.

Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.

“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”

You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.

“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006

In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.

He had to get out of here.

In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by commenting!

[pommpuriinn]

hii!!! I love your Athena oc!! I wish that there was more so im going to send in an ask! I would love to ask for moments at fan signs with en-!! maybe like Athena getting a marriage proposal and the boys being protective and saying no, the gifts and interactions she gets, or/and moments with en- at the fan sign! ty ILYSM!!!

꒰ᥩ ྀི ´ ˆก ꒱ ATHENA FANSIGNS

synopsis- exactly what the ask is

A/N- I’m finally actually back y’all🎉 I got a new job had 2 weeks to get better bc I also got sick while I was in my breaking point and after the 2 weeks I started my new job which I like. July was a ROUGH month for me, but I’m glad to be back to writing. Thank you to this person requesting 🫶🏼

𖤐 after the successful release of ‘xo’ it was time for fansignings which Athena was really excited about seeing engenes again and getting to know new engenes, along with catching up with previous engenes

𖤐 engenes were excited to talk to a flirty Athena including seeing her new hair for the era up and close, and they didn’t hold back on all the gifts they prepared for her

𖤐 “unnie is so happy to see you!” Engene couldn’t help but cover her big smile with her hand seeing her cat like eyes. “Mm, me too~” Athena gave a playful pout with her head cocked to the side while sliding her hand over to interlock their hands together. That action definitely caught the poor engene by surprise, making them flushed

𖤐 “I see that Athena-ah is having fun teasing her members this new comeback.” Athena had been way too playful with the members that even the staff are a bit curious with their relationship. “I am,” Athena chuckles. “They’re like my toys.” Athena gently pats Jungwon’s head who was sitting next to her with a jokingly scowl on his face

𖤐 “I’m happy that you colored your hair after a while.” Athena was really happy with all the reaction she got with her white highlights after not dyeing it since the dark blood era. “I’m relieved that engenes like it. Since you guys loved my dark red hair I had for ‘bite me’.”

𖤐 even though Athena is happy to see k-engenes she truly loves seeing international engenes since they might not have as many chances as k-engene to see the group. “I flew from France to see the comeback promotions.” Athena gasped hearing that this engene came from her birth place. “You’re from France?! I’m so glad you were able to come. I’ll definitely try to spot you wherever I can.” Athena held her hands tight while expressing her gratitude towards the engene

𖤐 many engene gave Athena many cat accessories making her laugh with how much engenes associate Athena with a cat. Some gave Athena different crowns since she’s the princess of Enhypen. Athena’s favorite of getting gifted the ratatouille headband where he hold to pieces of your hair

𖤐 is was getting to the end of the actually signing part of the event and since Athena was the last member to sign the rest finally got up and stretch around waiting for Athena to be done. The last fan was a male engene which the members didn’t really sense anything weird about the guy until Heeseung notice the guy gifting Athena a wedding veil. It’s like if one member sense something it sends signal waves to the other members because they all turn their heads in unison.

“Oh, for me?” Athena nervously laughed. “Yes for you. I wanted to propose to you before I’m about to serve my military duty.” The fanboy started to sweat a bit. “I-”

“She can’t.” Sunghoon leaned on the table. “She’s too young.” Jay stood by Athena’s left side also leaning on the table. “Noona is too precious for us to let go yet.” Sunoo came from behind Athena while wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “But have a good military service.” Niki smiled while he closed the album for Athena and handed it over to the poor guy, who was in shocked with how they all came around Athena. “O-oh…thanks.” He slowly stood up from the chair. “Thanks for the gift and have a healthy and safe duty.” Athena did a little salute at her fanboy

𖤐 “You’re ours.” Jake mumbled, while taking the veil off of Athena and placed a cute set of cat ears making Athena laugh at their protective side

𖤐 Athena is quite nosey when it comes to gifts that engenes gift to the other members, so you will always catch her looking into the other members’ boxes to see what she can find

𖤐 a favorite activity that engenes and Athena enjoy is when she plays dress up with her members. She would grab different items and get her victim (mostly Heeseung) and start dressing him up.

𖤐 always has to get Jungwon and Jay to wear cat ears with her so they pose for pictures, and if one tries to get out of it Athena would point a toy gun to their heads making the group burst out laughing at Athena threatening them. “You guys need to stop gifting her toy guns. It gets to her head!” Jay yelled

𖤐 mischievous Athena starts to annoy Niki on purpose like getting in the way when he’s poses acting like she didn’t know, or slapping the plushie his has out of his hand. Ends with her in a headlock while Niki is ruffling up her hair, so when she finally gets out of his headlock her hair is all messed up and puffy

𖤐 Sunghoon to the rescue with fixing whatever Niki has messed up. After he’s done Athena looks up and tries to kiss him making him panic and engenes scream. Engene sees it as Athena would never actually do it, but Sunghoon knows she would if only he didn’t back away

𖤐 with causing chaos to the other members she is an angel to her one and only Sunoo. They both act like models giving iconic poses, using gifts as props and going as far as Athena fully laying on the table giving their best poses for free

𖤐 the boys sometimes get jealous at their fansites taking photos of the other members, but when it comes to Athena they will literally offer to take the photos for them since they can get close to Athena and not them

𖤐 fansigns are mostly lets spoil and takes pictures of our princess Athena and protect her at all costs



[highvern]

Teach Me II

or private tutoring

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: inexperience!dk, experienced!reader, mentions of previous drug use (weed) , oral (m. & f. receiving), cum swallowing, spitting, fingering, making out, strength kink bc he's hot, minor overstim at the end but he's just enthusiastic, fwb, this chapter is pure smut, spreading my DK is a munch agenda

Length: ~3.5k

Note: literally a doozy to write but its done, I have part 3-5 outlined so hopefully they go quicker, lemme know what yall think!

read more here

Tuesday Night Approx. 10:02 PM, DK’s bedroom

Dokyeom has come to the conclusion he’s hallucinating. The hot wet suckle of your mouth against the head of his cock, one hand jerking him in time with the motions of your head while the other gently cups his balls is just too good to be true. The view he’s witnessing is even more proof he’s gone certifiably insane. 

You’re knelt between his spread legs at the edge of the bed, shoulders framed by his knees. At some point Dokyeom fell back on his elbows, granting you as much room as possible to do whatever you want as he stares down his body at you. The rhythmic bobbing of your head hypnotizes him, forcing him to fight demons against the urge to wrap a hand in your hair so he has a better view of your mouth working his cock. He thanks himself for having the foresight to at least ask you to take your top off this time, allowing him the pleasure to view the long muscles along your spine flexing, only obstructed by the band of your bra.

You’re the goddess of his dick and Dokyeom is an avid worshiper.

The first and only time he received head involved too much weed (both of them), teeth (hers), and tears (his) for him to enjoy any of it. It had been so unpleasurable he had avoided doing anything since in fear of repeating the experience. 

You, however, make him regret not finding you on campus sooner. The genuine enthusiasm and enjoyment that radiates off you as you play with him has an orgasm tumbling towards him faster than he wants. When Dokyeom tries to inform you, hoping you’ll find a way to help him hold off, gasping your name and a broken “I’m gonna;” you respond with a delighted hum and work him harder.

“Holy shiii—,” he whines as you give a particularly harsh suck as he slides further in your mouth, tip nudging the back of your throat softly. A moan of your own shooting pleasurable snaps down his wrecked nerves.

He’s done for when your eyes peek open and find his.

Every muscle in his body clenches, his hips bucking up into your mouth despite his effort to remain grounded. Ears filled with the sound of his blood rushing, eyes squeezed tight. He knows he’s blabbering whatever praises have sat on the tip of his tongue since you started between deep desperate groans, but Dokyeom can’t hear a single thing. All he can focus on is how his cum shoots into your waiting mouth as you continue pumping him till his balls are empty.

You swallow his load with ease, popping off his dick to allow your tongue to dart and catch the dribble at the corner of your lips. If that’s how good it's gonna be everytime, Dokyeom is afraid he might fall in love with you from a simple blowjob.

“Good?” You ask with a cheeriness that seems a little out of place given that you’ve sucked his soul out.

Dokyeom’s brain function borders non-existent so he just grunts an affirmation from where he’s crashed on the sheets of his bed, tossing an arm over his eyes as he comes back to earth.

Your giggling has him cracking open his eyes lazily to find you resting your chin on his muscular thigh, smile wide, dangerously close to his softened cock.

“Are you the dick whisperer or?” 

More giggles answer him. You think it's cute how clearly spent he is, not bothering to hide how you affect him, no bullshit bravado some other guys try to pull. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” You coo.

“Well that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

“My only competition is a girl from two years ago, but I’ll take it.”

You hop up next to him on the bed, lying parallel to his body as a comfortable silence settles between you. His eyes follow the steady rise and fall of your chest, gaze locked on how your boobs push against the thin fabric of your bra. Dokyeom just makes out the edges on what must be your stiff nipples poking through the cup. It makes him salivate.

“Can I try?” 

“Try what?” You ask, turning your head to look at his face.

Dokyeom rolls over, propping himself up on an elbow to loom over you. His nose traces your jaw, unable to keep his hand from moving across the plane of your belly, thumb burning against bare skin as it dips below the elastic waistband of your leggings.

“Wanna eat you out.” 

The gentle kiss he places under your ear is answered with stuttering breath and a subtle nod.

“Should I,” he swallows thickly. “How should I start?”

“Kissing is good.”

His lips leave a trail of gentle pecks across your cheek to your mouth. When your mouths meet, twin sighs leave your noses. You weren’t lying to him when you told him he was a good kisser. 

The hand that was tracing the hollow of your hip moves up to your jaw, caressing your cheek and allowing Dokyeom to move your head where he wants it. He tilts your chin up, dragging the tip of his tongue against your plush lower lip. Your mouth opens slightly, allowing wet muscles to meet tentatively. 

The vibration of your moan against his lips has his head dipping away.

“Good?”

You mutter a breathless “yes” into his mouth, missing his touch immediately. Your hands plant on the sides of his face, dragging him back in.

You both continue lazily, content in the way your lips meet and hands memorize the other's features. But Dokyeom longs to learn the ins and outs of your body, hoping he can make you feel at least a fraction of the pleasure you've gifted him twice now.

When he tries to disconnect your lips this time, you chase him. Pulling him back in with a maddening drag of teeth, followed by the dull sting of your nails against his shoulder. Your free hand moves his from your jaw down to your chest, giving him an encouraging squeeze to start playing with you.

Hesitating, his large palm gently fondles your breast, thumbing the edge of the lacy fabric hiding you from view. He isn’t doing much other than letting the weight of it settle in his hand. When you break away your gaze to watch his reaction, Dokyeom’s face is set in determination.

“You can do more.”

At your permission he gives a gentle squeeze, it’s sweet but not what you need. 

“Like this.”

Gently brushing him away, you flip the cup of your bra down to expose yourself to the chill of the air. Dokyeom eyes follow with rapt attention, hypnotized by the swell of your chest and the contrasting skin. He stares as you grab his hand again, moving it back to cup your breast. From the gaps between his fingers, ribbons of your flesh are still visible. When the calloused side of his thumb rolls across your nipple this time, you shudder.

“If you want,” you gasp, “you can use your mouth.”

That was all he needed to dive for your chest. Immediately opening his mouth to cover your areola, sucking with too much enthusiasm.

“Wait!” You wince, shoulders caving inward at the zap of discomfort.

Dokyeom jumps back like he’s burnt, terrified expression blooming on his features. 

“It’s okay! But you need to build up to it, ya know?”

“Like how?” 

“Kiss my neck, keep using your hands. But make me want it first and it’ll feel a lot better.”

“Make you…want it? But can’t I just give it to you?”

“Think of it like…” you rack your brain, but when the flex of his biceps catch your eye you continue. “when you workout! You need to warm up first or you’ll get hurt, right?”

“Yeah?” he questions, still unsure.

“So you gotta warm me up first. Just start gently and then… you can get a little rougher.”

“Okay, okay.” He mutters to himself. “Gentle then rough, make you want it. Got it.”

He moves his face back to your chest, rubbing his lips across the smooth skin at the hollow of your throat. Letting his tongue dip out, Dokyeom etches a scorching path along the dips and curves of your chest. He tentatively covers your bare breast with his hand again, squeezing gently while his thumb catches your sensitive nub.

“Much better,” you sigh dreamily, entranced by the featherlight touches he’s teasing along your skin.

“Can I take your bra off?” 

His question is barely intelligible since he mutters it into your skin, around his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Without a word, you arch up and move your hands behind your back. One day he’ll insist you teach him to take it off himself but right now he zeros in on the way you’re pushing into his mouth as the fabric falls limp around your chest, exposing more soft skin for him to explore. You shuck the offending garment off your body, and toss it over the side of his bed. 

Completely bare from the waist up under him, Dokyeom props himself up to catalog the masterpiece that is you. Hair spread across his sheets beneath you, a few rogue tendrils twist below your chin and tickle your neck. Eyes hooded lowly, pupils blown wide. There's a faint blush spreading across your cheeks and down your front, making your skin glow mesmerizingly; and your lips, bruised and swollen, are parted around your shallow pants. 

Yeah, he can definitely get used to seeing you like this.

“What?”

“You’re just… wow.”

“Wow?”

“You’re half naked in my bed after destroying my dick, please be nice to me.”

You respond with a shy smile as you drag him back in. He leaves more kisses across your face and down your chin before getting back to work.

Experimenting, Dokyeom finds your tit. His teeth graze against the puckered bud sucked into his mouth, nipping it gently before laving his tongue across the sore flesh soothingly. He’s rewarded with an agonizing grind of your hips against his thigh, savoring the scalding heat of your pussy through the thin fabric separating you. 

“Again.” You tell him.

So he does.

He memorizes every dreamy sigh, satisfied moan, and sobbed hiccup released from your mouth. He also memorizes exactly what he does to deserve them. You like when he darts the tip of his tongue out to guide himself from one area to the next. Huffing when he blows a cool stream of air on the wet trail, giving rise to a litter of goosebumps. If he scratches his teeth on the more sensitive skin of your nipples or underside of your breast, you’ll hiss a sharp breath and twist your fist in the sheets beside you, back arching for more. If he plays with both of your nipples simultaneously, engulfing one between his lips and lapping with his tongue while his hand pinches and pulls the other, you’ll tremble in his hold and cry his name hoarsely.

He really likes that one. 

“Good?”

You’d think he was teasing if it wasn’t for the trickle of insecurity that seeps into his voice. 

“Great,” you praise, eyes shut against the pleasure you’re receiving. “You should take my pants off.”

“Really?”

“Want you to see how wet you made me.”

He chokes on his own saliva, coughing against you.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes are watering and his face is red as he catches his breath. 

“Oh my god!” Your eyes go wide with worry.

When he finally calms himself, he pins you with a stern look.

“You can’t just,” he huffs. “say stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you’re making me horny?”

“Exactly like that! God, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“So you don’t wanna hear how much I want you to fuck me?” You whisper in his ear, lips dragging against the sensitive shell of his ear.

“No,” he swallows, your words decimating his brain and all common sense. “I do, I just, fuck.”

The last word he groans in response to you stuffing his hand between your spread thighs. The crotch of your leggings are soaked, clinging to the lips of your pussy thanks to your previous movement against his leg.

“Can you feel it?” You pant in his ear. “How wet I am for you?” 

The dirty words strike a cord. He did this; his kisses and caresses teased so much of your arousal of you that it’s leaking through your panties, past your leggings to soak his fingers.

Eyes drifting shut to focus on the slick coating his palm, Dokyeom lets his hand dip lower to push against where he thinks your clit is. The pads of his finger ghosting a tight circle of the digit at the top of your mound. His chest threatens to burst with pride when your hips stutter into his palm.

“Please,” you whimper.

It breaks his heart to remove his hand but he aims to make up for it by stripping off your pants in a rush. Dokyeom nearly rips the material apart when it catches around your thighs but he uses his strength to lift your hips, pushing them down your legs and off you like he has a personal vendetta against them. Your underwear comes off as well, tossed over his shoulder next to your forgotten bra and shirt.

Dokyeom lies between your splayed legs, chest flat with the bed as his hands hook under your knees and push your legs up to spread you before him. Your inner thighs are glistening, smeared with your own arousal that leaks from your cunt, lips swollen and flushed, clit peeking out from under your mound. A wet spot darkens the fabric of his sheets below you, increasing in size as your entrance squeezes around nothing. His nose is full of your heady scent, mouth watering for a taste.

He dives in while his brain sings his new life motto: gentle then rough, make you want it. Gentle then rough, make you want it.

Using his knowledge of what worked well on your chest, he blows a cool breath against your hot center. Dokyeom watches as you mewl above him, head falling back as your spine arches. Barely there kisses tease the sensitive skin of your thigh next to his head, punctuated by sharp nips of teeth leaving bruises blooming bright red in their path.

Dropping his hands from your knees but leaving your legs on his shoulder, he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, granting him unobstructed access to your most sensitive parts. He feels like a pervert; a voyeur, staring in awe at the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. He knows he’s only seen one in real life (yours) but no one else’s will ever compare. 

Once Dokyeom has taken his fill, and you’re at your wits end above him, he uses the tip of his tongue to score a path from your dripping hole to your clit; moaning at the taste covering his tongue.

“More!” you whine from above, voice thick want.

“You said to make you want it.” He rasps, face still buried between your legs, mapping every ridge and dip.

“I do!”

“Let me play with it.” 

Dokyeom signs his requests with a firm lick to your clit against the flat of his tongue.

“Ahh!” You croak, convulsing from the sudden simulation. One hand flying to his hair to keep him in place.

Dokyeom is all too happy to continue, lapping indecently at your pussy. In his opinion, feeling your essence coat his chin and cheeks as he works you is almost as satisfying as having his cock in your mouth. Seeing you get off above him clicks why you were so enthusiastic when the roles were reversed. He could live and die eating your pussy without complaint.

The rush of pleasure has your thighs attempting to crush his skull. When he pulls your legs apart brutishly you arch again, turned on at the thought of him using his muscles to pin you down and leave you at his mercy. He folds you in half easily, hands pushing the back of your thighs up and out his way.

Since his hands are occupied with pinning your legs in place, one of you attempts to assist him. The hand not fisted in his hair shoots to your pussy, spreading your lips for him and directing him to your clit. Dokyeom doesn’t hesitate to tease your nub framed between your fingers. The occasional brush of his drenched lips or pointed tongue against your hand makes your head fuzzy.

Dokyeom feels you snatch one of his hands away from your leg, pulling it to your face. You suck two of his slender fingers into your mouth, moaning when they press down on your tongue causing you to drool around them. Dokyeom opens his eyes to gape at the vulgar display, hips twitching against the bed when your eyes meet his.

Holy shit.

He’s torn between wanting to stretch you open around the digits you're currently lapping at and letting you continue, imagining it's his cock between your lips. Fortunately for you he doesn’t ponder his choice for too long. Pulling his hand away, his eyes stay trained on yours as he reaches under his own chin to circle your hole. The mix of saliva and the juices of your pussy let him slide in easy enough, silky inner muscles eager to pull him deeper. 

“Spit on it,” you beg, eyes glassy.

He swallows harshly. If he was capable of any thought other than how sexy you are, he’d kick himself for how he let your first time together play out. Virginity be damned, he could have cum from this alone.

Dokyeom is more than willing to give you whatever you desire so he pulls away just enough to spit harshly on your clit, watching the bead race to where his fingers spread you, allowing it to disappear inside the rim of your entrance as he pumps his arm. He fumbles to reattach his mouth to your clit, lashing against the nerves as he stuffs you full; desperate to have you come on his face.

You're a moaning mess above him, hair matted to your sweaty forehead, hands threatening to rip the sheets apart as you fist them. 

“Give me another one,” you instruct, immediately granted your wish.

All you can do is gawk at Dokyeom below you as he brings you to your end with embarrassing speed. Every muscle in your body is pulled taunt, threatening to break any second as tears fill your vision. Your orgasm right there but just out of reach. But when you catch the way Dokyeom is humping against the bed, you snap. You don’t care that his roommate might still be home as you throw your head back with a sob, tears spilling down your face as endorphins blaze through your veins. Your mind is incinerated, vision filled fuzzy with fireworks. You can’t breathe as you gush into his mouth, thighs locked around his head and threatening to suffocate him.

To his credit, Dokyeom doesn’t stop despite the way you thrash below his mouth. If anything, his efforts increase, only encouraged by your shaky moans and shaker thighs. He snags both your ankles in one palm, stretching your legs up and over his head as far as can before pushing them back into your chest to twist you in a V. You get impossible tighter with the shift as he continues to stuff your clenching entrance while he licks your clit, a mess of spit and arousal pooling between your cheeks. You have to pull him away by his hair, interrupted several times by him diving back in to suck up your juices, fingers pushing more and more out of you to drip down his wrist. When you whine and tell him it's too much he finally relents with a gentle kiss and one last thrust before releasing your legs and resting his cheek on your thigh.

You both lay there in silence, panting against one another. Dokyeom kisses back up to your face, dropping sweet pecks to the tops of your thighs, across your hip bones to your belly button where he lets his nose trace up to your sternum and finally to your chin. When you open your eyes you find him staring at you sleepily.

“Hi,” he says, voice thick.

“Hi,” you smile.

He dips to press one last kiss to your lips before pulling you into his arms, pillowing your head on his bicep and brushing his other hand through your tangled hair. He ignores the way his sticky cock throbs against his leg, focusing on caring for you rather than himself.

“Good?” He mumbles against your forehead, lips resting on your hairline.

“I think you’re lying about never having done that before.”

“Scouts honor, you’re the first.”

“Honored. Glad our first tutoring session was so successful.”

First? He thinks. 

“There’ll be more?”

“Well, yeah,” you whisper, suddenly bashful in case he’s no longer interested.

“Sweeeeeet!” he whoops.

You roll your eyes at his boyish response but feel yourself smile anyway. If he can learn to fuck you as well as he eats you out then you’re in for a ride.

[ddiidi]

bf!Bangchan x gn!reader (felix mentioned)

Masterlist

When he calls you clingy, so you distance yourself

Previous Pt. 3

Pt. 4

Next Pt. 5 (last part)

!Warnings: angst, reader is confused about their feelings, Chan gets pushed away (no actual harm done!), fake!texts, swearing (lmk if i missed anything)

Side-Note: *does a happy twerk dance bc I actually came up w something even tho my brain is fried rn* No but rlly, I didn't even want to do a 5th part but I had to find a way on making it work between them and this part turned out to be too long☝🏽😞💔💔💔💔💔💔 now I'm heartbroken... ANYWAY ENJOY

It's been 2 days. 2 days and you already miss him. It's not that he doesn't deserve it, but you really just want to hug him right now.

You've spent the last 2 days, crying in your bed and not a single text message from chan. The other members did message you, but you only want one from him...you know you told him not to message you, but it's his fault in the first place.

You stood up and got out of bed. Maybe unboxing my stuff will get me on other ideas, you thought to yourself and made your way to the living room, taking your time unboxing and placing your items on the furniture you bought weeks before.

Everything went well and your mood brightened up till you got to one specific box. The box, filled with Polaroid pics from your date, loveletters and poetries written by chan for you and more. You just stare at them for a while, but then decide to close the box and take a nice warm bath, maybe then you'll relax for a bit and not think of him.

You went to your bathroom, and turned the bathtub water on, taking off your clothes next. You take some bathing salt and a bath bomb out of your cabinet, throw them in the half filled bathtub and step inside. You've nearly melted at the feeling of the hot, but not too hot water on you skin. Since you're together with chan, you've barely looked after yourself, you nearly forgot how good it felt to just spend you time and have no one else around and suddenly, it wasn't that bad that chan isn't around anymore. You actually felt, relived, so you just close your eyes and relax....

xxxxxx

You must have fallen asleep, because when you open your eyes, the water was cold. You've rubbed your eyes, washed yourself, wrapped your body in a bathrobe and left the bathroom. You yawn out and went straight to your room, when you hear your phone vibrate. Someone is blowing up your phone and in the back of your head, you wished that it's the person, it actually is. Chan.

You throw your phone on your bed and walk over to your wardrobe and bang your head against it. What. The. Actual. Fuck Y/l/n Y/n. Why would you possibly ask HIM, to come into your apartment after you told him you wanted space???

You grab some clothes out of your wardrobe, flinching as you turn around, as someone widely bangs open the door to your bedroom.

"Y/n?! Y/N!" chan screams, excited and runs over to you like an excited puppy, just to stop in his tracks as he remembers that you warned him not to touch you, so he stands still in front of you, with a giant smile on his face.

"Get out of my room. Can't you see i'm changing right now?" you coldly reply to him, fighting your inner demons to not jump right in his arms and hug him. His smile drops and he just blinks at you confused, which nearly breaks your heart. How is it possible that he was so mean to you, but is also so freaking cute which makes it so hard to hate him? "I-I don't understand.. why do I have to go out, it never was a problem to you-" "Do you want me to kick you out of the apartment instead?" you ask, as you walk over to your bed.

"NO, no i'll leave.." Chan lowly responds, walking out of the room. You weren't going to risk him calling you clingy again, for changing while he's in the same room, not happening.

xxxxx

After you've changed into something comfortable, you've asked him to come back inside and sit next to you on your bed, with a good amount of space, which Chan stared at with a questioning look, but didn't comment it any further.

"So? Why are you here?" you started asking, "I mean, why did you come to my apartment. If you came to just apologize, you can go again, because what you said needs more than an apology. Just because you'll feel better after apologising doesn't mean-" "-Doesn't mean that it's actually okay, I know baby.." Chan interrupts you, as he stared down at your arms "Can I...hug you?" "Excuse me?" you ask confused. Since when does he ask if he can hug you..? "I mean, sure I guess" you just say and with that Chan grabs you by you waist with one hand, putting his other hand, securingly on your neck, hugging you. You were about to hug him back, but stop midway.

Why did you just stop? Isn't that what you wanted? He's here now so why don't you hug him? Could it be that you're...scared? Scared that he might think you're actually clingy and annoying? Scared of that he'll push you away if you make a move? Or are you...

"You smell so good...i missed you so much..." chan's words pull you out of your thoughts, as you push him off. He looks at you, confused. Why did you suddenly push him off? "Wh-" "You should go." "Wha- But why.." "Please Chris just go." "Can I at least get a kiss-" "GEEZ CHRIS JUST GO!" you yell. You didn't intentionally yell at him, but you needed some time for yourself to collect your thoughts, and he's only in the way.

"Please...just go" you mumble out, and Chan stares at you for a while, before standing up from the bed. "I'll text you when I'm home" he casually says, with a hint of sadness in his voice. He mumbles out a quick and quiet >>I'm sorry, for everything<< out, and makes his way out of the apartment.

What was wrong with you? You've missed him so much so why would you not hug him back? Why would you ask him to go? And why...why didn't you kiss him?... You've loved to do it before....so why not now?..

What....was wrong with you?

Are you really...

As clingy as he said?

⁺˚*･༓☾✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧☽༓･*˚⁺

@stay-tiny-things @finnbbl @emilyywhyy @wolfs-howling @justastraymoa @loveyouamory @muraae @callmekdab @seungquokka @vive-la-v-i-d-a @sunghoonnolgy

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— ALL I WANNA DO

SUMMARY : aka. part 2 of jump on into the fire. in which she finally makes a decision about ben’s previous offer to start a family together.

PAIRING : soldier boy x supe!reader (f)

CHARACTERS : billy butcher, hughie campbell

WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, mutual masturbation, cum play, dacryphilia (Ben, *said scoldingly*), angst

WORD COUNT : 5.9k

A/N : title from splashh song. daydreaming is so fun, this is the birth of my imagination as i watched the boys. also, i chose the reader’s super name to be ‘guardian’ bc I play too much destiny 😔. edited this to be part two of jump on into the fire Xx

To say things were awkward and tense between her and Soldier Boy was an understatement. Even the rest of the team could feel the tension between them, but since Y/N tried to be as discreet as possible about their relationship, they chopped it up to her being upset at him. Especially after the events at Herogasm. 

She could have handled the situation better, but the implication that he liked her, as in enough to have kids with her, set alarms off in her head. He put her on the spot and she wasn’t ready for that for multiple reasons. 

For one, she didn’t always buy that pathetic, wide-eyed look he’d give them when he was talking about his mistakes, because he didn’t really feel all that bad about it. He’s a soldier, those were just collateral damage, casualties that occurred as he did his job, and so it doesn’t actually matter to him, and it probably never will. The problem wasn’t that he was evil, because he wasn’t, that was all Homelander. The problem was that Ben simply didn’t care. He’s a soldier meant to be ordered around, it didn't matter if he was right or wrong. 

 That night, just for a few seconds, she stopped seeing him that way. He said something sweet and instead of laughing it off or saying ‘shut up’, she actually liked the idea of being his, of starting a family. 

That realisation was terrifying. 

What would the rest of the team say? Even without MM, Annie, Frenchie, or Kimiko around, she could imagine their faces if they ever found out that she and Ben had a complicated relationship. Especially MM, and she empathised with him the most. She felt like she was betraying them, for what? A crush?

“You alright, Guardian?” Butcher asked, standing next to her. He was trying to analyse her, trying to get into her head and why she was now staring off past the glass door. She looked at him, eyes flashing up to his face and then to his posture, curiously tilting her head to the side at the sudden interest he had in her spaciness. 

“Yeah, why?” She asked, looking away from him to stare out the door again, the nice view from the Legend’s place. She knew he’d probably, finally, bring up the awkwardness between her and Ben, his sudden sour mood, and the way he hadn’t tried to make a move on her since that night. Or maybe Butcher was going to sweep it under the rug like he seemed to be doing these days, focusing mainly on the fact that both her and Ben were still getting the job done properly. At least she was. 

Ben seemed to have a lot of other stuff going on and what had happened at Herogasm made it clear that he wasn’t as okay or as in control  as he liked to pretend he was. She was there after all, when Ben had confessed to Hughie that he’d blacked out, with those wet, puppy-dog eyes, claiming to be a good guy. 

He was a bully, but more than anything, Ben was truly pathetic. He wanted to be the best, to stay at the top, to prove he was worth more than anyone else, and he hated it when anyone threatened that. It’s why he was on board with ending Homelander. It’s why he treated everyone around him like complete shit, especially if he felt they were trying to rise above him. 

“Soldier Boy don’t want you to come,” he said bluntly, gazing at her without much of a fuck about how she’ll react. She quickly turned to look at him, confused and irritated as soon as those words came out of his mouth. 

“What the fuck?” She glared at him, but mostly, she was pissed at Ben. Could he not tell her that himself? Then Butcher had the audacity to chuckle at her reaction and she narrowed his eyes. He only raised his hands with a smirk on his face when she shoved him for laughing. “Assholes!” She didn’t wait for him to say anything, just rolled her eyes and started to walk angrily to where Ben was now changing into his uniform. 

When she slammed the door open, the doorknob cracked a hole into the wall and she could hear the Legend shout asking what the noise was but she couldn’t give two fucks about answering. Ben turned around to look at her, his face was serious at first when he zipped up the front of his suit, but then he froze when he saw her fuming.

“Why the fuck are you benching me?” She heard some shuffling by the door and she glared at Hughie and Butcher who were being nosy, only catching Hughie scrambling away and pulling Butcher with him. 

“I’m not benching you,” Ben started, turning away from her unnecessarily to cover his chest with the heavy armour piece. “I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

“I’ve been doing this alone for years. I don’t need you to protect me.” She narrowed her eyes at his back, staring at him as he practically ignored her. This was probably the longest conversation they’ve both had since that night, but the room was still thick with awkward and even sexual tension that set her skin on fire. “I’m going, fuck you if you don’t like it,” she said firmly after a few minutes of silence. 

“The fuck you are,” he replied angrily, finally turning around to face her. 

She hated herself, the way her body was already reacting to his hard stare. With his stupid green eyes practically boring into her, trying to force her to listen to him rather than get in the way of his focus. Because he knew he’d be too busy worrying about her getting mind-fucked to actually focus on anything. He could get Butcher and Hughie killed, but actually he didn’t give a shit about them, he could get her killed. 

He couldn’t tell her that. If he did, she’d push him further away than she already had. To think he fucked up the one good thing he saw coming out of this shit mission, the one good thing in his entire miserable and disappointing life. He wanted her so bad and he wished he could take back what he said so things weren’t awkward between them. Because having her in any way that he could get her was better than this, but it was already out there. The implication of what he really wanted from her. 

He couldn’t force her to want it. He couldn’t force her to like him. Hell, he didn’t even like himself. He was a fucking disappointment, so why would she think he was more than that? He was a fool and she was better than him. She didn’t sign up to work for Vought, she didn’t wear some stupid fucking suit for a slut, or get paid for saving the lives of the people in her city. She doesn’t give a shit about fame. She’s just her. 

Y/N L/N, with a normal, boring job, and a secret life living up to the name her city gave her, the Guardian. 

“Give me one good reason why it’s too dangerous for me to go.” She crossed her arms over her chest and waited expectantly for him to give her something. She knew he’d have way too many things to list and that each one would mean nothing to her. So, all he did was glare at her, cursing softly under his breath knowing he wasn’t going to win this argument, but fuck if it didn’t make him like her more.

It hadn’t gone as bad as Ben had thought it would go. Y/N didn’t get injured or even have to fight at all. Whether he’d liked it or not, he has Hughie to thank for that. There was no struggle or any big fight that broke out when they found Mindstorm with Hughie and Butcher, who was now awake. 

Dan was distracted with Hughie and from a distance and at an angle, Ben threw his knife at Dan’s eye, preventing him from using his abilities on them. Y/N had been shocked, almost as much as Hughie when he’d bashed his head in with his shield, but the news he’d gotten from Mindstorm was something that left him feeling conflicted and angry, but most of all completely disappointed after calling Homelander. 

“Everything good?” He heard Y/N speak up from the doorway. He forced himself to smile at her, not because he didn’t want to see her and wanted her to go away, but because he didn’t want to show that anything was wrong. Nothing was wrong anyway, not necessarily, he just didn’t want to believe that Homelander was his son, but it all made sense. Homelander was as disappointing as Ben’s father thought he was. Basically, Homelander was not the son Ben would have liked to have had.

“Yeah,” he responded, eyeing her every move guardedly. She shut the door behind her and looked around the room at first, probably expecting him to have had some granny or a sexworker in the room. He rolled his eyes, but knew she had every reason to think that about him. When she saw no one, she walked closer to him and he straightened up a little since she clearly was here for more than just small talk.

She didn’t seem to be avoiding him anymore, but that didn’t make him feel any better. She practically rejected him that night and made him feel unwanted. He still remembers the sting he felt when she just brushed him off. Earlier, she’d been pissed at him for slapping Hughie, for abandoning Butcher, and for being insensitive about the nun and the priest he’d killed, and he knew probably other things he did made her angry, but she got over it quickly. Despite having seen him lose it on more than one occasion, she always seemed to see straight through him and he hated it. Like right now, she tilted her head to the side slightly and her eyes moved across his face, trying to and succeeding in easily getting a read on him. 

“Liar. You can’t hide that pathetically sad look on your face. You look like a kicked puppy,” she chuckled, looking away to trace random patterns on the surface of the table she leaned against. He narrowed his eyes at her and scoffed, looking away to stop her from doing that again, even though he missed hearing her and seeing her. “You’re not gonna tell me what Mindstorm said to you?” She bit her lip, watching his reaction to her question. 

“Stop doing that,” he warned, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully. He looked up at her again, really took her in because he missed her despite what she might think about him and despite the irritation she made him feel when she tried to get him to open up or talk about his feelings like he was some sissy. He couldn’t help his next actions, the expression on her face was so gentle and troubled that he found he’d somehow closed the distance between them and thoughtlessly pulled her into a kiss to ease all those things from her face. 

He expected her to hit him or push him away, hell, all of those things, but she just stood there for the fleeting moment in which he pressed his lips against hers. When he pulled away, just slightly, he tried to gauge her reaction and saw mostly confusion on her face. He licked his lips and gently held her face, frustrated and needy for her, but all he did was gently brush his thumbs across her warm and soft cheeks. 

“You don’t hate me,” he said quietly. It was the one thing he was sure of at this point. No one really treated him like he was a person. They were scared of him, for good reason, or they just needed his abilities. Not her. She wasn’t scared of him, not always, and she definitely wasn’t using him despite working with Butcher which she met through Maeve. 

His brows were furrowed, just watching her curiously as she gazed at his face, analysing every twitch in his face, every change in expression. Her mouth opened slightly to respond, but she mimicked his face, brows furrowing as she thought about why she just couldn’t hate him the way everyone else did or even why she wasn’t afraid of him. 

To be fair, she didn’t know anything about him except from what she’d seen of him getting tortured. Somehow, that meant more to her than all the people that died while he was doing his job. Somehow, her feelings for him seemed to sprout and bloom despite knowing how MM felt about him. She cared about the team, probably more than they cared about her, and that made Ben angry. They didn’t deserve her and neither did he.

She should have been afraid, she should hate him the way everyone else does, especially with knowing he’s killed dozens of innocent people, with his temper that would drive him to be unnecessarily violent, the toxic masculinity that exuded from him. He was everything she’d hate in a person, but for some unknown reason, she didn’t hate him. She wanted to help him get better and to be there for him every step of the way. As foolish as it sounded, she felt she could fix him or at least soften his personality because so far, she’s learned all the reasons why he is the way he is, and she thinks given the chance, he could actually change. Not that he’d ever let her help him. 

That was why she was so panicked when he’d shown genuine care and interest in her. What if she gave him the chance to be with her? What if she ended up falling for him only to be discarded once he was bored with her? What if he was incapable of changing and he treated her just like he treats everyone else? If he loved the Countess and he treated her the way he did, why would it be any different with her? 

He interrupted her thoughts with another kiss, a gentle and almost sweet kiss that was so unlike him. It was meant to put her at ease and it nearly did, she felt her stomach flutter either nervously or because it made her swoon. She felt how loosely he held her face, giving her an out, and easy escape from being anywhere near him. And even though her mind once again screamed at her to get out, her feet were planted where she stood and she started to kiss him back just as softly. 

HIs beard tickled the skin around her lips, but she didn’t mind. Instead, she had memories of other times she’d felt that when he kissed her, times where he worshipped every inch of her body with his mouth, and had his head buried between her legs. Her heart was beating quickly and roughly in her chest at the feeling of him kissing her so gently, for the first time, it wasn’t rough and careless. His lips moved tenderly and slowly against hers, stealing the breath from the lungs and making her knees weak. 

She’d never been kissed quite like that and she didn’t think Ben even had the capacity to give someone a kiss like that. He was gentle and he wasn’t pressing, but there was still a hint of desperation and need for her that made her cling to the straps on his thin waist. 

His warm hands slowly moved from her face to the hem of her shirt, which he played with contemplatively before simply moving them underneath it. He grasped her hips and tugged her forward until she was pressed tightly against his body with a quiet moan from her being muffled against his mouth. He could feel all of her even when clothed fully, but the soft and flimsy material of her sleepwear only triggered all the memories he had of her own body being trapped beneath his. The way she felt so perfect under his hands, every curve and every dip of her body felt as if it had been sculpted just for his touch. 

He pulled away from her plush lips just to pull her shirt up and off her body. Carefully and deliberately, he stripped her, dragging his hands and mouth along her form to replace every article of clothing removed from her. Her skin started to heat up the longer he took, her body tensed with each teasing touch of his, waves of shivers following every touch, kiss, suck, and bite. And soon, she was standing naked in front of him. Her skin was flushed and she was breathing as heavily as he was. Her eyes just stared up at him, filled with an endless conflict and desire that he understood, but it also hurt more than he’d like to admit.

Still, she was the one who slid her hand to the back of his neck to pull him back down for a searing kiss. Her fingers threading through his hair, keeping him close as he busied himself with taking his suit off with her help. He was impatient with himself, undoing every buckle and loosening every strap, zipping everything down as swiftly as he could until he was as naked as she was. 

This was new for him. He wasn’t in a frenzy to fuck. He took his time, moved slowly, watching her desire for him bloom the longer he took. Suddenly, it hit him that it felt different and new.

He stared down at her, eyes sweeping over the expanse of her face as he slid his hands down her back and he bent his knees to reach the back of her thighs. Looking up at her and the way she looked down at him, it turned him on. Like he was worshipping her. It was short-lived when she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him control of her body. He moved forward with her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist and he kissed her neck and shoulder, nuzzling her sensitive skin and inhaling the clean scent of her skin. 

Her uneven breaths and the little sighs that slipped from her parted lips spurred him on the whole way to the bed he’d claimed as his own. He placed his knees on the soft mattress and carefully dipped her until she let go of him and let herself bounce slightly against the soft sheets. There was a little smile on her face when he gazed down at her, and for once, she wasn’t thinking about what her team would want or how anyone would feel if they saw her with Ben, she focused solely on what she wanted and how she felt. 

At that moment, everything seemed to click. When she reached out for Ben’s face, he leaned down to meet her resting his arm by her head. Her fingers once again tangled in his soft hair when he sealed her lips with his in a purposeful kiss, firm and full of promise before he moved his mouth down to her jaw. His teeth grazed her jawline, sliding down until he bit gently at her pulse point, drawing a gasp and a little moan when he swiped his tongue across the spot and sucked possessively. Her fingers tightened in his hair, her nails pushing into the muscle of his shoulder.

Heat flooded between her legs and she arched her back, his hand sliding up her side and under the curve to hold her in place. She couldn't decide whether to squeeze his legs in attempts to close her own or to open them wider for him. He pretended not to notice that and continued to kiss her neck, his lip lingered on her skin, proprietorial and ravenous as they trailed down her body. He took his time and made sure his mouth had been on every inch of her skin as he moved lower, biting at her collarbones and sucking on the skin above her breasts. 

Little by little, she became more impatient. His plump lips wrapped around one of her nipples, lapping and sucking so her breathing would pick up. He slid his hand up from the arch of her back to tweak her nipple and pinch it between his forefinger and thumb, on the edge of being painful and pleasurable. Her clit throbbed, desperate for him to pick up the pace or give her what she wanted, and she could feel just how wet she was as the air around them hit her core. 

She could have touched herself if she wanted, but she liked the torture, the ache that grew between her legs just waiting and letting him take his time with her body. It was hard to stay in control and she pulled roughly at the soft strands of hair that she clung to in order to stop herself from ruining the fun. Everything felt so sensitive and a million times more delicious, as if induced by drugs, but there was something about him that gave her that high every time. Maybe it was the fact that she’s never quite been fucked or touched like this before.

He’d look up at her every now and then, smirking occasionally at the sight of her with her head tipped back, moaning and squirming impatiently. He gently teased her skin with his nose, trailing his lips down the centre of her stomach, squeezing her sides when she wiggled her hips to get his attention. He smiled and nipped at her hip bones, dragging his bearded mouth across her thighs while avoiding where she clearly needed him. 

Eventually, there was no part of her body that was untouched by his mouth and hands--except for her aching and wet cunt. But when he got to it, he just huffed out a breath over her dripping cunt to watch her squirm and lifted himself back up her body. He pressed a hard kiss to her neck and then kissed her lips, his tongue easily entering her hot mouth. They both moaned into each other’s mouths as he practically devoured her mouth, firm and needy while holding the back of her neck and tilting her head so he could kiss her as hungrily as he wanted.

“You’re so goddamn delicious, doll.” He pulled away from her breathlessly, his lips wet and swollen. He sat back on his legs, enjoying the sight of her looking just as wrecked as he felt. She was flushed and warm and her hungry eyes were slowly dragging over his face and down his body. She licked her lips when she got to his cock, hard and throbbing and leaking at the tip. 

“Ben,” she murmured, a hint of neediness in her voice that made him smirk. Using her elbow to lift herself up, she reached over to wrap her hand around the base of his cock before he could continue to tease her. 

“Shit,” he groaned. His hips bucked into her hand and she slowly started to lift her hand up, thumbing some precum over the soft head, and squeezing all the way down until he let out a strangled moan. 

“Touch me,” she whispered, and even though he detected it being a command more than a plea, he complied. He dragged his hands up the back of her thighs and spread her legs, his hooded green eyes glued on her glistening folds. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart,” he praised, dragging two fingers from her slick entrance to her clit. He lifted the wet fingers to his face and she blushed when he inhaled the scent of her arousal before slipping the two fingers into his mouth with a satisfied moan. “Christ, you taste so good.” He brought his fingers back to her pussy, pushing his two fingers into her entrance, his fingertips curled to rub against her walls everytime he pushed them in and out, going deeper and deeper, slowly, and only going fast when he felt the way she expanded inside. 

“Holy fuck, Ben,” she gasped, her pussy squeezing his fingers and gazing up at him with her pretty glazed eyes. 

Even in her dazed state, she continued to jerk him off with quick, stuttered and uneven tugs. He could feel his own orgasm beginning to form with the way she was looking at him, his stomach tightening when his eyes flickered down to her hand, now wet and coated in his precum. 

She moved her hips eagerly against his hand and only stopped when he flattened a large hand on her stomach, a small cry leaving her lips when he added a third finger into her squelching cunt. “That’s right, baby, cum on my fingers,” he encouraged, lowering his hand to her pelvis to quickly massage her clit with his thumb.

“Shit… Ben,” she hissed, letting her orgasm wash over her, wave after wave of pleasure making her body shake. He groaned softly, shoving his fingers deep into her cunt to brush his fingers against the sensitive spot deep inside over and over until she collapsed onto her back, her hand becoming still on his cock to wrap around his wrist instead. 

“That’s my good girl,” he lauded, slowly slipping his fingers out of her. She murmured his name softly at the praise as he slid his hand up and down her sides comfortingly and stared down at his fingers. They were coated in clear slick and creamy cum that made his mouth water. “Shit, look at that,” he chuckled, licking his lips. He leaned over her, shoving a clean hand to the back of her head to grasp her hair. With a harsh pull, he forced her eyes open so she could watch him lick away her release from his fingers. “Make me cum and I’ll fill you up,” he promised, then shoved two of his saliva-coated fingers into her mouth, thrusting them in and out of her mouth the way he would if it was his cock. 

He scooted closer, close enough so that her thighs were thrown over his and his cockhead brush against her stomach with every quick drag of her hand on his wet cock. He purposely pushed his fingers deeper into her mouth, moaning softly when she gagged momentarily and closed her eyes to blink tears away when he kept shoving them as deep as he could into her throat. 

“No, no, look at me, honey. You’re so fucking pretty when you--oh, fuck,” he rasped, grunting softly in surprise. His cock twitched excitedly as hot tears flowed down her cheeks and she moaned softly when he tightened his grip on her hair. He came with a soft growl of her name, spilling hot and messy on her stomach and breasts, feeling an overwhelming intensity in his orgasm while gazing into her watery eyes. He didn’t know if it was the eye contact, or the way her eyes glazed over with tears with her lashes sticking together that pushed him over the edge, but whatever it was, it made him cum faster than they both expected. 

“Jesus, Ben,” she laughed softly, releasing his now limp cock. He just panted heavily, leaning back on his legs with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. He basked in the aftershocks of the mind-blowing orgasm he just had with his hands on her hips and she licked her lips while wiping away tears from her cheeks and eyes.

He looked back down at her once he recomposed himself, catching her playing with his cum splattered on her chest and in the middle of lifting her fingers into her mouth. She looked at him and snickered when she saw the look on his face as she started to lick at the cum on her fingers, his eyes darkening and his cock hardening all over again. 

 “I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her roughly. She moaned softly, pleasantly surprised when he rocked his hips against hers, sliding his cock through her folds and over her clit teasingly. He reached between their bodies and lined himself up with her entrance, easily thrusting into her with a snap of his hips. 

He carefully rocked his hips against hers, lifting himself up slightly so they parted from the searing kiss to gaze down at her. Her eyes fluttered open, but she didn’t protest, just slid her hands along the hefty planes of his back, stopping only when she got to his broad shoulders to hold onto them. He stopped suddenly after letting his eyes drift over her face, then he hid his own in her neck and slid his arm under the small of her back.

“Homelander’s my son,” he mumbled against the connection between her neck and shoulder. She froze and her eyes widened when she deciphered what he’d said and slid her hands from his back to push at his shoulders, but he didn’t budge. “That’s what Mindstorm told me,” he added quietly.

“What the fuck, Ben?” She grumbled, yanking his hair in attempts to get him off her, but he just growled and swivelled his hips defiantly. “You’re gonna tell me that now?” She protested and he gave an unhumourous nod into her neck, lifting himself up just to kiss her to distract her from what he’d blurted out. She kissed him back begrudgingly with her eyes open.

“I knew you’d react this way,” he said softly against her lips. She bit his lip roughly and he hissed, pulling away to glare at her and was met with a fierce glare from her. 

“Yeah, fuck you,” she muttered, squirming angrily in attempts to get away from him. She felt used, as if he’d hide that from her just to get a quick fuck. 

“Please,” he whispered, pulling out when he realised she wasn’t giving him a chance to explain himself. 

“Please what?” She spat, shoving him away to think about what he just revealed. Out of everyone she’s ever met, Homelander was someone she truly despised. He was an utter piece of shit and he had a long list of vile traits that she despised in people, supe or not. He was a fucking child and he was out of control, no one ever having told him ‘no’ his whole life. “What the fuck do you want from me?” She asked, moving away to pace around the room or even to leave Ben the same way she had before.

“You know what I want,” he retorted, suddenly it wasn’t about Homelander. Fear of being left alone again made Ben grab her arm to stop her from getting out of bed. “You’re not fucking stupid, sweetheart,” he reminded, gently tugging her back to him. She didn’t budge, but she looked over at him when he let her go. She caught a glimpse of the resignation on his face, the vulnerability she’d rarely seen on his face, before he could mask it. She sighed in defeat, deciding to hear him out after all.

“Ben…” She sat on the bed, facing him and reached out to brush his hair away from his face. He moved away from her touch, sitting at the edge of the bed with his back to her. She dropped her hand in her lap and watched him, her eyes drifting to the large window in front of him that let her see what he could no longer hide from her.

“If you’re not gonna say what I wanna hear, don’t say anything and get out,” he said harshly, his shoulders slumped and overall, he looked defeated. She’d expected him to lash out or to hear how he didn’t want to kill Homelander, but it was probably worse to see him like this.

“Ben, it won’t work out.” She said it softly, but it hurt him like a million knives in the chest. In reality, the hurt he felt hearing her say that didn’t compare to the forty years of torture he was put through in Russia. 

“It could work… I could make it work,” he said quietly, “when we’re done with Black Noir and Homelander, and I will kill him… It’ll just be you and me, Y/N. Maybe… we can start a family somewhere else, far away from all this bullshit.” He looked over his shoulder slightly just to read her face when she remained quiet. 

She chewed on her lip, frowning as she considered his words. He was still willing to kill Homelander, his son. That should be worth something. He actually wanted something normal when he was done with this and she was more surprised than doubtful of his words. He spoke so softly, as if he’d had this plan all his life and finally found someone who could fill in the faceless mother of the children he wanted in his fantasy. He was willing to retire and he wanted that with her.

After spending years being an abusive and toxic asshole, then wasting decades more of his life being tortured, it made sense to her that he just wanted to cherish the rest of his time doing shit he’s always wanted rather than trying to prove he was worth something. In many ways, being a father could fulfil that need to prove he wasn’t a complete disappointment. After he’d been told that so much by his father, he was incapable of seeing himself as anything but a disappointment. This was his way out and she could easily open that door up for him.

Or she could slam that door in his face like a coward. She could continue to be too afraid to be hated by a team that didn’t give two fucks about her. Why she prioritised their opinions on her puzzled her as much as Ben being vulnerable right now. 

“Get out,” he muttered, staring at her with his face hard. She blinked and focused on him again, her mouth fell open to say something, but he turned away and was sitting straight. The walls he’d let down were up again, probably stronger than ever before, and she made her way over to him on her knees, sliding her hand up his neck to cup his chin and tilt his head back so he’d look up at her. 

He stared at her with steely eyes, but she kissed him, painfully squeezing his chin until he moaned and opened his mouth to let her tongue slip past his lips. He reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist, silently telling her to loosen her grip and she did, kissing him firmly, saying everything she couldn’t say with the heated kiss. He melted into her, turning slowly until she had to pull away to accommodate the new position he was kissing her in. 

“I’m not gonna let you push me around and tell me what to do,” she murmured between kisses, moving up the bed with him until her head was settled against the fluffy pillows. 

“I won’t do that,” he promised, taking his soft cock in his hand and jerking it until he was stiff and ready again.

“There’s a lot more,” she murmured distractedly. 

“I can imagine,” he laughed softly, gently pushing himself into her, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

➥ your sword versus my dagger

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[alocon]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [2] - Max Verstappen

written by alocon

Note: Name and Part One based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko

Summary: After the release of your first song, released the day before the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix weekend, there is some obvious tension in the garage as you and your ex boyfriend have one final fight for the championship.

Warning: Angst? I guess. Use of Y/N (sorry, I don't like using it but there were a couple of times that I had to bc I didn't have any alternatives), some social media at the end.

[The Masterlist] [Previous Part Here] [Next Part Here]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [Part Two] - MV¹

2024 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix

Thursday - Media Day

"Lovely to see you all," Crofty said, looking around the group of drivers in the press conference. On the couch was Max, Lando, Charles, Lewis and You. "Firstly, Y/N, all of us over at Sky Sports are loving the new song, it’s been the talk of the paddock all morning too. Lots of us want to know, who is it about?”

You chuckled, knowing that you’d be asked at some point. You hadn’t expected it to be so soon. “Firstly, thank you. I’m glad that so many people have been liking it. Lew and I have literally been working on it since like the start of the year. I’m so thankful that he agreed to do the guitar for me because I wouldn’t have been able to do this without him. As for who it’s about.” You paused, looking quickly at Max, who’s eyes were already on you. You looked at him for a moment before turning your attention back to Crofty, making sure to look at glance at the drivers as you did. “It’s about one of my ex’s. I won’t say which one.”

“And the name. How did you come up with the song name? How are you feeling about this weekend, by the way?”

“It was something that he said to explain why we broke up. I like to think that everything happens for a reason, you know? And sometimes, things aren’t meant to be. And that’s just life. I’m just glad that people like it. I’m so excited for this weekend. As you all know, it’s been hard working towards this weekend, and I’m looking forward to giving Max a hell of a hard time.”

He chuckled, looking at you. Your eyes went straight to him, sending him a competitive grin. “Hope you’re looking forward to P2 in the drivers, buttercup.” Him hitting you with the teasing childhood nickname was a surprise. He started calling you that when you were both 14 because he slipped a buttercup into your hand and it scared the life out of you. So since then, he has never let you live it down. You didn’t even hesitate in your response to him.

“I hope you’re looking forward to seeing me on the top step of the podium, Princess Max.” The glare he shot you was almost instantaneous as Charles started laughing, obviously having understood the reference. 

“Right, just for that, I'm taking you out of the race on turn one.” You recognised that teasing tone in his voice, feeling your stomach flutter a little at that beautiful, happy tone that you had missed being directed at you. But you shook it off. ‘He wasn't meant to be, remember?’ you told yourself as the conference continued.

The moment you got out of the press conference, the atmosphere changed. Max walked straight past you, not even daring to look at you. You and Max still rarely talked. Since the start of 2024 you had become more civil, but you were nowhere near friends. 

Max slumped down onto the seat in his driver's room. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. Fuck. He heard the door open and shut and, moments later, felt a presence on the space beside him on the couch. “Go on, then. What’s up?”

He raised his head to the man, looking at the seriousness all across his face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Max. I was your teammate for like 2 years. I saw the way you loved her and I saw the mess after you broke up. I also just watched that press conference. Start speaking.” Daniel was persistent, to be fair to him. But he also had a point. Over the years, Daniel had heard a lot about how he felt but he never talked about you to him.

“I regret it. Basically every day. It’s not left my mind since I listened to her song.”

“Still? Max, it’s been 6 years since you broke up with her. Also, YOU broke up with HER. Why would you do that if you didn’t want to?”

Max sighed, the memories of his prior conversation coming back to him.

[November 2018]

“You need to break up with her.” The seven words he had always dreaded hearing. Never in a million years would he ever consider breaking up with you. You were his muse, his soulmate. You were the person he wanted to marry, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was funny, the words that left the man in front of him’s mouth. He knew he had a long shot of ever getting him to do that.

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

“She’ll just distract you, Max!” Jos’ voice was already doing Max’s head in and he had only said 12 words so far. ‘What happened to hello, how are you?’ He thought, rolling his eyes at the poor excuse that he spilled.

“As if she had ever distracted me before. Seriously, dad. We have been karting and racing together for years, for our entire relationship, and nothing will change now that we are in the same team.”

And that’s how it became an argument. The pair were shouting at each other. And then the bomb dropped. Jos handed Max a photo, making a comment about how he wouldn’t want it to be leaked. Max looked at the photo, his stomach instantly turning with disgust as he realised the photo that his father had managed to get ahold of and was now using it to threaten him, attempting to get him to break up with you, his person, because he wasn’t a fan of you. Jos never had liked you. Whilst being with you, you had helped Max realise that Jos was not a good person by any means, and Jos didn’t like that. As if on queue, your head poked around the door, quickly apologising when you realised that Jos was there. Jos smiled at you, before speaking. “No problem, I was just leaving. Think about what I said, Max.”

—

“What a dick,” Daniel declared, having taken a few moments to process what Max had just explained.

“Daniel, I miss her so much.”

“I know, mate. I know.” Daniel paused his speaking for a minute, attempting to come up with some kind of recommendation. He was fully aware that Max couldn’t express how he felt in person, so he came up with an idea. “Maybe write her a letter. She likes displays of affection like that.”

Race Day.

Crossing the line was the happiest you had been in a while. The race was excellent. For most of the race, Max and you had been fighting for P1 until he barely managed to get out of your DRS range. He ended up being a good few seconds ahead with 10 laps remaining. You didn't let that get to you, though, opting to keep pushing to the very last lap. And you did, getting closer and closer. However, you would've been perfectly happy if Max won. You both put up a brilliant fight and the drive against him was superb. But then you saw your golden opportunity. You overtook him, riskily but safely and fairly, regaining the lead of the race. Final lap. You heard the radio sound, being disappointed when Christian could be heard through it. “Give Max back the position, please.”

“Why should I?” You were pissed. Once again, they were attempting to strip you of everything you had worked hard for, everything that you wanted and dreamed of. Everything that you and Max talked about when you were kids. One day, he would say, one day we'll both be world champions, driving for Red Bull together and happily in love. Well, that last part didn't happen but you weren't about to give up on that.

“Max has worked so hard for this.”

“Fuck off, Christian, so have I.”

He said your name with venom, chuckling as he spoke. “We have a meeting to sign your contract extension tomorrow, remember. You've got to respect what your boss says if you want to keep driving.”

You scoffed as you crossed the finish line. No congratulations from Christian, a congratulations from your amazing race engineer, of course, but he was quickly shushed by Christian. You knew at least Crofty and Martin would be cheering in that commentary box, likely would be referring to it as the most interesting race since Abu Dhabi 2021 or Bahrain 2022.

Getting out of the car, you saw the red bull team. But they weren't cheering for you, they were cheering for Max. You hugged your engineer, excitedly celebrating your first world championship. The one you had worked so hard for day in and day out. You then rushed to hug a bunch of the drivers who were there, starting with Fernando who finished P3 in the race, as well as the championship. Then you went to them all, starting with Lewis, then Charles and Carlos, then Yuki, then Logan and so on. And then you saw Max. He walked to you, giving you a congratulatory hug. You hugged back, your arms going around his waist. You felt his hands move around your shoulders to your neck, confusion filling you as you pulled away from the hug, noticing the Dutch flag wrapped around your shoulders. “If I won, I was going to wear it to the podium. But this time, it's your turn. Congratulations.”

The post race interview started with Fernando, then only Max. When he was asked about how he felt about losing to you, he, too, referenced your childhood. “On the 14th of February 2012, she asked me what my dream was. I told her that it was for us to both make it to F1. For us to both be world champions, driving in the same team. Together. And a couple other things. Whilst we didn't get those other things, I'm happy that we have finally achieved most of our dreams.” It then went onto you. 

Jenson asked about the race, congratulated you, the normal stuff. He then brought up the request from Horner about letting Max win. He smiled softly, signalling for you to speak as much as you wanted. “To be quite honest, Jens, I think it was a stupid team order. For them to assume that I would willingly give up a championship to give it to someone else is insane. I’ve been listening to his orders for years, letting Max through most of the time I was asked. However, when I don't, all I would receive is a lecture. ‘You should’ve listened to us’ he would say. ‘You didn’t deserve that win, you are lucky you are even driving for us, don’t push your luck.’” Your eyes scanned the crowd as you spoke. Disgust about Christian’s actions was over all the driver’s faces. Including Max, who was clearly surprised. Christian, on the other hand, looked as white as a ghost. You continued speaking.

“However, I am not, by any means, upset with Max. I know that none of this was his fault. It was Christian’s,” you said, pausing to take a breath before saying the next thing. This whole year had built up to this moment. “Which is why I am incredibly happy to announce that the contract renewal meeting will not be necessary, because I will be driving for Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula One Team in the 2025 season.” You glanced over to Lewis who had grinned at you, winking, having already known the news. You took this opportunity to lightly tease him about his inability to say the team name. “See, Lew? It’s not that difficult to remember the name.”

“So… Mercedes, huh?”

“Yes, Max. Mercedes. You won’t miss me too much when I’m gone, no?”

He chuckled, sitting on your couch as you packed your stuff up. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Are you going to the Red Bull Team Party later?”

“I wasn’t invited. Never have been.”

“Really?” He watched you nod. “Well, come anyway. Be my plus one, show them who’s the boss.” He stood up, stepping closer to you. “I’m sorry they favoured me. I never rewatched the races so I never saw the radio. I truly am sorry.”

“Max, it wasn’t your fault. I’ll think about your offer, I need to go.”

“Wait.” He reached in his pocket, pulling out some paper. “Read that when you get to the hotel, please.”

—

Y/N,

You’ll have to bear with me, I will try my best not to waffle too much. I struggle to express how I feel through words, so Daniel suggested a letter.

When I think back to 2018, I realised that I never gave you a proper explanation on why I broke up with you. It was not a choice which I wanted to make. If given the choice, I would’ve chose the opposite, however, given the situation, the choice was obvious.

My father threatened me with a photo. I know what you’re thinking. “Why would a photo give you a reason to break up with me?” Jos managed to get a hold of an inappropriate photo of you, one which he threatened to release if I stayed with you. Believe me, if the opportunity was there, we would still be dating now. However, I couldn’t do this to you. I couldn’t let your reputation in the F1 community get destroyed because I decided to be selfish and stay with you. I hope I can be forgiven for this. I loved your song. It might’ve been the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.

I know that our break up was irreparable. I handled it way worse than I should have. However, I again have reason for this. I feared that, if I wasn’t harsh, you would’ve been determined to keep us working. And I have a soft spot for you, I always have done. I would do anything for you in a heartbeat.

I know I never said it when we were together, and I know that I should have, but I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before. I have since the day we met to the current day. I’m planning to give this letter to you the day of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, after the race, but it was written before. I hope you know that, no matter what, even if you win the championship, nothing will ever stop me feeling devoted to you. You are my life, my soul, my person. I will love you until the day I take my last breath.

I know we may never be able to repair what we had, but maybe we could just be friends? If so, my number is *** *** *** ***, please message me, schat.

Forever yours,

Maxie xx

-

You messaged him. Of course you did. Deep down, you missed him. He was your person. You were happy he at least wanted to be friends. Sure, he absolutely was a soulmate who wasn't meant to be, but maybe you could at least talk a little more now.

youruser

📍 Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

liked by maxverstappen1 and others

youruser: and with that, the 2024 season comes to an end. It's been a pleasure, glad to finally have a Championship under my belt x

tagged: maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial, georgerussell63

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maxverstappen1: Been a pleasure driving with you. Can't wait to have you as proper competition next year x

youruser: It's been a great 6 years, Max. x

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youruser

liked by georgerussell63 and others

youruser: My time at Red Bull Racing has come to an end. This decision was not one I took lightly, however, it took little to no consideration to make this decision. The treatment that I received from Red Bull Racing over the years and, more specifically, Christian Horner, has been one I would not wish upon any driver. That being said, Max, you have been a wonderful teammate. Can't wait to beat you again next year, just in a Mercedes this time. Goodbye Oracle Red Bull Racing, hello Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula One Team. (P.s. Christian, I am bringing my race engineer with me xoxo)

tagged: georgerussell63, maxverstappen1, mercedesamgf1

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georgerussell63: Can't wait to be your teammate!!

youruser: so hyped!!

maxverstappen1: Humble yourself, I'll be back to winning the wdc next year

youruser: lmaoooo you wish

mercedesamgf1: What's 4+4??

youruser: ATEEEE

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f1

liked by youruser and others

f1: bet you didn't expect this abu dhabi plot twist!! Our World Champ moves to Mercedes for 2025!!

-comments off-

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maxverstappen1 posted an instagram story!

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twitter

-The End-

-Word Count: 2,483 (not incl. social media comments)-

Hi All, I got asked to write a part two so here we go x Sorry if this was bad, it's unedited and it's also currently 1.40am for me. Goodnight everyone, have a good day! Alocon

[f2e5b1]

bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [1/3]

pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika warnings/themes. mentions of death, jealousy, hints of obsession and possession. just a lil dark romance practice (which is barely any dark romance tbh who am i kidding) sprinkled with food motifs but i dont know what im doing im just here for the vibes :P mostly sfw with nsfw themes but nothing sexual bc im too scared to go down that dark path (also no use of y/n bc i started writing with an original name and it unfortunately stuck lawl... can be treated as either or it doesnt matter tbh i cant write anything outside of 2nd person anwyay) word count. 2.8k words nothing too crazy xd playlist. knuckle velvet by ethel cain; velvet ring by big thief; pure by cigarettes after sex; only in the dreams by the marias; be my mistake by the 1975; mary by alex g

it’s been a long time since i have seen my beloved. the moss has grown on that abetachibana tree

PART ONE: ichigo daifuku

Gojō Satoru tells you that love is the most twisted curse of them all.

He had said it in passing after your first solo mission, right as you were entering the car back to Jujutsu Tech before talking your ear off with his lame jokes. The mission had consisted of exorcizing a curse that had persistently haunted an abandoned apartment complex in Omotesandō, assigned to you by the higher-ups in accordance with your newly promoted rank as a Grade 2 sorcerer, having decided that a Grade 1 was doable enough for someone of your caliber. The curse itself wasn’t anything special, though, only repeating gargled confessions of its love to some ‘Chiyo-chan’—whoever she was—the whole time you were dodging its attacks, which was incredibly annoying. You liked your battles in silence, quick and succinct, but curses make that difficult to achieve.

Gojō muses it could have been a past lover, this Chiyo-chan—its love for her having cursed itself. You didn’t really care. If you keep up the good work, complete your required missions and get another recommendation, you could be ranked a Semi-Grade 1 by your second year, then a Grade 1 by your third and nothing else after that because unless you were someone like Gojō Satoru, then you are capped forever at Grade 1.

“So anyway—snacks you like?” said sorcerer asks, finally done with his previous tale. Something about an old coworker. “Mochi, senbei, or taiyaki? Personally, I'm a mochi ice cream type of guy!”

You look at him.

“Why are you here again?”

“... Is your memory that small, Ume? I was proctoring you,” he tuts, mouth turned downwards. “Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”

You shrug. “Ichigo daifuku is good, I guess.”

He smiles, wryly.

“You’re joking, right?”

+

The building facing your childhood home had been home to Orimito Rika, an unsuspecting property with a decent front yard and the occasional street cat or two often shooed away by her irate grandmother. “Mean granny,” you’d often call her, the insult drowned out by your hushed giggles as you played with your dolls. Rika wouldn’t say anything about it, wouldn’t dare verbally agree with you, but she would always nod her head down, the corners of her lips turned up too high.

You didn’t particularly hate the old woman, but there was a certain kind of satisfaction to saying it behind her back after all the times you’ve caught her looking at her granddaughter in unbridled scorn, your own little form of revenge. You could never understand how her only remaining family could look at her like that, not when Rika was so beautiful and kind; like the cherry blossoms during spring, falling gently along with the wind. Sure, she could be a little cunning at times, and none of the other kids at school liked her because “something’s odd about her, can’t you just hang out with us instead?”—but that’s what makes her interesting, right?

Rika isn’t weird, she’s pretty, and you’re the bee drawn to her. She’s only older than you by a year, ten instead of nine, but she always played with you, taught you how to make flower crowns at the park, and when you walked home from school she’d always hold your hand. Her smile is blindingly bright, the sound of her voice a song you couldn’t stop listening to. Selfishly, you wish it would always be the two of you together; playing with your dolls, walking home with your hands intertwined.

But when she came back from the hospital, so did Okkotsu Yūta.

You could never see what she saw in him; he was short and just a little bit pathetic, always trailing after her like a lost puppy at first. You could push him off the swing and he'd move on with a sniffle, the kind to give up the plastic shovel even though he desperately needed it to finish his sand castle because he didn’t want to fight a girl. He smiled shyly and hid his hands behind his back, looking at you like he was looking for your approval. Of course, you never gave him the time of day, because it felt like he had stolen Rika—your Rika. It was supposed to be just you and her, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now there was Okkotsu Yūta, who held Rika’s other hand after school, who took away her attention from you so easily.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” she asks often, a light blush dusting her face.

“I guess,” is your reply.

“Ne,” she calls, presenting to you a small, black box. You look at it in apprehension, wincing when she eventually opens it. “What do you think of this ring? It was my mom’s. I’m gonna give this to Yūta-kun, do you think he’ll like it?”

The ring was immensely simple, a silver-colored band with a small diamond in front, glinting under the light. Nevermind the fact that it was too big for a child’s fingers to fit in, Rika presented it to you as if it held all the answers to the world. Although her parents were dead, and she had definitely stolen it from her grandmother’s dresser, the ring spoke full of promise. When she takes it out of the box and lets you inspect it, it feels heavy.

“... You really like him, don’t you, Rika-chan?” you ask, quietly.

Rika looks at the stupid piece of jewelry, painfully smitten.

“Mhm,” she affirms. “I really like Yūta-kun. I want to be with him forever! Of course, I like you too, Ume-chan. You and Yūta-kun are my favorite people in the world!”

You close the box, handing it back to her. When Rika looks at you expectantly, you realize then that you could never bring yourself to take that happiness away from her.

+

The koinobori flies.

“It’s so pretty!” Rika exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at the sky where the huge, windsock carp moves around. It’s bathed in all sorts of colors—from red to blue to white to green—dancing along the azure expanse in commemoration of Children’s Day. The weather is just right, not too hot nor too cold, and the wind caresses your skin gently, the sun not too harsh. It makes the color of Rika’s hair shine in all the right ways, adds more sparkle in her already bright eyes. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, a nice change from her usual blue one. The cream-colored hat you let her borrow covers her face with the shade, but her smile remains bright and blinding. She looks pretty.

She gives you all of her ichigo daifuku, and shares Yūta’s snacks. She doesn’t even like chimaki.

“Are you sure, Rika-chan?” you ask, looking at the two sweets in your hands.

She beams. “You like them, don’t you?”

You keep them with you until the end of the event.

The day passes by incredibly fast, your little trio having exhausted yourselves from running around the park alongside the other children. Yūta chases Rika around the park, and you watch them squeal and laugh at each other and hold hands. You watch them take a nap under the shade, their pinkies intertwined, and you watch as the ugly color of green blinds your eyesight. You leave them be.

Sometimes, you wish you’re the colorful koinobori flying in the sky. You’d let Rika hold on to you, let her fly and hear her amused laugh as the wind tickles her skin. Sometimes, you wish Yūta slapped the ring away from her hands when she handed it to him. Wish he stomped it on the ground and at the same time stomped on her heart. Wish he didn’t take it with a huge smile and agree that he’d marry her when they get older; he’s not the one who’d wait long lines just to get her the best ichigo daifuku, not the one who’d jump at the other kids when they so much as think of insulting her, and he won’t be the one who’d choose to stay with her when she’s all gray and old cause he’s a boy, and boys would never do that.

Sometimes, you wish he never liked her at all—because he never deserved her in the first place.

Okkotsu Yūta could never love Orimito Rika like you.

+

He sits beside you at lunch.

Rika’s been bedridden for the whole week, which subsequently ruins your week. Yūta doesn’t seem to mind her absence all that much since he doesn’t see her a lot during classes anyway, but they’re supposed to be engaged. He should always be thinking of her, should be acting as miserable as you even at the unripe age of nine. He looks too okay with her absence when he shouldn’t be.

“What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the small bag of snacks he had placed on the cover of your bento.

“Hm?” he looks up. “Oh, it’s norimaki senbei.”

“... And?” you prod.

He tilts his head. “You don’t want it?”

“... I don’t want it.”

He looks at you thoughtfully.

“But you like them, don’t you?” he asks though he’s acting like he already knows, like you’ll take it regardless of what you say. It’s annoying.

You look at the seaweed-wrapped rice crackers—the stupid norimaki senbei—in mild contempt. “Why are you giving it to me?”

Yūta’s smile is small, knowing. “Because you don’t like sweets.”

You frown.

+

She’s a sweet girl.

You think of Orimoto Rika like that because it’s true—she smiles sweetly, she speaks sweetly, and she likes sweet things. She tells you that her favorite snack is ichigo daifuku, the very same confection you always begged your parents to buy for you just so you could share them with her. It pays off all the time because then she’d look as sweet as the daifuku itself, her cheeks as red as the fruit within it. She also likes hanami dango, but she doesn’t like the green part because she doesn’t really like the subtle taste of yomogi, so you eat the rest for her because she doesn’t want to waste it. She likes cold tea instead of hot, sweet instead of savory, like yuzu iced tea or bubbly ramune in comparison to the nutty taste of hōjicha. When you go to the store, she always gets the kompeitō with some random anime character on the packaging because those were the “cutest kind of kompeitō,” and Rika likes cute things.

She also likes the color pink, but when you ask her what her favorite color is she’d say it’s blue. It’s blue not because she wears that blue dress all the time, but blue because it’s the color of Okkotsu Yūta’s eyes, bright and round and always looking at her. Rika likes it that way—she likes how Okkotsu Yūta is always looking at her with his blue eyes, unwavering and full of adoration for her and her only.

You think Orimito Rika is a sweet girl, but sometimes she’s more than that. Sometimes, when the other kids get brave enough to drag you away from her, tell you to stop hanging out with her, they say it’s because Rika doesn’t like anyone else but Okkotsu Yūta.

Sometimes, when they tell you that, you wonder if Rika liked you at all, way before Okkotsu Yūta came into the picture.

But most of the time, you don’t really care. Even if Rika didn’t like you, you’d still like her. Even if she’d only have her eyes set on Okkotsu Yūta with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid norimaki senbei and stupid chimaki that he shared with her on the fifth of May, you’d still like her because she’s Rika—beautiful, kind, and wonderful Rika.

She has things she doesn’t like, too, such as other people but never Yūta-kun or Ume-chan! She likes it when people compliment her and praise her looks and give her free stuff like ramune or ichigo daifuku or Sailor Moon-themed kompeitō from the store, but sometimes she tells you that she dislikes this certain group of girls from Yūta’s class, dislikes the boy assigned as your seatmate, her homeroom teacher, the “weird” guy who works at the konbini a street over, and dislikes it even more when her grandmother looks at her and tells her she killed her own father without even saying anything at all.

You know all those things because you know Orimito Rika. You like her even if she holds intense dislike for the people outside her circle, people who tick her off just a little for you to see her smile crack at the edges and go stiff, the little twitch of her brown eyes, and most importantly, you still like her when all she wants in the world is the attention of the boy who wears her deceased mother’s ring.

You’ll always want sweet girls like her.

+

“Where’s Rika-chan?”

“Her grandma won’t let her go out today,” Yūta says, sitting next to you on the bench. “So it’s just you and me.”

He says it dejectedly, but it’s not enough for you. If he was really sad, then he’d be as sad as you are, so you start packing your belongings. “I’m leaving, then.”

He startles, standing up. “Huh? W–wait! Don’t leave just yet!”

“But Rika-chan’s not here,” you frown. “There’s no point in hanging out today.”

He falters, looking down at the ground.

“Even if she isn’t here, we can still play together…” he offers, looking up at you timidly. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”

The green-eyed monster stares at the silver chain wrapped around his neck, the ring acting as its pendant tucked underneath his shirt—like an unattainable treasure trapped inside a chest with the key thrown away somewhere you cannot find it. We’re not friends, the monster says with a snarl, stay away from me.

If there is one thing you know, then it’s that you have never wanted to be friends with Okkotsu Yūta, not after he took everything from you. He can butter you up by sticking to you during class and sitting next to you at lunch and even offering you some of his not-ichigo daifuku, not-yuzu iced tea, and not-colorful anime-themed kompeitō but you will and have never liked him for the green-eyed monster will always sit on your shoulder so long as he wears that ring on his person, a physical manifestation of his promise with Rika. Your Rika, even if that’s not really the case.

You will never like Okkotsu Yūta, because—because he—

“... What’re we even gonna do?” you ask, slowly.

He immediately brightens up.

“… Wanna get ice cream?” he offers. “There’s a new flavor I wanna try!”

His suggestion does not entice you at all, but when he stands there with an outstretched hand waiting for you to take it, like it’ll matter if you reject him, you find yourself at a crossroads. But you make your decision soon enough. Like it’ll matter, like the green-eyed monster isn’t there, staring.

“Okay,” you say, moving past him to start walking. He blinks incredulously at the blatant rejection before gathering himself and following after you, a prep to his step regardless of your actions.

You try to ignore the warmth of his body next to yours.

He’s too close.

+

“Yūta-kun’s birthday is in a few days,” Rika announces, lying on your spare futon. “Did you get him anything?”

You didn’t. “... Yeah.”

“Really? What is it?” she cranes her neck to face you. “What’d you get him?”

She doesn’t want your gift being better than hers, it checks out. “Um… just a toy. A garbage truck.”

“Oh, okay,” she turns back to face the ceiling. “I made him a scrapbook with photos of us. I worked really hard on it… do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’ll like anything you give him.”

She’s already given him a ring—what else could compare to that?

Rika smiles. “I guess… you’re right.”

Soon enough, she goes to sleep, breathing softly beside you as your fan fills the silence of the night. You continue staring at the ceiling, making out the little dents despite the lack of light. You squeeze the hand that holds your under the cover, before closing your eyes.

You hear her softly breathe on a steady beat alongside the fan whirring in the corner, and you close your eyes, squeezing her hand tighter underneath the covers of your too-close futon.

You’ll have to ask your parents for some money tomorrow.

+

“Rika-chan isn’t here again,” Yūta says dejectedly. “Her granny’s too strict.”

“She hates her,” you say quietly.

Yūta looks at you, confused. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing. Your birthday’s coming up soon, what are you doing that day?”

“Uwah—you remember?”

“Rika-chan told me.”

“Oh, well,” he smiles sheepishly, “we have school that day, but after that I’ll be celebrating at my house. I’m thinking of just inviting Rika-chan and you over… um, so, will you come?”

“I’ll go if Rika-chan is going.”

He blinks, before a smile blooms on his face. “Okay! I’ll see you, then.”

+

It happens when you aren't there.

It never should have happened at all.

Orimito Rika is pronounced dead at the age of eleven, her body unrecognizable under the heavy weight of a blue truck.

next

[hurthermore]

Hello! I found your page a few days ago, and last night, I completely binged on your Misconduct fic (I regret it sm cuz now I read it all T-T). And can I just say, wow, I think this has been my official favorite fanfic if all time. I can relate so hard to MC, and I've had similar abuse, and the way you write her is so authentic. Sometimes when fic writers portray abuse, it just doesn't ring true for me, but jeez yoir portrayal is SO fucking accurate. Anyway. Fangirling aside... I have a few questions for you!

1. Do you think part of the reason Alastor was so interested in MC is because she carries herself like his mother/has similar qualities to her?

2. Are we gonna see some of Alastor's childhood in this fic? I'm interested to hear about it since he hinted at it during the picnic.

3. (I know this question is annoying so ahndbfbfb feel free to ignore it, but do you have an estimate for when the next part is coming out? I only ask bc in a previous ask you said you like to plan things out haha)

4. Oh and! What do you think Alastor would do if during intimacy he notices MC dissociating/crying? What do you think he'd say if she voiced her thoughts about not being good enough?

Okok andjfnfn I don't wanna overwhelm you with questions so I'll stop here. But again, the way you manage to capture the abuse and the calmness Alastor brings is just- *chefs kiss* ilysm <3

Ahh tysm!!! I'm so glad you read misconduct and enjoy it so much!!<3 This kindddd of goes into spoiler territory SO.

Spoilers ahead!!

Onto your questions:

I thought I established it in chapter 10, but it will be become more obvious in chapter 11 that the reason Alastor is attracted to reader is not only because she is just insanely attractive, but because she has the same glint in her eyes that he does when he murders people; she has the ability to kill. Reader is neither elegant nor cute nor whatever, reader is your or your self insert, so whatever YOUR reader is, thats what reader is. (Does that make sense lmao??)

Honestly I wasn't planning on having Alastor's childhood in it because it would serve no purpose to the plot and I feel a lot of people would get bored if I did that. I might make him have some flashbacks of his mother, only snippets, but nothing in depth.

Honestly, I'm almost finished with this next assignment! LUCKILY ahaha. I've begun on Chapter 11, I just gotta focus on it, with the discord server and my assignment, i've been a bit too busy to focus on it. But I'm hoping to get the next chapter out by... Sunday??? Fingers crossed!!!

Ooof. He would stop immediately. If you seem uncomfortable or distressed whilst you're meant to be making love, he will stop. This will be established later, but Alastor can only kind of... get hard if you're turned on?? So yeah. He'd comfort you, asking you whats wrong, what he can do to help; he hates to see you cry, it breaks his heart! But hearing you say you don't feel good enough? He will be baffled; he's not good enough for you, if anything. So to hear you be so worried about that? He will remind you how you're a goddess in his eyes.