#why rush to fit everything into the last few days of the year

[donghyuckkies]

being a multistan is so overwhelming sometimes like what do you mean ateez comeback shinwon emotional vlive seventeen in the soop 2 hui boys planet audition tape all in one day 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[viennakarma]

Everything I Wanted III.

LESTAPPEN x READER (PART 3/FINALE)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 10k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, open ending, HEA, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are also a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is a tiny bit angsty. Maybe I should've mentioned it before, but both Max and Charles are single in this story. I'm sorry if it feels rushed or if it has any mistakes, I just let my heart go with the flow!

Find me on Twitter!

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You spend a few days in some happy daze, just shamelessly bashing in your Championship. Everyone knew because you were positively giddy during the last race week in Abu Dhabi, you were seen smiling more during that one week than you had been seen smiling in your three years of Formula 1. 

Some of the drivers were even more amicable towards you and your closest friends were even teasing you all the time, calling you Champion so they could see you blush and giggle.

“Hey there, Champ,” Lewis would greet you.

“Buenos días, campeona,” Fernando would say and laugh at your reaction.

Lando even joked to some reporter that you were in love with the championship.

There was a dinner organized by the drivers to say farewell to Sebastian. Despite knowing most drivers confirmed their presence there, you planned to go and leave early because you always felt left out whenever most drivers got together.

That’s why you texted Lewis to ask what he was wearing that night, and you ended up wearing high waisted suede pants, and a white T-shirt, finishing with a classic black scarpin in your feet and a purse. 

Since you and Nando were in the same hotel, you decided to go together with his driver. Only when you got to the car, Charles was also inside the car, and you had to sit quietly by his side, his thigh brushing yours. Nando was in the passenger seat, and you started small talk with him to diffuse the tension he was unaware was happening in the backseat. You were engaged in conversation with Nando when you felt Charles fingers touching your knee. Jolting, you immediately slapped his hand away.

“You ok there?” Nando asked from the front of the car.

“Uh, yes! Just an- annoying mosquito!” You said, faking a smile.

Charles pouted, crossing his arms and pointedly looking to the window of his side.

As the three of you arrived there, half of the grid was already there, seated and chatting. Lewis welcomed you first, warning that he purposefully invited Sebastian to arrive thirty minutes later, so he was the last to arrive. As you sat beside Nando, you noticed how Charles sat beside you again, facing Pierre across the table, and you ended up facing Max. Your eyes met, but you looked away, deciding to focus on conversation with Nando and Lando, who was in front of him.

When Seb arrived, he was welcomed with a round of applause, which made his cheeks redden a little as he laughed. The dinner went well, and you shared red wine with a few of the others, some of them preferred other drinks. It was nice chatting with everyone, and it was the first time you really felt part of the group, everyone together laughing and eating.

“Y/N, who’s your idol from this table?” Carlos asked with a smirk.

“You wanna put me in trouble,” you eyed around. Everyone knew that the people you were closest with, Lewis, Seb and Nando were your racing idols.

“Come on, your favorite, Lewis, Seb or Fernando?” Lando joined in, and the others joined too, egging you on.

“Kimi is my favorite,” you muttered before taking a sip of your wine. Everyone started shouting and calling you a liar, “fine, fine, it doesn’t mean I’m not a big fan of the other two, but growing up, I’ve always wanted to race like Fernando.”

“And now you do,” Fernando said, raising his glass in a toast, which honestly made you blush. Everyone started making fun of you because you were shy and giggly.

You ended up staying until the end, when everyone had to leave to get a good night of sleep for the free practices the next day.

Race day there was a small ceremony to say goodbye to Sebastian, and it was the only part of the week that made you a little sad, even though part of you were really happy knowing he would get to spend time with his family and dedicate himself to his projects of sustainability. When the drivers made a little corridor to applaud him, Sebastian hugged you and you felt a little teary eyed.

The race was great, and you put some effort into winning that one, because you wanted to finish the season with a bang. And a bang it was, holding the P1 trophy again, kissing it and then raising it high as homage to mom.

After the season ended officially, you went straight to Woking to visit the factory and thank everyone personally for making you a car fast enough to make you the champion. Then you had a few media commitments, had to go over some marketing and legal meetings about brands deals and whatnot interested in your image.

Finally, by the beginning of December, you went back to Monaco and slept in for a few days, relaxing body and mind.

When Lando found out you were living in Monaco, he invited you to a padel match, and despite not knowing the game very well, you never said no to any form of competitive sport that could take your mind off things.

“I’ll let you know, I’m a fast learner, Landito.” You pointed when he gave you a padel racket.

“Come on, you have 20 minutes to learn the basics before our competition is here,” he said.

“Oh, we’ll be playing as duos?” You smiled, letting him lead you to the court.

Lando taught you the basics for a while, and you were getting the hang of it when you heard voices behind you. You stopped short as you noticed your competition were Charles and Max, and as they saw you, they too seemed surprised.

“Hello,” you greeted them with a nod.

Luckily Lando didn’t waste any time with pleasantries and went straight to the game. Which was great, since that was a language you could speak. You soon noticed Charles and Max had a bit more experience than you, so you had to up your game a bit, using strategy to outsmart them.

You and Lando won three games and Charles and Max won four.

As you finished, you went to the net and shook their hands. Max stared at you intensely, but you ignored him and went grab your bag.

“You’re leaving?” Lando asked, “we were going to grab a snack after.”

“Oh, um, yeah- I gotta go, I still have a lot to do around the apartment and I’m waiting for some furniture to arrive,” you gave an excuse.

“You’re living in Monaco?” Charles asked, visibly surprised at the info.

“Yeah. So, bye. Thanks for the game.” You started walking away, but Lando jogged to catch up to you.

“Hey, uh- text me when you’re free this weekend. I wanted to talk to you privately about… McLaren” he whispered your team’s name and you raised an eyebrow, you had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but you nodded.

Lando ended up coming over to your apartment Saturday afternoon, he helped you paint your living room walls a soft green, and after you finished, you were eating a few snacks when he finally said what he wanted to talk about.

“So, I know that legally we shouldn’t be talking about it, but- for how long is your new contract with McLaren?” He breached the subject. You paused.

“What? You know my contract ends by the end of next season.”

“Yeah but- the new one-”

He silenced himself abruptly, probably realizing you didn’t get a new one. You pressed your lips in a thin line. You had a contract similar to Lando’s, that would end by the end of next year. But now- now Lando had been offered a renovation, and you weren’t.

“They offered you an extension already?” You asked, shocked.

“No- I mean- It’s just-” Lando realized by your face that he had fucked up.

“Lando.”

“Yes, from 2024 on, with possible extensions,” He said, apologetically.

“Oh” you whispered.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure they are just taking their time putting your contract together since you’re, you know, the world champion,” Lando startled rambling, until his phone started ringing, “I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’m streaming tonight and I need to set up. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sure they’ll offer your renewal soon.”

You bid him goodbye, still processing his words. You tried to be reasonable and not be upset, but the prospect of not receiving a proposal being the world champion didn’t sit right with you. You meditated, thinking to not let that get to you, but a few days before the FIA Gala, you received a proposal from Mercedes, and another from Aston Martin. Both were great, great contracts. They offered a lot of money, security and great publicity.

The night of the Gala, you went all out. Amanda helped you hire a glam team, so you had make up, hair and stylists helping you dress. You wore a silver dress, long with a high slit on the leg, black heels, and your hair was short now, shoulder length and dyed black. You wanted a femme fatale look, and that’s what you got.

Unfortunately, Kimi and Minttu couldn’t go with you, and you didn’t bother to find a date, opting to go by yourself. When you arrived at the ceremony, all eyes were on you. You posed a little by the red carpet and answered a few questions about the championship.

During the ceremony you sat with Lewis, chatting up until the main awards were called. You watched as Charles went up the stage for the third place trophy, he was handsome wearing some designer suit and tie, and glasses that made him even more attractive. He said a couple of words, before making his way down. Then was Max, wearing a gorgeous tux, perfectly tailored to his shoulders and waist. While he was talking, you fixed the bust of your dress and waited for your name to be called alongside the words world champion.

When you got to the stairs, Max was down there, and he offered you a gentlemanly arm to help you up, you hesitated for a brief second but then accepted, letting him guide you up the steps.

Your eyes were on the beautiful trophy. The smile on your face was big, almost giddy, as you went on the stage. You kissed your trophy, leaving a red lipstick stain on the side of it, and you stopped by the mic. After a brief second to recollect your thoughts, you sighed.

“Wow! It’s such an honor to receive this as a token of my hard work and all my years facing pushback for this dream,” you smiled down at the trophy, “I’ll try and keep it brief. I know I have already said some of this, but I’d like to thank my team, not only for making this amazing car that became part of me during this season, but also for giving me a chance three years ago. Thanks to Jace and Amanda, who were such great help this year. I’d like to thank Kimi for seeing me when I was on the brink of giving up and when no scouts looked in my direction, and Minttu for taking me in as one of her own,” you put a hand on your chest, above your heart as your voice choked a little, heavy with emotion, “Thank you, Sebastian and Fernando for accepting my friendship when everyone else turned their backs on me,” you found them both around the crowd, Nando sending you a wink, and Sebastian smiling wildly, “and last but not least, I’d like to thank my mum for working hard to put a roof over my head and food on the table while I was out there hustling for my dream.”

Everyone clapped and you waited for the applause to die down. You could end your speech there, but you wouldn’t be the Lioness if you did.

“Oh, and for those who said I wasn’t gonna go far… You can suck my-” you interrupted yourself, showing your tongue cheekily, making almost everyone in the room laugh.

That night you drank, danced and sang like never before. You woke up hungover and a little blacked out, not remembering the whole night, only some glimpses of it.

You stayed the Holidays with Kimi and his family, and despite being invited by Lando to a big New Year’s Eve party, you opted for a chill celebration. You still found time to send Sebastian and his family some Christmas presents and you managed to go karting with Fernando on his track in Asturias. 

After meeting with Fernando, you went on a solo trip around Spain, visiting cities and learning a little bit about history while practicing your spanish. You also tried a few hobbies, out of curiosity. You tried playing tennis, skydiving and surfing.

Soon, you were back in Monaco to resume your training for next season and traveling to Woking to see your new car. You also sat with Amanda and your lawyer, and accepted a few brand deals, one for makeup and another for a big fashion brand. You were genuinely happy with both, you always wanted to get into fashion but never had the time or knack for it, but now with your deal, they would link you to a stylist and give you outfit options.

You entered the new season fresh, feeling good not only about your talent as a racing driver, but about your looks and new style, feeling that your championship could finally back you up.

Only if the media got the memo.

“Y/N do you believe when people attribute your championship win to Verstappen’s mistake?”

You felt fire in your throat, anger bubbling up.

“No, I believe I won the championship because I drove well the whole season. I attribute my championship to myself, my talent and my hard work,” your tone was harsh, and you didn’t even bother to sound pleasant, “I wonder if this was asked to every other Formula 1 champion of the world or just me?”

You huffed, putting your mic down, and you saw Fernando leaning towards you to whisper, “it’s good to have the Lioness back.”

It was different seeing Nando wearing green now and Sebastian’s absence was noticed from day one. He had sent you a text wishing good luck in the season.

There was also a weird shift that you noticed soon, right in the first few races. The rivalry between Max and Charles had been placated a little. They were still rivals on the track, but out of it, they were seen chatting and discussing, all in good spirits and friendly. Whatever rift had caused the tension all these years was apparently mended. So now, they were only your rivals, together against the greater evil. You.

Without a win in the first three races that season, you were sure something was wrong. Could it be your car, but it could also be you.

You came out of debriefing feeling a stress induced headache starting. You walked around the paddock aimlessly, just trying to clear your head and not face any photographer or reporter. That’s why you were around the moving boxes and trucks, trying to find a secluded spot to breathe and meditate.

Unfortunately, you ended up facing two people pressed against a wall. Frowning, you tried to understand what was going on, when you realized it was Max and Charles. Their sides were pressed on each other, but what caught your attention was that they were holding hands, whispering to each other.

You paused, trying to make sense of it. And then Max caressed Charles’ jaw. Then you decided, it was none of your business whatever they did.

Turning around, you were leaving when you stepped on something and it broke loudly. You just kept walking away, not looking back, you were almost leaving the lot when someone held your wrist, making you turn back around.

“Wait, Y/N, we- we can-” Charles’ voice failed him, visibly nervous.

“We can buy your silence,” Max added, suddenly. You frowned, shaking your head.

“I didn’t see anything,” you muttered trying to walk away, but now Max also held your other wrist.

“Say your price,” Max pressed further, making you angry.

“I don’t know what kind of psycho you take me for, but I didn’t see anything,” you say, suggestively, “I wouldn’t want someone to out me, and I wouldn’t do that to anyone else either. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Fuck,” Max whispered, letting go of your hand.

“You- you promise?” Charles asked, still not letting go of you.

“I swear on my mom’s grave.” You said softly just because you could understand their fear, you knew first hand how cruel the motorsport world could be. Whatever was going on between them was none of your business.

You left without another word, hoping they believed you. 

The season kept going, and your car wasn’t as good as the year before which was really upsetting you and forcing you to work even harder to match your quality the previous year.

But also both Max and Charles stopped publicly taunting you, making people wonder if your rivalry had ended. It was annoying because that dynamic was all that you’ve known from them, and the fact that they stopped shading you because they were scared to anger you and you eventually exposed them to the world was even more annoying. You wondered if you should talk to them, to let them know it was never coming out of your mouth.

You decided silence was the best course of action. You had enough problems with your car as it was.

Before the fifth race of the season, all the drivers were called for a meeting, to talk about a few safety measures that were being put in place for paddock safety. You sat through it quietly, only listening to the FIA representative. You knew that meeting was because of what had happened to you in Zandvoort the year before, you had taken your complaints to the FIA and miraculously, they had abided by it.

You left the meeting as soon as it was over, walking away. But then, you touched your wrist as a nervous tic.

No. No.

You noticed you didn’t have your watch with you the moment you left the building, patting your pockets to make sure it wasn’t there as you ran right back to the meeting room where the drivers debrief had been.

As soon as you entered, you saw both Max and Charles checking the watch, the monegasque was the one holding it.

“Hey, uh-” you paused, trying to not sound rude, “that’s mine, can I have it back?”

Charles looked at you with that smirk as Max moved away a few steps. Charles opened his hand in your direction, handing you the watch. But as you were to grab it, he pulled back and threw it. You froze, seeing the watching flying directly into Max’s awaiting hands behind you.

“Please, don't-” you gasped as Max pretended to throw it back to Charles. But he didn’t, he just extended his open hand to you, probably noticing the worry in your face.

Skittishly, you got closer to him and grabbed the watch from his hand. He didn’t pull away like Charles had done.

But as you pulled it back, your own hand slipped the watch, and you eyed it with horror as it hit the ground immediately breaking the crystal. You felt like your heart was breaking along with your mom’s watch.

“No, no,” you whispered, kneeling down to take it back.

“Hey, what is happ-” you heard Lewis’ voice entering the room but he stopped short as he saw you almost crying on the floor. He immediately helped you get up.

Both Max and Charles were shocked, still rooted to the spot as it was the first time they ever saw you show any kind of extreme emotion, and the pain in your eyes made both of them get filled with guilt.

You stood up still holding the watch in your hand as a fragile thing, pretty much like your heart.

“Hey, kiddo. Come on,” Lewis put an arm around your shoulders, pushing you away softly after giving the other two drivers a nasty glare.

You didn’t try to get it fixed, and you still wore it even with the crystal shattered. You knew it was a relic, vintage and probably handmade since it was generations in your family. But also you were too emotionally attached to it to get rid of the watch.

After the race, once you got a P2, finally, you went to the hotel, skipping the celebration the team wanted to throw for you but still picking the bill for their night out. 

It was late at night when you were rewatching the race, trying to see whatever mistake caused you to miss that P1 that was just within reach but you didn’t manage to take it. You were taking notes, typing in your laptop, when a knock on your door interrupted. You had already ordered room service, but sometimes Amanda did it for you if she thought you weren’t eating enough.

You opened the door to be faced with Max and Charles.

“Can we come in?” Charles asked, and confused, you opened the door wider to let them in.

“We came to apologize about the watch, we’re sorry.” Max started, looking at Charles for his cue.

“That was really immature of us, sorry,” Charles added.

“It’s alright,” you sighed, a little tired, “it’s not your fault, really. I dropped it, not you.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened if we just didn’t mess around with you.”

You sighed again, despite being sad about the watch, you didn’t really blame them for it. Charles took your hand suddenly, making you stare up at them, both of them looking at the broken watch you were still wearing. Max opened the bag and handed you a small box. It was a Rolex.

“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” he handed you the watch. You stared at the box, taking it as a sign of good faith from them.

“Thanks,” you whispered, “I was just eating, you wanna join me?”

They nodded, uncertain. They followed you to the en-suite, the most recent race paused on the TV. You closed your laptop.

“I appreciate the gesture, but-” you unclasped the watch in your wrist, handing it to Charles who was sitting closer to you, “it has emotional value, it was mum’s.”

You waited as they read the inscription, Charles gasping when he realized it had way more value to you than the stupidly expensive Rolex they managed to buy you. Running his thumb on the inscription, Max looked at you.

“I know a guy back home, he- he can fix the crystal,” Max told you, “would you trust me to take it to get fixed? It’s the least I could do.”

“You don’t have to,” you shook your head, “I don’t blame you for breaking it.”

“Please?” Max asked, and something inside you spread warmth in your chest.

“Fine,” you sighed, seeing Max pocket your watch in his bag, “please, help yourselves.”

They went to the table of room service and grabbed a bit of food. They sat around.

“You were rewatching the race?”

“Yeah, I like taking notes, seeing what I can improve…”

You closed your laptop and the TV, not wanting them to check your confidential information.

“How are you feeling this year?” Max asked, awkwardly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m alright, I guess. I mean, the car could be better,” you shrugged.

“And about your mom?” Charles looked at you intently.

“It’s grief, right?” You blinked slowly, “it comes and goes in waves. Sometimes they’re tiny waves breaking on your ankles, and sometimes it feels like you’re going to drown in them.”

There’s a brief silence, but when you meet his eyes, Charles’ eyes shine in understanding.

“I know.”

Max managed to change topics, talking about the track, the race and his impressions. Was a safe topic, lighter. You didn’t notice how, but you three ended up sitting in a small circle on the floor. Max was passionately talking about track adherence, and he was so focused on his explanation that it was actually funny. You eyed Charles, and you two bursted out laughing, which made Max stop, looking at you confused.

When you stopped laughing, sitting straight, Charles was suddenly very close. Way closer than before. His face was just a few centimeters away from yours, and it made you dizzy.

You snapped your head to Max, who was looking at you with just as much desire as Charles. He nodded to you, giving you permission.

Charles held your face and kissed you, softly and tentatively. You broke the kiss, looking from Charles’ beautiful eyes to Max’s. You watched as Max shifted closer to you, holding your jaw as he kissed you too.

You couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening, but you were very shocked and equally turned on.

Max’s hand slid from your jaw, down to your neck, and you were still wide eyed, your breathing progressively more shallow. You felt Charles behind you, his hand on your waist, pressing softly. You closed your eyes as Max slowly closed the distance between you again, and you felt his lips pressing against yours. With shaky fingers, your hands trailed beneath his shirt, up his back, nails grazing his skin. While you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss, you moaned, feeling Charles leaving open mouthed kisses to  your neck and shoulder, goosebumps rising in your skin. It was overwhelming, because they were everywhere, hands, lips and bodies stealing your breath. Everything was so hot, you felt like removing your clothes and the pulsing in your shamelessly wet panties.

“Take it off,” Max breathed after breaking the kiss, he helped the monegasque, who quickly tore your clothes leaving you only in panties. Max pushed you until your back was on the floor, and he and Charles were kneeling on each side of your body. “Charlie, come kiss her.”

Charles laid down, kissing you gently first, then deepening the kiss until you were pawing his waist and torso under his shirt. Seeing your struggle, he removed the shirt himself, while Max watched, running both hands up and down your thighs. Max suddenly pulled Charles closer, kissing him, their kiss was just as hard and messy as the kisses they had given you. Seeing the way their lips explored each other made you even wetter, and you couldn’t help but run your finger above your slit, your pussy still clothed. They removed each other’s clothes very fast.

They stopped, and Max soon removed your panties, laying between your legs. You moaned as his tongue lapped at your pussy, tentatively and Charles leaned down to kiss you again. Your heart was running insane, so fast you thought it would stop. Charles went lower and mouthed at your nipples, and you reached for his cock.

“Spit,” you ordered Charles, offering the palm of your hand. A little hesitantly, he did, a glob of spit on the palm of your hand and you grabbed his cock again, and he moaned out loud feeling the glide of your hand.

You felt one of Max’s fingers inside you, twisting so good that you had to hold his head, grinding your hips into him. The pleasure of Max working your cunt was so blinding that you lost focus on the handjob, but it didn’t deter Charles, who just decided to fuck into your hand.

You looked down, just to see Max looking straight at you through his lashes. He sucked at your clit, watching you writhe and come undone, grinding your hips on his face, wetting half of his face as he devoured you.

“Charlie will fuck you now, yeah?” Max asked as you recovered, and he carried you to the couch, positioned you on his lap, facing Charles, who just knelt between your legs.

Charles filled you up in one swift movement, and you moaned at the tight fit, melting into Max just behind you, holding you firmly, one hand on your neck, the other across your abdomen. The dutch kissed your neck, biting and sucking your skin, but his eyes trained on the way Charles’ hips started moving into you, you pulled Max’s hand that was on your neck and put it over your mouth, to muffle your moans, he pushed two fingers in your mouth and you sucked. The pressure was deliriously good, and Charles kept blabbering about how good you felt, and how warm was your cunt, and you were making him feel so good, mixed with lots of french expletives. Charles pressed further, his chest against yours as he found Max over your shoulder and kissed him. You felt Max’s hand that was between your bodies, find its way to your clit, rubbing in circles and pushing you even faster to your second orgasm, drooling over the fingers he still had in your mouth, you hips shaking so much you were rubbing Max’s cock with your ass, at the same time that Charles came crashing down, filling you up as he moaned out loud.

“My turn now, yes?” Max said, repositioning you like a ragdoll, while Charles laid down, pulling you on all fours on top of him, as Max took his turn behind you.

Charles pulled your face closer, kissing you all sloppy and open mouthed as Max filled you up to the hilt, making your knees shake. As if he knew, and he probably did, Charles held your hips up when Max started pistoning into you, fucking you so good you could only hold onto Charles and bite into his shoulders to keep yourself from being too loud.

You did not sleep that night. Max and Charles’ stamina wa otherworldly, and you three kept fucking until morning came. Sometimes you just watched them, sometimes you took one while the other rested, sometimes you took them at the same time. With them, you tried more adventurous positions than you had tried your entire life. They had a different way of finding out the workings of your body, of discovering the rhythm you liked and the sound of your moaning echoing on the walls.

The second time they slipped into your room was almost three weeks later, under the guise that they wanted to give your watch back now fixed. 

After a little chit chat Max pulled you into his lap and Charles pressed his chest to your back and in minutes you three were naked, touching and kissing and moaning into each other's mouth.

It became some sort of routine, every few weeks, they would sneak into your room, and you’d bang them any way you wanted.

Then they would stay more, bring dinner or put on a movie. They would snuggle with you in bed while the movie played, Max holding your thigh softly and you playing with Charles’ hair. It was good to unwind and forget about Formula 1.

Every day, after they left, you’d whisper to yourself.

“Don’t get too attached, Y/N. They’re your rivals.”

You didn’t want to poison all the sexy moments and all the tranquility they made you feel, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get too caught up in this. It should be fun, but it couldn’t be more than that.

Racing was never a topic of conversation between you, not only because those few hours together were sacred but also because all three of you were rivals and were in different teams, which could get very messy, very quickly.

Eventually, after Barcelona, McLaren brought a new upgrade. Which for you, it was a godsend. Finally, you could get back on your feet again. The car felt lighter and you had much more control. And in Montreal, you finally got the first win of the season. A huge weight was lifted from your shoulders and you even cried a couple of tears finishing the race first for the first time that year. And it was also the first 1-2 you and Lando had ever, which was even more reason for celebration.

You and Lando ended up closing a club for your celebration, inviting the whole team.

Max and Charles were there too, and they spent most of the night in a booth, chatting among other drivers. You knew they were watching you even pretending not to, and it was a matter of time until they had drunk enough to approach you. So you decided to not stay late and just leave.

You bid Lando goodbye quickly, telling him you were tired even if it was relatively early for a clubbing night. As you made your way to the most discreet exit, you felt a hand on your forearm, pulling you to a corner, and you were faced with both Charles and Max.

“Leaving so soon, chéri?” Charles asked, eyes glossy and probably a little tipsy.

“We came here to celebrate you,” Max said, one hand going around your waist. Wide eyed, you immediately pushed his hand away, taking a step back. They were confused.

“Not here. Too public, someone might see us, or even take pictures.”

“Don’t be like that, there is no one around now,” Charles pointed around, and granted, it was really empty on that side of the club, but anyone could walk in any moment.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, “not in public.”

“You’re ashamed of us?” Max squinted, looking into your eyes.

“I never said that. I can’t risk anything happening to my image just because I wanted to screw someone.”

“So that’s how you see us? A good fuck and nothing else?” Max pressed you further.

“Again,” you repeated slowly, your patience running thin, “that’s not what I said,” there was a tense pause and you pinched the bridge of your nose, “look, we all had more than enough to drink, and this is not the moment or the place for this conversation.”

“No, no,” Charles shook his head, “I believe you made yourself clear enough.”

With that, they walked away clearly pissed with you. Going back to the hotel, you knew there was nothing you could do at that moment to change their minds. They wouldn’t understand your point of view that easily, not only because they were drunk, but also because they weren’t a woman in Formula 1. Everyone fed off your failures like vultures, and if it leaked that you were going out not only with one, but with two other drivers, you knew you could kiss your career goodbye.

The media was never the kindest to you, and the majority of the fans weren’t either, so you knew how it would look if anyone found out about you three. They already call you slut without any knowledge of your romantic history, they would ruin your life if they were to know. And most certainly question not only your seat in Formula 1 but also your World Championship.

You just hoped you could explain that to Charles and Max when they were with clear heads.

Only you didn’t.

They never came back to your room, nor did they answer your texts.

Two entire weeks passed with only anguish gnawing at your insides, trying to reach them privately, but failing miserably. They were not only ignoring you, but also avoiding you. You couldn’t take it anymore, so in Austria, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You’d corner the first one you saw.

And that was Charles right before the drivers parade. You were the first ones to get there, which gave you some sense of privacy, well, as much as you could.

“You need to listen to me, this is a misunderstanding, Charles.”

But he straight up ignored you, not even bothering to look in your direction. With a heavy heart, you nodded, moving away from him. Making peace with the fact that maybe this was the end of your little affair. They had not understood you, and had ignored all your efforts to explain, closing the door of whatever was going on.

Resolute, you decided that maybe it was for the best. If they couldn’t understand where you were coming from, then better say farewell already. But you couldn’t help that anguishing feeling in your stomach.

It showed to be true during the race, when you were P4 fighting to get into the podium at least. Max was P3, and he fought tooth and nail to not allow you to pass, even if you had the pace to overtake him. You tried a risky move, one you had learned from Fernando Alonso. Pretend you’re going to overtake on one side, let him defend that side, then push your car to the other side and dive for the position.

You almost did the full move, but when you were going for the position, Max just pushed his car into your side, which caused you to lose control and you spun to the gravel. You just decelerated as much as you could. You left the car and went back to the pits with the help of marshals. You didn’t bother to even look into Max’s direction, feeling your eyes getting teary. You weighted with your helmet on, and only took it off inside the garage, because you didn’t want people to see you cry.

It was relatively normal to DFN because of a crash, and given the history of rivalry between you and Max, it was also very common to collide with him. What made you upset wasn’t him protecting his position, but him purposefully taking you out, like he was just getting back at you because he was angry. You had left enough space for him. Despite the overtaking maneuver being a little risky, you never once got close enough to him that you could cause an accident. He had not slipped and lost control. He had not tried to avoid you. He just ran straight into your sidepod.

“What happened today?” A reporter asked you when you went to the post race interviews.

“What is there to say? I think the images speak for themselves.” You shrugged, feeling tired but not wanting to give the media too much as to not cause a PR nightmare to Amanda.

“Seems like the FIA will investigate Max Verstappen because of today’s incident.” Someone else mentioned, and you couldn’t help but scoff.

“I’m sure they will,” you muttered, voice laced with sarcasm.

The debriefing was just as bad with your Team Principal calling you out in front of the whole team not only for damaging your car but also for putting yourself at risk like that.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I did what any other driver would do in my position!” You sighed trying to calm down, “don’t make me quote Ayrton Senna to you. If you no longer go for a gap that exists, then you’re no longer a racing driver. You and everyone saw that Verstappen didn’t have the pace to match me, so he just plunged into me to take me out!”

God, you needed an ice bath. And maybe a new punchbag.

You were getting ready to leave when Max came up to you. You didn’t say anything to him, you honestly didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. You just wanted to go home and cry under the shower.

He was red in the face and looked distressed. You couldn’t help but feel defensive, holding your bag to your chest.

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” you said, trying to walk away but he blocked your path.

“Listen,” he started and the moment he raised his hand to remove his cap, it triggered you, and you flinched as if he was gonna hit you.

He stopped immediately, because he knew that was a trauma response. He knew that him being angry must have reminded you of your father growing up. He knew all that because he too, sometimes, had this kind of knee jerk reaction.

But you felt sick to your stomach. It wasn’t intentional, but it made you look like you believed he would’ve hit you, and rationally you knew he wouldn’t do that. But your stupid body did.

You avoided Max and walked away as fast as you could.

Back in the hotel you just packed your bags and left, going straight to the airport to fly back to Monaco. You were exhausted by the time you made it home, but you still took a shower and cried a couple of tears under the streaming water.

In bed, you tried to convince yourself this ending for your fling with them was for the best. It was too complicated anyway.

And you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t miss the feel of Max’s lips against your neck, or the feel of your hands pulling Charles’ hair softly. Or the way Charles used to mumble French mindlessly whenever he was concentrating on something. Or how often Max would do his maxplaining with his vast knowledge of the most random topics.

Your body was so tired but your mind just did not shut off.

You were a couple of hours into staring at the ceiling when the doorbell rang. Carefully, you went there, it was the middle of the night, so you checked the door camera to see both Max and Charles by the door.

Slowly, you opened to them. You swallowed, waiting for them to say something. You felt so vulnerable, this knot in your stomach had been tormenting you since the day they walked away.

“I’m- we’re really sorry,” Max started.

“For ignoring you and mistreating you and never once giving you the chance to explain your side,” Charles took a small step inside.

It was like a dam broke, and you ran into their embrace, sobbing. All three of you hugged, Charles with a comforting hand on your back and Max kissing the side of your head. They patiently waited for you to calm down, and then closed the door and walked you to the sofa.

“I missed you,” you murmured, holding Max’s jaw to peck his lips, doing the same to Charles, “I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Can we talk?” Charles asked, “you said it was a misunderstanding.”

You nodded, taking your phone from your room. You sat on the coffee table as you gave them your phone with your instagram profile opened.

“Check the comments on my last post,” you pointed and they sat side by side scrolling through it, the horror on their faces getting worse every second they kept going.

You knew the kind of comments you had on your profile. Hateful, hurtful comments. It had been that way since you made it into Formula 1.

“What a slut” “I bet there’s a reason why Charles hates her” “She never deserved that championship! #Retire” “Ugly bitch” “Whose dick she had to blow to get a seat?” “Overrated dumb whore” “I bet she tried to fuck her way through the grid, that’s why most of them hate her” “Max should’ve crashed into her harder”

It was nothing new to you, Kimi and your PR team had prepared you for years for this type of treatment. And you honestly had grown used to it, learning to ignore.

“This is disgusting, Y/N!” Charles exclaimed, trying to put the phone away, but Max snatched it back, still reading the comments.

“That’s just a regular Monday for me,” you shrugged, “I’m not trying to victimize myself or anything, but-”

“You are a victim, this is not okay!” Charles said.

“What I wanted to say is, I can’t risk us going public. This is what I face just for doing my job, and it would get so much worse if people ever found out. They already believe I fucked my way to the top, to them, we would just confirm their suspicions,” you felt Charles holding your hand for comfort, “it is very different for a woman. And I adore what we have, but I can't put you above my career and my dreams.”

Max extended his hand to you, and you grasped it, letting him pull you to sit between them. Charles kissed your cheek.

“We would never ask you to do such a thing,” Max said.

“I’m sorry we didn’t see what you are going through with the media and our fans.” Charles muttered, pulling your hair back with a hand, and holding your waist with the other.

“We missed you,” Max whispered against the other side of your neck.

In a couple of minutes they had you spread open on the sofa, Charles’ head between your legs and Max’s lips latched on to your nipples. They made sure to apologize orgasm after orgasm, cooing your moaning mess and kissing you stupid.

Routine went back to normal after that. You still didn’t name your affair and decided that for now, it was better this way.

With the upgraded car, you actually managed to pick up the pace and find yourself rising up the standings.

Silverstone was promising, being one of your favorite tracks, and one you knew you could win again this year. You did great both of the free practices, trying to keep your focus now more than ever, to get a chance at the championship again. There were specific races that you’d amp up your security team for safety, but Silverstone wasn’t one of them.

Qualifying day, you went to the track early morning, to meet with your team, talk about the results of free practices and your input. As you walked to your garage quietly chatting on the phone, you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you aside. You yelped, jerking around and you ended up facing the person. A man, and it took you a couple of seconds to recognize all the gray hair, but the evil eyes were still very much the same.

It had been more than a decade since you saw your father for the last time. Gasping, you took a step back to walk away, but he gripped your forearm, forcing you back.

Funny how fear worked, you hadn’t seen him for years, and you always imagined that now that you were all grown up, you’d be fearless, a big girl, brave and face your father head on. But it wasn’t how things happened. Immediately your fight or fight kicked in. Your eyes darted around, trying to catch someone you knew or someone from security.

“Let. Go.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Is that how you greet your father?” He said, and you pulled your hand from his grasp.

“I don’t have one,” you spat, anger rising in your chest, hand in hand with fear. You wanted to bolt, to ban him from your life forever, to cry and shout all at once.

“I made you. I spent thousands investing in your career so you could be here, a little gratitude would be good,” he said with a fake smile, and it disgusted you.

“I’ll never attribute my success to you, you disgusting piece of-”

He held your face with a hand, pressing your jaw with such force that it made you stumble a step back. You gripped his wrist, trying to pull away but he pressed your face harder, pressing your head against the wall.

“Very careful how you speak to me!” He rasped, gritted teeth and all, “you little shit, you think you are better than me? I turned you into who you are! The least you own me-”

“I owe you shit!” You said, and spat on his face.

“I gave money and a house to that whore you called a mother-”

You snapped, getting a hold of the fear, and you punched him in the face, hard enough for him to get away and you get space to run. You took one single step when you stumbled into someone, and your eyes found Max.

It was a brief second between looking at you, looking behind you and recognising your father. Recovering from your punch, your father tried to get to you again, but Max stood between the two of you, pushing your father’s chest so he stumbled back. Charles arrived soon after with security, as Max explained that this man was to be escorted out and never allowed to come back.

“Chéri, are you ok?” Charles asked, seeing you taking a step back and leaning against the wall.

You nodded, trying to talk but your voice caught on your throat, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your legs gave in and you slid down until you were sitting on the floor.

“Amour, talk to me, hey-” Charles was worried, you were pale and shaking. Max also knelt down beside you, holding your face to try and see if your father had hurt you.

“Get him out,” you said, and Max nodded, going to talk with security.

“Amour-”

“Guys, there’s cameras around the corner!” Lewis showed up out of nowhere.

“I’m fine,” you managed to blurt, holding on the wall to stand up.

“Hey, hey-” Charles tried to hold your arm but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, walking away back into the garage.

Your mind was spinning, all over the place, and through text you told Charles and Max that you were fine and wanted to be alone. The qualifying was a shitshow. Your mind was completely all over the place, and even making it to Q2, you couldn’t go farther than P14, it felt like the car wasn’t responding to your commands.

You came out of qualy completely pissed. At your father, for showing up and ruining your good streak of races. At yourself, for letting him get to your head, for still giving him so much power over you. You walked away without a second thought, went to your room and kicked your boots off.

Press talk was another shit. You couldn’t pay attention to most questions, gave monosyllabic answers, and couldn’t explain why your qualifying performance was so bad compared to the rest of the year.

You just apologized to your team during debriefing, and silently acquiesced to whatever the strategy for the race was. Kimi had texted you asking about what happened, you didn’t want to talk to him just yet.

You were getting ready to leave for the day, when Fernando came into your room.

“I don’t want to talk, Nando,” you held your bag, not even bothering to look at him.

“Good, because I do the talking then. Go, sit down.” He pretty much ordered, his face stony and serious in a way you hadn't seen before. “What happened today?”

“I’ve got a lot going on,” it was all you said.

“Your father showed up, messed with your head and with your confidence,” Fernando said, with the certainty of someone who knew you really well. You wondered if the whole grid knew about your father’s presence today. You gulped. “Look, this is something you will master with time, but I’m going to tell you now. When you put your helmet on and get in the car, you’re a racer, nothing more. Your problems, your worries, they stay back and they never cross your mind for the entirety of the race. Out on the track, you’re one with the car, doing your best is the only thing that matters.” Fernando pressed his index finger softly to your forehead, as if he was quite literally putting it in your head, “Clear. Your. Mind.”

You sniffled, wiping the one tear that came down. Fernando’s face softened, but you knew he wanted only the best for you. And he was right. You kept giving your father this power. You handed him the power. You couldn’t keep letting him get away with it. This was the one thing you knew you were good at, your calling, your destiny and all your hard work. And you’d be damned if your father would keep a hold over your life.

“Clear my mind,” you inhaled, nodding.

You did your best to study your strategy for the day, to focus on what you could do to achieve the best result. 

Early the next morning, you went to the FIA, to request access to the camera footage to find images of the altercation between you and your father the day before. The representative you talked to was initially reluctant but once you told him what had happened, he was quick to help you. You explained that it was for the better that none of that came to light, and hopefully you could get your father to be completely banned from Formula One. The representative prepared a report and assured you that your complaint would be taken seriously and they’d work on the matter as fast and as discreetly as possible.

You went to meet your team and go over and over plan A, B and C. When you got in the car, ready to race, you still hadn’t talked with Max or Charles, and you were hopeful to catch them after. Attaching the helmet, you breathed in, slowly, remembering Fernando’s words.

Clear your mind.

You raced like there was no tomorrow, only thinking of the next turn and the next car you had to overtake, you didn’t think of who it was or when, you just did it. In the future, that race was going down in history as a masterclass in overtaking and taking every little opportunity thrown your way. The time passed really fast, and when you came to be, you heard Jace screaming in your ears that you had made it. You had made it to P1 and taken the checkered flag.

Your voice was shaky as you thanked the team and Jace on the radio.

When you left, running towards your team, they congratulated you and despite the great desire to run towards Max and Charles, who were on the podium with you, you somehow managed to find Fernando. You ran towards him, jumping in his arms, not even minding the way your helmets hit with a loud thud. He hugged you, removing your feet from the ground.

“Thank you! Gracias, muchas gracias, Fernando!” You shouted hoping he could hear you with both visors up.

He patted your shoulder as you had to run back to get weighted and to post-race interview. 

“Wow, I’m at a loss for words right now! You were a true Lioness during this race! Can you tell us what happened after the difficult Qualy yesterday?” Jenson Button was the one to ask.

“I was in a difficult place yesterday, and I’m very thankful for a pep talk Fernando Alonso gave me, that helped me get back into my jam!” You said, breathless, wiping sweat from your forehead, “I’m also grateful to my team for making the car that matched my energy and focus today!”

“And what did Fernando tell you?” Jenson asked, probably out of curiosity.

“Well, I can’t go out telling my secrets, can I? My rivals are all around!” You winked, and left a laughing Jenson behind.

In the cooldown room, where Max and Charles were already watching a montage with all your overtakes on a screen, you walked up to Charles, taking his hand. He looked a little concerned as you had agreed to keep your relationship private. Max joined, patting a hand on your back, and the three of you made a little triangle.

You looked at them with so much adoration, that it hit Max right in the chest and he wanted nothing more than to hold your face and kiss you silly. Charles held his breath for a brief second, being in the moment with the two of you.

“You were brilliant, today,” Charles muttered, low and hoping no mic would catch the sound.

“Unbelievable, Lioness.” Max also said with a discreet wink, then taking a step back and interrupting the moment.

That wasn’t your first podium, nor your first win, but something was different when you kissed the trophy and raised it to the sky. You felt like you’d taken back control of your life and your career. There was nothing that could actually stop you if you put your mind to it, and you knew now. You shitty father couldn’t squander your dreams when you were fourteen, and he couldn’t do it now either. You were so much bigger than him, greater than that pathetic man could ever be.

And you didn’t need him.

You had a mother that, despite not being there anymore, but she’d always be in your heart, a constant source of strength and faith. You had Kimi, who believed you when no one else did, who put his own hand over fire for you. You had Fernando, Seb and Lewis, your idols in this sport, and such good friends. You had Charles and Max, your lovers, and hopefully your future.

That night, as you were laying down in your suite, sandwiched between the two men that stole your heart, came the email with your renewal contract proposition. A five year offer, possible extensions, to make you the face of your McLaren.

You made love with Charles and Max with renewed energy, enjoying yourself and the feel of their love for you. It was just the assurance you needed to say the words.

“I love you. I love you two very much,” you whispered, running your hand through both their hairs, “I can’t promise much right at this moment, like a normal, public, relationship yet, but I do love you.”

“We know. We love you too.” Max whispered and Charles took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“We love you too much to risk you facing awful dangerous things just so we could call you ours publicly,” Charles agreed.

That year, you didn’t get a second championship as you had dreamed, but you proudly stood with your P2 trophy during the FIA’s Prize Giving Ceremony, your chest swelling with pride as you watched Charles’ beaming face with the P1 trophy.

There was some renewed sense of purpose in yourself as you held the trophy, and in your heart, this one meant just as much as the champion trophy you had gotten the year before. This year you had overcome all the demons that had controlled you for a long time, this year you had not only learned to live with the undying love for your mom, but you had also learned about new forms of love. You had somehow rekindled that love for racing, for believing you were the best and could prove it amidst adversity.

And of course, many adversities were still to come, but now you were sure you had in yourself the power to face them.

When the next season started, you had your eyes on the prize.

Even spending a great amount of winter break with your boyfriends, they were still your rivals on track.

You were fixing your suit on the pitlane when they walked up to you.

“I hope you know this championship is mine,” Max said with a smirk. You caught his playful tone fairly quickly.

“Well, I am the current champion of the world, so we’ll see about that,” Charles crossed his arms.

“Boys, no crying when I leave the both of you eating dust, yeah?” You added, biting back a giggle.

“Baby, go easy on us,” Max joked, and you shook your head.

“Never going easy on my rivals,” You added with a whisper, “not even when they’re my handsome boyfriends.”

“See you after the finish line,” Charles winked, and they both walked away.

“Hope you enjoy the view of my rear!” You said, and they left, laughing.

Always rivals, but much more than that.

NOTE: If you want to know why I chose to end the story this way, or have any questions about the characters future, or any random headcanons, drop by my inbox and I'll try to answer most! Thank you so much for the support in this little adventure! Thank you to everyone who dropped a little ask/message asking for more, I'll try and answer you if I haven't yet! (also, sorry if i missed any tag)

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[thesparklingwriter]

an unexpected surprise

tags: smut, omegaverse, afab! reader, omega!reader, alpha!zhongli, consensual somno, pet names, reader is in heat, zhongli is in rut, reader pregnancy in afterword, idk if genuine excitement to start a family counts as breeding kink, I STILL think this is somewhat fluffy if not vanilla

word count: 4k (side note what the fuck)

a/n: is celeste doing a good job of hiding the breeding kink or no

masterlist | taglist

It’s scarily easy to forget, you concede. It’s too easy to just question why your stomach is killing you all of a sudden. Or why that stack of pillows in the living room is calling out your name like a record player on repeat. Or why letting Zhongli go on that work trip last week almost made you want to fall to your knees and beg him not to.

But once you realise it's your heat breaking, it's almost like your body doubles down. With Zhongli returning from his trip within two days, there’s really no point in worrying him with the information. His ever-righteous alpha urges would have him running home in a heartbeat, and you can't be responsible for that. 

So you call in sick to work for the next week, and if anyone knows why, they don’t question you, and you resign yourself to a horrible few days by yourself. You wear Zhongli’s clothes in the hopes that enough of his scent is left behind to cool your impulses a little. Still, it’s only so long before silk is the only fabric your clammy skin can bear, and since his pyjamas have been freshly laundered, there’s really no point in even trying. 

You reluctantly switch to your own clothes again, a silk night dress you've adored since the day Zhongli bought it for you, and focus on building a nest in the spare room to distract yourself. It works so well, in fact, that you wonder how Zhongli will ever fit between the pillows you've piled up —you subconsciously only made it big enough for yourself. The spare room is good because it's the smallest—in fact, it's so small that calling it a room is almost an exaggeration. It was initially an overzealous store cupboard that you ended up forming an affinity to during your heats, and while it was never a badly kept room, Zhongli couldn’t bear the thought of you using a cupboard when you were most vulnerable, so he had it remodelled. It was worth it to him, even if you were only using it 6 times a year.

This would be the third out of six heats this year, and you congratulate yourself on making it halfway through the year without keeling over and calling it quits. But making it through this one would be tricky. One of the many advantages of married life is not having to go through heat alone, and if Zhongli doesn't return home in time, you might explode.

You try to sleep off the anxiety first, surrounded by cooling silk sheets and everything in the house you can find that smells like your alpha, and it works for the first few hours of the night until a heat cramp rips through you and stirs you awake. Zhongli is many things, but above all, he is a doting alpha, and since he has your permission to help you in any way he sees fit during your heats, he has a very good way of satisfying that part of you before a heat cramp can even manifest itself. But since you haven’t experienced a heat cramp to this extent in what feels like years, you find yourself doubled over and whimpering in pain. The waves of agony even have you forgetting how it was that you managed your heats before you found Zhongli and his cool hands and doting kisses and perfect co—

It doesn’t help to think about him, you realise, as another wave of pain shoots through you. If you can make it downstairs to just grab a hot drink, maybe your symptoms will subside enough for you to just take matters into your own hands like you used to, and then you can decide how you want to proceed. So you wait until the waves of pain are retreating, and you take the opportunity to rush downstairs and rifle through Zhongli's stash of teas. He has labelled them meticulously, and even in your dazed, heat-addled state, you know to not disturb it too much. 

You find one that seems to be labelled appropriately and do the worst job of preparing yourself a cup to drink. You know he'd have an aneurysm if he saw you, but times are tough, and he’s not here to help you. He would probably be even more offended by the way you chug the drink, not even pausing to appreciate the notes and intricacies of the flavour as you trudge back upstairs and hope you find the energy for one orgasm to get you through the night.

It's tricky during this phase. Your body only desires carnal pursuits, but your mind is so riddled with anxiety that it feels wrong when you slide your underwear down past your knees, and your other hand gently brushes your nipple. It feels awkward to slip your fingers between your legs, to pretend that it's him who’s fucking you with his fingers, but it works, so you can’t complain. You tell yourself that you’ll clean up before you fall back asleep, but the hours of no sleep are catching up to you, and you fall asleep as you are.

When you wake up again, it's not from a heat cramp or because you need to use the toilet, it's because your heightened senses can hear the front door opening. You take a minute to listen before you panic—Zhongli isn't supposed to be back for another day, but when you realise that it's his steady but hurried footsteps that you hear, the tension leaves your body, and you relax. You don't have the strength to go to him, so you just hope that he finds you here, and he does.

He pushes your door open and glances inside, spotting you curled up in your tiny nest, stressed and anticipating another wave of pain. He feels horrible.

“Oh, my love,” he whispers, walking over to you and taking you in his arms. He carefully nips at your scent glands first and is relieved that from the way you smell, you're in your late preheat, so even though you may have suffered up to this point, it hasn't been the worst your body has to offer. A grateful hum slips from your lips as your eyes close in bliss, and his cool hands against your stomach seem to calm the heat cramp that was building up. “Love, why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were coming back anyway,” you reply, clutching at his shirt and capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss. “No need to bother you.”

“There was every need to bother me,” he whispers, gently adjusting the pillows around you on the bed and stripping off layer after layer after layer. He starts with his gloved hands, and the sight has you clenching on nothing, but you're just happy to finally have him to yourself despite your frustration. “You’re my wife, my mate, my omega. It is my job to take care of you. First and foremost.”

He reaches under you to pick you up, but you protest, grabbing his forearm. “I don’t want to move.”

Zhongli is hit with this unyielding wave of desire, so much so that he has to swallow his thoughts of you round with his child down before he speaks.

“Little love,” he shoots back, gently stroking your hair. “I have to take the contraceptive. Should I leave you here?”

“Don’t,” You say. You’d agreed that the next time your heat and his rut coincided, you’d be more thsn happy to explore the idea of having a child, but with the painful realisation that it might not sync up as fast as you want it to, you’re not holding out on luck.

“Beloved,” Zhongli shoots back, devastatingly beautiful, as you pull out the ribbon that holds his hair back. The image in his mind from earlier shoots back into his mind as he quickly contemplates whether he can take your words as they are, given the stage of your heat. If you were further along, you might say anything to get him inside of you again, but right now, he doesn’t think that’s the case. He takes your hand and gently kisses the inside of your wrist, a familiar action that makes you smile lightly.

“Don’t take it.” you repeat. “I don’t want you to take it.” You gently tug the ends of his hair to pull him closer to you, suddenly over-aware of the fact that your scent glands are begging for his attention. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to have regrets later,” Zhongli says quietly, and this time, when he leans in to nip at your neck again, something in his scent tickles the back of your throat, rich and almost spicy, and it makes you cough. His eyes shoot up to yours as realisation dawns on the both of you.

Zhonglis ruts are less common then your heats, with him experiencing only four a year compared to you. And if the last time they coincided was 2 cycles ago…

“Hm,” Zhongli mutters as you pull him into your nest. “That seems to explain things.” He had returned home early from this work trip for a multitude of reasons. At first, it was your reaction to him leaving, and then it was the dreams and constant thoughts of you that proved difficult to handle during important funeral proceedings, and then it was the thoughts of how you would look pregnant the moment he realised you were in heat. He should have realised sooner, instead of ignoring it and letting you suffer thus far.

“Sleepy?” he asks you, as you bury your face into his chest. But the most you do in the way of a response is make a soft humming sound, your omegan senses calmed by the knowledge that your alpha is close. He is upset by the fact that you didn't feel you could reach him when you needed him, but he knows now you need him more than you need an ultimatum. But for the next few hours, it seems like it’s just a waiting game. He is grateful his rut hasn't set in fully, or else the way you nuzzle into his chest might have driven him half crazy.

He gently strokes your hair, unable to tear his eyes from you for a single second—not only because you're the epitome of beauty to him, but also because he has been away, and he wants to take stock of everything. You once joked that he’d probably notice if a strand of hair on your head went missing, and although he’d laughed it off, he wouldn't be surprised if he could.

Your scent slowly begins to shift to something more sweet as you claw at your husband. You're not awake yet, and you won't be for a while, but you’d given Zhongli explicit permission to do whatever he needed to keep you happy during your heats, and he is always eager to please.

Even still, Zhongli takes his cues from you—if you’re grabbing at his face, he’ll kiss you for as long as you want him to, until you escalate things in your heat-addled slumber. And you do, breathy moans punctuating the kiss until you can take no more, and you're grabbing at his hips.

“What do you want?” Zhongli whispers, as he gently rolls you over onto your back. He’s been ignoring his almost painful hardness in favour of doting on you, but he refuses to forgo his manners the moment sex is on the table.

You whine at him, clawing at him some more, and he chuckles, gently pulling your nightgown up to your waist. He clicks his tongue at the sight of you, practically dripping for him, your underwear nowhere to be found, and as much as he wants to dip his tongue into you, he knows it's cruel to play with you in such ways.

“I know, love. I know.” He whispers to you as he gently enters you. You’re so wet that there's almost no resistance, and the breathy moan that slips out of you is almost too much for him to bear. His mind is almost immediately flooding with thoughts of fucking you into the mattress until you’re both so tired that it will take days to recover, but he would never do anything like that unless you were awake. He may have your permission, but he has his own morals.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers as you pull him closer, your head thrown back in silent bliss. Your response is in the way you clench around him, the slight whine in your quiet moans, and the way you dig your nails into his back. Gods, he loves it when you do that. And although it drives him near crazy, he keeps a steady pace until he feels his knot growing. He nips at your scent glands again, using the opportunity to whisper in your ear—filthy words that have you orgasming almost involuntarily, and the way you clench on him as his knot settles into place triggers his. 

He pulls you to the side so the both of you can lie down comfortably, and he is convinced that the satisfied look on your face as his knot keeps all of his cum safe inside you is enough to keep it there for another half hour. 

His estimations turn out to be correct, and by the time you begin to stir, his knot is still going strong. He talks to you as you wake, gently reminding you to not move too suddenly. You’re dazed but, more than anything, grateful for him as you pull him tighter.

“Thank you,” is the first thing you say when you wake up, gently planting a kiss on his cheek. The action, albeit mostly innocent, makes his cock twitch inside you, and you've regained enough of your sanity to laugh. “Rut?”

“It seems so.”

“Did you…?” your question trails off as if the process of asking is too tiresome for you. If he had, you would understand, but your anxiety is understandable. If he had taken it, it would mean you would both have to wait again, and Zhongli would be lying if he said that the idea of being a father would be unfavourable to him.

“As per our agreement, I did not.” 

The smile you give him is so… perfect that Zhongli has to look away before his knot returns with a vengeance, and he opts for pulling you into a hug, the cold silk of your dress against his chest. He wants to bathe you before the next round of cramps set in, otherwise, you will be clammy and irritable, and he learned very quickly that you cannot bear any discomfort that he cannot fix by fucking you during your heats.

He wants to run a hand over your belly, but decides against it, for fear of jinxing things, instead settling on pressing multiple kisses to your head. 

“How do you feel?” he asks you. He’s not entirely sure how far into your preheat you were before he returned home and he’s worried that he hasn’t been able to help all of the symptoms as a result.

“Warm,” you whisper. “How come I’m still wearing this?”

“As you remind me every cycle, doing anything but what an omega in heat explicitly asks of you is essentially torture. You didn't ask me to take it off, so I didn’t.”

You pout at him, and he laughs gently at you. His knot has deflated, so he slowly sits up and pulls you into his arms. “Will you fight me if I offer to bathe you?”

You shake your head no, lifting your arms above your head as he carefully drags your nightdress off. He decides to save himself the hassle of trying to get it completely clean and just get you a new one.

The minute your skin is exposed to the cold air, you wrap your arms around your chest, and Zhongli takes personal offence to that, kissing your arms until you move them, and then kissing your breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipples. From the way your nails dig into him, he realises that's just about as far as you’ll let him go with the teasing, so he picks you up and takes you to the bath. It’s easy when you’re as pliant as you are now—any attempt you make to push back is easily combatted with words of praise and a gentle kiss to your head, and before you know it, you’re clean and dry and pressed up against your lover’s cool skin.

“Are you still certain about this?” Zhongli strokes your hair again, gently scratching your scalp in a way that sends satisfying shivers down your spine. “I can still take the contraceptive if you want.” 

“No. I want this with you,” you reiterate, pulling him into another kiss. You expect him to kiss you back softly, the way he usually does, but the fact he’s in rut has slipped your mind, and the way he captures your lips in a fiery kiss has a wave of need rushing through you. You gasp at the way his teeth graze your neck, the way his hands rest against your skin, still so gentle despite the fact you know he wants to be anything but.

A heat cramp comes over you so suddenly that Zhongli barely has the chance to register the change in your scent, but he’s quick to respond to your whimper. It’s cheeky of him, he knows, but he gently slides a hand up your thigh and lets it play with your clit for little more than a few seconds. Judging by how drenched you are, if he’d allowed himself to play for any longer, you might have taken matters into your own hands.

Zhongli whispers your name, although it comes out as more of a growl than a whisper, and you know he’s asking for your permission to take you the way he wants to—the way he craves. And even though he knows you’ll be fine, in fact, when you’re in heat you’re most compatible for a mate in rut, he feels the need to check. So when you reach for him and bite on his neck as hard as you physically can, he takes that as an okay.

It takes every single piece of patience he has to gently place your legs over his shoulder, and slowly sink himself into you. It takes even more for him to maintain a slow pace when you’re looking up at him like that, even more so when you moan his name in the breathy way he loves so dear.

“Safe word?” he asks through gritted teeth, and only when you repeat it back to him does he let himself relax a little. He slides a pillow under your hips, before whispering: “Brace yourself, love.” And even though he warns you, you’re still shocked by how hard his next thrust is—if you hadn't been in heat, it probably would have been enough to send you over the edge. His hands grip your waist so hard that in the back of your mind, you're convinced that it’s going to bruise, but the rest of your thoughts are blank, a dull hum in your head where words are supposed to be.

“Are you still alright?” he asks, as he moves his hands from your waist to your wrists.

“More. please, more,” you reply, and he obliges, quietly pleased with the way your pleas shift from words to loud moans and desperate whimpers.

“You want me to breed you, don’t you?” his voice is impossibly steady, his eyes trained on you in a way that stops you from looking elsewhere, even after he thrusts into you so hard that you want to throw your head back. Your whispered please is so faint that he almost doesn't hear it, but he does feel you clench desperately around him, and he's almost disappointed that he’s knotting you so soon.

The way you look at him is unfair. The way you scream his name as you orgasm is unfair, the way you close your eyes in bliss as he cums inside you is so. Fucking. Unfair. How is he ever supposed to win against you? You could ask him for the world, and he would create it for you.

“Is it safe to assume you’re satisfied now?” he asks you when you’re once again capable of speech.

“For now,” you respond. And even though you know it's bad to keep things from him, you don’t tell your husband that you don’t feel another heat cramp for the rest of the week.

~~~

“It has been less than a second since I stepped over the threshold of this house and you are already jumping on me.” Zhongli laughs as you barrel into his arms. He notes you smell different, but he can’t pick up what he is. As he picks you up, he thinks that you're slightly heavier than usual, but that could just be his muscles being fatigued from moving packed boxes of paperwork all day.

“You’re home early,” you smile, looking down at him. He manages to get his shoes off and walk you over to the living room, where you curl up next to him on the sofa. You have been increasingly affectionate as of the last few months and increasingly horny too, but you have those phases every so often, so Zhongli does not question it.

He very quickly realises you’re wearing the replacement of the silk nightgown he got rid of during your last heat. He made sure it was a one-to-one replacement, but it fits differently on you now. Not a bad difference, it’s a perfect difference, he concludes.

“I missed you, my love.” he kisses you softly. “More than should be humanely possible.”

“I missed you more.” you grin. You sit between his legs, your back against his chest, your head tilted lightly to the side so he can kiss your neck the way he always does. But this time, he hovers before he kisses you, and you use his sudden pause to take his hands and place them on your belly.

Zhongli’s smile is peaceful. he likes the quietness of being with you, especially when youre so soft against him, and you smell so…sweet. sweeter than usual. more perfect than normal.

he blames his reignited obsession on his rut somehow. it isn’t his first, obviously, but it’s the first time he’s been able to truly spend it with a partner. he doesn’t know what else to blame it on, nothing else has changed.

except for when the fruit vendor looked at you the wrong way and he almost wanted to rip the man’s throat out. or when then bakery didn’t have the bread you wanted, and it made you cry and he wanted to destroy it there and then. and maybe crying over the bread was a little melodramatic, but it was about the time where your heat returned, so he couldn’t judge you.

but he could judge himself for wanting to resort to such barbarism.

“how have you been, love?”

“tired. hungry. bored.” you retort, your hands falling over his on your belly.

“then we should find something for us to do.”

“i think we should look at remodelling the fourth room,” you grin, “it’s going to be a really boring 6 months if we use your idea of fun as a bench mark,” you sigh.

“The room that conjoins ours?” Zhongli replies, ignoring your mild insult. his body seems to understand your words faster than he does, as his thumbs gently start rubbing your belly. “so you don’t want an office anymore?”

Your husband's brain has been replaced with a rock, you decide. 

“Li,” you sigh. “how you have survived so long whilst ignoring your instincts is beyond me.” you tilt you head up so you can look at him as you deliver the news. “i’m pregnant.”

You feel his breathing pause for a second, and the silence that descends between you is warm and comfortable as the words register.

“You’re…” Your husband is speechless. He sits up slowly, his eyes trained on you.

“mmhmm,” you reply, as he gently cradles your face and kisses you softly. it’s only when he pulls away from you that you realise he’s crying.

“oh, my darling,” you smile, pulling him into another hug. “you’ll set me off.”

he pulls away to look at you, eyes shining with unshed tears and eternal love.

“i suppose celebrations are in order,” he says quietly, pressing kisses into your hair, your cheeks, and your neck as you giggle at him. "I am certain you’ll be a great mother, deserving of every praise.”

You smile. “And you’ll be a great father.” you reply. “The best father our child could ever ask for.”

© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.

notes: i have plenty of things to blame this on but I wont even start. can smut be fluffy...? is that a thing? is this enough to make u guys forgive my absence ?

[bucketsofmonsters]

Deep Water - Part 4

cw: the ocean, animal carcasses, rotting, malnourishment, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 3k

read on ao3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

You woke up disoriented on an unfamiliar floor, the steady sounds of snoring filling your ears. 

You turned to see Finn, still fast asleep as you rose from your little spot on the floor. He was bundled up in blankets, his head just barely peeking out of them enough to breathe. 

You didn’t want to bother him. He’d done so much for you, the last thing you wanted to do was to disturb his rest. 

In your attempt to begin to get ready without disturbing him, you managed to get your feet tangled in the loose blankets below you and tumble back to the floor.

You quickly righted yourself just in time to see Finn begin to shift, waking fitfully. 

He groaned, eyes barely peeking open to look up at you. “Is… Oh. I forgot you were here.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He tried to wave dismissively but in his half-asleep state, it looked more like he attempted to clumsily swat a fly out of the air.

He rose from the bed slowly, a little unsteady on his feet.  “I’ll find you some clothes.”

You took him in as he moved to the drawers beside the bed. He was a little scrawnier than the average man working on the docks and only a few inches taller than you, but still, you were sure that his clothes would fit you awkwardly, if at all. “You really don’t have to do that, my clothes are mostly dry now.”

“Nonsense, I have just the thing for you.”

And then he pulled out a dress, a practical one with reasonable skirts and allowance for movement. A dress you’d seen before. 

You reeled back a little as you asked, “Why do you have my sister’s clothes?”

It came out harsher than you’d intended it to. Maybe the shock was to blame, you weren’t certain. 

He deflated at your words, crumpling in on himself, his shoulders slumping as his face fell. 

“I should have told you,” he said, visibly mortified. “I know I should have. You just… you look just like her.”

The realization hit you instantly. “You two were…”

“I wasn’t trying to replace her,” he said, rushing in to cut you off. “I mean, I couldn’t replace her even if I did want to. It was just… it was nice to see you. I could almost pretend, just a little.”

The more he tried to justify it, the more your heart sank. “How long were you together?” you asked, your voice flat and distant.”

“Years. She was everything to me.” His voice was low and sad, sadness that you were sure was for her and not for you, standing betrayed in front of him. Why would it be for you? How selfish could you be?

You almost wished he’d yelled at you. Then maybe it wouldn’t make you feel so bad. He seemed devastated and apologetic and all the things he could be and yet now that you knew you could just tell. You could see him looking at you like you were her, with faux, unearned affection in his eyes behind the heartbreak. 

It made you furious. You wanted to throw something, to shout at him, to demand to be seen as a person, to be removed from her shadow. 

But he was grieving, just as you were. Probably more. 

The least you could to was be kind. 

So you gave him a half-hearted, soft pat on his shoulder and tried to paint as much sympathy accross your face as you could manage.

“You didn’t mean any harm,” you said, and you knew it was true. 

It still stung. 

And then you took the dress from his hands, his grip softening as you reached for it, and you left. 

You found an empty room to change in and went off to work as quickly as you could.

The next few weeks passed quickly, settling into an easy routine. Without Finn hovering over your shoulder as you worked, you were free to move quickly and mindlessly, doing your job exactly as intended and no more. 

You stopped by to see Simon almost every day. The days you couldn’t, held up late at the docks, he no longer threw a complete fit. There was huffing and pouting but he hadn’t kindaped you again and you considered that progress.

In fact, after the stunt he’d pulled, he seemed hesitant to even get near you, like even his presence was tainted now. He was more careful than he’d been, asking before he did anything. 

You supposed it was preferable over the alternative. 

You and Finn had grown distant. He was clearly trying to give you space but you couldn’t quite breach that gap and bring yourself to talk to him so instead you let him fade away, sharing quiet polite smiles when you saw one another and nothing more. Your only real friend here now gone. Other than your monster that you still caught glimpses of below the docks, no matter how many times you warned him that it was ill-advised.

You didn’t mind going to see him. There was very little understanding between you but it felt nice, having him so eager to meet with you every day, shifting uncomfortably in shallow water that he braved for you. 

It had been a bad day. 

Nothing had happened, not really, but that awful ship was back. Every time you saw it, a wave of nausea overtook you, brought back to you kicking and screaming on the deck, inhaling rain as you huffed in breaths. 

Finn had shot you a concerned look or two as he apparently read your nerves off your face, but he had kept his distance, respectful and stomach-churning. 

You wanted him to come check in on you, something he clearly wanted to do, but you still refused to go speak with him first. You couldn’t do it, couldn’t return to him like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, offering yourself as your sister’s replacement if he’d just speak to you.  

So instead, at the end of an awful day, you scurried off the docks to your spot, content that you’d at least get to see your siren. 

On the shore, where you usually sat, lay the tail end of a sea lion, bloody with bones sticking out, looking almost rotted.

You looked into the water to find amber eyes staring back at you, wide and expectant. 

You knew instantly he’d brought it here, though you couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t a fresh kill, instead looking like it had been pulled off a beach somewhere where it’d washed up. 

A sense of shame flickered in his eyes, fighting back a grimance as you noticed it. 

“Do you want it?” he asked, head nodding towards the carcass.

“No,” you said, and he reeled back, not looking surprised but seeming upset all the same. 

“It’s the best I could do,” he said, eyes downcast. “I’ve been trying to find something better but I’m not built for this.”

His voice was tinged in a sense of bitterness and frustration and you wished you knew what he was talking about so you could comfort him. Or at least understand why he was upset. 

“Built for what? Why is this here?”

“It was supposed to be food,” he said with a huff. “I have nothing for you. I can’t provide you anything.”

“Provide me… You don’t need to provide for me, I can get my own food.”

“You shouldn’t have to. I want to… I want to show you I can keep you safe but I can’t. Couldn’t even keep you fed.”

As he spoke, you really took him in, sitting behind a rotting carcass that wasn’t fit for anyone to eat. 

What had he been eating if after weeks, this was the best he could bring you?

And then it struck you, the way he’d begun positioning himself in the shallows, stomach carefully down, arms in front of it, shifted away from you. 

“Come here,” you said, trying to keep your words soft. 

He looked like he was about to cry but he shifted forwards all the same. 

You fought back a gasp as he finally let you get a good look at him. 

He looked emaciated. Where soft, plump skin used to be, it instead had begun to pull taught over ribs that looked sharper than the human ribs you were accustomed to. 

With the new context, you could see it in his face too, his full cheeks beginning to bow in.

“What happened to you?” you asked, cursing yourself that you could have missed this, could have let him keep his distance and hide this from you so easily. 

“I’m not good at hunting,” he said, rufusing to meet your gaze. 

“You were fine before, what changed?”

He shifted and you could see a war waging inside his head, the conflict written accrosss his features. 

You waited, owing him patience at least. 

Finally, he seemed to come to a decision and he spoke, still sad and low but with a sense of finality rising behind it. 

“We’re not hunters, we’re not built for it. Not fast enough or sharp enough. We’re built to lure in prey but… you’re a person. If I hadn’t stopped to talk to you, you’d just be gone, drowned and devoured, and I wouldn’t even have known that it hurt, let alone… I can’t do it anymore,” his words had shifted from sad and low to frustrated and sharp. “I can’t hunt so I can’t eat fish but I can’t do it anymore. Every time I look at them I keep just seeing you.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes at the thought that you had done this to him. The revelation that he’d been eating humans fell by the wayside at the sight of sad eyes on a gaunt face that used to be warm and soft.

And you couldn’t even do anything about it. You didn’t have the resources to get him fish, not after the measly few weeks you’d spent here. You had barely managed to find yourself lodgings in a grimy old inn, barely eating enough to keep up your strength. 

But you had to. You couldn’t just leave him to this, in this situation that you’d dragged him into when you’d gotten thrown off that ship. When on the worst day of your life, he saw easy prey in front of him and decided to be kind. 

And then an idea came to you. An awful idea, sure, but the only one you had. 

You muttered a quiet “wait here” before you stood up and sprinted back to the dock, knowing you had to catch him before he left. 

Finn’s face lit up when he saw you nearing him, relief pulling the tension out of his shoulders and bringing a soft smile to his face. 

You grabbed his hand and with a soft noise of confusion escaping him, you dragged him down to your isolated little spot on the beach. 

The whole time you pulled him along, as he followed you without question, you tried to think how to explain any of this to him. 

You kept moving as you wracked your brains, needing to solve this, needing to know it could be fixed, and you came up with nothing.  

Anything would be better than just bringing him in blind, a fact you realized seconds too late, arriving at your spot on the shore. 

You saw the panic in Simon’s eyes seconds before disaster hit. Right before Finn noticed him, he was being snatched into the water, pale arms hooked under his armpits, holding him down in the shallows. It seemed mainly like shock and confusion that kept Finn down. Submerged in deep water he wouldn’t stand a chance, but here, in the shallows, against a malnourished and emotional siren; he could’ve taken him easily.

But he didn’t, instead thrashing a little with eyes wide and he tried to take in the simultaneous facts that sirens were real and that one had just dragged him into the water. 

“He’s here to help, drop him,” you snapped, shooting a harsh look at Simon. 

“I didn’t even do anything wrong,” he said, a grouchy look crossing his face as he let Finn go, drifting nervously back into the water. You recognized it for what it was. He was preparing for his escape, just in case. 

You didn’t blame him for the instinct. To be honest, it was a good one. Blind trust like that in anyone could get him killed. 

You hoped this wouldn’t be one of those times. You hoped you’d prove him wrong. 

Your hand snapped out to grab Finn’s wrist as he tried to stagger away, eyes wide and frightened.

“Finn,” you said, keeping your voice measured and level. “This is Simon. He’s a friend.”

You didn't think you'd ever seen such panic and betrayal in his eyes, his face normally light and happy. He was breathing heavy, eyes darting between the two of you like he couldn't quite believe he wasn't about to get pulled back in.

Finn looked down at your hand encircling his wrist. He tested his strength against yours, almost pulling away before deciding to let you keep him there. Ever patient, he didn’t take the out, he didn't run. He waited, by your side, nervous but steady.

His breaths slowed, taking stock of Simon in the water.

You weren’t sure who looked more frighted, both sizing one another up, ready to bolt should the need arise. 

You left them to it, terrified that any sudden movement would shatter the tentative peace that was forming between them. 

He nodded slowly, eyes not moving from Simon, shivering slightly in newly wetted clothes. “And why exactly,” he began, eyes locked onto Simon, “did you want me to meet this friend of yours?”

“Um. So he wants to stop eating people,” you said, wincing as you heard yourself and the reality of what you'd just said sunk in.

“He eats people?” Finn asked, his voice spiking up in panic as his head whipped towards you.

“And he would like to stop. If we can’t help him, what do you think he’s going to start doing again?”

“It’s not my fault!” Simon huffed from the water. “The fish don’t hate you for eating them, why do you get to be mad at me?”

“The fish aren’t people,” Finn insisted, arms wrapping around himself as he shivered in the cold air. 

“And you aren’t sirens. I thought you were stupid anyway, like fish.”

“You thought we were like fish?”

Simon shrugged. “Not like fish. But the difference from you to fish is like the difference from you to me. Or… I thought so. We might have been wrong. I don’t know, I just eat.”

He seemed uncomfortable with having to explain himself, shifting in the water as he glanced at you every few seconds. 

It took a moment for you to realize what he was looking for. It was approval, you could see him searching for it in your eyes. 

You weren’t sure you could give it to him. Your stomach churned at his words but you could feel how earnest he was, could hear the confusion and distress in his voice.

He hadn’t thought he was doing anything wrong. Why would he? He was just doing what sirens had always done and now he wasn’t so sure about it any longer and his whole past was filled with deaths he didn’t know if he could justify anymore. 

How would you feel, you wondered, if you met a fish one day and that fish told you it was afraid? If it told you that it told stories to its young about your kind and how they’d snatch it up and cook it over an open flame. 

Would it be your fault? Would those deaths be on your conscience?

Would you ever have the presence of mind to see a fish, alone in strange waters, and save it? Could you even do what Simon had done, take that first step?

Your heart hurt for him, alone in his crisis, with no one to talk to about it. His only options were his kind that depended on these horrible deaths to survive and you. And his prey. 

Finn pulled you aside, far from out of Simon's earshot but it seemed to settle him a little bit to at least feign privacy. 

“What do you want me to do here?” Finn hissed.

“I want to help him. He saved my life and… and even if he didn't, is this not for the best? He wants to do better, we can't just not help him.”

He nodded, hesitant but willing. “Okay, so what now.”

“I don’t know. He can eat fish, we know that for sure. Maybe other food too? Do you think he can eat human food?”

Finn pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I don’t know. How would I know? I guess I can get him fish, we could sneak a couple out and buy some before we leave at night. Would that be enough?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea.”

He sighed. “Great."

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this, I just didn’t know anyone else I could go to.”

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s the least I could do. Now, I’m going to go scrounge something up, you keep your little siren company.”

You shot him one last grateful look before settling down on the beach, water lapping at your shoes. 

Simon pulled himself out of the water a bit, trying to get closer to you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. 

You took his hand from where it lay, shifting nervously over some rocks, and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

“I know.”

[mydarlingclaudia]

she’s demonic and bloody, but she holds me tight

note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. this fix does have dark content in it if you don’t wanna read I understand <3 I also wrote this based off the song In My Room by Insane Clown Posse. I also got kinda in the flow when I was writing this idk if it really fits the song but I like how this turned out but the end is like really really rushed bc I didn’t know what to do :)

wc : 2.9k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart @rigorwhoring @cigarett3wif3 @bonesnplywood

desc : a college kid with a social life that's almost non-existent figures the dead girl that comes to his room every night is his girlfriend, some say that's a bad thing, he says it's everything he could wish for. who cares, anyway? it's not hurting anyone! well, not yet, at least. there's an endless list of things he'd do for you, you don't even have to ask. but why won't you come back after he takes care of a problem that would have torn you away from him? you love him, right? not-really established relationship (idk how to explain it), a bit suggestive, Leon is kinda gross, necrophilia, gore, au, fem!reader, re2r!Leon

back to the party <3

“You gonna let me in…?” Your voice is muffled from the glass pane of Leon’s window, chipped fingernails tapping against the surface. Of course he’s gonna let you in, when was the last time he had ignored you? You’ve completely fucked over his sleep schedule, you’re too good to turn down.

He’s lucky that he has the whole house to himself, it’s been like this since he started college, even if anyone is there, you’re always quiet. Leon was lucky enough to have some rich uncle that pitied him after the death of his parents and gifted his summer house to Leon so he could stay there for college. He doesn’t talk to a lot of people, he’s got a few friends around campus and he tutors the kid next door, but outside of that he’s alone, no one comes over outside of family.

You came along about halfway through his sophomore year of college, he was scared of you at first, who wouldn’t be scared when you wake up to a corpse knocking on your window? But he gave you a chance, best decision he’s made in years.

You… were something special. Not a zombie, Leon’s sure you would’ve cracked his skull open and torn his brain apart with your teeth by now if you were, he would’ve let you.

You poor thing, your boyfriend killed you when you tried to break up with him in your senior year of college, Leon must’ve been seventeen when it happened, it had been all over the news. Leon’s not sure why you came to him, you never told him, there are a lot of things you don’t tell him, he’s not sure where you go when the sun rises, either. But you’re the best part of his days, the lamp in his room is always on at night just so you know he’s home. He hasn’t even gone out to any parties because he doesn’t want to miss a visit from you, hardly even stays out past ten if he ever does manage to get out of the house.

“Leon, I can see you.” Your voice is a bit harsher, your palm comes down against his window and Leon finally tears himself from his homework, spinning around in his chair to smile at you.

He stands from his chair and takes a few steps to his window, it’s never locked, it doesn’t even have the screen anymore, he just has to open it for you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The smile that immediately blooms on your face makes his whole month, Leon offers his hand out to you to help you climb into his room, your rough, cold palm slides against his, you stumble slightly. Leon’s hands soon find their way to your sides, his face almost hurts from how much he’s grinning.

“Hey,” Your voice is always raspy, it’s prettier than any song he’s ever heard. You always wrap your arms around him when he welcomes you in, this time is no different, one of his hands take place on your lower back, the other on the back of your neck over your matted hair.

“It’s cold out, do you want a sweatshirt?” He knows you don’t need one, but he’s been dying to see you in one of his favorite hoodies, he doesn’t even care if you get dirt all over it. You just shake your head and bury your face in the crook of his neck, he chuckles. “I gotta do some homework, do you want to sit with me?” You nod again and unravel your arms from around him, he pulls up his chair again to sit and pull you down onto his lap.

You love this, you crave this, found a way to weasel your way into this life even after death. You really weren’t trying to go for Leon, the night you emerged from your grave you just stumbled down the street, looking for a light in the window, you don’t know why. The only light on had been Leon’s, he was pretty enough, at least he didn’t call the cops when you climbed up the tree in front of his window and started knocking.

He loves you, you know it. You don’t know how or why, but God, do you love this feeling. You’re able to pretend for a few hours that you’re back to being a normal college girl, that your blood still runs through your veins and your boyfriend didn’t go nuts and stab you. You love him too, you guess.

You even help him with homework and projects sometimes since you took those same classes, you always hated it when you were in school, but you had a cheat sheet for half the shit Leon brings back from class in the back of you brain, why are you even able to remember that? Leon always holds you as close as possible, you're not really sure how he can stomach having you so close all the time, you knew he'd have you naked more often than not if you would let him see you like that, the closest he's even gotten to seeing you like that is when you took off your dress so he could stitch up the re-opening stab wounds that were scattered across your abdomen.

But he loves it, for some reason. He doesn't mind how rough your skin feels and how tight it is against your rotting muscles, doesn't get weirded out when he plucks a bug from your hair, somehow Leon loves when the two of you make out.

It’s a win-win, Leon gets you, you get Leon. He buys you cute things, short skirts, pretty tops, you play dress up for a few hours before you pull the blue dress you were buried in back on and leave for the day, just to come back and do it again the next night. He’s got a dresser drawer full of girly clothes that you only wear sometimes, he’s lucky he never has friends over.

Don’t even mentions the hickeys he lets you leave on his neck, those are the things his friends see and tease him about, interrogating him about who his secret girlfriend is. You don’t think he minds, he’s never complained when you sink your teeth into his throat and suck and bite until the blood vessels under his skin start to pop. Leon does the same to you, anyway, it’s only fair.

Leon doesn’t like when you’re in the house but not with him, if you get up to go wash the dirt off your skin in the shower, he trails after you and sits on the sinks countertop until you’re done. He’d join you if you let him.

Leon will never tell you this or even ask, but he wonders if you died a virgin. I mean, there’s no way, right? You were so pretty, alive or dead, he’d be lying if he said that he never thought about having sex with you. Who wouldn’t think about that? Theres no judgement from him if you’re a virgin or not, but maybe one day you’ll take his virginity. Maybe? He’ll take the dry humping for now and keep his hopes up.

Outside of wanting to have sex with you, Leon loves to hold you. You fit on his lap perfectly and your face always finds a way to the nape of his neck, you always cling to him like your limbs are still stiff and tight from rigor mortis and you’ll take him back to your grave with you.

—

You’re back again, shocking. Leon’s got you on his lap with your chest pressed to his, his fingers dig into the cold flesh of your thighs to slowly rock you against him as you nip at his lips whenever you pull away from one of your heated kisses, barely giving him time to breathe.

You have to leave soon and Leon has to start his day, the most sleep he gets is four or five hours the second he gets back from school, you come around midnight, who needs sunlight? He doesn’t spend most of his days out and you never do, Leon could live in total darkness and be fine with it so long as you stay.

Leon’s shaking a tiny bit underneath you, it’s always like this when you slip your tongue a bit further past his lips, you can’t taste anything but Leon loves the way you taste, good thing he’s not vegan. Though, Leon can’t really focus on kissing you back, you feel more tense than normal, your voice sounds choked when you talk now.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you and you huff. Leon’s hands instead move up to your hips, stopping his rocking.

“You okay?” You nod.

You’re not really okay, you were trying to avoid Leon asking you this because you knew he’d react badly. The kid he tutors next door saw you walk down the street, you even fucking made eye contact with the kid and kept walking until you were at the tree in Leon’s yard. You didn’t know if he was gonna tell anyone or just try to ignore you, play it off as a drunk girl not knowing what she’s doing. But you knew he’d tell Leon the next day, Leon always told you the kid liked to gossip. Even if the kid didn’t talk, you probably shouldn’t come back, at least for a little while.

“Sweetheart,” His hands squeeze your hips, you sigh and sit up straight. “What’s wrong?”

“I- that uhm, the kid next door… H-he saw me.” Leon’s eyes widen and his hands grip you harder, it doesn’t hurt but you feel his fingernails dig into your skin.

“What?” You’ve never heard his voice so flat, you chew on your bottom lip and look away from him. “He saw you?”

“Leon, he knows.”

“What? He can’t know, it’s not like… It’s not like it’s obvious that you’re dead.”

“Leon, be serious, it’s weird enough to see someone stumbling into your neighbors yard in the dark, but when they look like they’re fucking dead then that’s something else.”

“Baby-“

“He’s gonna tell someone.”

“He won’t,” A dry, humorless chuckle comes from his mouth, he shakes his head. “He’s not gonna care, the worst that’s gonna happen is he’s gonna tease me.”

“Yeah? What if he tells his parents? What if he tells his friends? Then what? He’s like, what, twenty? He doesn’t care if you ask him not to talk about it.”

“We’re gonna be fine,” His hand comes up to your face, brushing over your bottom lip and pulling you back down to his slowly. “Why would he give a shit?”

“I’m not gonna come back for while.” You announce, stopping a few inches from his face. You don’t want to talk about this anymore, you just need to do your own thing, you have all the time in the world to wait and let this simmer down. If Leon loves you, then he’ll wait, too.

“What?!” Leon bolts up, pushing you up with him. “No, no, no, no, you don’t gotta like, leave leave, okay? I’ll- I’ll take care of it, I’ll talk to him. Baby, please.”

“I don’t know, Leon.”

“We’re gonna be alright, I promise.” He kisses you again and your shoulders tense. “Okay?”

“… The sun will be up soon.” You mumble, leaning back from him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He sighs and runs his hands along your arms, looking over your face to try and determine what you’re thinking. “I love you.”

“Love you,” You mumble again before you stand from his bed and make your way back out his bedroom window, you glance back at him, he’s smiling, somehow.

Once you’re gone, though, Leon flops back against his bed, his hands coming to his hair to pull at the soft strands, he's never been so nervous in his life.

“Fuck.”

—

Leon’s not proud of what he’s done, but he did it for you, so it’s not bad, right?

He really did mean to just talk things out, tell his neighbor that you’re his girlfriend and that you come up through the tree in front of his room because it’s faster.

But the kid had already told his parents, thankfully none of his friends, though. Leon didn’t know what to do, because soon the neighbors would tell his uncle and then he’d start asking questions, and then eventually his neighbor would tell his friends and then Leon’s friends would find out and- he panicked. What else could he say?

Leon came back to his neighbors later that night, maybe ten, ten thirty? Who cares? The thing about his neighbors is that the parents loved him because he was willing to spend two hours of his day tutoring their son who got into school mostly due to his parents, why wouldn’t they give him a spare key to the house?

He didn’t use a gun and he didn't go bare-handed, he’s not completely stupid. Leon just... came in through the back door with one of the knives from his kitchen and got to work. Leon hadn't thought a whole lot through besides his alibi, he'd just say he was sleeping, he's a college student, aren't you supposed to get sleep when given the chance?

But now his hands were covered in blood as well as his clothes, he made sure not to get any on his shoes, he'll just wash whatever became bloodied. And if he couldn't wash the blood out, he could just feed it to the fire pit, maybe a tie dye shirt wouldn't look too bad on him, he's thinking red and black.

He's not used to the feeling of someone else's blood coating his skin, did you know what that felt like? No, that blood had been your own, but still, maybe you could've told him it would be warm. And God, the fucking stench of it, he's gonna scrub his skin raw when he gets back home.

Leon doesn't expect you to come back to him that night, though he still really hopes that you do. But while he waited, he cleaned. Did his laundry, washed the knife, looked for any splotches of blood left in his yard that would be seen as an immediate red flag, he even kicked in the glass back door of his neighbors house for good measure! He probably wouldn't have slept, anyway, the adrenaline of puncturing a soft body with something he uses to cook is still running through his veins. He wasn't too worried about the other neighbors, most of them were old, it was well past their bed time.

Was Leon disappointed when you didn't show that night? Of course. But if you needed a night to try to gather your thoughts then what kind of boyfriend would he be to not allow you that space?

And it was no surprise when the cops showed up at his door the next morning, Leon had gone through this situation over and over in his head the whole night, he just needs to play dumb and be polite.

"No, officer, I didn't hear anything last night, what's the matter?"

"I don't know anyone who would do something like that to that family! That's just awful!"

"They've never upset me, and even if they did, I wouldn't kill them over it!"

"Damn, do I need to get security cameras or something, officer?"

Of course the police told him to get the security cameras, it’s no big problem for him, no one has to protect him, he’s just waiting for you to come back. Maybe you’ll even stay longer once you do finally come back to him, there’d be no one to worry about, so what’s the problem?

—

Leon doesn't get it, it's been almost a month now and you're still not back. Why is that? Did you just not know what he had done for you and decided to wait a bit longer? Maybe he should've known that the girl who got fucking stabbed to death wouldn't like him killing a family for her, God, did he scare you off?

He went to your grave, it looks normal. He'd never gone now because he had no reason to, but the soil wasn't loose or anything. Should he try to dig you up? No, that would get him thrown in jail in a matter of minutes. You weren’t even showing up on the security cameras the cops advised him to get,

Leon can't stand it. He misses you, is that really so bad?

How long were you planning to stay away? Did you just break up with him without even really saying it? Was killing his neighbors worth it? It's like you've just vanished! What does he have to do to get you to come back?

The pictures he has of you - from when you were alive, newspaper clippings of your obituary and your memorial service after the funeral - don't sit right with him anymore. He's had them since you started coming over, he just wanted to know more about you, but seeing you smiling at him through the black and white paper doesn't sit well in his stomach.

What's he supposed to do with your clothes? He misses you, why can't you just leave him a note explaining things? And he can't even tell anyone. He's worried about you, what if something happened to you?

But he waits, like he does every night.

And he waits, then waits a bit longer, then waits even more, and a month turns into four way too fast.

Where are you?

Leon swears he can hear the tap tap on his window, but when he looks, you're never there. Now he has to deal with the weight of murder on his shoulders while the cops are still out looking for the killer. Were the cops why you weren't coming back?

This is unbelievable, didn't you love him? If you don't come to him, he might have to come to you... somehow. He'll figure it out, he's pretty sure you're meant to be together.

Come on, don’t you know he’d die for you? Leon can’t wait for forever.

[stevesjockstrap]

kinktober 5: Corroded Coffin/Steve & group sex

Rated E • Corroded Coffin polycule + Steve • famous Corroded Coffin, regular guy Steve, no UD, indeterminate time frame, implications of free use, double penetration

Suggested by @fuctacles

Corroded Coffin had always been close; maybe a lot closer than anyone would’ve expected. No one remembered how it had started, really. Just a bunch of dudes stuck in close quarters together for too long, especially in the early days where groupies were unheard of. Guys messed around with their friends, helped them out, right?

Eddie knew what they had was taboo, and of course this unspoken thing continued after the band had hit it big, hiring assistants and management, through relationships and falling outs. The band knew they always had each other. That had worked for them for so long, why stop now?

Until Steve Harrington crashed into his life, uprooting everything Eddie had thought possible. He was nobody, just a normal man who worked a boring office job. They’d crossed paths randomly, at a hotel where Steve was attending a work conference. Eddie had made a fool of himself, unable to speak or make sense, mystified at the beautiful man in front of him.

The band laughed at Eddie falling so hard so fast with this regular guy, figuring it would burn out as fast as all of their attempts at separate endeavors always had.

Eddie soon learned that Steve was very needy, and found the idea of others joining them more than appealing. He wasn’t put off by Eddie’s shy admission of the band mates helping each other out. It wasn’t the dealbreaker it had been in the past. Eddie, and everyone else, were pleasantly surprised.

He had talked Steve into taking a sabbatical at work to join the band on their international tour. He’d finally caved, as there'd be no way Steve would survive without his boyfriend for the months they’d be gone. The few days or weeks in the beginning of their relationship had been unbearable for him.

The boys were even more hyped up than usual after the show tonight, rushing through meet and greets. It may have had something to do with Steve waiting for them in the green room in only a pair of baby pink panties, cock hard and plug already in place.

Eddie smirked at him, taking his time as he licked across his sensitive nipples while Drew pushed into him from behind. Steve’s own dick was engulfed by Jeff’s skilled mouth and his hands were working Gareth’s hole and cock. They had all perfected their roles, the boys knowing what each other wanted before they could ask for it. And Steve fit in quickly and immediately, completely uninhibited and giving as good as he got.

Eddie usually found himself hanging back, wanting to watch them take Steve apart and then use him to exhaustion. Steve was the most insatiable person Eddie had ever met. He’d come again and again and still cry and whine for more. Jeff and Drew were mostly useless after coming once, so then it was up to Gareth and Eddie to work him to completion.

Not that anyone ever complained.

Once Drew was snoring on the other couch and Jeff was chugging a bottle of water, Eddie slid into his twice-filled hole as Steve bottomed out into Gareth.

“Oh shit, baby. You love being in the middle, huh?” Eddie gasped as he clenched around him.

“Love all of it,” he murmured, starting the rhythm of their thrusts. He cried out as he fucked himself back and forth between them. Gareth was unusually quiet, and Eddie realized Steve’s fingers were shoved into his mouth.

“Gareth really wanted Steve to fuck him, but he said he didn’t want Becky to have to listen to his wailing. Her room is right next to us here,” Jeff explained.

Eddie chuckled, sucking a dark bite into Steve’s shoulder.

Their publicist had put up with a lot the last few years. She really liked Steve, probably because he was so easy going and friendly. Being gorgeous probably helped, but Steve always tried to help out with whatever Becky needed.

Gareth reached up to pull the fingers away from his mouth to grumble, “Don’t know why you have to suck up to her, you’re already her favorite.”

They both fucked forward hard at the same time, making Gareth cry out loudly. Proving his point, Steve shoved three fingers back in, snorting at his choked off noise.

Gareth came quickly after that, rutting back to try to make Steve come first but Eddie pushed two dry fingers in alongside Steve’s cock as Steve jerked him off. He didn't stand a chance.

“Want me all to yourself now, princess?” He teased as they switched positions, Steve riding him fast. His cock was hard and dripping, bouncing with him as he sunk down onto Eddie. They both jolted as Gareth decided to get revenge by pushing his own thick fingers next to Eddie’s cock.

“Yesss,” Steve whined. “More, Gare. That’s- oh fuck. Shove your cock in too.”

Eddie laughed but Gareth spit into his other hand and worked himself back to hardness. He pushed at Steve's shoulder to get him into a better angle, holding himself above Eddie’s chest. After only a few moments of rubbing his cock between their bellies, Steve came again, easing the way for Gareth as he slowly pressed in beside Eddie’s cock.

The tightness around his cock was insane. But looking up at both of their faces was better. He’d never seen Steve like this before, eyes unfocused, keening loudly as he and Gareth found a rhythm to fuck into him together.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot,” Jeff groaned from his seat, leaning forward unabashedly staring at where they were all connected.

Steve pulled away a bit, and Eddie stilled. But he only pushed up on one arm to reach back with the other, teasing his fingers around the stretched skin. The other two groaned with him.

“So fucking full, oh my god,” he nearly shouted.

Gareth giggled and shoved forward roughly, making all three of them cry out. When he continued, Steve was the one making all the noise. So much for not pissing Becky off.

They both had the same idea, both of their hands coming to cover Steve’s mouth simultaneously.

“Gunna come, Gare, oh shit,” Eddie warned.

“Me too.”

Eddie reached one hand to pull at the hair at the base of Steve’s skull, bringing him in for a filthy kiss as Gareth pulled Steve’s hips back and forth. Steve came again, squeezing impossibly tighter around them, Eddie swallowing his noises as they continued fucking him through it.

He felt Gareth’s release hot around him before he succumbed to his own climax.

When he’d caught his breath, Steve was laying on his chest, a satisfied sort of smirk across his face.

“We are definitely doing that again,” he mused.

“Oh, you are trouble,” Gareth responded where he was sprawled on the floor a few feet away, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead as he panted.

Insatiable as always, Steve somehow conned Eddie into eating out his abused hole in the shower until he came twice more.

They bought flowers and a bottle of wine for Becky, who only avoided eye contact with them for a couple days afterwards.

Dividers by @/steddiecameraroll-graphics & @/fuctacles

[writerbugg]

Good Luck

Chapter # 5 Cinematic

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

Wattpad

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 (You are here), Chapter 6

The whole tradition of cinema is dominated, really, by films about good guys versus bad guys, good versus evil. But we have very few films about the nature of evil itself. - Joshua Oppenheimer

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Jon lies on his bed, staring at nothing in particular. It had been a few weeks since Y/n went with the Waynes, and he had to admit, the apartment felt empty without her.

Shifting around, Jon reaches for the picture frame on his nightstand. A soft smile spreads on his face as he looks at a seven-year-old Y/n standing with the Justice League, a contagious smile on her face.

"I wonder what she's doing now.."

──●◎●──

Y/n stands at the front doors of the manor, watching as Clark pulls into the driveway, discomfort bubbling in her gut.

Something told her this meeting wasn't going to go well.

"Y/n!" Clark quickly exited his car, rushing to Y/n and scooping her into his arm. "Oh Y/n, I'm sorry the others couldn't come and visit. They were too busy with work and school, but if the chance arises, I'll make sure they make it next time." Clark reassured the girl.

"Oh uh, that's good, thanks," Y/n muttered, leaving Clark's grip.

Clark frowns at Y/n's distant behavior, shooting a look at Bruce before smiling again. "I'm here to spend time with you Y/n, maybe try and jog your memory..." He reaches into his pocket and grabs two movie tickets. "See! I got us tickets to your favorite movie!"

Y/n takes one of these tickets. 'The Incredibles' strangely fits in this world.

A sigh resonates from behind Y/n, Bruce frowning at the two of them. "Clark, you know I can't let you do that. It's too soon to be trying anything yet."

Clark glares harshly at Bruce, "I don't see how you can stop me Wayne, and I'm pretty sure I know what's best for my kid."

Grabbing Y/n's hand, Clark drags her back to his car, ignoring Bruce's protest.

Clark makes Y/n sit in the front seat before going around the front and entering the driver's side. As if trying to comfort her, Clark gives Y/n a side hug as he leaves the Wayne manors driveway.

──●◎●──

Minutes go by in uncomfortable silence, the radio station humming some random song quietly, the low hum of the car engine filling the space between them. Clark, gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes darting from the road to Y/n. She was staring blankly out the window, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the glass.

"Y/n," Clark began, "I know you don't remember, but the last time we went to the movies together was your 13th birthday. You wanted to see the Incredibles then."

Y/n frowned, a knot forming in her stomach, guilt filling her, though she didn't know why.

"I thought... maybe if we watched it again, it might help jog some memories," he continued, the words coming out in a rush. "It's always been your favorite. You'd watch it over and over, even when I begged for something else." He let out a strained chuckle that seemed to contradict the radio's happy tunes.

Y/n didn't answer, continuing to look out the window at the passing buildings. Clark's heart ached with a dull, relentless throb. His mind raced back to the days before whatever this was stole his daughter away. He remembered her laughter, her curiosity, the way she would pepper him with questions about everything and anything.

Now, Y/n couldn't even look at him. Desperation gnawed at him, a dark shadow lurking at the edges of his mind. He needed to bring her back. He needed to see that spark in her eyes again, to hear her laugh, to know that she was still there, somewhere beneath that cold, nervous expression.

As they drove, Clark glanced at the rearview mirror, catching sight of his reflection. Lines on his face seemed deeper, his eyes hollow. He barely recognized himself. The effort of holding it all together was tearing him apart, piece by piece.

"Remember the time we went camping?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You caught your first fish, and you were so excited you almost fell into the lake." He chuckled again, but it quickly turned into a choked sob. He bit down on his lip, hard, tasting blood.

Y/n gasped, "Clark-"

"Dad," he corrected sharply, his tone laced with frustration. "Call me Dad, Y/n."

Clark almost immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice as Y/n recoiled slightly, a look of guilt crossing her features.

"I-I'm sorry, sweetheart," Clark stammered, reaching out to touch her hand. "It's just... I want us to be a family again. I want... I want you to remember."

His heart almost completely shattered when Y/n moved her hand away.

The radio continued to play its happy tunes as the two sat in silence.

...

The car pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater, the neon lights flickering to life. Clark turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"We're going to get through this," he said, more to himself than to her. "I promise you, Y/n. We'll find a way."

──●◎●──

Chapter 6

A/n: Sad times :,) Anyways, guess who's out of school AHHHHHHHH!!! And guess who's also going on a trip to EUROPE!!! AHHHH!!! I'm so excited y'all.

@rosecentury

[inkedbydesire]

Can’t Let Go (Pt 1)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem Reader

A/N: This is inspired by an Adele song called “Can’t Let Go.” Please give it a listen if you’ve never heard it. It will enhance your reading experience (I hope 😂).

Warnings: None.

Summary: You thought you would never hear from him again. And truthfully, even that was too soon. They say that time heals all wounds. So with time, you convinced yourself that closure wasn’t necessary, that you didn’t need to understand why he ripped your heart to shreds. Somewhere along the way you even managed to persuade yourself that you were completely over the whole ordeal and completely over him. But after a full year of silence, a single letter arrives, threatening to undo everything you fought so hard to move past.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Jimmy is kinda sorta my muse right now. So here’s another one *Dj Khaled voice.* I apologize in advanced for any grammatical errors or typos I may have missed during my proofreading.

*************************************************

"Jonathan fucking Fatu." 

You muttered the words to yourself, then took yet another sip from your wine glass. Well, honestly, it was more of a gulp. You practically downed the whole thing. And this wasn't even your first or second glass. Normally, you never drank this much in a day, but tonight seemed like a special occasion. After a grueling shift in the ER, you'd expected to come home to a warm bath, a good meal, and reruns of Bob's Burgers. Not a letter from your ex-boyfriend, Jonathan, who you hadn't heard from in over a year.

When you stopped by your parent's house after work because your mom said she had something for you, the last thing you expected was a letter from Jonathan. No wonder she'd sounded so strange on the phone. No communication had passed between you and Jonathan for so long that he had no choice but to send the letter to the last address he remembered, your parent's house. He knew nothing about your apartment. He knew nothing about your life anymore. And why would he? He wasn't a part of it.

"I'm not doing this." You muttered aloud as you stood up, holding your wine glass in one hand and the letter in the other. You slowly walked into the kitchen and hovered over the trash can, you held the letter there for a moment before you dropped it in. Then, you turned off the light and returned to the living room, sinking back onto the couch. You tried to focus on anything else other than that damn letter but no more than five minutes later, you were back in the kitchen, digging through the trash.

This time, you didn't waste a second before heading back to the couch with the letter clutched between your fingers. You decided to leave the wine alone telling yourself that there was no need to add a hangover to your list of problems tomorrow. Shifting your attention to the letter you finally opened the envelope and unfolded the pages. As your eyes skimmed over Jonathan's neat handwriting, memories that you'd worked so hard to suppress rushed at you all at once as if you'd just been blindsided by a semi-truck.

High school. Sophomore year. That was when you first met him. Your parents had uprooted your whole life and moved you to Florida when your dad got a better job offer. You'd been terrified, forced to leave behind everything and everyone you knew. You were social, but not enough to feel okay with walking into a new school where everyone already had their friends. You had no idea how to approach anyone. You knew if you didn't find a way to fit in, you'd spend the next few years alone.

Before you could muster the courage to talk to anyone on your first day, Jonathan was the first student to speak to you.

"You must be new" he said to you casually as you stood in the hallway staring down at your schedule. The guidance counselor had only shown you to your first class and then left you to fend for yourself. This school was far bigger than your old one so on your way to second period you got a little lost.

"It's that obvious huh?" you responded back to the stranger then looked over at him and smiled. He returned it, warm and friendly.

"Lemme see" he said as he reached for your schedule and you allowed him to have it happy to have someone who seemed like they wanted to help. 100s of other students had brushed past you so far and he had been the only one to stop.

"Oh, we got the same second period. Follow me. I got you." He told you as he handed you back your schedule and you thanked him as you folded it and slid it in your back pocket.

"What's your name?" He asked as you fell into step beside him.

"Y/N" you responded as he zigzagged you through the hallways. Quickly you picked up on the fact that Jonathan was pretty popular. On every hallway that you followed him down some dude was dapping him up or some girl was saying hey. And for some reason, he kept taking it upon himself to introduce you to every single person you two encountered. He kept telling people "This the new girl Y/N."

Like it was his duty or something.

You were a little embarrassed that he kept making you the center of attention but if you were going to meet anyone other than him it had to be that way. And you guessed he figured that. You think he just wanted you to feel included. And you did. During your lunch period, you spotted someone who looked like Jonathan so you went over to thank him for helping you again, only to discover you were talking to his twin brother Joshua. That's how you ended up meeting both of them on your very first day.

Jonathan talked to you every day after that. Over time you managed to find your place in a good group of friends when you joined the cheerleading team. This caused you and Jonathan to grow even closer because you spent more time around him due to him and his brother being football players. By Junior year you two were dating and experiencing a lot of firsts together. You were high school sweethearts for two years but mutually broke up after graduation when you saw that life was taking you in two completely different directions. It wasn't a sad or bitter breakup because you both understood and respected each other's futures. You just wanted to see each other win. And you knew that no matter what you would always keep in touch.

Jonathan went to college for a little bit before moving away with Joshua to pursue wrestling which was a part of their family legacy. You stayed in Florida went to college and worked tirelessly to follow your dream of becoming a nurse. You and Jonathan barely ever saw each other anymore.  Years passed. But still, you kept in contact here and there.

Jonathan and Joshua got signed to the WWE. You remember him being so excited on the phone when he called and told you about it. You became a nurse and started working at the hospital of your dreams. And crazy enough you even almost got married. You were engaged to a Doctor that you met at one of the hospitals you interviewed at before finding your perfect fit. He seemed like a amazing person on the surface but you later found out that it was all just a hoax. 1 week before your wedding you found out that he had fathered an outside child and had basically been unfaithful throughout your whole relationship. That was a horrible time for you but you managed to get through it. And although Jonathan couldn't be there for you physically you could always count on him to send you some encouraging words every other day.

When it seemed that you and Jonathan had finally solidified yourselves in your careers that's when you two reconnected on a deeper level. It started with texting each other as much as your work schedules and sleeping arrangements would allow. Then to falling asleep on Facetime with each other every night. Then to catching flights to see each other. He came to see you. You went to see him. And then on one of your trips, he just didn't want you to leave. So you decided to say goodbye to Florida and moved to the state that Jonathan was calling home. You found a hospital to work at and easily settled into life with him. For 3 years you and him had a relationship that you had convinced yourself you could only read about. You thought Jonathan was your forever and you found solace in thinking you would never know heartbreak again. 

But then it happened. 

It started like any other day. It was your off day so you were going to run a few errands and spend the rest of the day relaxing. Jonathan was on the road as usual living the hectic life of a wrestler so you were going to spend some time missing him too. But that was basically it. There were no warning signs. No strange feeling in the pit of your stomach. Nothing. You went through the day totally oblivious to the fact that your whole world was about to collapse.

Later on that night out of the blue your notifications started going insane. Jonathan had posted you on his Instagram here and there over the years so people knew who you were through him. Due to that, his fans started interacting with you. So you assumed that's what it was. That they were just tagging you in random things like normal. But you saw that everybody kept sending you the same link to a TMZ article. You ignored it until your best friend sent it to you with a message that read "Have you seen this? Are you okay?"

Nothing could've prepared you for what you saw. The headline was still engraved in your memory.

"Jimmy Uso exposed for stepping out on his now girlfriend Y/N: Woman reveals picture and text proof."

Your phone moved from side to side in your shaky hands as you read the article. Your heart pounded and your stomach turned as you read the claims of a woman who said she had been with Jonathan intimately a month ago. There were text messages and you knew for certain that it was his number. He had the same number since high school. But if that wasn't the nail in the coffin she also had a picture of him in her bed. Tears began to blur your vision as you read away every ounce of trust and security you ever had in Jonathan and your relationship.

Barely being able to process what was happening you moved in a zombie-like state as you located your laptop. Your brain was on autopilot as you booked a flight back to Florida for 6 am the next morning. You knew that you had to be out of that house before Jonathan came back. You were sure he knew the news by now. He had to. And you didn't know if he would drop everything and try to rush back. You didn't want to see his face. You didn't want to hear him try to explain himself. There was nothing that he could tell you. Life as you both knew was just completely over now.

And he only had himself to thank for that.

You packed what you could fit into your two suitcases and decided you would leave everything else behind. You had 3 years of stuff here but none of that mattered. With your heart feeling like somebody just snatched it out of your chest with a butcher's knife ..... nothing mattered. Shutting your phone off to silence the noise of the constant calls and texts you were receiving, you then climbed into the bed that you and Jonathan shared and cried your eyes out until sleep somehow found you. You woke up the next morning in time enough to take a shower, cry in it, and then leave Jonathan a note. You tore a piece of paper from a notebook and wrote,

Dear Jonathan, I hope it was worth it. Bye.

You left it on the coffee table in the living room before running out to catch your Lyft to the airport. Later that evening when you arrived in Florida you took a taxi to your parent's house. You knew your mom had already heard the news by the way she greeted you when you rang the doorbell. She just allowed you to fall into her arms and she held you as tight as she could. You were mentally and physically drained as you climbed the stairs and went to your childhood bedroom. You went to the bathroom that was connected to it and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You looked exactly like what you were going through. Your eyes were swollen from all of the nonstop crying and somehow your brown skin looked pale. After taking off the hoodie you had on and stripping down to your panties you went back to your bedroom and got into the bed. When you were under the covers you decided to turn your phone back on for the first time in over 12 hours. You had what seemed like 100s of text messages, missed calls, and voicemail messages from Jonathan.

You opened one of the voicemail messages, your heart breaking all over again as you heard the desperation in his voice.

............. "Baby, where did you go? I swear that shit didn't mean nothing. I ... I fucked up. I really fucked up. And I regretted that shit instantly. I wanted to tell you about it. I just didn't want what's happening now to happen. I didn't want to lose you Y/N. Please say something to me." .......

Well there it was, he admitted to it. So any stupid hope of this somehow not being your reality was lost. You shut your phone back down ignoring him again as tears streamed down the side of your face. Somehow through all of the pain you felt in your chest sleep still found you. You woke up later that night with more voicemail messages from Jonathan.

............ "Look Y/N I'm going out of my fucking mind. Just let me know where you at. I need to know that you alright." .........

............. "Curse me out. Do something. I can't take this silent shit."...........

.............. "I don't know if you even listening to these but I love you Y/N. I know you might not believe or wanna hear that right now but I love you."

You ended up blocking his number. But things didn't end there. You still had a long road ahead of you. He blew you up on every single social media app which you eventually had to delete. What Jonathan did to you was very public and people were talking about it. And you needed to ignore the world and him if you were ever going to get back to you.

As time went on you started to function like a normal human being again. You didn't end up sitting on the shower floor every time you took one and you started to eat more than once a day again. But it seemed like every time you tried to make a step to move on Jonathan would contact you and set you back. When he couldn't reach you on social media anymore he started sending emails. You blocked him there too. Then he put two and two together and figured you were at your parent's house and started abusing their phone lines as well. When his number was blocked yet again he even resorted to catching a flight and randomly showing up to their house. Rightfully so your father refused to let him in and sent him on his way.

Jonathan had turned your whole world upside down but you still communicated with his family through all of it. His mom and Dad checked on you. But you mainly talked to Joshua the most because you two had a friendship outside of him. Joshua genuinely wanted to know about your well-being, so you responded to him often while still being radio silent when it came to his brother. When Jonathan caught wind that you were still talking to Joshua he tried reaching out to you through him. You told Joshua not to allow him to do that or you would also have to cut ties with him. You didn't want to do that because Joshua hadn't done anything to you but you seriously wanted absolutely nothing to do with Jonathan. You didn't need his explanation. His apologies only infuriated you. You didn't need anything from him.

He tried to get you to communicate with him for almost a year but you never took any of the bait. Time passed and Jonathan's crazy measures to reach you eventually slowed down. 

Year two rolled around and for the first time, you heard no signs from him for a whole two weeks. But still, he was known to pop out when you got the most comfortable so you wearily anticipated him. But then two weeks turned into a month. One month turned into four. Before you knew it a whole year had passed with nothing from his end. In that time you managed to get your life back on track. You moved out of your parent's house into a nice apartment and were able to get the old job that you had before leaving Florida to be with Jonathan back.

It had been two years since you removed yourself from his life so you thought that the Jonathan Solofa Fatu chapter in your life was closed. You thought you would never hear another peep from him but yet here you were holding this letter.

And any peace you thought you had found with the situation was now completely disturbed.

[harlowsbby]

Will U? 💘

“Will you be my Valentine?” He sighed and shook his head. “Will you do me the honor of being my Valentine this year?” He groaned and moaned once again.

“What is he doing?” Ace asked Drama as the two of them sat from afar watching Jack. “I think he’s practicing for when he ask Y/N to be his Valentine.” Drama said.

“But aren’t they already dating?” Ace said. “Yeah but you know Jack he’s a bit extra.” He said.

Even though Jack and You were already dating and have been a couple for two years now you still loved the thought of being asked to be his Valentine. Earlier that day Jack had overheard you talking on the phone to your friends.

You had mentioned how you’d wish Jack would ask you to be his Valentine even if the two of you were already dating you just thought it would be cute.

Flashback.

“I just feel like it’ll be cute you know? I walk into the house and he’s there with a poster board or something holding flowers and he ask me to be his valentine.” You romanticized.

“You’re so silly you know that.” Annie laughed. “Like you’re both dating already why would he do all of that?” Jackie said.

“Because it’ll be cute but I know he won’t so I’m not even going to worry about it.” You told them and all three of you started talking about something else.

Jack frowned a bit as he heard a bit of disappointment in your voice he knew right then and there that he needed to make this Valentine’s eventful.

Flashback over.

“Okay so who ordered the dozen of roses and this big ass teddy bear and these chocolates?” Urban said as he came into the studio.

“Yeah and these balloons.” Neelam added on. “I did these are all for Y/N.” Jack said.

He called you a few minutes ago asking for you to come down to the studio he didn’t exactly say way but you didn’t question it. He had gotten red letter balloons that spelt out ‘will you be my valentine?’ Along with roses and chocolates and a teddy bear that was bigger than him.

“You’re going to ask her to be your Valentine? Why do that when you’re both already dating I thought it was like obvious she was your Valentine this year?” Urban laughed.

“I mean yeah but I heard her talking to her friends earlier about how she’d love for me to do this so here I am.” Jack said.

“But I don’t want to be rude but I need all of you to leave the studio because she’s about to be here.” He quickly rushed them out of the room before they were able to say anything else.

He set up the balloons and thanked the heavens that they all fit and put the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear on the studio couch.

Once he was done he had gotten a text from you stating that you had just arrived. When you made your way inside the studio his security escorted you to the studio.

“Jack?” You called out and opened the studio door.

“Jack? Are you in here?” Once you finally opened up the door all the way you were taken back by the balloons and everything else. “Hey baby.” Jack smiled wide upon seeing you.

“What’s all of this?” You turned to look at him with slight tears threatening to spill. “It’s all for you I heard you earlier talking to your friends.”

“You heard all of that?” You instantly felt bad the last thing you wanted to do was to make him feel like he was being forced into doing something.

“I did but it’s okay don’t worry baby but I did want to ask you a question.” He said and you smiled. “What’s your question?” You asked even though you knew his answer.

“Will you be my Valentine?” He asked you. “Of course I’ll be your Valentine.” You smiled.

Jack cheered and picked you up and began to spin you around the two of you laughing like hyenas. “Jack! Okay put me down.” You giggled.

“I love you.” He said when he finally put you back down. “I love you too Jack.”

[moraxsthrone]

⊹✧˚｡⋆ title — sir kaeya

⊹✧˚｡⋆ pairing — k. alberich x f!reader

⊹✧˚｡⋆ wc — 5.7k

⊹✧˚｡⋆ cw/an — nsfw. mdni. alcohol consumption (duh it's kaeya). kaeya being a bit of a tease (duh it's kaeya). oral (m & f rcv'ing). snowballing (how fitting). clit slapping. this fic sprang forth from the very first genshin thing i ever wrote (the scene at angel's share) so it's really special to me. kaeya was my first genshin love and will always be my favorite. 💜

surprising as it would be to most, you’d never been to mondstadt before this week’s multi-regional summit. as a diplomatic representative of your region, many would guess that you’d been all over teyvat. but you’ve only held your current office for a little less than a year, and although you did your best to absorb as much information and knowledge as possible from your predecessor, it’ll take a lot more time and experience than what you have so far to be as efficient as they had been. so, for now at least, the job keeps you busy - too busy to travel for pleasure.

so when the final meeting of the last day gets canceled, rather than go home early you take the opportunity to do some much-anticipated exploring of the city of wind and its culture. 

“i’m famished! pray tell, sir kaeya, where would you recommend we go to enjoy the most authentic dishes of mondstadt?”

kaeya alberich, cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, has been charged with keeping you safe. as your security detail, he accompanies you almost everywhere you go - keeping a low profile during policy meetings - blending in with the background while also being close enough to stand between you and any potential threat or danger.

“we?” he asks, looking slightly confused. “will someone else be joining you?”

“if you’ll be so inclined…” you say before biting your lip and looking away shyly.

“me?”

you’d have to be blind not to have noticed his striking good looks the moment you were introduced to him on the first day, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt your feelings one bit to allow the captain to keep you company. likewise but unbeknownst to you, the gorgeous knight has stolen a few glances of you when you’ve been too busy to notice. he has especially enjoyed your pretty smile and the sway of your hips when you walk. more than once he’s allowed his gaze to linger on your curves perhaps a little too long.

“but of course! i don’t want to eat at a restaurant alone while you just stand there and watch. can you think of anything more depressing?” you joke.

“you make a valid point,” he says with a quiet laugh. “very well. allow me to treat you to good hunter. you’d be hard pressed to find a more impressive menu! miss sara makes a mean sticky honey roast - i can’t recommend it enough!”

as the two of you dine together, you enjoy easy conversation, becoming better acquainted with one another. when kaeya introduces you to miss sara, she goes out of her way to prepare for you a sampler of sorts, citing it as the perfect solution to your conundrum of deciding what to order because everything looks so tasty. she also insists that your bill is on the house, refusing to take any mora you offer, but you leave behind a handsome tip anyway. if nothing else, you want miss sara to have it as thanks for her warm and welcoming hospitality.

“what would you like to do next, m’lady?” kaeya asks, walking alongside you towards the city’s center.

you should be used to this title by now, but something about the way the cavalry captain looks at you when he says it sends a small rush of heat to your cheeks.

“oh, i don’t know. why don’t you surprise me?” you say, flashing him a coy smile, which he finds irresistibly adorable.

he takes you to marjorie’s souvenir shop before leading the way to the anemo archon statue in front of the cathedral. from there, the two of you take a stroll outside the city walls, engaging in playful banter along the way. your personalities blend well - he’s pleasantly surprised at your ability to keep up with his wit, and his charm wins you over with ease. by the time the sun is setting over the edge of the western horizon, your conversation is flowing effortlessly. the two of you haven’t been able to shut up for hours when you ask him,

“so where’s the best place to get a drink in this town?”

the knight’s smirk spreads into a full smile as he hums. “i know just the place.” 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

the tavern is packed, and you’re inclined to believe kaeya’s got that pirate blood he claims to have since he’s standing on one of the big wooden tables, surrounded by other rambunctious patrons of angel’s share, singing along with the bard’s songs about legends of sea and treasure. their energy is contagious (obnoxious if you ask diluc who just rolls his eyes and shakes his head from behind the bar). 

you’re right there with them, clapping and laughing when kaeya reaches out, takes your hand, and pulls you up onto the table with him. neither of you are sure if the visible heat on the apples of your cheeks is because of the alcohol or because of the sudden proximity of your bodies. with an arm around your waist he pulls you right up against his side and wow! he’s more powerful than he looks. the song is about finding love on the run and kaeya is acting out the lyrics with you, embarrassing you to no end but you’re having too much fun to ask him to stop, so you just go with it. 

the song’s story ends with a kiss and you think you might just die when kaeya’s arm flexes against the small of your back, fastening your hip to his thigh. he brings his lips right up to yours, but they don’t quite touch. your eyes go wide as you stare into his periwinkle orb that sparkles with mischief. he practically whispers the last line of the song, his dandelion wine breath wisping over your lips. 

the cheering of the men around you grows distant, drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears. 

kaeya’s heart pounds against the palm of your hand resting on his chest.

you watch with bated breath as his ice-blue eye darkens with his diamond pupil. he shifts his weight and your knees feel like jelly when his lips but graze yours before he smiles and pulls away with a laugh. 

raising his cup, he cheers along with the surrounding audience before hopping off the table. setting his drink down, he reaches for you again, this time to help you off the table. you accept, and he pulls you closer before his deft hands clasp your waist, lowering your feet to the floor. 

a tease that kaeya alberich, you think, but a chivalrous one. 

while you find yourself mingling with other patrons it seems kaeya never lets you out of his sight. he’s never too far away, engaged in his own conversations with some of the other locals when you look over to find him looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. 

when one of the gentlemen offers to buy you a drink, kaeya seems to appear out of nowhere and places a hand on your lower back. 

“oh, that won’t be necessary,” the knight interjects, voice filled with cool honey. “all her drinks are on the knights of favonius this evening, but a kind gesture, i’m sure.” 

“why, sir kaeya, if i didn’t know any better i would think you’re trying to keep me all to yourself tonight,” you say with a teasing lilt.

his lips part as a slight blush appears on his cheeks, but he quickly recovers. “just performing my knightly duties to keep you safe, m’lady.” 

when you’re ready to go, kaeya’s having such a good time that you don’t want to end his night. so you make your way to the bar to pay your tab, only to be told that your drinks have been bought and paid for already (oh, he wasn’t lying).

you wander out into the cool night, the sound of the crowd and the smell of booze muffled behind the thick wooden door. no longer had it shut behind you than you feel your back being pressed against the tavern’s exterior wall. you gasp, only to breathe easy when you find yourself pressed between the wall and your now-tipsy chaperone.

“thought you could get away so easily, hm?”

your eyes are glued to his smirk. those lips that promised to kiss you earlier won’t soon leave your mind.

you laugh breathily while giving his chest a gentle push. “i didn’t want to put a damper on your fun.”

“who said my fun is over for the night?” no sooner than the words leave his lips, his eye widens as he quickly realizes how inappropriate it was to say that. “oh dear, it seems i’ve forgotten my manners. please accept my apology, m’lady…”

his panicked attempt at clarification is interrupted by your laughter. “relax, sir kaeya. i won’t hold it against you.” 

he really wishes you’d stop calling him that. it makes his dick twitch every time and you both know his pants will leave little to the imagination if he gets a hard-on.

he stumbles walks you back to the goth grand hotel, removing his cloak along the way and draping it over your shoulders when he notices you shivering in the cool night breeze. when you reach your door, he lingers as you unlock it with the intention of ensuring you make it inside safely. the bolt unlatches and you turn to face your chaperone again. 

he’s looking down at you and opens his mouth to bid you good night when you pull him in by his shirt and kiss him. it’s a huge risk, one you never would’ve taken were it not for the liquid courage coursing through your veins. maybe he isn’t really interested in you and that’s the reason he didn’t kiss you earlier.

much to your relief, he kisses you back. passionately. 

his warm tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you eagerly chase it with your own. you slide your fingers inside the opening of his shirt, balling it in your fist to lure him inside. his chuckle is low and breathy when he smiles against your lips which never leave his as you slam the door with your foot and push his back against the nearest wall.

“hahh…who knew you could be so forceful, m’lady?” he pants.

“sorry, but…” you say between kisses, carding your fingers through his soft hair, “...you teased me earlier and…” another kiss, “...i really wanted that kiss,” you finish with a whine.

“well, why didn’t you just say so, hm?” kaeya says, sucking on your lower lip with a hum.

his thumbs slide under your top, massaging little circles into your skin. there’s not a hint of humor in his voice when he rolls his forehead against yours and rasps, “i’ve been wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe anymore…”

in one swift motion, kaeya spins you around effortlessly until your back hits the wall, his cloak falling off your shoulders as he catches your gasp in his open mouth, making it clear to you that he’s the one in control now. his fingertips dig into your lower back and pull your hips from the wall, forcing them to collide with his so you can feel what you’re doing to him. you let out a quiet moan at the feeling of his semi pressing against your thigh. his lips leave yours to venture along your jaw before trailing down the column of your neck, his blue hair fluttering in your breath and filling your senses with the cool, clean scent of his cologne.

you reach down and fumble with kaeya’s belt, swearing at it under your breath when it doesn’t cooperate. with one hand and a couple flicks of his fingers, it hits the floor with a clamor of leather and metal. you have much better luck with the fastenings of his pants, his lips returning to yours with a shuddering breath just as you free his cock and start stroking his wide shaft, so hot and hard.

he quickly pulls his gloves off and hikes your skirt up to your hips, exposing your creamy thighs.

“so warm…” kaeya whispers, raking his long, slender fingers along your skin until he reaches your apex. “n' so wet…”

“hhhgods fuck…” the words leave you in a huff, making him groan when you rub your thumb over his slit to collect his slick bead of pre. “f-hnn-fuck me, kaeya~”

with your blessing, he wastes no time pulling his now fully hard cock out of your hand in favor of grabbing the backs of your thighs and picking you up. you lock your ankles behind him with a whimper, the back of your head rolling against the wall when the underside of his dick glides over your dripping pussy lips through your damp panties. kaeya’s got two handfuls of your ass, his deft fingers curling and pulling your underwear to the side to let his leaking cockhead seek your naked opening. he begins to push himself inside, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a long groan as his tip pops through your tight ring. 

you cry out, one of your hands flying to the wall behind you as you loop an arm around his neck for stability. kaeya spreads his legs a little further apart for leverage as he sinks a little deeper inside you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. before he’s even fully sheathed inside you, he retreats just to push in again and starts fucking you, slow and shallow. he’s barely halfway in and you already feel so full, the thick vein on top of his shaft rolling under his skin as he pushes and pulls at your slick, gummy walls.

“so tight~” he breathes, open lips ghosting across your face as he goes for your lips again. “are you okay?”

all you can do is dumbly nod as your eyes roll back behind fluttering eyelids and a huff of a laugh bubbles from his smile. “feels so good…so good to me, kaeya~” 

you’re practically singing for him already and he hasn’t even bottomed out yet. it would probably go to his head were it not for the fact that he’s too far gone from the wet heat of your pussy sucking him so hard, the lip of your ring catching on the head of his cock with every draw of his hips, driving him too crazy for his ego to remain intact anymore. 

your elegant neck is exposed to him, letting his open lips drag along your moistening skin as your back moves up and down the wall with his thrusts. kaeya’s long, slender fingers grab your jaw and pull your lips to his. you’re so nice and wet for him that your need is spreading to his hips and balls. the sound of his thighs hitting yours when you finally take him all the way goes straight to your head. it’s one thing to feel kaeya fucking you, but hearing him fuck you - moist slaps of skin, his quickened breaths and quiet groans so close to your ear - it’s driving you out of your mind.

the cryo wielder pulls you away from the wall, your hot tongues swirling as he carries you to bed. his fingers squeeze the plush of your ass, guiding you along his throbbing shaft as he goes. kaeya lays you down before reaching behind his back to unlock your ankles and spread you open for him. 

he pulls out and stands up, looking down at you and letting out a breathy chuckle when you whine a little at the loss of his girth. but the view is delicious so you don’t complain. his rigid cock is thick with a large vein running his length and an angry, almost purple cockhead that’s dripping with fresh precum. his tan shaft glistens, wet with your slick. it bounces under its own weight as he kicks his boots off and pushes his pants down. 

you both watch the other undress with urgency; he makes quick work of his shirt as you shimmy out of your skirt. save for the battle scars, his lithe body is flawless - tall with long, lean muscles. seeing him like this makes you bite your lip and rub your thighs together.

kaeya’s lips curve into a small smile as he crawls towards you on the bed, his hands gently caressing the tops of your thighs as he kneels between them. he leans down to kiss your cheek, his long rat tail licking your breasts. “you are so fucking beautiful,” he says, barely above a whisper. “i've been dying to taste you…”

a sigh leaves your lips as he makes his way down your body, kissing and licking, sucking and nipping in all the right places. his breath feels so warm against your skin, save for the few times he purses his lips to blow cool air on the spots he just licked. he swirls his tongue around one of your nipples, only to replace it with his cool fingers while he gives the other the same treatment. the juxtaposition of warm and cool makes you arch off the bed, moaning when your clit brushes against his naked belly. 

gradually, kaeya makes his way further down, ghosting kisses along your bikini lines as his hands spread your thighs open just a little more for him. he watches your dewy petals unfold for him, exposing the hard little bud they’ve been hiding. “fuck…” he mutters, “...such a pretty pussy…”

“kaey-” you start, but your voice is cut off by a gasp when his warm tongue swipes swiftly along your slit. a single periwinkle eye stares up at you as he flicks the tip of his wet muscle over your clit, soft and light as a feather. he’s teasing you. you can see the mischievous glint in his eye as he dips his tongue into your hole. finally, his lips latch onto your needy clit, making your hips leave the bed when you thrust into his mouth. 

his taste buds rub your tiny erection, your flavor making him moan as he sucks you harder. one of his hands finds yours, your fingers interlocking while his other hand grabs and kneads at your heaving breasts, your soft tummy, and the plush of your thigh. 

he pops off you, drool and slick coating his chin. “your flavor…fucking delectable~” he breathes before diving back in.

he nearly sends you over the edge when he pushes two of his long fingers inside your clenching cunt, curling them to find that unmistakable rough spot within. your walls squelch helplessly around him as he finger-fucks you. your free hand grabs and pulls mindlessly at his hair, hips rocking to fuck his pretty face as he gives you the head of your life.

“ohh~ kaeya~” 

the searing coil that’s been spooling deep in your belly is getting impossibly tighter and when the cavalry captain hums on your clit, the vibrations send you. you cry out for him, back arching, walls clenching around his curled fingers. he pins you to the bed with his free arm and moans, a wet spot forming where more of his pre leaks out of his throbbing cock when your fists tighten around his cerulean locks. you cum for him, thighs clamping around his head while his tongue pulses over your clit until you’re fully spent.

kaeya situates his hips between your legs, wiping your spilled essence from his flushed face with a breathy chuckle before pressing the underside of his cock between your slippery folds. you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you, and he relishes your gasp when his swollen cockhead catches on your overstimmed clit. 

grinning against your lips, he says, “oh? feeling a little sensitive, hm? perhaps you’re not quite ready to take my cock again so soon…” he teases, pulling away but you squeeze your thighs around his hips, impeding his escape and making him laugh.

“i can take a lot more than you think, sir kaeya…” you purr, twirling a strand of his blue hair around your finger.

there’s that glint in his eye again when he licks his smirking lips. “is that so, m’lady?” he croons, reaching between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. biting his lower lip and holding your gaze steady the cryo user slaps the head of his cock hard against your clit, swallowing your cry at the sharp pressure. “fuck,” he groans. “you make the prettiest sounds for me…”

“so mean,” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps when he pushes his blunt tip inside you.

he drops his mouth to your ear as he slowly spreads you open around his girth, whispering, “...and you love it.” 

his sultry voice shoots down your spine straight to your core, making him moan deliciously when your weeping walls clamp down on him. kaeya starts slow and even, pulling almost all the way out before easing himself balls deep a few times, making you feel every inch as his cock drags and pulls along your slippery insides. 

the lingering effects of your orgasm have left you even tighter than the first time he fucked you. he can already feel the heat pooling at the base of his spine, his balls drawing closer to his body when his hips begin to snap. there’s no way he’s going to get enough of you before he cums. you feel too fucking good - the way your little cunt is squeezing and sucking him so hard, drooling and soaking his entire length as he fucks you. the pretty little sounds your mouth and your pussy make for him…your whines and cries of his name, the slurps and squelches of your juices all over his cock. 

he’s got to get more of you, plunge his cock deeper inside your hot, wet cunt. 

kaeya pushes up onto his knees and props your ankles on his shoulders, still fucking you through it all without missing a beat.

“oh gods, kae- kaeya~...feels so good, don’t stop!”

“wasn’t planning on it…” he pants as he leans forward, putting you in a deep press so he can hit the spot that makes your hips leave the bed. “...gonna fuck you until this sweet pussy of yours creams all over my dick…”

you’re twisting the sheets in your fists above your head, the firm ridge of kaeya’s cockhead bumping against your sweet spot with every snap of his hips. strands of blue hair are sticking to his tan skin, a bead of sweat trickles down his chest before dripping onto yours. his palms are planted firmly on either side of you, veins popping out along his sinewy arms as muffled grunts form in his throat.

your walls are closing in tighter around him, both of you can feel it. his name is leaving your lips in broken syllables, coming out in huffs with the force of his thrusts: “kae-ya…y-you…fuck…g-gon-na…” is all you can manage before he fucks your next orgasm right out of you. you’re pawing at his chest, crying his name, clenching so hard around him you’d push him out were it not for him pounding into you harder, fighting to stay inside, determined to fuck you all the way through it with his brow furrowed and jaw clenched.

his balls ache, but he’s able to hold out for a few more seconds before the coil snaps inside him. he swears and pulls out quickly, his narrow hips still jerking and his arm flexing as he spills his hot, sticky seed out onto your belly and tits. you watch the pleasure wash over his beautiful face as his cock twitches in his own hand, a groan giving way to a satisfied sigh as the last of his cum oozes from his slit.

one at a time, he lowers your feet to the bed on either side of him. both of you are out of breath, chests heaving as kaeya dips down and licks a glob of his still-warm semen from your skin before bringing his mouth to yours. you moan in his mouth at his flavor, eagerly swirling your tongue around his to let him feed you his fresh, salty cum. 

when he rolls off of you, both of you just lie on your backs in comfortable silence for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in the afterglow. 

“i guess this means you’ll be leaving soon, hm?” you finally ask. 

with one knee bent, kaeya turns his head to look at you as you gaze up at the ceiling. “is that your way of kicking me out of your bed?” he asks with a forced smirk. 

“no,” you chuckle. “i just didn’t take you for the type to stick around after a one-night stand…” you turn onto your side to face him. “but if i’m being honest, i really don’t want you to leave.”

“just how big of a whore do you think i am?” kaeya asks, contriving to sound offended and making you chuckle. he mirrors you and rolls onto his side, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m glad you want me to stay. i’ve had more fun with you tonight than i’ve had in a really long time.”

“is that right?” you say, biting your lip and dragging a fingertip down his enticing cleavage. “then why should our fun end?” you lean in and kiss him, his lips meeting yours softly.

“i didn’t say it should...” kaeya says before pressing his lips to yours again.

you press your hand against his chest, prompting him to lay on his back. goosebumps rise to meet your lips when you kiss his tan neck. he leans his head back and gasps quietly when you gently palm his softened cock. your touch is exquisite. he wants more of you but first he’s content to enjoy the wet kisses you leave along his skin as you work your way down to one of his dark and tightly budded nipples.

you smile and look up at him when he moans your name at the feeling of your tongue flicking over what’s proving to be one of his most sensitive spots. continuing on down, you take your time ghosting sweet kisses along the valley of his taut abs, all the way down to his cute navel and blue happy trail. you’re appreciating the time and care he obviously puts into his manscaping when you wrap your fingers around his still-sticky cock, surprised to find it so hard again already. 

with a couple of fingers holding his base, you swirl your tongue around his salty cockhead and fuck he tastes good. you close your lips around his tip and give it a little suckle before popping off again to kiss the underside of his rigid shaft. you can still taste yourself on him too, somehow making you want to suck him even more. 

sliding his slender fingers into your hair, kaeya mutters, “y/n…please…”

you finally take him in your mouth, your saliva coating him as you slowly sink down until his tip touches the back of your throat before hollowing your cheeks and pulling back towards his tip. with a slight tremble of his open legs, kaeya’s fingers tighten in your hair - not to control your pace or depth, but because the sheer pleasure coursing through him has all of his muscles tightening. 

“ahh~ feels so…nnh~” he sighs as you take him in again, “...good.”

the sounds and words leaving his mouth are going straight to your pussy. you want to know just how good you can make him feel so after a little more cocksucking, you pull off him and move to straddle his hips.

you and kaeya hold eye contact as you line him up with your slit, dragging his tip between your pussy lips a few times. you’ll never forget the pleading look in his eye or the way his lips part when his blunt, leaking tip catches on your opening and you begin to lower yourself on his length. kaeya takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of being filled once again with his girth.

you lean down to kiss him as you begin to ride him, slowly at first but gradually working yourself into a frenzy. kaeya’s hands grip your hips as you pop your ass on him, gliding along his filling cock. your moans turn to whimpers as you feel yourself approaching another orgasm and you start bucking your hips. 

“ka-hahh~ kaeya…” you sit up, your hands anchoring themselves to his chest, using his body as leverage to drag your clit along his happy trail. 

kaeya’s fingertips are digging into the plush of your butt, aiding your thrusts as he whispers words of encouragement. “that’s it, y/n. you’re doing so well…fucking me right…you’re almost there, keep going~”

and just like that, your fingertips dig into the muscle of his chest as your orgasm rips through you. you’re crying his name out over and over as you spasm all around him and the very fibers of your being feel like they’re being torn asunder until your body begins to go limp. kaeya welcomes you into his embrace as you lower your chest to his, your hot breath bathing his neck as you try to catch it, still whining here and there as he kisses the side of your head and tells you how fucking amazing you are.

with some of your strength and mind returning, you rise just enough to kiss him again, finding a fleeting look of sheer adoration in his eye before he lifts your hips and pulls out of you, his rock hard, creamy cock slapping against his happy trail. he moves you onto your belly while he positions himself behind you, pulling your weak hips up until you’re presenting for him.

“is this okay?” he mutters, dragging his tip along your quivering slit.

eyes still closed, you nod weakly against the bed. “ye-yes…please, kaeya~”

with one hand on your lower back, he guides his cock inside you before hooking both his hands around your hips. he fucks you slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sinking himself fully inside your heat again. but it isn’t long before kaeya’s wet hips are slapping against your ass and he’s watching the creamy ring you’re leaving on his cock, mesmerized by how beautifully it contrasts with his darker skin. the thick vein on top of his cock is rolling under the pressure of your tight, sucking cunt - every time kaeya thrusts inside you. 

you’re whimpering again. “s-sir kaeyaaa~” you whine at him over your shoulder. 

“love it when you call me that…” he pants.

“i- hahh~ i know~” you say with a sly, exhausted smile. 

his balls are tightening again - rolling around in his sac as the muscles around them seek to force his seed out again, making him moan and exhale a long “ah, fuuuuuck~” behind you. “gonna cum…”

after a few more stuttered thrusts, kaeya buries himself deep inside you, his tightened balls pressed hard against your clit as he unloads himself. “i’m...nggh...i'm cumming~” he can’t help but moan loudly as he coats your walls with his hot, milky seed. a couple of thick globs leak from the rim of your hole, and drip down his tight, dark-skinned balls.

kaeya nearly collapses on top of you, but manages to land on the bed beside you, pulling you close to him. you’re facing each other but your eyes are still closed as you both kiss whatever part of the other’s body or face is closest, too exhausted to mutter a single word. 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

dawn comes, bringing with it her harsh light. your eyes flutter open with a squint, turning away from it only to find an arm lying limply around you. 

oh. oh right. that happened. 

you smile weakly at the fresh memories of your drunken fuckfest with the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius.

the fact that your duties in mondstadt have been fulfilled and you’ll be leaving to return to your homeland give you a low, sinking feeling in your heart. after a few minutes of replaying the events of the previous night and considering your options, you gingerly move the cavalry captain’s arm off your body - slowly and carefully so as not to wake him. 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

kaeya wakes with a groan, his eye blinking open to find himself alone in the hotel bed. he sits up and looks around, calling your name once but to no avail. he thinks ‘how predictable’ when he realizes you left without even saying goodbye. he tries to ignore the ache in his chest, reminding himself that he should be used to it by now. he throws the covers back to start getting dressed when from the corner of his eye he catches something flutter: a folded piece of parchment that had been resting on your pillow. a thread of hope dares to weave its way through his heart as he picks it up and begins to read:

“you looked so handsome and peaceful in the morning light, i didn’t want to wake you. thank you…for everything, but especially for the night before. i don’t want to call it “last” night because i truly hope it wasn’t our last. please reach out if you feel the same. i’d love for you to visit my homeland so i can be your tour guide and return the favor…i’d love to see you again, sir kaeya alberich…”

you’d signed it with your name and a simple, small heart before writing your address below your signature.

a couple of days later, you receive a letter inside an envelope with the seal of the knights of favonius. 

“of course i feel the same. our time together was far too delightful to have been so brief. i would love to visit you and experience all that your homeland has to offer. the acting grand master has been urging me to take some time off to relax anyway. so just tell me when and i’ll be there with bells on. we’ll paint the town red and enjoy as many more nights together as you please, my lady.”

— sir kaeya

kaeya m.list | main m.list

⊹✧˚｡⋆ 18+ reblogs, likes, comments, and follows always appreciated !! i give you all kithkith !!

[moon-like-u]

the butterfly effect

pairing: jeon wonwoo/reader

genre: sci-fi i think, time travel au! kinda angst

word count: 1,794

warnings: may be confusing because it jumps from previous and present timelines

synopsis: wonwoo can time travel and will do everything just to make you happy

a/n: hello omg it has been two years since my last post! i accidentally stumbled on my draft for this au and decided to finish it. i didn't proofread this anymore so hopefully it still makes sense by the end and that it's not too rushed ^___^ also i hope the narrative is not confusing with all the reminisces lol this felt long but apparently both junhui and joshua aus are still longer ahaha

You had warned him. 

You already warned him that this would happen, but he was too stubborn to follow. Wonwoo feels the early afternoon air against his face as he walks the streets of the city with one destination in mind: the coffee shop, Hanabira. 

He knows these streets all too well; the few apartment buildings among different restaurants and small businesses that seemingly fall together, the trees and light posts lining up the streets, the idle chatter of people, a string familiar of faces, even the cracks in the gravel full of perennial plants – all of these fell into place fitting like a puzzle, just like you and him, he thought.

It was also in these streets that he discovered his ability to time travel many years ago. Ever since then, he felt as if a huge responsibility rested upon his shoulders and at the same time, felt like nothing mattered, everything and anything was temporary – well, until he met you. You who drink coffee as if it were water, you who choose to walk with him on this very same street every time he asks you to, you who remember every single detail of your (and his) favorite books, plays, and songs and still manage to become forgetful. You who became the permanent fixture in his life among those that faded away. 

He thinks back to when he asked what would you do if you had the ability to time travel. You had said that it would be a big responsibility to have, after all, you can change a lot of things that can alter human history. In terms of your personal life, you told Wonwoo that you would leave it exactly as it is. 

The afternoon light was streaming through the blinds of his room, creatively lighting up the room as the both of you lounge on his bed. Wonwoo grabbed your hand as you sat up on your elbows.

“I’d rather not change anything in the past. Everything felt circumstantial, you know?” you pondered. “The day I met you, I wouldn’t change a thing. I love you and I want to meet you the very second we did.”

The bell on the door of Hanabira jingles as he walks in, the smell of coffee and vanilla greeting him. He remembers the day you met as if it were just yesterday. He smiles lightly as he recalls it. 

During the middle of the day, Hanabira was booming with customers in line to get their cup of coffee and baked pastries. It was not a surprise that there was a long line that almost reached the entrance door. However, the peak hour was not the only reason why the line is long— you were there, holding up the line because you were short 10 won. 

Wonwoo sees the panic in your eyes as you dig up your wallet, bag, and pockets to find nothing but a few paper receipts. He can’t help but notice how you already had a large coffee stain on your torso, coffee you probably spilled hours before. “Here,” he said as he gave the cashier 10 won, realizing he must put you out of your misery. 

“Thank you,” you breathed out. “I’m not usually unprepared like this, if you don’t mind to keep in contact so I can pay you back.”

Wonwoo was surprised to see you look like you’re about to cry, wearing a coffee-stained long-sleeved shirt, and yet, you had this determined look on your face as if he just paid 1,000 won instead of 10. 

“Sure,” he replies, speechless. 

The rest was history. Wonwoo was glad he had 10 won to spare that day, for he felt like he was the luckiest man to have met you. He still does. Wonwoo would do everything just to see you happy. Wonwoo walked into Hanabira, taking in the place. It gives him a little comfort seeing how everything is still the same—it still looks like the same favorite place you ever so loved.

He looked over to the corner where the both of you sat and when you had poured your heart out to him. He remembered how you opened up to him that day in this very coffee shop, thinking that a heart-wrenching conversation with a random (cute) stranger that you would probably never meet again would help ease the pain.  Wonwoo recalled how you explained to him that the reason you were tense and bought coffee with not enough money was that you missed an interview for a screenwriter position, your dream job. He found it ridiculous that you would not even change this part of your past if given the ability to time travel.

“But that interview was your dream, wouldn’t you at least try to change the past and attend the interview like you always wanted?” Wonwoo asks.

“Well, yeah. It is my dream. But still, I know I can do my best even without that interview. Even if I have to do other positions first before being promoted to a screenwriter. I know I’ll get there,” you said wistfully. “Besides, if I made it to that interview, I wouldn’t have met you, you know. And I couldn’t have that!” you said teasingly.

Wonwoo had laughed along with you then, but it got him thinking. It has been your dream since you were a kid. He remembers how you passionately defended the beauty of being a screenwriter when he expressed that being a director sounded more appealing, just to tease you. 

“Screenwriters bring the magic directors can show. One is not above the other—both are staples to create something so beautiful in harmony through plays, movies and the like!” you attested.

It took you a while to realize that he was just messing with you, a feat that was rewarded with a slap in the arm. But it was then that he knew how much this meant to you. And Wonwoo, well, he wanted to give everything to you—even the world, if he can.

If there was one thing that Wonwoo learned and proved with his time travel abilities, it was the chaos theory, specifically the butterfly effect. It amused him how little changes really do cause big changes in a course of events, which is why he had to be careful and think about the repercussions of changing anything as little as moving the position of a park bench. It was how he just changed the batteries of a certain bus driver’s alarm clock that caused you to ride a bus that did not have reckless driving skills, which meant that you did not spill your coffee all over yourself and your resume. Which means that you had successfully entered the interview of your dream job, prepared, polished, and caffeinated. 

“Sir? Excuse me, sir? I said that would be 4,400 won,” the cashier calls out. 

Wonwoo snapped out of his reverie and handed the cashier his bills, “Sorry, I spaced out. Thank you.”

It has been three years in the timeline where you made it to the interview. You made it, Y/N, Wonwoo thinks as he sees your name is becoming known in the film industry. He wanted to celebrate with you, but in this timeline, he would just be another stranger to you. He knew this would happen, but he still went on and change the past despite you refuting the idea before.

“What if we still meet afterwards, in another day? Would you change the past this time?” he asks you.

You hummed, “It’s a risk, I still wouldn’t do it if I don’t have the reassurance that we’ll meet again.”

“I’m sure we’ll meet again in this scenario.”

“How sure are you? I think it was because of our decisions that day that we met, so, I still wouldn’t change a thing even though it would get me to that interview,” you said while tracing circles on his arm.

“No, I think it’s because of fate that we met,” he replied.

You raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes, “I didn’t take you for a sappy romantic.”

He chuckled, you felt the reverberations on his chest, “No, I just think we’re fated together, Y/N. I think that even if you were a popular, in-demand screenwriter, we’d still find our way to each other.”

“So in this scenario I'm popular and in-demand you say? What if I turn into a snob and refuse to meet you with all that fueling my ego?” you laughed.

“All the more why I should be there to pull you back down!” Wonwoo responded, suddenly attempting to tickle you. You laughed at the unexpected attack and responded with the same action. Both of you were lost in a series of laughs and tangled limbs.

Wonwoo recalled the memory with a bittersweet feeling. Of course, he considered looking for you and introducing himself, but he couldn’t think of a way that would not make him look like a madman. Hi, I’m Wonwoo. You were the love of my life in another timeline? He had not even told you of his time travel abilities before. He went to all the previous places you used to live in, but you never resided there in the present timeline. You had warned him that this would be a big change, that it would come with the risks of not meeting each other—and yet, he went ahead and did it. Still, he does not regret he did it. He just wishes he could be there to see you happy to have achieved your lifelong dream.

Back in the coffee shop, Wonwoo decided to take a walk outside with a sigh. We’ll meet again, I’m sure of it, he thinks. As soon as he went out Hanabira, he collided with someone and spilled the remainder of his now cold coffee onto the floor. Wonwoo noticed the dog first, and looked at the person. It was you.

“I am so sorry! My dog suddenly dragged me and ran all the way here, I swear he doesn’t usually get like this!” you said apologetically. 

“It’s okay, he was probably just excited,” Wonwoo chuckled, as he kneeled down and petted the dog. Well, aren’t you a good boy, he thinks as he continues to pet the dog.

“Yeah, he loves walking in this part of the city!” you said, relieved. “I’m sorry I spilled your coffee though, how can I make it up to you?”

Wonwoo looks up at you with a smile, “What about a coffee for a coffee?” I told you it’s fate Y/N, we are just destined together in every timeline, he thinks. He stood up, reached out his hand, and said “Wonwoo, by the way.”

You smiled, “Y/N.”

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

That's What Family is For (Part 2)

Fandom: DC, Batman, Batfam, Damian Wayne, Batsis!reader, f!reader Summary: After being kidnapped and offering to take Damian's place to be tortured, you miraculously find yourself waking up back home. Damian has a new outlook on your relationship, but will a secret from your past ruin everything? Word Count: 5231 TW: Hospital, Aftermath of Torture, Mentions of Past Torture, Mentions of Death, Forced to Watch, Crying, Coma, Past Trauma Note: Today is the 2 year anniversary of posting Part 1 of this fic. Thank you so incredibly much for your patience and support as I worked on this and I hope it lives up to Part 1 💖 Part of @ailesswhumptober

Part 1

You have no idea how long you were asleep for, but when you finally managed to drag yourself into consciousness, you couldn’t remember why every inch of your body was in a strange state of concurrent numbness and agony, or why you couldn’t seem to see out of your left eye. It was only when you caught sight of the two casts stretching from the soles of your feet up to the top of your thighs that it all came flooding back to you. 

You and Damian had been kidnapped in an attempt to get a ransom from Bruce. To prove they meant business, the kidnappers were going to torture Damian but you had offered to take his place. What happened next was just a blur of blood and pain: The glint of a large knife. The blunt impact of a bat. But mercifully, you couldn’t remember much else. Just that it had been bad. Really bad. 

You tried to take a mental inventory of what hurt and what sort of injuries you had sustained, but there was too much damage. All the individual pain bled into each other until it just felt like one massive wound. Every breath you took made your chest, ribs, and throat ache, your head was pounding, and you couldn’t move either leg or your left arm. All you could manage was a slight turn of your head as you looked towards the door but even that small motion sent new waves of pain through you, causing a low moan to slip from your lips.

Almost instantly, Jason came rushing into the room, panic etched onto his face. Yet the second he saw you looking at him, his face split into a massive grin. The kind you couldn’t remember seeing on him since he returned from the dead. And despite everything, that sight warmed your heart.

Licking your cracked lips, you tried to speak but nothing happened. Swallowing a few times, you finally managed a barely audible, “Hey, Jaybird.” 

The words sounded funny, thick and slightly lispy but Jay’s smile only widened. He hurried to your bedside and dropped into the chair that had been left there. “Damn, sis. You look terrible.”

You knew he was trying to keep the mood light, but you could hear the tears hiding just behind his words. Giving your best attempt at a smile, you croaked, “Even like this, I bet I still look better than you.”

“Yeah, probably,” he chuckled. “That voice though…. They said it would probably be hard to speak for a few days because of the tube and–” He cut himself off, but you knew what he was going to say. Because all your screams of pain had damaged it. 

Swallowing again, you tried to make your voice sound as normal as possible. “Yeah, well, you better be careful. You keep smoking all those cigarettes, this is what you’ll sound like in a few years.”

“Even now you gotta hassle me about those?”

“If you would just quit, I wouldn’t have to get on you about the–” 

Your words were cut off as your body fell prey to a fit of coughing. It tore at your throat like daggers and your chest felt like it was shattering into pieces. It only lasted for a few seconds but when it passed, you were left panting and moaning in pain. 

When you finally managed to pull yourself together once more and looked back at Jason, his smile had completely vanished, replaced with a thin-lipped grimace. His eyes drifted over your broken body before returning to your face. “So… Honestly. How do you feel?”

“How do you think?” you wheezed. “Like someone ran over me with.. with a… wit– oh forget it. I’m in too much pain to think of something clever. I feel shitty.”

“What hurts?”

“The easier question is ‘what doesn’t hurt?’. And why can’t I open my left eye?”

“Alfred taped it closed for now. It looked pretty messed up.”

You nod slightly. “Permanent?”

“Not sure,” he muttered, staring down at the floor. “They had to wait until you woke up to fully assess the damage.”

You nodded again, the dread growing in the pit of your stomach. But you have to know the answer to your next question, no matter how terrifying the answer might be. In a small voice, you ask, “How bad overall?”

Jason hesitated. “Maybe you should wait for Bruce or Alfred to–”

“How bad, Jay?”

Still avoiding your eye, he shifted in his chair before answering. “Bad. The worst of the damage is on your left side. Your arm was dislocated, your cheekbone was destroyed, you’re missing several teeth, and your eye is… well, I already mentioned that. Also, most of your ribs were pretty much shattered and the ones that weren’t are cracked. The pieces punctured your lungs in multiple places. Your legs…The knives thankfully missed all the major arteries, but Alfred said there still might be some nerve damage.”

“Is that all?” You had meant for the question to be sarcastic, but the quiver in your voice made it sound more like a desperate plea.

Jason took a long, deep breath. “It also took eight surgeries, four blood transfusions, and three resuscitations to get you stable.”

“Yeah, that feels about right.” You clenched your jaw tightly as you struggled to hold back your tears, but that just sent a fresh jolt of pain through your mouth. Using your tongue, you gently prod the three new gaps where teeth used to be. No wonder your words sounded funny. 

In a soft whisper, you asked, “I’m done, aren’t I? There’s no coming back from this, not really. Even if I can get back to a halfway normal state, I’m never going to be able to put the costume back on. No going on patrol, no more protecting the city, no more being a hero.” 

A small sob bubbled in your throat. When Bruce had taken you in all those years ago, you were a mess. Every night, you woke up screaming from nightmares—memories—of watching your parents tortured to death in front of you while you were helpless to do anything. You had felt so powerless. But then Bruce told you about his secret life. That he was the man in the mask who had rescued you from that horrible place. And he taught you how to be strong, how to be for others what he had been for you. He had given your life a purpose but now….it had been taken from you just like your parents had been. 

As the tears began to slip down your face, Jason carefully took your hand, rubbing the back with his thumb as he leaned in to stare you directly in your good eye. “Hey, don’t think that way. Bruce was able to come back from a broken back, I came back from the dead, and you… you can come back from this. It’s not gonna be easy and it’ll take a lot of hard work, but if anyone can do it, you can.”

The tears began to flow faster as you finally let the sob you had been holding back free. Squeezing Jason’s hand as tightly as you were able, you cried, “Thank you, Jay. Thank you for everything. I can’t even imagine making it through what comes next without my brothers by my side.”

Jason snatched his hand back from your grasp and pushed back in his chair, his expression growing dark as he spat, “Don’t. Don’t thank me. While you were sacrificing everything for Damian, while you were lying there dying, I was here. Too weak to help you when you needed me most.”

“Jay–”

“I wanted to be there, I did, I just…” His sharp tone crumbled into a near sob as he buried his face in his hands. “I was fine until he picked up the bat. Then it all came rushing back. All I could see was the Joker standing over me with that crowbar and…and I….” His hands muffled his cries, but you could still see the way his shoulders shook as he sobbed.

You had forgotten that they had sent a live feed of your torture to all of Wayne Industries which was probably how Bruce had located you and Damian. Jason never talked about what had happened to him all those years ago in that warehouse, but you had been waiting in the Batcave when Bruce had brought Jason’s body home. You still remembered the bruises and blunt force trauma that couldn’t have been made from the explosion. And you also recalled how the sight of your brother’s broken form sent you into a hysterical fit, not only over the loss of the boy you loved like family but also because it brought back all of the scars from your parents’ deaths. You had felt incredibly guilty later once Bruce and Alfred calmed you down that you had made Jason’s death all about you and your past traumas. But Bruce reminded you that your pain and grief was valid, whenever it hit you, and despite the circumstances, you needed to take care of yourself first or you weren’t going to be able to help anyone else.

Just like Jason needed to take care of whatever horrors he had relived before coming to help you.

It took a lot of determination and concentration, but you slowly moved your hand towards Jason. Luckily, he was sitting on your right side since that was the only arm you could move at the moment, but it still took an achingly long time to close the short distance between you.

As you lay your hand on his shoulder, his head jerked up. When he saw what you had done, his eyes—the blue magnified by the tears about to fall—grew wide. Smiling, you brushed your fingertips lightly across his cheek and said, “Jay, I understand why you didn’t come. There was nothing you could have done and you needed a chance to deal with your own pain. And I’m sorry that I was the reason you had to relive that experience.” 

Jason shook his head furiously and clutched at your hand. “No! This was not your fault! All you did was protect Damian. The only person to blame is that psychopath Moore.” His face darkened. “Bruce better be glad they threw that son of a bitch in Blackgate because if he had gotten away, nothing and no one would have stopped me from hunting him down and putting a bullet between his eyes.”

“See? You are such a loving, protective brother who would do anything for me.” His expression softened slightly. “Besides, you even just admitted. Moore is the only one to blame here. Not me, and not you. So, please, don’t beat yourself up over this. I’m still here and I need you now more than ever.” You squeezed his hand as tightly as you were able and after a moment, he returned both the squeeze and the smile. You nodded softly then changed the subject. “How is Damian handling all of this?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Jason nodded towards the other side of the room.

It took you a moment and quite a bit of pain to turn your head enough so your right eye could see where he was gesturing, but when you managed it, your smile grew wider.

Curled into a tight ball, Damian was fast asleep on the couch on the far side of the room. He looked so small and it reminded you that despite his upbringing, he was still just a kid, which made you feel better about your condition. If one of you had to be lying in this bed, you would have offered yourself up every time.

Jason chuckled softly to himself as he saw your face. “He’s barely left the room since they brought the two of you home. Bruce tried getting him to go back to school the last two days, but he flat-out refused. Said he wasn’t going anywhere until you woke up.”

“Really? That doesn’t sound like Damian.”

“Well, I think his actual words were ‘Tt. Father, I cannot be bothered with those trivial lessons while my sister’s fate is still uncertain. I am needed here. Yes, I have a geography test next week, but I have traveled to more countries than my so-called teacher could even possibly name. This is more important.’”

Despite the mocking—though fairly accurate—impression Jason had made, your eyes welled up with tears once more. Damian had called you ‘sister’. It was the first time you could ever remember him doing so. No. That wasn’t true. He had said it when Bruce and Dick had shown up to save them. In fact, the echoing word was the last thing you remembered before the world had gone dark. 

Swallowing hard to clear your throat, you asked, “Um, do you think…Would he be upset if I asked you to wake him up?”

“Yo! Demon Spawn! Wake up!” Before you could stop him, Jason hurled a pillow across the room so it slammed into Damian’s sleeping form. 

The kid instantly leaped to his feet in a crouched position, ready to take on any and all attackers. But he straightened up when he saw Jason’s smug grin and your weak smile staring back at him instead. Rushing to your side, he said, “Sister! You are awake!”

You tilted your head slightly to look at him better. “So are you. Sorry for the rude wake-up. That was all Jay.”

“Hey!” Jason huffed indignantly. “You asked me to wake him up and I did! You just never said how.”

Damian glared at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Yes, Todd has been exceedingly insufferable this last week while you have been injured—”

“W-week? I’ve been out of it for a week?” You felt your blood run cold. You knew things were bad, but for some reason the thought of you laying in this bed unconscious for the past 7 days made your condition seem so much worse.

Jason and Damian exchanged a worried look. Then Jason cleared his throat and said, “Yeah…. It's been eight days since you and Damian were kidnapped. They had to keep you in a medically induced coma for the first five days while they operated. Then when they brought you out, they had to dope you up with so many pain meds that you were out of it even when you were awake. They tried to lower your dose but they had to up them again when they removed the breathing tube and you wouldn’t stop moaning…So, yeah. It’s been a week.”

You let your head fall back against the pillow as tears began to sting your eyes. Obviously, it would have taken you time to recover from that level of injury, but a week? No, actually, eight days. And that was just the start of your recovery. The amount of time, therapy, and hard work it would take you just to be able to stand again, let alone walk or fight, was dizzying to think about. Despite the fact Jason had reassured you differently, you didn’t see how you weren’t done after this. How were you supposed to bounce back?

As the tears finally became too much and began slipping down your face, you whispered, “You all should have just let me go.”

“No!” The ferocity in Damian’s voice startled you and you looked over to see his small hands curled into tight fists as his face bore a determined scowl that could rival Bruce’s. “No. You do not get to give up. Not now. Not now that the worst of it is behind you. You never once gave up while we were captured. Despite everything that sadistic fiend did to you, you fought to protect me. We would not have been in that situation if it was not for me and I will repay my debt to you by remaining by your side to ensure you get through this.”

You stared at Damian for a long time, a mix of pride, adoration, and guilt stirring in your chest. Seeing how he wanted to stand by you and help you through what came next meant the world to you. The Damian who climbed into your car eight days ago wouldn’t have done so. However, you couldn’t let him make such a vow without knowing all the facts.

Shifting your eye to look at Jason, you muttered, “Can you give us a minute alone?”

He hesitated, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and his younger brother, but finally, he nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go let everyone else know you’re not only awake but coherent this time. They’ll want to see you.”  

“Thanks, Jay. I’ll have Damian let you know when we’re done.”

He nodded, shot Damian one last look, and left the room. 

Now that you were alone, you carefully motioned for Damian to take the chair Jason had been sitting in earlier and he silently did as you wished…for once. He looked so small compared to the memory of Jason’s hulking form sitting there just moments before and tears once more stung your eyes as it hit you all over again how young he was to have experienced what the two of you just went through. You hadn’t planned on having this conversation until you were a little better, but he deserved to know the truth and not continue blaming himself for what happened. 

Taking a deep breath, you said, “It’s not your fault, Dami. He was never after you. You were only there because of me.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “You have no proof of that. As you said in that warehouse, I am Father’s blood heir. If anyone was the target, it would have been me.”

You shook your head. “It was my car, Damian. The car I insisted you get in even though you didn’t want to. If I would’ve just let you walk home like you wanted–”

“They could have been monitoring me and adjusted their plans when I joined you in your vehicle. You still cannot be confident–”

“I know Moore.”

Damian blinked in surprise. “Yo–you what?”

You nodded sadly. “I know him. I didn’t realize it at first because it was so long ago and I’ve tried so hard to forget that day, but it was him. After I had passed out from Moore’s torture, they unhooked me from the chains and just let me drop to the floor. The pain of the landing woke me up for just a minute and I tried to beg them to put me back up because I knew otherwise they’d be coming for you, but I was in so much pain I could barely form a sentence. Moore saw I was awake and came to stand over me with that nauseatingly cocky look on his face.” 

You shuttered at the memory of it and knew it was an image that would haunt your nightmares for years to come. But you pressed on. “Then he said, ‘For what it’s worth, you should be proud. You died a lot more honorably than your parents did.’ And that’s when I remembered.”

Tears slipped from your eyes as you allowed all the walls and safeguards you had built up over the years to finally come down and you recalled the night your life changed forever. “It’s been so long and he was just a kid, no older than Tim. But then again, I was even younger.” Taking a deep breath, you looked up at Damian. “How much do you know about my life before Bruce took me in?”

Damian shrugged one shoulder. “Just what I said in the car. Your parents were tortured to death by a gang who left you tied up with their bodies until the police found you. Then when he heard what happened and that you had no one left, Father took you in.”

You nodded and wiped a tear from your eye. “My parents owned a little shop near Crime Alley at the time. It was a hole-in-the-wall thrift store that barely made enough to put food on the table but my parents loved that place. It was their pride and joy so when the local gang came by to demand protection money, they refused. They didn’t want their place associated with gangsters. Which of course the gang didn’t like. We lived in a small apartment above it and one night, the gang broke in while we were sleeping. I was only six at the time and I didn’t understand what was happening. I just knew some bad people dragged us out of bed and into the basement where they tied us all up to chairs. I was sitting between my parents as they begged and pleaded for our lives, but even then I still didn’t understand. Not until one of the men pulled out a knife.”

A humorless chuckle fell softly from your lips. “I guess in hindsight, I should have remembered Moore sooner. The way he tortured and hurt me was very similar to what the gang did to my parents. Just small cuts that got deeper and deeper. Small weapons that got more and more damaging until….” 

A small hiccupy sob slipped from your lips as everything came flooding back to you. Your father screaming in pain as the gang broke bone after bone and cut off his fingers one by one. Your mother hysterically sobbing as she begged them to let you all go. The way those pleas eventually shifted to just begging them to let you go. And then the eerie silence that fell across the room after your mother had taken her last breath. 

Damian took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It is alright, sister. You do not have to continue.”

You shot him an appreciative smile but shook your head. “No. It’s okay.” Taking several deep breaths to compose yourself, you continued. “There was one gang member who stayed huddled in the corner, refusing to watch as the rest of the gang had their fun.”

“Moore.”

You nodded. “I didn’t know it at the time, but yeah. He had started by anxiously pacing around at the back of the room but once things turned really violent….he couldn’t take it. He tried to run back upstairs but the gang forced him to stay and watch. Said he needed to learn how things were done. And after the other day, I’d say he learned his lesson pretty well.”

“And you are certain it was him?”

“Absolutely. I stared at him through most of it, partly because I couldn’t stand to watch what they were doing to my parents, but also partly because I could tell he was just as horrified as I was and yet he did nothing to stop it. I wanted to scream at him to help us, to do something, but I also was too afraid to speak up. And when they were done and the gang members left, he was the last one out of the room. He looked at me as if he wanted to apologize or set me free or…I don’t know. But instead, he just turned and ran up the stairs. The next time I saw him was when he walked into that room we were both chained up in.” You scoffed as you felt a lump growing in your throat. “I guess we picked up right where we left off, huh?”

The physical damage that had been done to you was hard enough to bear, but now realizing the connection your tormentor had to your past made you want to vomit. Moore may not have laid a finger on you back then, but he had been there to witness the worst day of your life. His friends had been the ones who did the same thing to your parents—only your parents hadn’t been lucky enough to survive. You wondered how long Moore had been planning this, how long he had wanted to finish the job that had been started all those years ago. Perhaps it was some sort of decades-long revenge plot since your parents’ deaths had eventually led to the arrest of most of the other gang members and the collapse of his gang. Or it was possible he just wanted to blackmail Bruce as he said and he thought using you to do it was just a bonus. Jason said Moore had been taken to Blackgate so once you were better, you could go try to get some answers. But at the moment, you weren’t sure if you even wanted them.

You had been so deep in thought that you only just realized that Damian had been silently staring down at your interlocked hands for the past few minutes. His expression was nigh-on unreadable and you were once again reminded of Bruce. Given enough time, support, and guidance, you could see him growing into a man worthy to carry on his father’s legacy. You just hoped he would want you to be around to see it. 

You wouldn’t blame Damian if his attitude towards you reverted back to how it was before all of this happened. After all, he was put through hell because of you. He had warmed up to you solely because you had offered yourself up to be tortured instead of him—yet he never should have been there in the first place. Maybe this would actually make your relationship worse. Maybe Damian would cut you off completely. Maybe—

“Sister, I cannot imagine how hard this realization must have been for you and I…I am sorry.”

His voice cut through your internal spiraling and you blinked in surprise. “Wh-what?” With all the scenarios you had swirling around in your head, hearing Damian apologize had never even crossed your mind. “But Dami you’re not…mad?” 

Now it was his turn to look surprised. “Why would I be mad?”

“I’m the reason you were there. I thought once you knew the whole story and realized that, you would hate me for getting you dragged into everything. Or at least–” you dropped your gaze down to the bed “–at least I thought you’d go back to not really liking me.”

“Oh…” The small boy shifted in his chair. “I can understand why you may have come to that conclusion but knowing your history with Moore does not change how I feel about what you did for me. You saved me long before you remembered who he was or your connection to him. And even that still does not prove you were the one he was after, not me. I am the youngest and, as such, am perceived to be the most vulnerable and incapable of protecting myself—Tt, though in reality, it is Drake who fits that description.” 

You smiled as you shook your head. Tim would disagree with that statement, but Damian’s point was still valid. To those who did not know of his past upbringing or training, it would be easy to dismiss him as a young, spoiled, entitled brat who never had to lift a finger his entire life. But they couldn’t be farther from the truth. Despite being a kid, Damian had already experienced more than 90% of people would in their lifetime. Hell, when he was the same age you were when you watched your parents die, he had already been training for years with the League of Assassins. Moore had just gotten lucky when he grabbed the two of you: if Damian hadn’t woken up hurt and already chained up, he probably could have incapacitated every one of your kidnappers. 

Damian continued. “Regardless of who the target was, it does not change the fact you volunteered yourself in my place when they wanted to take me. And despite the pain you were in, you tried to hold on as long as possible so I would not be forced to take your place. How could any other detail matter except my sister loves me enough to die for me?”

The lump in your throat got bigger until you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You managed to nod your head quickly and repeatedly as you choked out, “I would. Because I do. I do love you, Damian.” He stared down at the floor, shifting once more in his chair as his fist tightened around yours. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. You knew how hard it was for him but you could see he wanted to say it and that was enough. So, squeezing his hand back, you whispered, “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back.”

His shoulders dropped with visible relief and he gave you a small, grateful smile. Then, in a tiny voice, he muttered, “But I do though.”

It was the final straw. Tears began flowing down your cheeks as a small cry burst from behind your lips. There was a sharp pain in your chest as you disturbed your injuries, but it seemed unimportant at the moment. You tried to control yourself as much as possible, knowing emotions and displays of affection bothered Damian, but it was all too overwhelming. For so long you had tried to get him to at least tolerate you, but this? This was more than you ever dared to hope for. 

Damian sat quietly as you took a moment to compose yourself. Despite the added pain you incurred from your crying, you couldn’t remember feeling this happy in a while…..or this worn out. Now that you had cleared the air with Damian and everything was better than expected, you realized how much you had been struggling to stay awake. 

Another wave of exhaustion hit you and it took almost everything you had to murmur, “I know Jay said everyone was waiting to see me but I think….I think I need to rest for a bit. Could you ask them to wait until I take a small nap?”

He nodded. “Of course, sister. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Dami.”

You expected him to leave but instead, he squeezed your hand hard and looked you dead in the eye. “I mean it. Whatever you need. You will heal and things will return to normal. And I will be by your side for all of it.”

You smiled up at him, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Thank you, Dami.” 

He laid your hand gently back on the bed before standing from his chair and walking to the door. He glanced over his shoulder at you one last time, nodded, and then disappeared.

With no reason left to hold on, you let yourself collapse back into the bed as you gave into the darkness that was dancing on the edge of your vision. 

And as you felt yourself being pulled under to unconsciousness once more, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything that had happened and the long road to recovery that lay before you, you had a father and four brothers who loved you and would be by your side through all of it. Because at the end of the day, that’s what family is for. And you were so thankful to have found this family. 

Taglist: @zebralover, @itzagothamcitysiren, @roses-and-ricex, @blackpearl2324, @po55um, @missborntodiex, @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog, @an-ever-angry-bi, @rukia-uchiha-98, @shipsforlif3, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @hyding-out-here, @555hikaii, @nik2blog, @thefictionalcharacterssimp, @venomsvl, @sugarysweetsandpainfulteeth, @your-friendly-neighborhood-al, @hellfire-fan-club

[slutforpringles]

"I take this as confirmation of Daniel. Ultimately, I have reason to believe that he signed that contract [for 2024] at Silverstone a couple of days after the British Grand Prix. I think it was locked in at that point, having spoken to his manager a few times during that period, although Blake would never tell me. Yeah, all I’ll say is that his dentist does an excellent job because he did a lot of smiling. Must have taken a leaf out of Daniel's book on that one. But yeah, there was quiet confidence there for a long time, but it was great that we have that confirmation now.

And it also explains why Red Bull has not been in a hurry, why Daniel hasn't been in a hurry to jump back in that car and to really rush things with his recovery because he's never needed to. He's confident in that he knows his future. Right now, the best thing that he can do is put himself in the shop window next year. This year doesn't matter. So just get yourself right, get yourself back to full fitness, or very close to it, so that anything that's happening in his hand doesn't impact his driving, doesn't detract from his driving, because doing that, all he's doing is setting himself up to make that job harder. His sole job now is to impress Helmut Marko and Christian Horner to the point where it's a no-brainer for them come this time next year. Yeah, that's his sole job. He doesn't need to do anything else, everything else between now and then is a bonus."

-Mat Coch on Speedcafe's Pit Talk Podcast | Oscar Piastri's big week ends on the podium; Red Bull Racing wins the teams title: Japanese GP review

The hilariousness that the collective meltdown over Daniel getting one of the AT seats when it was announced last week was all for nothing - since it turns out he most likely signed for 2024 back in July so it's literally been his seat all along (as most of ricnation have been saying this whole time). Also YAY for Blake!! We stan Daniel's stage mum/boss/minder.

[hinamie]

hina have you seen this theory yet? 😭

https://www.tumblr.com/thepersonperson/762115329999650816/why-the-hell-is-jjk-270-called-dreams-end

yeah so i saw it first thing when i woke up yesterday and the fit of dread it put me into spiralled into a full-blown breakdown by the end of the night. dramatic I know but hear me out. ik people had mixed reactions to it but the relief and joy i felt the night of 268 leaks when I saw all the first years alive and together again was unmatched. after weeks of anxiety and trying to make peace with the fact that either megumi or yuuji would most likely not make it, suddenly it looked like everything would be ok. with those leaks i was SO happy to be in this fandom i was so happy to be making art for my favourite characters and to be able to watch them pull through. the thought of getting slapped in the face fr embracing that joy by a twist dream/unreality ending Hurts. I'm right back in the same anxiety that 2 days ago I thought was behind me.

re: the theory itself. i definitely think it's interesting and god knows i'm not well-versed in the manga enough to offer evidence against it , however comma for the sake of my own sanity I don't want to believe it. Even if it means that the ending we do get isn't satisfying from a writing or character standpoint, I don't want to believe that gege would be so cruel as to tear away even this rushed happiness at the last minute. Personally I don't think it's feasible for a single chapter and I definitely don't see surprise killing off a main character(s) as an ending that will satisfy the majority of audience members. call me delusional for it idc i cried enough last night i'm apathetic as fuck today.

I know i'm a lot more laid back than a lot of fans when it comes to how i respond to gege's writing choices, and a large part of that comes from me preferring to experience media giving creators grace and focusing on the aspects of their work that make me happy. i've /always/ been in jjk for the characters and their relationships. /they're/ what inspire my art. /they're/ what make me happy. Am I 100% satisfied with the way the past few chapters have been handled, no, but that dissatisfaction doesn't outweigh my happiness at seeing my favourite characters, the reason i make art in the first place, alive and together and happy. I would Rather the unsatisfying rushed disney kaisen ending or even a sequel than to have gege rub his audiences' faces in the dirt and mock us fr falling into the false sense of security he put us in. has he trolled before, yes, but i don't like to think he'd be this cruel in his series finale.

[hotchfiles]

divine rush.

⋅☆⋅ mrsaluado's first xmas event ⋅☆⋅

pairing: sirius x fem!reader.

summary: sirius is just very very nervous to meet your parents.

content warnings: maybe underage drinking lol but just fluff

word count: 1,4k

      "Oh my, you do not look well, Pads." That was probably not the best way you greet your boyfriend as soon as you open the door to your home, but it got you by surprise how red and sweaty he looked, he wasn't the type to get sick and he looked absolutely feverish. "Are you alright?" You touched his forehead with the back of your hand terribly worried about the boy in front of you.

      "I'm fine! Just... Nervous," Sirius replied, his teeth clenched as his eyes traveled to the room behind you. So that was it. You smiled back at him, holding his hand to finally pull him into your house, to meet your parents for the first time.

      "You're quite charming, nothing to worry, babe."

      "Don't think being a good kisser's gonna work on your old man."

      You laughed out loud but you weren't sure he was actually trying to be funny, his eyes still roaming around your parents' house.

      It was a decent middle class family house, not nearly as big as his own, or even the Potter's one, where he had been living for the past year. Still, it reminded him of his best mate's home in the best way possible: It felt like home. Your little cousins were running around, no one telling them it was impolite to do that. Most of your family were casually dressed and had Christmas hats with the family's last name embroidered.

      It was easy to see why you were so loving and understanding and for a second he envied you, the same way he envied James.

      He had spent so many years feeling like Christmas was just a day family got together to make their highest efforts to look and seem better, more successful and richer than the others. Worrying if his clothes were alright or if his mum was going to yell at him for it.

      Arrogance was really the only things uniting his family and for a while he thought that was how it was for everyone.

      "Dad's been doing literal shots of spiked eggnogg, you could try the kissing."

      That finally got his attention back to you, a boyish grin taking over his beautiful face, following up with the quickest of kisses, his lips barely touching yours.

      You nodded and were about to take him to the kitchen to meet everyone, especially your mum and dad, but your mother was quick to notice you both were taking a while at the door, going to you to see if everything was alright.

      "Merlin, aren't you dashing?" Was her literal first words to Sirius, excited her daughter had been dating such a beautiful boy, "where's the tattoos?" He was confused for a moment, his arms covered up with his coat, but he gave his hands so your mum could see it, his eyes looking straight at you trying hard to understand what was going on, you simply shrugged, like you had no idea and no involvement in that.

      Of course you did, you had mentioned to your parents he had quite a few and that he probably would be nervous about it so your mother thought the best way to make him ease up was just to put him on the spot immediately. Good intentions, not the best execution.

      Still, he was getting less nervous by the second, your mother was a blabber mouth, she could talk with a rock, it felt you blinked for a second and she was already pushing him to the kitchen, taking one of the red embroidered Christmas hats and fitting it on his head just before she herself introduced the boy to her sisters, who also had no problem showering him with compliments, you followed close behind, trying to hold in how amused you were and when you got to your dad, your mum went to his side, waiting for you to do your part.

      "This is Sirius, dad, Sirius Black, the boyfriend I've been telling you about."

      The fact you talked about him to your parents seemingly so many times had him die and come back mentally about three times before offering his hand so your dad could shake.

      Your dad gladly did, again, asking him all sorts of questions, about his tattoos, about motorbikes and music and what kind of food did he like. All questions about him and him only, not about his family, not about his blood, not about his name nor money. Just him, what he liked, what Hogwarts classes was he good at, what quidditch team did he support.

      All training he had done as a child on how to behave correctly at family parties showed completely useless as the men of your family fought about who was going to win the quidditch world cup and the women tried to secretly talk about their sex life to one another but were all a bit tipsy on wine to really notice how loud they were.

      Your dad even offered you both eggnogg, and before any of you could drink it, he got a bottle of firewhisky, already half empty, and added barely a shot to each, his finger going over his lips asking for secrecy, but your mother obviously noticed it. "You're not trying to get the boy drunk, are you?"

      "Sweetums, let the kids have some fun, it's Christmas!" He argued, knowing very well the amount of alcohol he had added wasn't going to do much but that it would be enough for him to create a cool father-in-law image.

      You were in heaven, every time you felt Sirius' hand brush on yours softly, showing you he was fine as he talked so happily to your family you felt your heart getting fuller and fuller of love for him.

      At the end of the night his coat was nowhere to be seen, he had leftover containers to take back to the potters and his arms were very very colorful after he decided to let your cousins paint his tattoos.

      Your parents offered the guest room so he wouldn't have to leave, although he would have to share it with other family guests, but he didn't want to impose so much just yet.

      And when it was only the both of you, before he left, Sirius took you in the most passionate and grateful of kisses. "I want this for us, doll face, so much."

      "What do you mean?" You looked up at him confused, your arms over his shoulders.

      "Family... This freedom, kids running around, spiking the boyfriend's eggnogg... I hope we get to where your parents are." You could try to hold your emotions, you could try not to cry, but you knew it would be impossible, so you just let your eyes water and put your head on his chest.

      You hoped so too, and hearing him say those things gave you a sense of certainty that one day it would be you both having your kid's partner over for Christmas, and that thought on its own made that night one of the best of your life up to now.

[livingformintyoongi]

To Get To You | Min Yoongi

Request: Hii, i just found your blog and saw that you are accepting requests, could i ask for a fic where the maknaes set you up with yoongi? Kind like frenemies to lovers? Like you and yoongi are constantly bickering and the rest of the guys cannot take it anymore of how much chemistry you guys have. Rom/com kind of vibe. Wouldn't mind if it ends up having some smut 😜 Thanks!!!

a/n: I am very sorry for the delay 😫, I was very busy, I hope it was as you had imagined.

Jin let out a long and heavy sigh, Namjoon rolled his eyes discreetly, the younger members of the group were laughing quietly together with Hoseok, and you, well, you were the cause of those expressions that became so common every time you came to pay them a visit and Yoongi was there.

You were Hoseok's best friend since you were 10 years old, you were there for him through thick and thin, so it was almost impossible for you not to become close to his other group mates, except for Yoongi of course. It's not that you hated him, and you didn't think he hated you either, it's just that… there was something about him that made you bring out the worst in yourself, and vice versa.

You still remember the first time you met him. It was the same day of BTS's debut, you had bought the most expensive ticket, all to support your beloved Hobi. You had managed to sneak backstage so you could give your friend some water, you could feel his nervousness from your seat. However, the rest of the members still didn't know you, which is why, when Yoongi saw you smuggling in too suspiciously and placing a bottle of water in his best friend's bag, he almost kicked you out.

The two of you started arguing, you even went so far as to roll up your shirt sleeves, ready to bring out your brawling side. Luckily for you, Hoseok arrived just then, and it didn't take him long to hug you tightly and thank you for coming. Yoongi still remembered your smirk of superiority and your middle finger rising in his direction.

"Let go" you growled under your breath, holding up a piece of meat with your chopsticks, "I took it first."

"My chopsticks are under yours, it was me who took it first" Yoongi's eyebrows furrowed, his body leaned towards you, both of you were sitting together at Hobi's insistence.

"Liar!" this time you leaned towards him, there was barely an inch of separation between your noses. Perhaps if you hadn't been so busy thinking about food, you might have noticed the blush on Yoongi's cheeks and his slight tremble on his lips. "You should be a gentleman and give it to me."

"Guys," Jimin said mockingly, resting his chin on both hands. Jungkook and Taehyung were trying to stuff their mouths with food so they wouldn't say something out of place, last time they spent over half an hour listening to both of them yelling at you that you guys definitely had nothing in common and would never, not even in the most horrible dreams they had, be in a relationship. "Why don't you just break it in half? There's no need to argue over a piece of meat."

"It's not just any piece of meat, it's the piece of meat" this time you turned to Jimin, pointing at it with the tip of your index finger, "I studied it before I grabbed it, there's almost no fat on it, and it's at its best doneness, plus it's perfectly seasoned. It's just a matter of looking at it to know it will be delicious."

"Sorry I was late, it was rush hour and everything was packed, barely made it out of the subway."

The eight of them turned around at the same time, meeting the big smile of Soyeon, an old friend of Jungkook's and Jimin's current partner. You almost choked on your own saliva at the sight of her.

You two got along very well, you had even gone out on a few occasions just the two of you. Soyeon was an extremely beautiful and feminine girl, she fit in too well with Jimin. She was quite outgoing and caring, and would always talk to you to see how you were doing or if you needed help at your restaurant. Yes, she could have been an amazing friend if it weren't for the fact that she had the same bad habit as Jimin.

"Oh, don't tell me," she covered her mouth with her hand, staring at you. A shiver ran down your spine. You could see the evil behind his eyes, "Were you and Yoongi planning to feed each other? I never thought you would accept your love for each other so soon, I would give you at least another three months."

"I was giving them until about two more," Jimin said with a chuckle, getting up from his chair to help Soyeon sit down.

"I wasn't feeding him!" you hurried to say, dropping the chopsticks and looking at the wall, completely avoiding Yoongi could see how embarrassed you were. This is why you hated being in the same room as these two.

"It's okay, sorry, sorry" Soyeon shared a sympathetic look with Yoongi, who took the opportunity to grab the piece of meat that had caused such a fuss.

The topic of conversation quickly changed thanks to the help of Jimin's girlfriend. She diverted attention to some dramas she had been having at her job and, to your surprise, it worked quite well. Sometimes you were impressed by how curious and gossipy these guys could be.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see how a piece of meat covered with a lettuce leaf stood on your plate. You couldn't help but smile, mentally repeating to yourself that, ultimately, that smile wasn't because of Yoongi's gesture, but because of the fact that you won the fight.

"Are you sure you're okay?" shouted Soyeon close to your ear. The music in the bar was too loud and you could barely hear your own thoughts. The pain in your head didn't help much either, how many drinks had you had?

"I think so" you tried to shout back, but a loud retch interrupted you.

You covered your mouth and ran as fast as you could to the bathroom on the second floor, leaving Soyeon behind.

Right after you disappeared down the stairs, Jimin appeared next to Yoongi, both of them were trying to communicate loudly between drunken laughter and clumsy steps. Suddenly, an idea lit up Soyeon's head and, mentally apologizing to you -along with a plea for you not to kill her when you had self-awareness- she approached the boys.

"Yoongi! Jimin!" She raised her hand to let them both know where she was, there were a lot of people among the three of them.

"Yeon?" muttered Jimin, pulling Yoongi so he could hear her better, "What happened?"

"It's Y/N" she shouted, pointing at the staircase, "Looks like she drank too much and feels really bad."

Both Jimin and Soyeon smiled as they noticed Yoongi's worried grimace, who was too distracted watching the ladder to notice their complicit looks.

"I meant to go help her, but she's a lot taller than me, and I don't think I can take-" Soyeon interrupted herself as she noticed Yoongi handing her glass to Jimin and hurrying past the people to climb up the stairs, "Wow, that was faster than I thought."

Jimin nodded in agreement, smiling as he watched his Hyung run after you. Despite all the teasing and teasing he and the guys were giving Yoongi, everyone knew that you made him happy, in a very strange way, and he couldn't help but get excited to see how he cared about you.

You leaned your head against the bathroom wall, flushing the toilet awkwardly. You were disgusted by the sight of your own vomit. You closed your eyes, your whole body was weighing you down and all that was going through your head was to take a good drink of water and lie on your bed next to your cat.

"Y/N?" You opened your eyes again, about to insult whoever interrupted your beautiful silence. It was Yoongi, though he looked much more worried than usual, "God, you look awful" he muttered, coming over to you and taking your arms carefully so he could lift you up. He paled almost instantly as he saw you start to retch.

He hurried to carry you to the toilet, resting your weight on it. He averted his gaze the moment you expelled all the alcohol you had drunk.

Despite being too out of yourself, you could swear Yoongi's cold hands were holding your hair and caressing your back gently. Yes, you were definitely too drunk.

"Gross" you whispered, flushing again, letting Yoongi help you up, "Sorry, did you want to use the bathroom?"

Yoongi ignored your question, slipping one of his arms behind your back and the other behind your knees, carrying you like a princess. You couldn't help but laugh as you felt him lift you up.

"Yoongi-ah is very strong, she can carry me even when she's drunk" you joked, letting your head fall back, watching as the rest of the guests danced energetically. Before closing your eyes and falling into the arms of Morpheus, you watched as Soyeon and Jimin gave you both a thumbs up and dismissed them with a big smile, but you didn't have time to think about that, as soon as Yoongi opened the door, you were completely unconscious.

You wrinkled your nose as you smelled a familiar scent, but almost instantly groaned in pain. You could feel a kind of unbearable hammering in your head, besides the burning in your throat and the heaviness in your eyes, right now even breathing hurt.

"I'll never drink again in my life" you growled in a raspy voice, letting your arm fall over your eyes.

"I wouldn't say that if I were you."

You sat up almost automatically in bed, regretting it immediately. Grimacing, you grabbed your head with both hands, cringing and throwing yourself sideways onto the bed again. It was then that you realized who the scent was that you had smelled when you woke up. It was the same perfume Yoongi wore.

"Be careful, you drank too much yesterday, you might get a headache if you move so abruptly" Yoongi murmured calmly, setting down a tray in front of you.

"No shit, genius" you groaned sarcastically, sitting down again, but this time more slowly.

You took the opportunity to look around Yoongi's room. You had never been in his house, much less his room. It was quite nice, and yes, it had the name Yoongi on every corner of it. If your throat hadn't been sore, you probably would have laughed.

"Here," he held out a pill and a glass of water, his gaze fixed on you.

"W-what is it?" you looked at his hands and what he held between them. You were aware that they were probably for a hangover, but you still found it hard to believe. He was the first guy to offer you such kind treatment after drinking half a bar, this obviating Hobi, of course.

"I thought you might have a pretty nasty hangover" he sighed, taking your hands and setting the things down on them, "Drink them with plenty of water, you might get a sore throat if you don't." He rubbed his hands on the jeans he was wearing. For a second you thought he was nervous. "Make yourself at home, you can use the shower if you want, I also have change of clothes that Hobi brought in the morning, if you want to dress in something more comfortable."

"Thank you" you murmured, watching him leave the room. For the first time since meeting him you felt nervous around him.

You shook your head at such a thought. It was Yoongi, fucking Min Yoongi, who you yelled at, pushed and shoved and picked on almost daily, to think of him like that was… impossible.

You repeated that to yourself as you took the pill he had brought you, as you ate the breakfast he had bothered to bring to your bed, as you guiltily made his bed for having stolen it from him last night, as you showered, as you dressed, even as you walked towards him with your party bag in one hand and clothes in the other.

"Sorry for the inconvenience" you whispered crestfallen. You didn't even quite remember how you got here, you thought he probably paid your cab fare and had to carry you, that idea made your stomach tingle and you definitely didn't want to dig into it.

"Don't worry, are you feeling better?" Yoongi turned to you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"What do you care?" you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up. You didn't like this overly friendly side of him. You pulled your clothes closer to your chest, pressing them against it in a failed attempt to control your heartbeat. You cleared your throat, feeling embarrassed for acting this way after he had taken care of you in the early morning, "Thanks for the help, even though I didn't ask for it" you stood for a few moments in silence, both of you sharing glances. Yoongi was sitting on the edge of the couch in your living room, his elbow was resting on the arm of the couch, and in turn his chin was resting on his hand. He was staring at you, his face just as calm as ever.

"Y/N" he mumbled, narrowing his eyes, "don't you remember anything that happened last night?"

"What are you talking about?" you cocked your head to the side, furrowing your eyebrows. You tried to remember something, but beyond the vomit and waking up in Yoongi's bed, your memory was empty, "Did I throw up your clothes?" a grimace of horror came across your face, if you had, you were ready to dig a hole under the ground and bury yourself in it.

Yoongi just shook his head, turning his eyes back to his TV, "Forget it, it's nothing" he picked up the remote control and brought it close to his mouth, resting it lightly against his lips.

You turned away almost immediately as soon as you realized how much you were looking at her mouth.

"Whatever, I'm leaving now" you shouted from the doorway, getting out as fast as your legs would let you. You didn't know what was happening to you, but you didn't like it at all.

"Jiwon, I'm serious, this is serious" you folded your arms, watching as Jungkook laughed out loud while Jiwon tied her hair in a high ponytail.

"Y/N, I've already told you several times, not just because your heart is racing you will go into cardiac arrest" Jiwon took control of Jungkook's hands and looked at him with annoyance, "And you stop laughing, or else you'll sleep in one of your Hyung's house."

"Sorry, sorry," Jungkook said with laughter, hugging Jiwon and kissing her right cheek, "I promise I'll show you mercy in this match."

"Stop flirting!" you threw yourself on the bed behind them, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly.

As the sound of the game timer began to play, Jiwon's slightly gravelly voice echoed in the room.

"Okay, okay, tell me what you have, I don't have anything like to give you a check up, but I could try to give you a pre-diagnosis" she murmured concentrating on the screen.

"It all started about two weeks ago, after I woke up in Yoongi's house" you mumbled, trying to remember everything that happened.

"Wait, why were you at Yoongi's house?" Jungkook, knowing that his girlfriend would look at him after asking that question, shrugged, completely oblivious to the situation. It didn't matter to him as much as beating her at the game.

"Oh, it's just that I'd had too much to drink that night, and since he didn't know my address, he let me stay at his place, but that's not the point" you sighed, settling back to look at your friend's blonde hair, "Ever since that day I've been having problems."

"What kind? Maybe it was because of how much you drank."

"I don't know. Every time I remember about that night my stomach feels like it's squishing or something" you wrinkled your nose, shaking your head at how horrible it made you feel to remember that feeling, "My heart also gets too fast, like it's racing, and sometimes I even stop breathing for a few seconds" you closed your eyes, remembering the smile Yoongi had given you just before you left, how her lips touched the tip of the remote control. "My body temperature suddenly changes, even my face turns red from the heat I feel."

You hadn't realized until then that they had both stopped playing and were looking at you in surprise. You looked at them in confusion, the thought that it was indeed something serious made your stomach churn.

"Y/N" Jungkook muttered, turning completely around and resting his hands on the bed, "do you have feelings for Yoongi?"

You remained silent, not because you didn't want to answer, but because you were surprised that he thought that. Of course you didn't like him, it was the opposite, you hated him, that's why you always fought, for that very reason you had learned the things he likes and the things he hates, to annoy him back, just like he did with you.

"Of course she's in love with him, we all knew that," Jiwon gently tapped Jungkook's shoulder, turning to look at you, "Right?"

"I don't… he's not…" you swallowed saliva, trying to find the right words, but you couldn't, a lump in your throat kept you from saying you didn't like him, you didn't even feel attraction for him, did you? Because it was always about you hating each other, about others claiming how you probably liked each other, just that.

"Y/N?" Jiwon walked over to you, sitting down next to you and smiling sympathetically as she noticed how complicated you were with the question, "I think you just answered yourself."

"But I haven't said anything yet" you mumbled, looking at Jiwon nervously. You didn't want to accept what she was saying.

"Look" she rested one of his hands on your lower back, her smile still there, "everything you mentioned is what one feels when they're attracted to someone and, if we're being honest, you and Yoongi usually have quite a bit of chemistry in your so-called fights."

"He doesn't feel the same way about me" you finished saying, you knew that with that comment it could be understood that your answer to Jungkook's question was a yes, but that wasn't what you were worried about, what would you do if these two were right? How would you tell Hobi that you hooked up with his best friend? What would you do if you let it slip that you like him and you end up making Yoongi and consequently everyone else uncomfortable?

"There's only one way to find out," Jiwon said with a chuckle, nudging you on the arm, "you know how the saying goes, who doesn't risk, doesn't win."

"And in case he turn you down, you can come with us" Jungkook came towards you from behind, hugging you tightly. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of his buck teeth.

"Thanks, guys" you murmured, hugging you both.

"Don't even think it'll be free, you'll have to cook us a delicious lunch for a week."

You laughed as you felt Jungkook whimper at the blow Jiwon had given him. You couldn't help but wonder if you and Yoongi could ever have a relationship like theirs.

You checked yourself in the mirror for the fifth time that night. It had been two months since your conversation with Jiwon, two months in which you paid attention to Yoongi's attitude towards you, in which you remembered the moments you were together-which were many more than you thought. You took that time to think about your feelings, organize your ideas and plan how you would bring him to your restaurant.

It was in those months that you realized how kind he had always been to you. Yes, it was true that you were insulting and annoyed most of the time, however, in almost all of those memories you had of him, he acted much nicer than you felt at the time.

One of those times was here. On the opening day of the restaurant the guys had a live performance, they were at their best, it was impossible to change the date. That day you cried alone in the bathroom of the venue because you couldn't have your best friends here to celebrate with you. It was that same night, some time after you finished all the comfort of the bathroom by blowing your nose and wiping your face, that Yoongi appeared covered up to his ears with a big bouquet of flowers and many gift bags that he left on one of the tables.

You remembered how he approached you and stretched the bouquet to you while mumbling a "You look awful, you're lucky no one else came", you cried even harder when you heard him say that, still, you hugged him tightly, sobbing as you felt him pat your back and recommended you to make friends who had more free time so they could celebrate with you. You also remembered how he agreed to eat from the dinner you had made for them, and you accepted the gifts-which he had told you were part of the rest of the members. Secretly, you were thankful that he had had the surgery just that week, because it was the first time you were alone together, it was the first time you really started to feel something for him.

"Ah, it's been so long since I'm been here."

You almost had a heart attack when you heard Yoongi's voice coming from the entrance. You looked at yourself one last time, you weren't super dressed up, but you were formal enough to understand that you meant business. Besides, those black elephant foot pants looked too good on you.

"Yeah, I seem to remember I had banned you" you joked, fiddling with the button on your shirt sleeve, "I thought you'd be later."

"You told me it was something important" you mumbled, "how could I keep you waiting?"

You don't know how you managed to hold back the urge to thump your chest and throw yourself on the floor, but you were glad you had such good willpower.

"Yes," you nodded, wiping the sweat from your hands on your pants. You didn't know how to bring up the subject.

"Do you like someone?" Yoongi pulled out one of the chairs and sat in it, his gaze fixed on you, on your every move.

You hated his ability to be so calm, though of course, he wasn't the one who was going to propose. "How did you know?" you asked, moving closer to him.

"Soyeon once told me that women tend to dress up more when they like someone" he whispered. The atmosphere was calm and quiet enough that you could hear him without fuss, "and it's the first time I've seen you so well groomed."

You almost hit him when you heard it. You had only tied your hair back.

"Why do you want to tell me? I thought we were on bad terms, or am I wrong?"

"No," you said firmly, taking a step closer to him. Your heart felt like it was going to burst, you hated not being able to have control over him, "Yes I do" you swallowed spit, looking down at him from above. You could tell his eyes were darkening slightly.

"Then what did you call me for?" he sighed, trying to get up, but being immediately stopped by you.

You rested your hands on his shoulders and pushed him down hard, forcing him to stay and listen to you.

For the first time in the night you could notice how his calm countenance transformed into one full of surprise. You squealed inwardly as you saw his pale cheeks tinge pink.

"I called you just because I loathe you" you murmured, inwardly praying he didn't notice the tremble on your lips, "I always did, from the beginning. I hate how you always listened to every single thing I said, how you learned my likes and dislikes and the things I detested; how every time we all went out together you remembered those things and left me the parts I liked the most; I hate how you came to my graduation together with Hobi with the excuse that you didn't want to leave him alone with someone like me; I hate how whenever I felt lonely you noticed and came after me" you swallowed spit, feeling your eyes burn as you watched Yoongi's face turn redder and redder. "But most of all, I hate how you made me hate you so much to the point of making me fall for you."

You both fell silent, you could tell how Yoongi was intending to speak, but it seemed like the words wouldn't come out on their own.

You remembered that day with Jungkook and Jiwon, you had reacted exactly the same.

"You can break up if it bothers you" you said with a trembling voice, grabbing Yoongi's shirt and pulling him towards you, bringing his lips together with yours. You didn't intend for it to be long, you just wanted him to know that you meant it, that you were serious.

It was only for a few seconds, you pulled away from him, looking into his dark eyes. You took a breath and, with the confidence you still had inside you, you told him, "You didn't pull me away."

"You asked me to if it bothered me" he murmured, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulling you close enough to kiss you back.

This one was much longer and more passionate, you even got to feel your breath catch and your legs start to tremble. Luckily, Yoongi seemed to notice that and pulled you to him so he could sit you on his lap.

"Y/N" he whispered against your lips, his gaze swapping between your mouth and your eyes, "I like you too."

A huge warmth greeted your heart as you heard his statement accompanied by a huge, bright smile.

"Yes" you nodded vigorously, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hiding your face in his neck.

You never thought you would feel so comfortable next to him, but you definitely didn't regret anything.

Masterlist.