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golden-cherry · 1 year ago

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deal - cl16 (16/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: You know what's coming - they don't call me queen of slow burn for nothing.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, swear words

Word Count: 3.4k

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A/N: thank you all for your kind words on my engagement! and I'm sorry for this part! love ya. feedback is appreciated!

Charles is so close to you that you can breathe him in. His warm breath gently brushes your face, you feel the pressure of his big hands on your back and the thought that friends shouldn't look at each other like that makes your heart beat faster.

Because Charles is looking at you just like that. As if you weren't friends, as if the connection between you was more intimate than a friendship could ever be. As if he's willing to cross the invisible line that separates his lips from yours.

Your hands, resting against his hard chest, feel the strong heartbeat beneath and your fingers lightly claw into the fabric of the thick sweater as a sign for him to please be bold.

Take this step with me, it's supposed to say. Take this step and come to me.

And Charles even seems to understand. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your mouth, and you're so close you can almost feel his tongue against your mouth as he licks his lips.

And then his hands disappear from your back as he takes a big step backward. Your touch slips from his chest, his scent disappears from your nose, and a distance is created between you that you can not only physically see, but also emotionally feel.

When you look up into his face - a little confused - his features are harder than they were just seconds ago.

"Let's go," he says coldly, tucking his hands, which a moment ago had you pressed against him, into the pockets of his sweater. "I need some sleep before I leave tomorrow, and like you said, we also need to grab a bite to eat and head back home." He turns away from you, takes the few steps to the door, and leaves the store without looking at you again.

Puzzled and admittedly repulsed, you look after the man.

He had been so close to you just a moment ago - and all of a sudden there is an uncrossable ocean between you. What has happened that he is now withdrawing like this? Did you do something wrong? Forced yourself on him? Crossed a line?

No, after all, he sought your closeness first, pulled you closer to him, and whispered all those affectionate words to you that fogged your head and made little butterflies flutter around in your stomach.

But maybe that's exactly the mistake. Maybe you've completely misread the situation. Maybe he behaves similarly with his other friends. While you can't imagine how he would pull Pierre into such an embrace, every friendship is different, after all.

And lastly, you don't know how Charles behaves with his female friends either. The thought of him hugging other girls like that, too, and whispering such flirtations in their ears, makes your stomach tighten involuntarily. A nasty feeling that you didn't even feel when Raphael was flirting with other girls in front of you back then.

You suppress the nausea rising in you and follow Charles, who is waiting for you in front of the store, typing on his cell phone. You lock the door behind you and toss the key into the mailbox, which hangs hidden by ivy vines on the wall of the house next to it. Without looking at your roommate, you start moving. "Well, let's go."

The icy Nice night wind blows in your face and ruffles your hair as you walk back to the car, but Charles doesn't seem to mind in the least. "What do you want to eat?" he asks nonchalantly, still staring at his phone. He seems so far away, as if the moment just now didn't even happen.

You shrug, unsure how to handle the situation. "I don't care. You go ahead and pick something."

"We don't have a lot of options at this point," he counters as your car enters your field of vision. "It's really late and a lot of restaurants have already closed." He continues typing away on his phone as he unlocks the Renault. "According to Google, I think there's a bistro nearby where the sandwiches are supposed to be good. Would you be okay with that?"

"Like I said, I don't care," you reply to him, getting into the car.

"What kind of sandwich do you want?" he asks after plopping down in the driver's seat. "I guess they have one with lettuce, chicken, and avocado." He raises an eyebrow. "I think I'll order that." He tucks his phone away and starts the car before letting it roll out of the parking lot.

"I'll settle for a plain ham and cheese sandwich," you say, looking out the window.

The fact that Charles is pretending you didn't almost kiss just now unsettles you so much that you can barely look at him. And the fact that you wanted to kiss him - actually wanted to kiss him - almost makes you disappear into your seat in shame.

Because, as it seems, he doesn't want to. He draws the line between friendship and something more much more clearly than you do. And he doesn't seem to shift it to suit him. To him, you're his friend, his roommate, a means to an end until he can move into his other apartment.

You are his friend. Friend. Friend. Friend.

"Here we are," Charles breaks through your train of thought. He's already parked the car and points to the bistro on the street corner in front of you. A young man is tidying up the few chairs that are in front of the building and wiping down the tables with a rag. "I'll just get us something to eat. Do you need anything else?"

You look over at him with raised eyebrows. "I don't think we can get anything to eat there anymore."

"Why not?"

Confused, you look at him and point to the young man. "Because he's closing up store?"

Charles shrugs. "Just let me try it. It'll work," he smiles, and when you don't reply, he gets out. He jogs the few feet to the bistro and greets the man with a handshake, then points to the place. A little confused, but very pleased, the employee escorts your roommate into the building.

How could you be so stupid? How could you think Charles would want something more from you than friendship? After all, it's Charles - funny, caring, and so handsome that it partially takes your breath away and he sneaks into your dreams. Why would someone like Charles - someone who could really have any woman on the planet - want more from you when you couldn't even keep someone like Raphael?

You've known each other for three fucking days. What makes you think he could even feel anything else for you after such a short time? How delusional do you have to be to even have a thought like that?

You're on the verge of jumping out of the car and walking home.

How are you supposed to look him in the face now? Charles is not stupid, he would immediately notice that something is wrong. And you can't lie to him either, because he would see right through you. You don't want to face your feelings either, because that would mean that you have feelings for him that go beyond your friendship - and you are not ready for that pain.

When Charles steps out of the bistro onto the street with two bags in his hand, you feel sick. Your appetite is abruptly gone, and just the thought of eating something makes you scrunch up your nose. How are you going to be able to eat anything after what happened?

Pull yourself together, you tell yourself. That's not a solution either.

The only reasonable solution is obvious. The line that you've been pushing back and forth more than frequently over the past few days must stand nailed between you from now on. And it must be drawn up so that you can't cross it as you please. You have to protect yourself, protect your heart - especially after the thing with Raphael - and that's the only way without banning Charles from your life.

Because that's the last thing you want. And you'll do anything to stop that from happening.

"Here," Charles says as he rejoins you, handing you a bag. "I wasn't sure which ham you liked, so I just picked the one that looked the best." He places his own bag on the center console before steering the old Renault onto Nice's streets.

Silence settles between you as you drive home. While Charles takes a bite of his sandwich in the meantime, you pick apart the bread with your fingers.

To build this wall that is supposed to protect your heart, you need distance, which is definitely not possible in your small apartment. And the fact that you share a bed doesn't make matters any better, of course. For sure, it would be smarter if you reinstate your old deal - one of you sleeps in the bed, the other on the couch.

But how are you supposed to set that up after you just agreed on the new arrangement at noon today? Snubbing Charles would be too obvious. He'd notice something was wrong, and he'd definitely be able to conclude that it had something to do with your almost-kiss.

The fact that he will be out of the country for the next few days could be an advantage. The physical distance and the fact that you won't be spending every single second of the day together could build the wall between you up brick by brick. After that, you could claim that you are used to sleeping alone again - humans are creatures of habit, after all. And by then you will have shared the bed only twice.

That shouldn't really be so obvious - right?

"Don't you like it?" asks Charles as you cross the border to Monaco. His gaze lingers briefly on your sandwich, which by now looks a bit messy.

" Um, yes I do," you answer quietly and bite off a piece of it. Under other circumstances, the sandwich would actually taste delicious, but now it seems to have no taste at all. You chew on it a bit before choking down the dry lump of bread. "Thanks for getting us something to eat."

Your roommate smiles at you. "I'm sure my nutritionist would scold me if he saw me eating an entire sandwich in the middle of the night." He looks at the rest of his meal. "Even though it has lettuce and avocado on it." He tucks the last corner of his sandwich between his teeth, then grins at you with his mouth open.

You roll your eyes. "You're disgusting."

His grin widens even more. "You love me," he teases you with his mouth full before swallowing.

You don't even think to respond.

The rest of the ride is quiet, and even when you arrive home, you remain silent. The silence is not uncomfortable, but the tension between you is still palpable. As you stand side by side in the bathroom brushing your teeth, you avoid Charles' gaze in the mirror, which you can clearly feel on you.

The silence, however, gives you the opportunity to prepare yourself for what is about to come. It will be the last time you share a bed with Charles - which sounds like something you've been doing for years. The fact that your friendship feels like this doesn't make it any easier.

If Charles comes home from Italy and you tell him you prefer the couch, he will surely feel put out. And rejecting your closest friend in such a way may not feel right, but keeping you safe is a priority. One thing you had to learn from Raphael.

When you enter the bedroom in sleeping clothes, Charles is already in bed. He's lying on his side, facing the center, and apparently the man doesn't own pajamas, because his bare chest glows warmly in the light of the bedside lamp. He scrolls around on his phone, his upper arm resting on his side so that his biceps look even beefier.

"I set an alarm, hope that's okay with you," he says as you lie down on your side of the bed and slip under the covers. "I have to get out on time, and then we can have a proper goodbye."

You plug your phone into the charger and then place it next to your pillow. "It's all good. We'll be fine." You pull your blanket up to your chin and snuggle in deep, trying to block out the fact that Charles is lying shirtless next to you.

The brunette sets his phone aside, then flicks off the bedside lamp. As the room is in darkness, it feels like he's lying skin to skin next to you. You can feel his closeness, his warmth, and you would love to build a wall of pillows between you to bring the imaginary boundary into the physical world.

You turn onto your back and stare at the ceiling, hearing Charles move under his covers as well, and hold your breath as you feel him rest his hand on your bedding. It's like he's reaching out for your hand.

"I was with my ex yesterday," he says quietly, as if he doesn't dare say it out loud.

You try to suppress the tugging in your chest. You have no right to feel this way when at the same time you wish there were countless pillows between you. You have no right to it when you're trying to protect your heart. You have no right to feel this way about your friend.

"With Annika?" Your voice mirrors his, quiet, calm, hesitant.

You hear his pillow ruffle. He nods. "She's the reason you and I share the apartment. She's living in my first apartment right now. Well, I'm still letting her live there."

You purse your lips. "Your buddy from yesterday - he said he heard about you two and that he was sorry." You fight the urge to reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. Him revealing himself to you is something you didn't expect.

"Yeah, that was Nico." He takes a deep breath. "Annika cheated on me."

Confused, you turn in his direction, even though you can't see him. "And then you still let her live there?"

He turns as well, facing you. "I wasn't a good boyfriend during the years we were a couple. My job was always my priority, I couldn't give her what she needed. She tried - really tried - but I never really got into it and -" He rubs his palm over his forehead.

"- and then she cheated on you." You feel like wrapping him in your arms. "Are you letting her stay in the apartment because you feel guilty?"

"I - I don't know - maybe -" His breath catches and you can clearly hear him struggling with himself. "Maybe if I had paid more attention to her, this wouldn't have happened. If I had taken more time to be with her. If -"

"Stop," you interrupt him harshly, "We're not going to continue this spiral of thought. There's no point going through the ifs, ands, and buts because you can't change it now. You can't change the fact that she cheated on you, and you can't turn back time to make it better. The only thing you can do is do better next time."

The thought of Charles eventually having a new girlfriend and making a real effort with her makes you feel sick. You don't like it, this fucking jealousy that's spreading through you, creeping through your veins like battery acid and leaving a sickening taste in your mouth.

You try to mask it, even as tears spring to your eyes. "I don't know how exhausting your job in the car industry is, but maybe you can find someone who can walk the road with you. Who can travel with you when your job requires it. Who will stay by your side and support you when things get tough and stressful." Your voice trembles, and you hope Charles can't hear it.

"Do you think there's someone like that for me? Who's willing to give up that much for me?" he asks, scooting a little closer to you.

The voice in your head almost screams at you - "me, me, me" - but of course you can't repeat that out loud, so you nod.

In fact, you'd be willing to give up everything for him, even though it's not much, of course. You have no job, no responsibilities except for the apartment, whose rent you don't have to pay, and you'd give anything to explore the world.

But Charles is your roommate, your friend. You want someone for him who can make him happy. Even if it's not you.

"Of course," you answer quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I believe that there is a person out there for everyone. A soulmate to share everything with. Someone who's there for you and with whom you don't have to pretend to be somebody else."

"Hmm." You feel Charles' breath on your face. Only then do you realize how close he is to you. "So there's someone for you, too. Someone who will make time for you, won't let you down, and will take care of you. And most importantly, someone who doesn't fuck other women."

You have to smile. "The latter would be enough for me. But even that seems impossible. After all, look at us. We've both been cheated on."

Charles shrugs. "But if that hadn't happened, we wouldn't be living together now. We wouldn't even know each other, we wouldn't be friends." He exhales. "The fact that we both got cheated on really sucks, of course - but we found each other through it. And I wouldn't trade that for anything in this world."

Something tugs at your heart. You place another brick on the imaginary wall between you.

"I don't want to go to Italy."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

Charles exhales a breath. "You said you were just going to sit here and wait for me to come home." He sounds concerned.

"I was kidding," you try to lighten the situation. "I'm going to work, of course." The lie tastes bitter on your tongue. "And I still have Kika and Pierre." You pause. "And Lando."

You can feel your friend stiffen beside you at the mention of the Brit. "I thought you're happy with the tiramisu you had here on site?" His voice sounds colder and more bitter than it did a few seconds ago.

"I am." You turn away from him, onto your back, to put distance between you. "But there are other desserts to try, aren't there? Or sandwiches. Pasta. Or something else. I've got to get these few days over somehow."

Unlike you, Charles notes that the meals you listed are all things you've already eaten together. That you would want to possibly top those few memories you have with him with Lando leaves a sickening taste in his mouth.

"Well, if you have to work and you're meeting with Kika and Pierre and we're facetiming in between, you might not have that much time to try other dessert. Or sandwiches. Pasta. Or something else," he repeats your words.

"We'll see. If there really is someone suitable out there for me, I'm definitely not going to find him on our couch." When Charles doesn't answer, you declare the conversation to be over. You close your eyes, snuggle deeper into your blanket, and try to block out the fact that the person you want - the one who might be right for you - is lying shirtless next to you.

You already have, Charles answers you in his mind, taking a deep breath. Your scent still clings to his bedclothes from noon today, his skin tingling as he breathes it in. Me. Me. Me.

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midnight-on-pluto · 1 year ago

Note

Hi. So this is my request.

Tenya Iida x reader where the readers parents kick them out because they want to be a hero and are in UA. Then they just show up at Tenyas door in the pouring rain to ask if they could sleep at his house for a night. And Tenya is just so 😠mad. Protective Tenya activated.

so sorry that this took me ages to get out! I had no motivation for months and am finally attending my drafts and rebranding lol! so here's the first of many to come ♡♡

warnings: emotional abuse, reader is kicked out by their parents, self-deprecating and unhappy thoughts

SFW, fluff, angst but not really, mostly comfort.

I should have been a doctor, I thought. My clothes clung to my body, skin prickled with goosebumps as I collapsed onto the ground. The unsigned, now drenched, permission form was bunched in my fist, my nails digging into my skin.

“Why would we sign this?” My mother’s voice was ringing through my mind as I recalled tonight’s events. “Just so you to go kill yourself for some dream?”

“Stupid,” I scolded myself. The cold rain only picked up as I began to cry, choked sobs being drowned out by the pouring rain.

“If you don’t want to give up on this silly dream then leave!” My father slammed his fist down on the table as he spoke. “I don’t want some mediocre hero claiming to be my child. Go play hero somewhere else.”

I took a deep breath, eyes shutting tightly to blink away my tears. “This is pathetic,” I said to nobody. My hands rubbed the tears off my face, replacing it with mud from the ground.

I stood, legs tired. I didn’t even think to look at where I was going, just running as fast and far as I could. I looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, the only light coming from the streetlights. I patted around, luckily smacking something hard and rectangular shaped, my phone.

I pulled it out, 3% battery remaining. Quickly I pulled up my GPS, trying to see where I was and what the closest place to go was. I’d run close to UA, luckily. Perhaps I could see if anyone was still there, although unlikely.

I tried looking around more, finding a familiar street name. Tenya’s street, I thought. Something inside me sank, dreading just showing up at his doorstep, soaking wet with tears and mud staining my cheeks. But it was the only place to go, and I trusted him more than anyone else in my class.

The walk wasn’t very long, but it felt like forever. The rain only worsened, I would definitely be getting sick. By the time I got to Iida’s street, my phone died. I continued, walking up the street and stopping at the mailbox reading IIDA. A light was on inside, I could see in the dining room. Tenya sat there with his family, eating dinner. They were smiling, even laughing as his older brother said something, a huge grin on his face.

I took a deep breath before walking up to their door. I stood for a moment, enjoying the roof over my head before shutting my eyes and raising my fist.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

I took a step away from their door. Eyes willing themselves to open and hands behind my back, gripping my wrists tightly in anticipation.

A few footsteps came from the otherside before their dark blue door swung open. A woman, blue eyes and black hair, answered with a smile. I opened my mouth for a moment but said nothing. As she studied me, I could see her smile fade lightly and her face contorted into confusion.

Tenya came up behind her, his brother following behind. His blue widened after seeing me, hand going to the woman’s shoulder and leading her out of the way.

“Tenya,” was all I could manage for now. “Hi.”

The girl and Tenya’s brother shared confused looks, then left us alone. Tenya stepped out onto the porch, hand immediately flying to my forehead.

“You’re cold,” he said. “What’re you doing out in this weather?”

“Can I stay here?” I asked him softly, “just for the night.”

His head tilted, eyes focusing on me. “Sure,” his hand slipped into mine before he used the other to open his door again. He pulled me in, shutting the door behind us.

“Stay here,” he told me, gesturing to the welcome mat I stood on. I looked at my feet, wet socks leaving dark wet marks on the fabric. Shit, I thought. Forgot shoes.

The woman peaked from the dining room archway. Tenya’s brother tugging on her shirt, “leave them be, mom.” He whispered. I didn’t look over at them, too embarrassed to look. Instead, I studied the inside of his home. The beautiful stairs leading to the second storey, their living room to the left of me, their dining room on my right. Bookshelves lined their walls, golden trimmed books glittering in the light of their entrance chandelier.

It wasn’t long before Tenya came back, a grey bath towel with him. He put it around my shoulders, telling me to dry off before he disappeared into the dining room. I pulled the warm towel to myself, covering my face with it in embarrassment. My legs started shaking as my thoughts wandered, tears threatening again.

I could hear light whispering from where Tenya had gone, a woman’s voice questioning, then Tenya’s voice answering. I inhaled sharply, willing my arms to move so I could dry off before he came back.

Tenya’s footsteps approached, I kept my gaze limited to the floor, my hair blocking the view of anything else, rain lightly dripping down to the mat. I felt my cheeks burning.

“Come upstairs,” his voice was calm, understanding. “You need to get out of those clothes, take a bath.”

I only nodded and let his hand grip mine, letting him guide me upstairs, turning a few corners and into his bathroom.

“I’m going to start a bath, okay?” He waited for my nod before turning on the water.”Feel this, tell me if it’s too hot.”

I stepped towards the bathtub and reached my hand into the water, “it’s good.”

He sat on the edge of the bathtub while it filled up, hand still in the stream of water to regulate the temperature.

“Do you wanna tell me why you’re here?” He asked. His voice was soft, not an ounce of annoyance or grievance coming out.

“I was kicked out,” I spoke. “No more home for me, I guess.” The light chuckle that left my lips turned to a sob and I quickly breathed deep to stop the impending breakdown from happening.

“What?” His voice now sounded slightly angry, but still filled with kindness. “Why would your parents do this?”

I didn’t say anything, still trying to hold back my tears. I only shrugged my shoulders pathetically as an answer, and he turned the tap off and stood up.

“Take a quick bath, you can use anything you’d like in here. I’ll wait outside so just knock once you’re done and I’ll bring you some clean clothes, okay?”

I nodded again, then he left. I let the tears fall from my eyes the moment the door shut. The towel fell from my shoulders and I sniffled back as I peeled the clothes off my body. Stepping into the steaming water, skin tingling as it enveloped me, I finally let myself cry. The water smelt of my favourite scent, something I assumed Tenya added while filling the tub.

I dipped down, fully submerging myself into the water and coming back up for air. I curled into a ball, arms reaching for the bottles of soaps and creams on the tub corners. I started reading what they were through blurry eyes.

Birch scented shampoo and conditioner, moisturizing body wash, shea butter body scrub. I used the scrub, rubbing it up my arms and silently crying.

I took a long bath, testing out every product on his bathtub. I heard his brother come to say goodnight to him, asking if I was okay and then leaving once Tenya told him I would be. His mother came to say goodnight with his father, asking what was wrong and asking if I would be here for breakfast tomorrow morning.

After a while, the water had turned cold and the bathroom smelt like a mix of Tenya. I reached into the tub, pulling its plug and reaching for the towel. I dried my feet off first, stepping onto the tiled floor and then rubbing the rest of my body until it was slightly dry, no longer dripping everywhere.

I walked up to the door, giving it three light taps.

“Can I come in for a moment?” Tenya’s voice came.

“Sure.”

The door handle turned and Tenya walked in, handing me a small pile of warm clothes and then leaving, closing the door shut behind him.

I dressed myself, then stepped into his hallway. He’d given me dark blue sweatpants and a matching hoodie, both too big for me. I had to pull the drawstring of his sweatpants tightly and tie them into a bow.

Tenya was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall dressed in his pajamas. When I stepped out he quickly turned to me, eyes landing on mine as I finally looked up at him.

“Did you eat dinner?” He asked quietly. I shook my head, no. “Follow me.” He led me down the hall and into his bedroom, which had the bedside lamp on. A mug of hot tea and bowl of soup were placed alongside the lamp, and glass of water with them. He had set up a mattress on the floor of his room, blankets and sheets fitted on it.

I started to walk towards it, but was caught by Tenya. “No, you take the bed tonight. Have some soup too, please.”

I turned to him. “Tenya, I can’t take your bed. I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“Please,” he begged. I gave in, walking to the bed and gesturing to him that he sit beside me. I sat cross legged as he handed me the bowl of soup.

“They don’t like me being a hero,” I managed in between spoonfuls of soup. “Not good enough for them.”

He looked at me. “You don’t need to explain if you don’t wish to,” he said.

“It’s okay, that’s really all they said.” I lied. My mother’s shrill scream of, “don’t bother coming back until you can say you’re done disappointing this family,” ringing in the back of my mind.

I wished I could fool him, but the look in his eye was showing his true disbelief in my lie. His face was left with a frown, teeth chewing on the inside of his lip while he thought.

“How could you not be good enough for them?” He asked quietly, but not low enough that I missed it. “You’re an excellent student, an even better hero. You save lives, and it’s not good enough for them?” His voice was starting to rise slightly, anger lacing his tone.

“Iida please,” I tried to get him to lower his voice. “It’s really not a big deal, they just don’t like heroes, that’s all.”

“A parent is supposed to be a hero, someone who uplifts their kid’s dreams and supports them.” He was at a normal voice level now, his navy eyes locking with mine. “How could they kick you out over your dreams?”

“My parents aren’t like yours,” I whispered to him, “they don’t understand, just please keep it down.” My hand found its place on his before I knew what was happening and he froze slightly, eyes flickering down to his hand before looking back up at me.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered. “Just know that. I would’ve died a million times if you hadn’t helped me.”

I smiled at him, “thank you.”

“Now please finish your soup, it’s late and if you don’t warm up you’ll catch a cold.”

"Okay."

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#mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha angst #bnha angst #tenya iida #iida tenya #tenya iida x reader #iida tenya x reader #iida x reader #tenya x reader #angst #fluff #pluto’s asks 🌙

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adventuringblind · 10 months ago

Text

Don't Leave Us

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: With the mass amount of online hate and a relationship that's not public, it all gets too much.

Warnings: graphic depictions of self-harm, graphic depictions of suicide

Notes: I hope you're doing okay, Nonny! Maybe this will help you like it does me :)

side note: I am not above begging for interaction. Fill my inbox with feral driver thoughts! Interact with my posts! It feeds my praise kink and makes me giggle and kick my feet 🥰

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not like the toxicity of social media is a new thing. She's always known that it could happen. She just wasn't expecting it to be so... much.

Her relationship with Max and Charles isn't out for the public. There are dangers that come with opening that up for everyone to get a glimpse of. Reporters waiting to make snide remarks. Fans that want to bash on the drivers they dislike.

Plus, she's not famous. People don't notice her. At least - they didn't until recently.

Some WAG account had managed to get photos of her with either Max or Charles. Not the three of them together. Speculative fans determined she must be playing both of them.

Not all of them, some people defend her. Those comments make her cry out of relief that at least someone isn't trying to tear her down.

She doesn't bring it up to either of the boys. They have enough on their plates as is. Stress and sickness become her new best excuses to not go out in public.

Sure, she's isolating herself and not talking to anyone. Carmen and Lily keep trying. She's just not ready to show her face.

Nothing is sacred anymore. The rumors are too much. Even avoiding all social media isn't enough. She can't even leave her house without someone trying to discreetly take her photo.

Her skin burns with attention every time she steps out the door. She can't eat knowing people are always looking at her. She can't even go to the shop to get groceries or to her mailbox.

It gets worse by the day. Soon enough, someone figures out where she lives. Knowing she has a stalker makes every ounce of security she once had vanish.

It's miserable seeing her information leaked out for everyone to see. Privacy is now a luxury of the past. It's enough to send her spiraling.

When her safety is called into question, Max and Charles bring her to Monaco. They are willing to risk it for her. Their attempt at giving her some piece of mind by staying in the same apartment only makes her thoughts darker.

She's the reason there is so much negative publicity. The sharks are circling them, just waiting for one wrong move. Is she ready to be the catalyst for her lovers' downfall?

The thought sends her stomach up her throat. The thoughts swirl around her head, paralyzing her body into a perpetual state of fear. Stuck in a luxurious Monaco penthouse. Because people being toxic and stalking her is such a horrible problem to have. She should just suck it up; pretend everything is fine.

So then, why is it so hard? Why can't she just be alright?

One week. A plan in her head and a smile plastered on her face. The boys haven't asked about it. Their concern shows in the facial expressions, but they don't push. Maybe it would be better if they did. Send her already crumbling walls to the ground.

She deep cleans on Monday. She does her best to make sure the apartment isn't in disarray, that her own things are packed away, so they won't have much to deal with. The contrasting red and blue of Max and Charles' clothes are the only things left in the closet when she's done.

Speculations start again on Tuesday. Max and Charles spend all day in some PR meeting about it. It gives her time to sort out her affairs without them hearing her. She cooks them dinner to help ease the frustrations. Their teams don't want them to come out, but they do.

Wednesday, they leave to their next destination. She doesn't leave the hotel room despite the concerns of others. Carmen and Lily come around at some point. They eat in with her and kick out the boys. It feels normal for the first time in months. She almost breaks and tells them.

Thursday is media day. She feels for both boys as they get asked invasive questions about their love life. They look stressed. She gets hugged a little tighter that night. It calms the thoughts, but it's not enough. They hurt more every day. She's just wants it to stop.

Practice on Friday goes well for both. Max and Charles are in better spirits. She drags herself out to eat with them. the boys don't care who sees. She does. The anxiety nearly suffocates her. eyes crawling over her skin. Please, make it stop.

Saturday is a wreck. The qualifying is difficult for both her partners. Their relationship status is once again coming under fire. The speculating is becoming extreme, enough for the whispering of the paddock to become deafening to her ears. She spends her time hiding away, writing her last thoughts in messy scrawl.

Sunday, they turn the weekend around. The podium has always suited them. Smiling for everyone to see and dousing each other in champagne. She smiles too, even though it hurts.

They fly back to Monaco that night. Conversation turns to going public despite team wishes. They are willing to risk it for her. She can't bring herself to say yes. They worked hard to live their dreams; she won't ruin it for them.

Monday comes around again. The notes are laying out on the table. The boys are with their friends, some kind of brunch get together.

She leaves the bathroom door unlocked.

The bath filled, her clothes still on. Her thoughts finally still. Tears streak down her face.

The water is cold.

Then it's red.

~~~~~

"I worry about leaving her alone." Charles pulls the car back into its spot.

"Well, if we brough her along it wouldn't be much of a surprise, yes?" Max checks his watch again. "Plus, what could she have done in the fifteen minutes we were gone?"

They haul the ridiculous number of snacks to the front door. They decided last week they would see if they could coax the female out of her depressive state, just for a little while. Maybe get her to confide in them. If not, then at the very least a therapist.

The distance is damn near suffocating. She's so close physically, yet so far away mentally. Always staring at the walls with a distant look in her eyes.

The apartment is eerily quiet when they step inside. The kind that Charles despises after living in a chaotic house with two brothers and three busy schedules his Maman had to keep track of.

He drops the bags and peers around the entry way. Then searches the corridors until he finds one of the bathroom doors closed.

Charles knocks on the door but receives no response. "Cheri? Are you not feeling well?"

Charles almost dives out of the way when Max comes barreling down the hallway. The Dutch tries the doorknob, heavy breathing filling the odd silence.

Charles pales at the sight revealed to him. Paralyzed that this horrific scene could even be a possibility. Is he dreaming? He has to be - there isn't any way for this to be real... right?

"Charles!-" the Monegasque is dragged from his thoughts. Real or not, Max needs his help. Scratch that - she needs his help. "- Get an ambulance!"

Charles fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes the call. Max is desperate trying to stop the bleeding from the vertical slit traveling her forearm. "Is she...?" He can't finish the thought. Heart being through his chest at the possible answer.

"Pules is there but faint." Max sounds like he's desperately trying to hold back his tears. His mind working desperately to keep her alive.

Charles must space out. He doesn't remember opening the door or watching her be carried out by the swift paramedics. The car ride doesn't register, not until they are already in the waiting room.

Max hands him her notes. The paragraphs she wrote to them. A final goodbye in messy scrawl, but the tails of her letters still curled.

"She did it for us, Charlie, because she thought she was hurting us."

They both break down in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Charles violently sobbing. Neither of them respond to their messages. Phones buzzing with calls that go to voice-mail.

A doctor comes calling her name. Charles is only half listening. Specifically looking for either a confirmation of death or the relief of hearing that she's okay. Max seems to be paying attention. His shoulders sag, and there is a soft look on his face when they are left to their own devices.

"She's alive, Charlie."

He erupts until tears once more.

~~~~~

Everything hurts. Her thoughts are fuzzy. There is something soft beneath her.

The white ceiling is paired with the burning smell of alcohol. A sterile environment. Meaning-

Fuck. How did it go so wrong? How had they managed to keep her alive?

The beeping on the heart monitor picks up. A sign that she's definitely alive and in a hospital.

Her attempts at moving are futile. There is too much pain and exhaustion to do so. A pulsing behind her ears drowns out the thumping of her heart.

"Rest now, amour."

It takes a single stroke of Charles' fingers on her cheek to make her entire facade shatter into nothing.

She's mumbling incoherent words. It's a string of apologies, rants of anger and embarrassment, and confusion at why they are even here with her. They are continually reassuring her. They coo into her ear how they are so glad she's alive. That she doesn't have to fight whatever battle through hell this is alone.

Recovery is difficult. They have to put her on a suicide watch, but Max and Charles somehow manage to keep her out of the psychward. Mostly because they want to be with her at all hours of the day.

They miss a singular race for her. Then drag her to the next. Part of the deal they had made was that they won't sacrifice their careers for her.

They negotiated with the teams. Managed to wriggle around their soft spots and get them to approve going public. Max and Charles want to openly defend her. No more public executions. They'er pulling her out of the shark infested waters that is the media.

It's slow. People ask about it sometimes; why Charles and Max had missed that race. None of them give an answer. They aren't obligated to.

"Why fight for me?" She asks. a year after the events.

"Because chéri, we love you enough to help you carry the burden."

"Honestly liefste, we fight for what we believe in. We believe in you and the love you have for us."

"Maybe it's selfish, but we want to share that with you. Keep you here with us to go on adventures and explore the different paths life offers."

"So don't leave us yet. You are worth every sacrifice."

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snailpaste · 7 months ago

Note

Can i get some McSugarDaddy Crocodile headcannons but reader actually has feelings for croco? ive been thinking about this a little too much lately

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile x GN!Reader

CONTENT: Crocodile x GN! Reader, SFW, kind of mutual pining

AN: This isn't what i wanted but if I didn’t post it now I think it’d just go to the great fic graveyard in my drive (30 and counting) sorry for the wait ;-;

You’d caught crocodile’s eye at one of the many Gala’s he hosted (after all, charity was always a brilliant way for him to further his influence, to make connections and gain power), where he’d struck up conversation with you after asking to share a drink. It had gone well, and by the time the event had drawn to an end he’d given you his den den number and offered to pay for your taxi home.

Crocodile wasn’t one to chase after people, much more content to work on furthering himself or his many business enterprises. He simply didn’t need to – there were enough many men and women willing to fling themselves at him should he ever be in need of company – which is why he found it so strange that, not but two days after meeting you at a Gala, here he was, den-den pulled closer towards him on his desk than usual, eyes flickering to it every so often as he worked through the growing heap of paperwork.

rest under cut ->

If anyone were to ask why, not they would ever question him, he’d simply tell them he was waiting on an important business call, rather than hoping for a stranger, who’s laugh he unfortunately hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, to call.

Your arrangement started as “purely transactional,” in the words of Crocodile.

He didn’t expect sexual favours (at least, to begin with) but simply wanted your company at events, a presence beside him to help gnaw away at the tedious meetings and public appearances he endured in the name of business. You’d wake up with a voice message on your den den, telling you to be ready at 7, with details scarce aside from to check your mailbox, inside which was a new outfit fitting for whatever event he saw fit to bring you to. Over time as he learned more about you, they became more and more tailored to your tastes.

He kept things distant at the start. His touches were modest, an arm around your waist or shoulder, a hand guiding you at the small of your back, but nothing more. You found yourself begging to crave his touch, leaning into the warmth of his palm or wrapping your own around his arm.

His conversations, while interesting, never betrayed any of his true emotions, and he opted to leave you with cash rather than buying anything else for you specifically. Gradually, you began to hope might actually start to open up to you. What did he look like unguarded? How did he look when he was at peace

As the weeks passed, you found yourself growing accustomed to his presence, the initial intimidation and curiosity replaced by a quiet comfort. Crocodile listens to whatever you have to say intently, eyes never leaving your face, always asking the right questions and relishing in the way you blush when he leans closer to you, blowing cigar smoke out the window and brushing your hair out of your face.

While Crocodile isn’t out of touch with his feelings, he does prefer to ignore them. He immediately noticed how you changed towards him, leaning your head into his hand when he cupped your cheek and laughing a little bit more openly, and sneaking looks when you thought he didn’t notice – he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart feel just a little warmer.

Your dates, as you unknowingly began to phrase them much to his amusement, became far more frequent, with him using anything as an excuse to be around you for longer. Crocodile, it seemed, had an uncanny ability to understand your desires. He took you to places and events you’d been wanting to go to without you asking, such as art galleries, cosy bookstores and grand libraries, or bookings at theatres or cinemas.

Crocodile encourages you to pursue any and all of your interests- there’s nothing he admires more than when you go off on a tangent about something you’re passionate about, or your dedication. With him, money isn’t an issue, he’ll happily pay whatever fees you might need to achieve.

Your relationship progressed from you being a pretty thing draped off of his arm, another way for him to flaunt his wealth and power, to something more personal. He surprised you with a visit to something you’d mentioned excitedly to him weeks ago, booked the wing of a restaurant you fancied for just the two of you, and invited you with him to the opening evening of an exclusive art exhibition of his favourite movement.

It was only when he caught himself thinking about you with a smile while smoking his evening cigar, that crocodile decided to address how he felt– whatever it was.

After a long night that left you nodding off and leaning against him, crocodile opted to take you back to his house. He’d carried you up to a guest room with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders, placing you down in the bed and mumbling a soft good-night into your hair. It was then that, in your half-asleep stupor, you accidentally confessed your feelings, clinging sleepily to his shoulders and mumbling for him to stay with you. He didn’t make a big deal of it, but he felt his heart skip a beat, and allowed you to cuddle against his chest until you fell asleep.

The following morning he told you plainly and simply, wanting to cut the tension that ran thick as you drank him out of the corner of your eye (and how could you not, with normally slicked back hair in loose waves, ringed hands sliding you a coffee across the island, his bare chest peeking through his dark brocade dressing gown) that he was interested in you, interested in a relationship more than this.

After this, he begins to open up- lets you run your hands through his hair from behind, and stay at his house as often as you’d like. His laughs become lighter and more genuine, and you find he has a dimple in his left cheek whenever he smiles just so.

He still buys you gifts and treats you, but now they’re far more intimate, and more tailored to your tastes than ever. He takes you with him on his business trips around the globe, letting you soak in the sun or encouraging you to explore the attractions while he attends to business.

He surprises you with gifts delivered directly to your house, a box of your favourite treats, each delicately wrapped in coloured paper, a potted plant he collected from your shared trip to alabasta, or something he saw you looking at or considering buying with his own note attached. Another time, he appeared at your doorstep with an assortment of flowers, (he’s very into “classic courting”) each flower was one he picked carefully to reflect a message to you.

His love languages are quality time and acts of service, but he craves physical touch and, as you find, becomes quite clingy when he’s tired. He loves sharing baths with you, holding you to his chest and relaxing in the warm bubbles, and on his one day of rest per week, lazing around in bed with you during the early morning hours.

The time he realised he was well and truly in love with you was when you were sitting in his lap, his arm looped around your waist and hand smoothing over your cheek, as you had reached up to trace your fingertips over his raised scar. He’d felt his heart jump into his throat at the feeling, realising he’d never allow anyone else to touch him there, and when you smiled at the light dusting to his cheeks, he realised he was well and truly fucked.

#snailpaste: moots #snailpaste: inbox #snailpaste: writing #op:crocodile #crocodile x gn reader #crocodile x gender neutral reader #one piece x gn reader #one piece x gender neutral reader #crocodile x reader #one piece x reader

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seat-safety-switch · 3 months ago

Text

Couple of years ago, I wanted a new job. Well, "wanted" is a very strong word. "Needed," is closer. That makes me sound needy, though, and I'm told that's a big turn-off for interviews. Honesty is the best policy, according to my old Uncle Todd, who wasn't actually related to me in any way but remained a peripheral part of family barbecues until the train accident. "Legally obligated to as part of my parole requirements." There. Anyway, I didn't get the job.

It wasn't because I lacked qualifications. In fact, the local Pep Boys® – remember those guys, with their enormous fibreglass heads, and terrifying dead eyes? – needed a guy like me, who was willing to bend the rules. "Parts compatibility" was holding back their profits, in my mind.

What good was having a Mr. Goodwrench carburetor on the shelf when you mostly had Fordites turning up and asking if they could have Motorcraft and only Motorcraft? I knew those things were the same, and even if they weren't, anyone worth their salt could whip up an adapter plate in an hour or so. Two, max, if they got wounded playing Thumb Rodeo on the bandsaw. Their Mustangs would run just as well on the Traitor Brand's products. Physics didn't change when the dealership down the street gave you 2.89% instead of 3.25% and you abandoned the brand loyalty of your forefathers over a couple bucks a month. I digress. Let's get back to the interview.

If you've ever interviewed at a retail job, you know it's very embarrassing. They make you fill out psych profiles, to make sure you don't shoplift. Like this right off the tip. Bossman's bossman wants you to know your place. Here's the problem with psych profiles: they were made for normal people, and the cheapo consulting firm they hired was simply not capable of understanding the unique mental structure of the Car Person. Another weakness that I planned to attack, knowing full well that the survey would be computer-graded. I simply filled in all the Scantron bubbles with my No. 2 pencil, and waited for the offer letter to arrive at my mailbox.

A few weeks later, I went in there. Not so much because I was grumpy about not getting the job, but because I needed a Weatherpack connector and I knew that they were understaffed and unlikely to do much about a little friendly shoplifting. Unfortunately for me, the entire store had been shoplifted. Right into its constituent molecules. Turns out my score was the lowest in history, and corporate just decided it was best to be done with the entire neighbourhood, by way of an inanimate carbon rod launched from their orbital platform.

It's not all bad. I got a job with the United Nations Corporate Crime department afterward based entirely on my witness statement. Those plush assholes didn't even lock up their pen cabinet: I made like fifty, sixty bucks on eBay before they canned my ass too.

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year ago

Note

Sagau touched starved reader but you know got trauma so not comfortable with being touched. Like staring like a cat for affection but terrified of being hugged back or things like that

You got it, Anon! Though, I will warn you a little: I'm not going to go too deep into detail with the trauma stuff. It'll be very brief.

Touch Starved! Reader Wanting Hugs From Zhongli, Diluc, and Al-Haitham...With A Twist.

Zhongli

The moment he realizes that you are touched-starved, this old man isn't exactly sure what to do. After all, you got some extreme PTSD going on after the whole "imposter-creator" fiasco.

He does try to approach it as a topic, but since you're weary of (quite literally) everyone and find suspicion in every action, you kind of catch on to his intentions. And Zhongli notices this, but he's still going to take it slow.

"I assure you, Your Grace, I will not push your boundaries lest you are uncomfortable." He's sincere and means every word. To him, this is like signing a contract. He's the God of Contracts, so this is especially important to him. What he says is solid as stone—his dedication to prove that is clear as day.

This man is also very keen—he sees how you look like a touch-starved cat when you want affection, but are too scared to approach and ask. It kind of breaks him, but he doesn't show it because he wants to prove that he's not helping out of pity, but understanding.

In the end, Zhongli will probably be able to be near you, and get in a few (with consent) head peats that you are very well aware of. It's going to take time for you to warm up to him before this guy gets to hug you.

Diluc

This guy probably understands your intense cat-staring the most. He sometimes feels like that after his father passed. He's very unsure and awkward of what to do, if I'm being honest.

After a little while, of course, Diluc feels like he should place the offer out. He feels too awkward and guilty for just noticing you like this and not doing anything about it.

"Your Grace...I hope I'm not crossing any boundaries, but please know that I am willing to offer you any assistance you need." It's only later does he realize you wanted hugs and were too scared to ask for it.

Yeah...he's not exactly that open with his emotions either, so it will definitely be awkward, but he is willing to give it a few tries. Diluc will also be the first to pull back and apologize if he realizes you are in any discomfort.

To say it took a while is only putting it in the simplest form.

Alhaitham

Oho...if you though Diluc was awkward, consider this man. He's more "thinking machine that feels" than like his roommate ("feeling machine that thinks"), so he definitely does not understand the "social cue" that is your cat-stare.

He has done research (aka read books way back in the days and remembered the contents) and understands the mental turmoil you've gone through, so he has gone through the steps of trying to get out of your way, and also try and link you to a therapist. This, of course, kind of fails.

"Your Grace...please get some therapy. It's beneficial for your mental health." Quite literally might drag Tighnari or someone else into this if he can't convince you. This is quite literally out of his expertise.

The entire "I want a hug" cue flies completely over his head, and had it not been for Kaveh (and/or Nahida), he probably wouldn't have realized his mistake.

...Yes, it took what felt like 3 eternities just for him to try and give you affection. Must I say anything else?

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: AND HERE WE ARE! Anon, I am so sorry for taking 30 years to do this, but I have finished it! Boy, I was so tired and stressed these days, but I'm kinda glad I finished this!

For anyone waiting for The Lost Shining God of Celestia Pt. 2, please have some patience—I currently do not have much motivation to work on that series. Instead, feel free to dump requests in my mailbox!

Also—feel free to dump any HSR requests into my mailbox! I want to give them a try :)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin self aware #sagau #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #genshin cult au #sagau brainrot #sagau cult au #sagau angst #sagau isekai #imposter sagau #sagau zhongli #sagau alhaitham #sagau diluc #sagau impostor au

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xiouahh · 3 months ago

Text

☆ numb ─ 02.　love

The moment I opened my dorm mailbox, a large pile of letters and presents tumbled out onto the floor. It was nothing new ─ Luckily, I had brought along a paper bag to put all of the letters and presents in. Gathering up the gifts and cards, I placed them carefully inside.

“ [name]? “ A familiar voice calls out, I look up to see a boy with platinum blonde hair, with a single orange-red streak running down one side. He’s towering over me as his gaze is fixed on mine.

I watched as his eyes scan the scattered notes and presents around me, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. “ Ah, more letters to respond to? “ he says, crouching down to assist me in putting everything into the paper bag. I nod in response, smiling warmly at Kazuha.

As I gaze at the letters and presents scattered around me, I couldn’t help but wonder — wasn’t he also a popular figure, just like me? After all, he’s been quite helpful and always maintains good grades, which earned him a spot in the student council, too. Yet, despite his popularity, I noticed that he doesn’t have any gifts from his admirers to put down in a paper bag, just like mine.

I turn to Kazuha, who’s still helping me put all the cards and presents into my paper bag. " Do you have your letters and gifts stored somewhere as well? " I ask him, hoping that he isn’t feeling left out.

Fortunately, he responds with a smile, saying, " Yes, I’ve already kept them safe at my dorm. " His answer assures me that he’s just as well-loved as I am — even if his cards and gifts aren’t with him at this moment.

“ You have a lot of admirers, if I’m being honest, I think they even outnumber mine. And it leaves me wondering, not to be forward or anything, but are you not interested in taking a chance on any of them? " He asked, his gaze locked onto mine as I contemplated his suggestion.

"I don’t know.. Most— no, all of them only like me for my looks, can you believe that? It’s as if they don’t even see me past my appearance, and it’s so frustrating. " I said with a huff, shaking my head.

“ Ah, yes... I can see how you may feel that way. But believe me when I tell you that there is at least one person out there who loves you for who you truly are, regardless of your current struggles, or appearance. That person may be hiding behind all the noise in your life, but they exist, I assure you. "

He takes a moment to admire the last card in his hand. The image on the front is a sketch of a cat, rendered in deep purple ink. The creature’s expression is one of contentment, with its eyes closed and mouth pulled up into a contented little smile. He lets out a small chuckle as he looks at it, clearly pleased with the result.

" You’re an amazing person, [name]. You’re hardworking and responsible, surely one of your admirers will see it. "

I watched as he looked directly at me, then placed the final card in the paper bag before standing up. With his hand extended towards me, I took it and got to my feet. I gave him a warm smile.

“ Thank you, Kazuha. “

masterlist　|　previous　|　next

SYPNOSIS.　You had always been the independent, strong-willed person who didn't need anyone's help. Despite your best efforts, your trauma continues to plague you, making it difficult for you to trust and connect with others. That is, until you meet a young man who is everything you've wanted in a partner. Despite his aloof demeanor, he manages to break your emotional barriers and become a source of healing and support for you. As you learn to trust and open up to him, he becomes the healer of your heart, helping you heal from your trauma.

AUTHOR.　Might post a few eps all together then not post for a few days, my laptop’s charger broke and school starts soon (⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠)

TAGLIST.　 @arlecchino-soon-main @skyoverkill1 @yo0ngleswag @scaraenthusiast1 @skyvella @lloovvv @ciellez @asukahiriko2 @trulyylee @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @animeobsessed56

#genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact au #genshin au #genshin impact smau #genshin smau #scaramouche #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi smau #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #numb smau #dividers from cafekitsune

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dipperpines-kin · 1 year ago

Note

there could be an inscription

OMG ART OF MY OC's ALREADY!!!??? I FREAKING LOVE THEM! Arlow's ghost form is JUST how i imagined it would be! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ARTWORK YOU ARE A DELIGHT!!

#Flatland #flatland ocs #arlow #alba #dayo #wills mailbox ask #not really a mailbox ask but this was in my mailbox

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unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin · 4 months ago

Note

Please make this into a fic au idea. A world where couples take on a third partner that is basically a stay at home spouse as a show of their wealth or success. This would either be with Becky and Seth or Brandi and Cody and it could easily be a Yandere sort of thing

Take Care Of You

Summary: In a desperate attempt to pay off your crushing debt you sign up for a new program that matches you with wealthy couples looking for a third.

An: this idea has been in my head since wrestlemania this year, and I’m planing on it being a multi chapter fic. People said they wanted this with Cody and Brandi, but I’d be willing to do versions with other wrestling couples(Seth and Becky, miz and maryse, Mox and Renne, Brit and Adam, etc)

Warnings: Yandere, Yandere!Cody and Brandi, sort of sexism but only to reader, they treat readers like she’s meant to be a homemaker but don’t think women in general should be, classism, controlling behavior, money abuse, they’re daughter Liberty is a baby in this, fem!reader, power imbalance

Taglist: @melissahausen @writtingrose @peachmango-kombucha @xkennyxomegax @fiskers7136 @bellalutionn @tummyyellin @thesusbunny

“God damnit…” you mumbled as you pulled yet another bill out of your small mailbox slot. It seemed like every time you checked your mail all you found were these stupid red envelopes telling you you needed to pay for something else.

You made your way up the two flights of stairs to your tiny one bedroom apartment, leaning back against the door to shut it. Your feet hurt from your 12 hour shift at the restaurant, you were sticky from spilling shit on yourself all day, and you desperately wanted to collapse in your bed before you have to be up on 5 hours for a shift at your second job of a local coffee shop, but you needed to shower first.

You walked over to the table, tossing your purse onto the couch and planing on tossing the bills into the already large pile of them, but stopped when you noticed another envelope you hadn’t read down in the lobby. A part of you wanted to ignore it, if it was another bill you could at least act like you didn’t see it, but it looked slightly different than the normal things you got. The envelope was a cream color and had a logo you didn’t recognize on it. The main thing you noticed about it was that your address and name and everything was handwritten.

You set the other stuff down and opened the envelope. Inside was a hand written letter.

Dear, Y/n L/n

Thank you so much for your interest in our program. After careful consideration we are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted! Please call the following number to schedule a consultation to begin the next steps.

Sincerely, Coast Connection Agency

Coast connection agency? You stared at the letter for a moment before it clicked in your head what exactly you were looking at. Months ago, probably 6 months ago, you had gone searching on the internet for any way to earn some extra money and you found this website. It was a new program, only a few years old and was extremely selective, but its purpose was to connect well off couples with a third partner. From what you read it was a bit like a sugar daddy/mommy situation, but the couples were…rich rich. The website said up front that NDA’s would be signed and that the relationship would be, on some level, a business deal.

If you were smart, you would have ignored the website completely. It was one of those ‘to good to be true’ things, or something you sign up for and end up on the news because you went missing, but you had been so desperate. You had just lost one of your jobs, behind on bills, house completely barren of food, and nothing but an overdraft fee in your account, so you took the chance and signed up. There had been application after application, most of it asking you about your financial issues and job history, you even had to take a personality test, and apparently you had done okay because you had made the cut.

At the bottom on the letter was a phone number, and with the letter was a pamphlet of reviews from others who had done it. Most of the reviews were positive, talking about how it helped them get out of debt and completely changed their way of life. One even claimed it helped him find his ‘soul mates’ and that he was so happy with the couple he was matched with. You didn’t necessarily believe in soulmates, and even if you did you highly doubted that they could be found in a relationship like this. But you couldn’t argue with the results, people seemed to be happy with what they got from the agency, maybe this was the step for you to take. You decided to call tomorrow after your shifts and pinned the paper to your fridge before slugging off to shower and finally get some sleep.

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

“…and we have one final question for you, Ms. L/n,” the woman on the other end of the phone told you. You’d been on the call for three hours now, answering what felt like a hundred questions. When you’d called a week ago they had said you’d need to block out a large chunk of time for the phone interview, but you hadn’t expected it to be this long. You also were slightly surprised by the questions. They were all about your preferences in the relationship if they found you a couple. They asked about spending habits, restaurants you liked, if your drank, clothes you liked, brands you enjoyed, past relationships, what you would do in certain situations, if you’d be open to sex in the relationship, and everything else under the sun. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting but this wasn’t it.

“Okay,” you waited a moment for her to ask her question.

“Would you be willing to relocate for the relationship?”

You didn’t answer immediately, and your eyes drifted outside. You lived in a relatively small town, in one of the only apartment complexes they had. It was about three hours from where you grew up, and you had moved here for an old ex. The only reason you stayed was because it was too expensive to move again, leaving you feeling trapped in this town.

“…yes.”

“Wonderful! I think we have enough information to create a profile for you, and we will match you with a couple as soon as we can. Results will be emailed to you, but we always warn that the couple must approve the match before it’s sent to you and we cannot guarantee that a match will be made, so you understand?”

”yeah. I’m mean, yes, I understand,” you nodded though she couldn’t actually see you.

“Perfect. You have a wonderful rest of your day ma’am.”

“You too,” you said before the phone disconnected.

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

You couldn’t believe it. You got a match.

After your interview you didn’t hear from anyone for two months, and you started to worry that you made a mistake. Luckily, they hadn’t taken any super personal info so you wouldn’t be completely screwed, but after the interview questions they knew a hell of a lot about you, which is what worried you. But one morning you happened to check your email and found one from the company.

Congratulations! You have been matched with a couple! Attached to the email is a photo and some basic information. If you would like to continue with the process please email back immediately.

You quickly opened the attachment and were met with a photo of what had to be the most picture perfect couple. It was a man and a woman, both dressed formally (it looked like they were at some sort of dinner party.) The man had bleached blond hair and what looked like a tattoo on his neck, though his head was turned in just a way that you couldn’t quite see it. The woman looked like the pinnacle of beauty. Her hair and make up was perfect, and her eyes had a shine on them that made them look like pools of honey.

You weren’t really sure how long you stared at the photo, it was so mesmerizing. They were both very athletic looking, muscles evident on both making you think they must do something in the health industry. It was also evident that they had quite a bit of money. From the clothing to the accessories and the food on the table in front of them, it all screamed luxury. You hadn’t worked at a lot of fancy restaurants but the meal in front of them probably cost more than your paycheck.

Next, you moved onto the written information. There wasn’t a tone, just a few snippets of their life and what they wanted out of the relationship. They were from Atlanta Georgia and want someone willing to come live there. They had a daughter, but no info about her was there. They are looking for someone who would take on house hold responsibilities and have a sexual relationship with both of them. You’d never thought of yourself as a homemaker, and children never felt like something that was on the table for you, but you didn’t hate the idea. And honestly, the idea that these two very attractive people had chosen you was a bit of an ego booster. You were good enough to get their attention.

You read over everything one more time before deciding to go for it. You typed up an email and sent it before you could chicken out. You had said you were interested in moving forward and at least meeting the couple. At the very bottom of the email they sent you was the names of the couple. Brandi and Cody Rhodes.

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

Unknown: hello

You frowned down at the message as you walked out of your shift for the night. You’d closed so you hadn’t had a chance to check your phone for a while, the message was sent hours ago.

Um, hello? Who is this?

You were shocked when the person responded almost immediately.

Unknown: sorry, should have introduced myself. It’s Cody, from the website. We got the green light to reach out to you

You stared at the message, shocked for a moment. It was him, the cute guy from the email. He was texting you, right now. You were stood still on the sidewalk when three little dots popped up as he continued to type.

Unknown: this is y/n l/n, right?

oh! Yes, it is. Sorry I didn’t answer sooner, I just finished my shift

You panicked slightly at the fact that you hadn’t responded sooner. What if he thought you weren’t serious about what was happening? If he thought you were rude and didn’t want to talk to you any more? Rich people can be so hard to predict when it comes to what will or won’t offend them.

Unknown: oh, are you heading home? We could talk when you get back home, I don’t want to keep you out longer than you need to be.

You sent a last message saying it’d take not be about 10 minutes before booking it home. You didn’t have a car and your town didn’t really have public transportation, the best was a bus that stopped rides at 5pm, so that meant you were basically running back to your apartment. Once you got there you were quickly getting up to yours and pulling your phone out again to add the number as a contact.

You: Okay. Im Home

Cody: good to know you made it back safely.

Cody: I have my wife Brandi here too. We wanted to get a conversation started since you said you were interested

You’re nervous we’re going crazy as you read over the messages. It’s seemed so weird, you were talking to some rich couple you’d never met before but they wanted to pay for you to live. Not only that, but also have a relationship with you. You almost felt… dirty when you thought about it.

You: it’s nice to meet you both

Cody: we’d like to cut to the chase, we are looking to get into something slightly quickly. We don’t want to rush you at all but we’d like to meet as soon as possible

You hesitated at his message. Should that be a red flag? They want to meet even though this is the first time you’ve ever spoken.

Cody: We’d be willing to pay for you to come out to Atlanta to meet. We’d pay for everything like the flight, hotel, food, even whatever you’d be missing out on from work.

You: I don’t want to seem rude or anything, but this is the first time we’ve ever spoken

When he didn’t respond immediately your heart sank. You shouldn’t have said that, god, why were you so stupid?

Cody: we understand your hesitation, we’ve just have been looking for a while

Cody: would you like to FaceTime? Then you could at least see that we’re who we say we are

You: um, sure. Just a warning, I’m a mess. I just got off shift.

Only seconds later the call for the video chat popped up on your phone. You took a second to take a deep breath and then pushed accept.

The man from the original photo you’d been set popped up on the screen. He was sat back on a couch wearing a sweats and a teeshirt, and next to him was the woman who was dressed similarly. After a second both smiled at you.

“Hi,” Cody greeted.

“Hi…” you gave a nervous wave which you immediately regretted. God, why were you being so awkward?

“You look pretty good for just getting off a shift.” You blushed slightly at his words and watched as his wife smacked him gently.

“Ignore him, he’s a flirt,” Brandi told you. “He doesn’t think about the fact that this may be awkward for you.”

You laughed slightly nervously but gave a little smile. The rest of the conversation got a little less awkward as you got to know each other. Most of the conversation was about you, them asking what you did full time and what you spent your free time doing. They were…nice, and they clearly loved each other in the way that they interacted.

“So, we’d really like to meet you in person.” Brandi finally said. “Like Cody told you we can pay for your whole trip and we can start to get to know each other better.”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to take your money if we don’t even know if it’s gonna work.” You admitted.

“It’s really not that much to pay for a trip, and it would be no strings attached. You could decide to not do anything and we won’t be angry.” Cody assured you. “We just think it would be important for us to talk in person. We travel for work but will be home for the week next week, we’d like to do it then.”

You bit your lip as you thought about the offer. You felt a little guilty about taking money, but a part of you loved the idea of being able to take a week of work and go on a trip without being worried about bills.

“Um… okay.”

Both of them smiled at your answer. “Perfect. We’ll get everything lined up and payed for!” Brandi excitedly said. “Do you have any preferences on what hotel you stay in or what airline you take?”

You shook your head. “It’s your money, it’s up to you.”

“Okay, we can talk about it more tomorrow, I assume you’re tired after your shift.”

You all said goodbye before hanging up and getting ready to go to sleep. As you brushed your teeth you realized that you felt slightly giddy after the conversation. It was like a school girl crush, they were nice and you felt good talking to them.

As you got into bed your phone pinned and you reached over to check it. It showed a notification from PayPal, someone had sent you $200 and you had a message from Cody.

Cody: enjoy a day off sometime

#aew #fanfiction #wwe #yandere #cody rhodes #cody rhodes x reader #brandi rhodes #brandi rhodes x reader #yandere!cody rhodes #yandere!brandi rhodes

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yoonia · 9 months ago

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the bedroom hymns ● chapter xiii

⟶ Chapter summary | Once again, the magic portal have granted your wish to a broader adventure, allowing you not to only see the magic realm with your own eyes but also learn more about it. And you have found someone who is willing to guide you through it.

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy AU, Fairy Tale retelling ⟶ Word count | 5,2k words ⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; include some form of classism, black magic, alcohol consumption ⟶ Story Masterlist: The Bedroom Hymns | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi ⟶ Author’s note | This took a bit longer to finish, and since it got a bit too long, I decided to split this part into two separate chapters. As mentioned in the previous chapter, the setting in this story may be included in the other stories that are also parts of the Once Upon A Fantasy collab. There won’t be any spoilers and you won’t have to read the other stories before getting into this to enjoy it. Have fun reading!

chapter xiii. red strings-1

You never realised it then, or perhaps you simply have forgotten, but your hand seems much smaller in size compared to Yoongi’s.

Yoongi easily reminded you of it the moment he first came to greet you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it like a noble gentleman. And he has yet to let go of that hand since.

Yoongi has his hand and long fingers wrapped around yours, engulfing your hand completely in a gentle hold while he takes you across the meadow. He keeps his pace slow to allow you to follow him comfortably while enjoying the view.

All around you, the world seems to sway with the wind, drifting away out of your touch while he keeps you grounded to him. Every urge you had to pinch yourself to once again make sure that you are not dreaming has long vanished, when the warmth of his hold, his touch, the deep timber of his voice, and his whole presence are enough to let you know that he is real, and that he is truly here with you.

You can still feel the tingle on your skin, right where he pressed his lips. Slowly, you can feel that tingling sensation surging through your body, until it resides deeply in your chest, making your skin flush and your heart thrumming rapidly in your chest the longer you are with him.

Meanwhile, Yoongi remains oblivious—or he pretends to be.

He keeps his eyes mostly looking ahead as he continues guiding you to walk with him between the rows of crops, merely throwing quick glances over his shoulder in the middle of explaining to you about the farmland, the crops, and the farmers who are working diligently in the fields to gather the crops before the sun starts to descend.

Yet you can barely pay much attention to his words. Still feeling dumbfounded that you get to see him again, in a place that is no doubt far, far away from where you met him last. You are also getting more curious to know the meaning behind the pleased look that he is giving you—one that seems to be hinting that he may have somehow expected to be seeing you today.

“I assume it is just another coincidence that you are also here, traveling through the farms?” you playfully ask him as he comes to a brief pause right in the middle of the field.

Here, the row of crops have grown just as tall as your shoulders, and it would have made you feel as if you are being swallowed in them if not for Yoongi who is keeping you close and helping navigate your way through them. His face appears between the swaying crops as Yoongi glances over to you and smiles.

“What if I told you that it may not be a coincidence?” he says to you with a calm voice and just a tinge of tease in his words. “Perhaps it has been decided by fate that we would be seeing each other again.”

“Fate?” you muse with a smile, “So you believe in such a thing?”

Yoongi tilts his head and gives you an unwavering smile. “Don’t you believe in fate?” he asks, his voice sounds playful, but he does seem genuinely curious to hear your answer that you find it quite endearing.

“I think the Fates are the ones that hold the key to every coincidences, no matter how small,” he later adds as he pulls you to walk by his side, the hand that has been holding yours is now placed at the small of your back, guiding you through the thick meadow while he continues to speak, “like how I caught a little dove one day in a market full of people, watched the beautiful thing fly away with almost no hope of ever seeing her again, and yet here we are, walking hand in hand across the cornfields.”

Your cheeks burn because of his words, yet you hide it by looking away. “You’re speaking with too much jest.”

Yoongi leans down, denying your effort to avoid his eyes. “You don’t believe my words, then? That it was all thanks to fate that we got to see each other again?”

Trapped under his attentive gaze, he makes you feel nervous. Yet you find it hard to look away from him. Not that you even want to.

“Since you saved me the last time we met, I suppose I can learn to trust you,” you say to him while biting back a smile and feigning annoyance, acting as though his comment didn’t send your heartbeat racing a mile a minute. “You know what? I think I can trust you. I don’t see the harm in having a little faith, after everything that you’ve shown me so far.”

“I feel honoured to have earned your trust,” he says with the corner of his lips tilting up to a smile. He straightens up and continues to guide you through the rest of the meadow until you finally reach the edge, where trees are lined up to mark the estate’s borders and a dirt road spreads wide on the other side. “A wise man once said that a little goes a long way.”

You laugh at his comment. “Are you the wise man in question?”

As he takes you under a tree, letting the canopy of leaves above your head shelter you from the pale golden afternoon sun, he turns to you with a gaze that looks so deep it makes you want to drown in it.

“If you want me to, then I am willing to become one for you.” Yoongi smoothly says, while you can see his gaze dancing with mirth. “I’ve said it before, haven’t I? I can be whatever you want me to be.”

“Is that so?”

With a shrug, Yoongi simply continues to add, “I can be flexible. I can be whatever and whoever you need me to be. A mercenary, a guide, a guardian, a friend, a farmer.”

His eyes seem to glow under the shadows formed by the thick leaves above you as he silently gauges your reaction. When you say nothing to him in return, he then simply continues with, “and I can be wherever I want to be, or in places where I am needed. Across the borders, across the land and mountains, and beyond the sea—”

Yoongi lifts a hand and tugs gently at the hood of your cloak until it falls back, revealing your face and hair. He catches a stray strand of your hair that has slipped from its bind with his delicate fingers and carefully tucks it to the back of your ear. A gesture that feels so intimate that the flutters inside your chest go wild.

And he makes it feel even more intense with his eyes never leaving you as he speaks to you softly, “I can continue following your shadows, if only you’d let me, making sure that you’ll never find yourself feeling like you are all alone in this wicked world.”

As he finishes talking, you can almost hear the unspoken words that he is withholding from you. You can see it through his lingering gaze, in his secretive smile, and in the way he is looking at you knowingly, silently telling you that he knows more than he is letting you on.

In that moment, you finally realise the reason why you are able to recognise this look, and why you feel so familiar with it.

Because you have seen it before; through your father’s eyes, when he first welcomed your arrival at the Stargrave Castle and on the day he passed you the magic keys; on Nanny Abigail’s smile, whenever she brought up any story about your mother and the memories from your childhood that you had long lost; and in the reflection that you see in the mirror whenever you have to lie to your lady maid about your past afternoon activities while she is brushing your hair to help you prepare for the day.

A look that holds a secret, something that is so deeply concealed and carries a lot of weight that it makes you feel like you are standing on the precipice of your sanity.

As you fall silent, Yoongi reaches out, delicately catching your wrists with his hands. Without saying a word to you, he gently runs his thumb across your skin, and your body reacts almost immediately.

You feel yourself swaying before you realise what is happening. You start leaning closer, your chest brushes against his, and that is when you can feel it.

A tingling sensation runs through your body the more you lean into him. It seems to begin from the touch of his fingers on your skin, yet it quickly spreads all over his body, brushing against yours while drawing you further into him.

You remember feeling this same sensation whenever you walk across the magic portal, which has been growing stronger as you continue using your father’s magic, and the more you continue using his magic keys.

Magic. What you are feeling is magic. And it is coming from him.

“You,” you gasp softly once realisation dawns on you. Your head is spinning as your mind slowly starts putting all the pieces together until it becomes almost too overwhelming for you to think clearly. Yet you still manage to find your voice, allowing you to question him, “You’re not a regular human, are you?”

Yoongi simply smiles in return and tilts his head. “What makes you say that, little dove?”

He makes no move, so you take the initiative by stepping into his personal space, getting even closer to him to test your theory. So close, that your chest nearly brushes against him, and you can feel the magic growing stronger, radiating from his body in a soft hum that fills your senses—as if the magic that is coming out of him is welcoming your presence.

Being this close also allows you to feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat vibrating from under his thin white shirt, almost in tune with your own. You have no idea what to make of this, so you put that thought aside as you try to focus on the murmurs of mana that are trying to reach out to you.

With a deep inhale of breath, you look up, meeting his gaze to whisper, “Because we’re no longer in the human realm. And just like me, you would need a special means of travel to be here.”

Like the magic that you can sense coming from him. A strong spell. A portal.

You bite your lips, having no idea how to question his ability without having to reveal your secret in return. You can almost hear your father’s voice, reminding you to keep the magic portals and his keys a secret through the echoes going inside your head.

“Within each one of the silver doors, there is a strong kind of magic. One that has been so demanding of our family’s powers, exists under my control, and it is also the type of magic that should be kept secret, no matter what. Once you go through them, you will understand why it is important for me to defend this castle and our home territory.”

Noticing your hesitance, Yoongi brushes has fingers on your wrists once again, drawing your attention back to him to see his smile. “Perhaps, if you would give me a chance, I can explain everything to you.”

“Yes, please explain,” you find yourself whispering back to him, “Tell me everything.”

Yoongi nods and starts glancing around. “Not here,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers between yours, entwining them together. “Follow me. This conversation may require us a place to sit down and be comfortable, preferably with a few glasses of drinks to share, maybe a meal? If I remember correctly, you have a taste to sweet and savoury snacks.”

Hearing that he remembers about your previous ‘date’ brings a smile to your face. “Where are you taking me?” you question him as he begins taking you away from the flourishing meadow. “Are you thinking of kidnapping me now that I vowed to trust you?”

“Sounds tempting,” he teases with a wink. “But I promise, I’ll keep you safe until you are to return to—” Something flickers through his gaze. A deeper secret. A question. But it is gone when he continues to add, “wherever you came from.”

He reaches out to you with his free hand, playing with the hood of your cloak to place it back in place, as if hiding you from sight. “I want us to have some privacy as we chat. Which would be quite impossible to do now that the farmers have caught your presence,” he says while his throws a subtle glance over your shoulder.

Carefully, you follow his gaze and steal a quick glance to see a few farmers surreptitiously watching you from under their bamboo hats with curious eyes.

How odd, you wonder. They paid no mind to me at all earlier while I was walking through the fields. As if they couldn’t see me.

You turn to look at Yoongi again, wondering if he has anything to do with the unwanted attention. Maybe they are looking at him, instead of you, and wondering why he was pulling a random stranger across the fields?

You have so many questions, and for some reason, something tells you that he may have all the answers. But how much can you truly trust him? How much can you share in return?

You keep these questions to yourself, however, and instead follow him without a word as Yoongi once again begins to guide you with him, taking you further away from the pastureland and the curious farmers through the dirt road.

“Y’Old Whispers.”

When Yoongi talked about taking you to a place that would be comfortable and safe enough for you to have a chat, you didn’t expect him to be taking you to this place.

Written in ancient letterings, the tavern’s name—which is engraved right above the tavern’s front doors—draws you back to the conversation that you had earlier with the farmers. You are beginning to question if fate truly does have a hand in leading you to this place, albeit through Yoongi’s hands.

Located on the other side of the farmer’s village, the old tavern sits right in the intersection where the dirt road crossing the farm estate and the farmer’s village meets the gravel-covered road leading towards the busier downtown. A stone bridge hovering over the nearby bank that borders between the farming region and the more advanced town seems to be the connecting route that helps people travel from one region to another.

Right now, the path seems vacant. Which isn’t much of a surprise when most of the villagers are still so hard at work. There is nothing visible except for the scattered dirt and carriage tracks that have been imprinted on the gravel road. There are empty carriages parked on the side of the road, which no doubt would be filled with crops by the end of the day.

“You’ve heard of the place?” Yoongi asks after hearing you whisper the tavern’s name with such familiarity, while you merely shrug, feeling intrigued to find out what you may find inside more than you are curious to know how Yoongi could have known about this place.

Just like how he knew exactly where to take you during your great escape back in Narlès.

“A kind local farmer who I encountered earlier today told me about this place,” you explain to him, “He said something about it being the perfect place for travellers to recoup, rest, and gather some information.”

Yoongi seems pleased to hear this. “I guess that means I made a good choice of bringing you here, then,” he proudly boasts, “Still not convinced that this is the work of fate?”

Choosing not to share your brief thoughts about fate, you simply give him a coy smile. “We’ll have to see.”

Chuckling softly, Yoongi takes your hand in his and guides you to enter the small tavern. He pushes the old wooden door that swings open with a creak, and the sounds from within filters out through the door; the low murmurs of conversation shared between the patrons, the sounds of clinking glass and cutleries, and a faint melody of a lute being strummed from somewhere inside the bustling tavern.

“Shall we?” Yoongi invites you to walk in first as he holds the door open.

Walking into the tavern, a blast of warmth welcomes you. The air inside is thick with the scent of seasoned timber and the comforting aroma of hearty meals. There is also the strong scent of brewing alcohol wafting around you. Yet what draws your attention is the scent of aromatic herbs which seems to be coming from the kitchen, making you wonder what kind of sustenance and brews that this place may be offering its guests.

Looking around, you cannot help but compare this place with The Rare Roots.

Inside, the tavern seems much smaller and perhaps more humble.the atmosphere seems a bit calmer, compared to the loud and rowdy air that you had often seen back at The Rare Roots.

Just as you had expected, the light inside is kept dim, but there are wide windows on the other side of the tavern that are open towards the bank and the dirt road bordering the village. The windows allow the golden sunlight to filter into the room, adding natural warmth within while the hearth at the end of the room remains unlit.

Perhaps it will remain that way until later in the evening, when the night turns cold and the hot meals no longer bring enough warmth.

At the corner of the room, there is a young man playing the lute while serenading solemnly for the patrons who are dining and drinking around him, most seem to be chattering mindlessly over the tune that he is playing.

So that’s where the music was coming from, you wonder with a smile, admiring the musician who seems to be enjoying himself despite the lack of attention he seems to be getting.

Yoongi places a gentle hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the main bar. The bar, which seems to be made of old wood, is stretched along one side of the room, right at the far back. Under the dim light, you notice the ornamental carving adorning the front side of the bar which appears slightly worn down and is fading with age. There is a story there, you realise, although you might not be able to know what it’s all about when you know almost nothing about this place.

Behind the bar, wooden shelves fill the wall from the floor to ceiling, with an array of colourful bottles and tankards lined up within the racks. Hops filled with the local brews are lined up at the sides, and you notice that there is also a hint of a rich aroma of herbs wafting from within.

Right at the bar stands the bartender, a seasoned figure with a mop of unruly ginger hair on top of his head, a dust of five o’clock beard around his sharp jaw, and a friendly twinkle in his eyes. He glances up from the glass that he has been busy polishing in his hands, offering a nod of acknowledgement at Yoongi while the latter greets the bartender as if they are old friends.

“Business seems to be running well today.”

The bartender grins at Yoongi as he sets down the glass that he was working on, switching it with another from the counter, continuing his work to polish the glass as he answers Yoongi, “’Tis harvesting season, this is. Folks come by during their breaks, have their meals and drinks here before going back out to the field there. More folks will come in the evening for tomorrow’s work, but yer not staying here that long, I bet.”

You take a quick glance around the room, soaking it all in. Noticing only now the distinctive features of the patrons filling the tavern to realise that the ‘folks’ that he mentioned seem to vary. Sitting in small groups, they separate themselves between travellers, local and foreign merchants, mercenaries on duty, and also commoners and locals who look like farmers and workmen who have no doubt been working for the harvest.

Turning back to the bar, you find that the bartender already has his gaze on you. He silently watches you with a knowing look in his eyes, as if he is trying to read you. But then a friendly smile appears on his face as he turns to Yoongi once again to ask, “The usual?”

Yoongi nods. “You always know what I need.”

The bartender chuckles. “Don’t I know it better than other folks would,” he says with a quip. “The table’s been cleaned in the morning. I somehow had a hunch you’ll be stopping by today.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi says to the man before guiding you away from the main bar, going past the corner where the musician is still playing his lute, and then turning to the small stairs that is hidden from view on the other side of the fireplace.

The short flight of stairs takes you to a more private quarter right above the crowded ground floor. Instead of a closed room, the space you are walking into is an open balcony. There is a row of tables and seats set up near the railings and outer columns that are covered with vines, a smaller version of the bar’s wall mounted shelves you saw downstairs stretches out on the adjacent wall, all filled with similar bottles of drinks and tankards lined up in order.

Yoongi walks ahead with a familiarity in his attitude, looking as if he owns the place. He then goes towards one of the nearest seats and pulls it back for you. “Milady,” he says with an overly dramatic poise, making you think of a refined noble. The notion only makes you smile as his action seems a bit too graceful for a man wearing a bamboo hat and cotton pants covered in dried soil.

“Thank you, my kind Sir,” you accept his offer by playing along by curtsying at him, which draws out his deep chuckle. After helping you settle in your seat, Yoongi walks around the table and claims the seat right across from you. “I suppose it’s safe to assume that you are a regular to this place?”

Yoongi smiles. “This place has a great view, as you can see,” he says, pointing out at the balcony.

You take a look around, realising that he is right. From the balcony, you get to see the sight of the vast farmland that you visited earlier—which you had suspected to be a part of your father’s secret estate—that is fully visible on one side. Looking over to the other side, you get a clearer view of the village’s borders; the river, the intersection, and the crossing bridge leading towards the main town.

Seeing all of this, you realise that this private space would be the perfect spot for you, or anyone else, to watch the comings and goings between this village and the neighbouring town.

Turning back to the table, something catches your eyes that makes you stop. Right in the corner of the table where you are sitting at, there is a familiar-looking crest that have been skilfully engraved into the wooden surface. The same crest that you had once seen printed on the reports handed to the King by the royal advisors about the suspected rebellion rising among the commoners.

It only takes a moment before it dawns on you.

“This is a viewing spot for you and your brothers of the mercenary, isn’t it?”

Yoongi has a smile on his face when you look back at him. For some reason, he seems—pleased, that you manage to catch on so easily. “You are quite perceptive,” he says. “That is correct. Me and my men often gather here. Sometimes we’d be here for work, either it’s for aiding a merchant who has some business in this place and needs our protection. Other times, we would come here to do a simple surveillance work, but we mostly use this place as a rendezvous spot and to recoup just as you had suggested.”

Right as you are about to question whether the bartender or any of the men downstairs have been a part of his army, the bartender himself appears at the doorway, approaching your table with an easy smile on his face. The worn wooden floor creaks softly beneath his heavy steps. His looks remind you a little of the barkeep, Sir Elias, who is just as friendly and as massive as this man looks—although you must admit that the older barkeep back home seems to be a bit taller and more muscular.

You lower your hood to greet the kind bartender as he sets down a pair of tankards filled with the local brew and a large plate filled with fried meal; spicy chicken wings, deep fried sweet potatoes that have been chopped in small strips, flour-coated fried vegetables and sausages, with buttermilk biscuits on the side.

Yoongi takes a peek at the plated fried meal and raises his eyebrows.

“Hey,” the bartender says, shrugging and crossing his arms, “You said to get you the usual.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I was thinking about your special stew and seasoned chicken. The biscuits are fine,” he says, before turning to you, “You’ll have to forgive O’Moran here, as he rarely serves a distinguished lady in his business.”

“That there is true,” the man, O’Moran, admits proudly before bending down at the waist for his own version of curtsy. “The name’s O’Moran, M’lady. As a local establishment, I must shamefully admit that we’re lacking in our fancy menus. The stew might take a while to boil. We’ve been busy since dawn, so we keep running out of our specials today.”

Smiling, you simply regard him with a nod. “That’s quite alright, Sir. I’m actually more curious to try on your local brew. I’ve heard good things about the special drink that was said to help mend exhausted travellers like myself.”

There is a glint in his eyes as he listens to your compliment. You figure it may have something to do with the secret behind the drink’s special healing effect. You can almost hear the wheels in his mind turning as he silently tries to figure out who you are.

“Then you are in for a treat, M’lady. This here is our special brew. Made not only to restore your health, but also magic for some,” he says, drawing a smile from you.

“Then I shall savour the drink, together with the snacks that you served us,” you kindly say to the man, who later scoffs at Yoongi.

“See? The Lady doesn’t mind your boys’ favourite snacks,” he boasts with a chuckle while Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Do you folks need anything else?”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll call you up if we need anything else,” Yoongi says to the man, while O’Moran shrugs.

“I’ll leave you folks be, then. I’ll go down and have a look at that stew and bring you some when it’s ready,” he says as he turns away. “And some refills to that drink,” he adds with a wink.

You thank the man one last time before he walks away, disappearing through the small stairs to return to the crowded bar and the kitchen downstairs. Once again, you are left alone with Yoongi in the privacy of the secluded balcony, accompanied by the trickling sound of the flowing river nearby and the breeze that is slowly cooling down as the day is closing into dusk.

Taking one of the drinks, you take a careful sip of the brew, tasting it in your tongue. A rich taste of herbs fills your mouth, and you take your time savouring it.

Closing your eyes, you focus on the other sensations that are rising from within as warmth starts flowing through your body. A dust of tingles spreads through your skin, while everything else on the inside seems to be mending together. Your exhaustion slowly melts, your chest seems to feel lighter and it feels easier to breathe, while your muscles no longer feel as tense as they were after dealing with your royal duties before venturing through the magic door this afternoon.

“This is…quite nice,” you mutter as you open your eyes, loving the way your body feels after drinking it.

You look up, noticing that Yoongi is watching you closely while he is enjoying his own drink. “I assume that as you’ve heard about this place, you must know what this drink does to our bodies.”

“You can say that,” you answer him with a grin. As you watch him taking another drink, the words from the old farmer return to you, reminding you of what he mentioned before about the local brew being made in this place—

“Just say yer new ‘round here and he’ll have ye the fine brew of his that’s said to be good for young elves.”

Earlier, his words had only made you think about how it was supposed to refer to you, making you wonder if the farmer had indeed sensed something about yourself which you haven’t been able to identify for yourself.

But now, as you watch Yoongi closing his eyes briefly as he savours his drink, you begin to question about his secrets. “What are you, really?” you find yourself asking him as the curiosity grows on you. “Who are you? How do you travel between realms?” Your eyes briefly turn towards the engraved emblem by the table and wonder, “Is it safe to assume that your men is capable of doing the same thing?”

“So many questions,” Yoongi muses with a soft chuckle as he puts down his drink. He carefully leans forward and says, “So many things to unpack. I don’t even know where to start.”

There is something in his voice that makes you feel wary, the hidden challenge that he seems to be giving you making you grow alert against him. It makes you want to draw back, to take back all the words that you had just given him the moment you realise that the more he reveals his secrets, he would only make it fair by demanding the same honesty from you in return.

“You can start by explaining what you can,” you carefully say to him, allowing your curiosity to win.

Yoongi taps his fingers on the table, contemplating his answer. And just as expected, he responds to you by saying, “And what do I get in return? What do you have to offer for an honest answer?”

#yoongi scenarios #k-vanity #btscreaturescoven #bangtanwhq #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #suga scenario #suga angst #suga fluff #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #yoongi angst

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sykilik101 · 2 months ago

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@themattress @ultraericthered @illustrious-rocket @pepsi-al @shitirishaterssay @azelmaandeponine @gouthepro @cosmicheartz @warlordess @dchan87 @hollylu-ships-it @miyatoriaka @pokeshipping @johnnyd2 @zdbztumble @weirdgirl92 @sykilik101 @lovingtheshow @wiseabsol @echidnapower @gabbaana @dbzebra

My pals!!!!!!!!! My friends!!!!!!!!!! My darlings!!!!!!!!! My honeybuns!!!!!!!!!!😘😘😘😘😘😘

All of you genwunners are invited to the amourshipping wedding which is about to be held once gen 9 ends!!!!!!!😘❤️😘❤️😘😂😘🥰🥰🥰🥰

Food and drinks will be available for free!!!!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

Cos pokeshipping is dead you genwunners!!!!!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

So suck it up losers!!!!!!!!!!!

I missed you, homie! I was gettin' lonely not seeing so many exclamation marks in my Asks, but you have returned! This also means the return of these fics, so let's go!

The bedsheets were cool to the touch as Misty collapsed onto her bed. The gentle whir of the air conditioning was the room's only salvation from silence, sunshine managing to sneak its way through the blinds. She rolled onto her side, her nose nestled against the pillow. His smell had long since been washed out, but she was nothing if not willing to fool herself.

Misty traced a finger along the comforter, watching it curve and angle itself to her touch. She savored how soft it felt against her fingertip; she settled her entire palm against it, pressing down into the mattress. Maybe if she used enough pressure, she could simulate the way his sleeping form would feel next to her.

Ash had been nothing if not true to his word; phone calls were her weekly treat (or whenever the boy found himself in a Pokémon Center), and the occasional envelope containing a letter and photos graced her mailbox. She'd saved them, of course; each one would be admired before being lovingly placed inside a box for safekeeping. They were her connection to him when he felt so far away.

However, no voice on the other end of a line, no scratchy handwriting or imperfectly framed shots could compete with a held hand, a pair of lips touching its other half, a hug that could go on forever and never lose its warmth. A sigh escaped her; she'd taught herself how to handle the yearning, how to pretend his voice was whispering her name in her ear, how to find the color of his eyes no matter where it hid.

Naturally, none of it compared to the real thing.

A chime rung through the gym, and Misty shoved her face into her pillow with a groan. A trainer had arrived, but she was in no mood to entertain someone's desire for a badge on her day off. She was experienced, however; eventually they would get the hint that nobody was coming to the door, and she would be allowed to return to her daydreams.

Another chime, however, washed away any hope of that happening.

With a low sigh she pulled herself from her bed, trudging the few steps to her door where the intercom was stationed. Her flare had become as widespread as her skills; surely that was enough justification for her snippy words towards the unsuspecting victim, right? She's paint a small dab of professionalism over her inflection, but "get lost" would be front and center.

She pressed her finger onto the button, not even bothering to clear her throat. "This is Misty. I'm sorry, but today's my day off, so you'll have to come back ano-"

"Pikachu pi!"

"Well, you heard her, buddy, we'll have to come back later."

Misty's heart practically grew legs and sprinted its way into her throat, eyes widening as she found her breath momentarily stolen. The cusp of a grin began to shake her lips as she felt the bottoms of her eyes warming. She knew he was likely joking with his reply, but just in case-

"Ash?"

No response.

It couldn't have just been a figment of her imagination. His last call had been mere days ago; she could still call to memory the slant of his lips as "Bye, Misty" tickled her ears. His voice was so distinct and clear; even after days, weeks, months of missing his presence next to her, she'd never mistake that tone of his, the one he loved saving for jabs aimed at her.

Without another word she bolted from her bedroom, nearly stumbling to the floor as she raced for the entrance of the gym. Make this right turn, speed down this hallway before drifting left, then a quick right-

The glass entryway hid no guests; silhouetted by Cerulean City's sunset was a boy with a cap, a beaming Pikachu, and a smile that she'd only seen the pixelated and photographed form of for so long.

Misty couldn't tell if she wanted to take precarious steps or blitz towards him; her legs stumbled forward awkwardly as she found some semblance of a middle ground between the two desires. Ash, seemingly aware of (and amused by) her disbelief, waltzed through the glass doors.

"Hey, Mist."

The two were only a handful of steps apart, but the nickname was enough for Misty to throw gravity to the wind, practically leaping into the boy. Her arms ensnared his torso; Ash had survived worse things than a potentially crushed rib cage, he'd be fine. The previous warmth in her eyes was beginning to grow hot, a vice slowly tightening around her throat.

"Ash, what- what are you doing here?"

"Getting crushed by one of your hugs, that's what I'm doing."

Her normal behavior would dictate that she tease him for that hitch in his voice, but joy made her generous and she eased back, blinking away the miniscule moisture fogging her vision.

"You're really here."

Ash sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Not for long if you keep hugging me like that."

"Piiika pika."

Pikachu patted at Ash's head, a cheeky grin plastered across his face. Ash retorted with his own, scratching the small mouse behind the ears.

"See, Pikachu thinks so, too."

Pikachu rolled his eyes, shaking his head before leaping to nestle himself atop Misty's shoulder.

"Pikachu pi pika."

"I don't think he does, Ash."

Their in-person banter had an energy she couldn't resist, elation splayed across her lips as Ash playfully pouted before her. A small giggle bubbled from within her; it was both surprising, and yet not, how quickly her previous dejection could be uprooted just by his presence.

A memory from their previous parting blipped in her mind. "Wait here, Ash! I didn't forget!" With a zeal in her step she practically floated back to her bedroom. Almost immediately upon entry she turned to the object hanging above her bed, and Pikachu cheered in glee at the sight. "Recognize this, Pikachu?"

"Pika pi!"

Taking it in hand she placed Ash's old cap atop her head, giving herself an approving nod in her bedroom mirror before making her way back to the entryway. Ash's grin grew tenfold at the sight of her, crossing his arms.

"Hey, nice hat you have there."

"Thanks, I had to send in about a million postcards to get it."

She giggled at his eye roll, but felt playful and, taking the bill in hand, spun it around so she wore the hat backwards. "Look at me, I'm a Pokémon Master in training!"

"Oh, come on, you have to put more energy into it than that! Look!" Ash hunched forward, holding the bill of his own hat between his fingers. He remained motionless for a moment, ostensibly for dramatic effect, before spinning it around, standing straight up as he did so.

"I'm Ash Ketchum, from Pallet Town, and I promise to be the greatest Pokémon Master in the whole world!"

"Pi pikachu!"

Misty could hardly blame Pikachu; when Ash wasn't being a pain in the butt, his energy was infectious, and seeing his goofy pose made her feel light on her feet, a flush warming her face. All of what she'd been feeling was suddenly coming to a head, and she felt as if her body was suddenly a slave to those emotions.

Wordlessly she took two steps forward and, with no warning for Ash, kissed him.

His sharp inhale nabbed her attention first, but his hands finding her waist stole it right back. She pressed her mouth harder against his; she hadn't realized until that moment how badly she missed this, missed the way his closeness and his touch and his lips made her want to melt away. Her arms snaked around his neck, using him as support and an anchor to bring him closer.

Their kiss petered out into smaller kisses before backing away, their lungs livid at the abuse they were taking. All she could see, think, feel was him; if the blush searing his cheeks was any indication, he felt the same way.

"I've missed that."

She grinned. "Me, too."

"Piiika."

Pikachu held his paws to his eyes, a bashful smile adorning him. The two shared a laugh, with Misty rubbing the top of Pikachu's head. "Sorry, Pikachu."

"Pika pika."

He leapt off her shoulder onto the floor, bounding towards the pool where the matches were fought. He turned to the duo, waving his hand to them.

"Piii-ka!"

"He probably misses all of your other Pokémon."

"Then I'll have to let them out; they've missed you both, too."

"But not as much as you, right?"

She threw him a smirk, giddy at the way his expression practically mirrored hers. "If you beat me in a battle, I'll tell you."

Ash beamed, taking her hand in his and nearly dragging her to the pool. "Better watch what you say, Mist. Pikachu and I won't go easy on you!"

"You better not, or else my Pokémon will send you back to the Pokémon Center in a flash!"

Their squabble continued as they made their way to the pool. Truth be told, a battle with Ash always lit the fire inside her. Whether she won or lost was irrelevant; standing across from him, watching his passion burn and seeing his brain wrack up ways to win were inspiring. She loved that about him, and always would.

They would battle, and their Pokémon would need to rest, and that was fine by her. It just meant that that night, Misty wouldn't have to press her hand into the mattress, or try to remember what Ash smelled like against her. She didn't know how long she'd have him, but she was determined to make every second count.

#I'm a genwunner and I'm proud #Pokeshipping #fanfiction

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icameheretoreadstuff · 1 year ago

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Do you take requests? Because I have a request. This is my first time but k love your stories. Okay what if reader is 23 and she is the secret Blossom daughter anyways she is also dating FP and she gets super jealous of Alice (who I’m sorry don’t like) anyways what if she gets down and sees maybe FP would do better without her but he changes her mind? With some smut?!! Hehehe ahh I’m so excited

Hii, aww thank yooou 🥳 How exciting, this is my first request! it took some time writing this, im so sorry about that but here it is 🙈 oh and bytheway hahah, I got a little carried away so its kinda long 🙈

The Blossom Secret Pairing: FP Jones x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, smut, explicit sex, alcohol A/N: masterpost & links are pinned on my tumblr.

You let out a sigh as you were walking on your way home from a long day. The weather was hot today, so your long ginger-red hair was sticking to your back. You shaked your hair to get some air under your hair and when that didnt help you tied your hair up into a bun. You walked up the stairs to your little apartment, as you opened your bag to find your keys. You unlocked the door and walked inside to find the remote to the air condition on the wall and turned it on. You let out a breath as you stood underneath it to cool down.

You turned around to put your groceries in the fridge. You got your eye on the white wine you opened yesterday and grabbed it from the fridge. You poured yourself some wine and sat down in your couch. You bowed down and grabbed a box from under the couch. Inside there was secret documents that you had gotten in the mail, which was the reason why you came to Riverdale.

Inside there was your birth certificate and you found a note where it stood: From Alice cooper. Apperently this Alice had sent them to you months ago. So when you found this Alice Cooper from Riverdale, ofcourse you packed a bag and travelled to find Riverdale and this woman, only when you found this woman you ended up getting interviewed instead of getting answers. She swore that she had found them in her mailbox and had made copies and mailed them to you. She swore she didnt know anything more.

That woman really got on your nerves, you left that day and promised yourself you were going to find out what the hell is going on. You bought an apartment and got a job at some diner named pop’s. You just had to find out what actually stood on that birth certificate. But the thing was they had been blacked out and when you asked your adoptive parents they said it was an closed adoption so they knew nothing. you figured out you were on your own.

You sighed and took a big sip of wine as you threw the box away. After a couple of weeks after you had settled in, you found someone who was willing to help you. He was tall, dangerous smile and god damn: handsome as fuck. So was it really a suprise you couldnt resist and eventually flirted with him? For months you had worked together to try to find out who you are related to, But you grew more interested in him than your birth parents.

You wanted to know the truth ofcourse but you already had a family who you missed like crazy and loved deeply.. You only did this cause you hated not knowing. You wanted to know but this man, right now, he was much more intresting. After months with flirting you fell hard. He had flirted back and he was after all trying to help you, but you could tell he should be with someone else. Infact he convinced you today himself.

Today at 4 pm:

"Hi, could you please take out the trash and then youre done for the day apperantly." Pop said as he looked up at the clock and continued to help some costumers. "sure, thanks pop" you said simply and smiled as you carried out the trash. You smiled knowing you actually had began feeling comfterable in your new job. You loved talking to the costumers and serving people who lighten up when you served the famous milkshakes at pops.

You tried to open the door with one foot, cause you were carrying so much garbage, so you turned around and dragged them out. You felt a firm hand on your back which made you starled. "what" you said as you turned around to figure out who it was. "hi" Fp said in a low tone, he slowly inhaled your scent.

"hi" you said with a half smile and tried to walk over to the garbadge cans. As if he had just woken up he walked over to you and grabbed the trash from your hands and smiled "I'll help" he smiled, the actual smile that made your knees turn into gello. You opened the trashbins and he threw in the trash easily. "Thanks" you smiled and walked away from the smelly trashcans. "can we talk?" he asked. "Sure" you said and he followed you around the corner where there was more privacy. "what's up" you asked.

He sighed out loudly and it looked like he was debating on what to say. "tell me" you said as you took your handkerchief from your apron and playfully smacked him on his arm. He let out a short laugh as he sighed long. "I found out something big and I think you should sit down" he said, you looked worried at him. "just tell me" you asked and he sighed "alright" he looked into your eyes as he said. "Youre a blossom" he said "blossom? really?" you asked and knew some stories from the blossom family. You had heard allot of stories at pop's, so you werent all unimformed.

"apperently Clifford and Penelope Blossom tried to hide the fact they got pregnant when they were young and had you adopted." he explained. "wow" you simply stated. "I need some time to thaw on this" you said. But honestly you were more concerned with him. Right now he felt so right in your life that he had become the light in your life. Everytime the bell rang at pops you hoped it was him, you became more and more invested in this research because of him?

"are you ok?" he asked. you shaked our head clean, from stopping yourself of thinking anymore about this. "yeah, anyways I should probobly go, thanks again" you said and hated that, thats what came out of your own mouth. "I mean it, thank you so much" you tried to smile and he took out his hand and touched your arm. The warmth that came from his hand made your heart flutter. you starred into his eyes as you walked closer to him and gave him a hug.

He arms wrapped softly around your waist and you heard yourself exhale. "thanks" you whispered softly, you tried to walk away from his hug but it was so damn hard. You didnt want to leave. you felt his cheek come close into yours, you leaned back to get a look at his lips. He licked his lips dry as you were just inches away from eachother, you looked into his eyes and bit your lower lip. he stared at your lip as he leaned closer to you-

"FP!" someone yelled. A familiar female voice stopped you from finally tasting his lips, he sighed "sorry I got to go" he said. he pulled back away from you and walked away, suddenly he was gone. You touched your cheek as you felt the warmth from where his chin had just been, slowly fade away and turned cold. You closed your eyes and wanted to savior every moment.

You grabbed your bag and were ready to head home. You were dizzy from the heated moment from you and Fp still. you walked outside of pops after you had just said goodbye to everyone. You were on your way to the car. Months of pining after him and Alice just- "FP!" Alice exclaimed "Im in love with you and I want to be with you" she said. You froze and looked at where the voice were coming from. "I can't believe this" you felt tears build up as you saw Fp hold her both hands and said something only she could hear. "I cant believe this" you uttered under your breath.

Now 6pm:

Yep, that happened. You felt anger rise inside you as you inhaled and exhaled. You rised up to go and find something stronger to drink. You opened your cabins from the kitchen and found a bottle. «There you are» you sighed, grabbed a shotglass and poured tequila into it. «fuck them» you said as you raised your hand and threw down the shot.

Today you had found out the truth and that you were some secret blossom daughter. Honestly you didnt care about the blossom family, you already had a loving family. The only thing you couldnt get out of your head was him, you just wanted him.

But you cant have him, because of Alice. Fuck this and fuck him and her, you made up your mind to go out and drink somewhere not alone. You took another shot and changed out of your uniform into something better. You found a black strapless dress and put on some red lipstick.

You stood ready to leave when you opened the door and you saw him standing there in the doorway. "hi" he said as he starred at you on your dress "what do you want?" you asked as you leaned your hand on your waist as you held the door open with your other hand. He couldn't stop looking at your waist and tried to not stare his hardest but failing. "why aren't you with Alice?" you asked with a mean look. "If you came here to gloat why didnt you bring Alice?" you joked and shaked your head, you looked into his eyes waiting for him to respond.

"hm?" he looked up confused "wait, why are you talking about Alice?" you crossed your hands and shaked your head. "I couldn't care less about Alice" he reasured. "yeah right" you let out a snort and tried to shut the door in his face but he grabbed the door and walked halfway inside and looked at you with a smile which made your knees turn into gello once again.

"youre mean" you barely managed to say. He walked inside, closed the door behind him and gave you a puzzling look. "what" you asked annoyed. "Do you know how frustrating this whole situation is?" he sighed as he walked further inside the apartment, He had been here a couple of times but he never let you out of his sight. he slowly walked over to you until he stood close enough for you to inhale his perfume.

the perfume made you let out a whimper, you covered your mouth trying to hide the sound that made him look into your eyes with hunger "what do you want? and why arent you with alice, you should be with her, not me" he shaked his head slowly as you asked all these questions, he looked down on his shoes and let out a sigh "y/n" he began "can you leave, If youre going to let me know youre not interested you didnt have to come here and pity me, I have your money right here, so you can just go back to that fuckin-" you barked.

he looked at you with a tense look in his eyes and interupted you "I dont care about Alice" he explained and shook his head, "what are you even talking about, I want you!" he said annoyed "I didnt come here for her or money" he took out his hand and placed it under your chin. "I came here for you" he whispered, "can you please stop making this so damn difficult" he let out a short laugh. "I saw you in your car today driving home from pops, I know what you saw and I knew you would misunderstand, She was jelaous of you and wanted to be with me, but I told her that I was falling for someone else" He leaned closer to you, just a few inches away from your lips.

You held out your hand on his chest trying to stop him, you felt his heart bump like crazy under your palm. "Fp" you whispered, he grabbed your hand and guided you around his neck as he leaned closer to your ear. "I dont have anything more to talk about that woman, I only want to talk about us." he whispered, "I want to feel you lay naked under me" he said as he kissed your chin "I have wanted to kiss your neck for months now" he said as he kissed your neck softly, you let out a whimper.

"How much more do I have to explain to you that youre the one I want?" he kissed your chin once more and grabbed your head and looked softly into your eyes. "I'm in love with you, not her" he finally said and waited for you to respond. you completly froze and after a second your body reacted "don't break my heart" you said and kissed him deeply, he inhaled your kiss and sucked your lips playfully.

He broke the kiss and grabbed your legs and held you in his arms as he walked into the wall, as he deepend the kiss. he pushed you up into the wall more as he licked your upper lip. You held his shoulders, he grabbed your thighs and lifted slowly up your dress as he kissed your neck with soft kisses.

He grunted as he grabbed your ass and pushed himself into your core. You let out a whimper as his hard shaft made contact with your core, you began thrusting into his shaft and wanted to kiss him more. He grunted and thrusted back as he opend his mouth to let you explore his tounge.

His eyes fell behind his head as he let out a deep grunt. "youre already so wet for me" he smirked and grabbed your waist. "please let me taste you" he asked as his voice broke. "in there" you managed to let out and he turned carried you into your bedroom.

He layed your body down on the bed and took off his jacket and shirt, You felt his gaze burn onto your body, He was so beautiful. You threw off your dress and were about to take off your panties, but he stopped you "let me" he asked and took off his shoes and pants. He bent down to your core, and grabbed your waist and pulled you twoards his mouth as he dragged your panties off your waist.

He licked his lips dry "youre so beautiful I can't-" He tasted you with a flat tounge. "you taste so good, I-" he said with a smirk and tasted you once more and he was not being shy, letting out all sorts of sounds as he tasted every inch of your core. You let a whimper and felt euphoric as he couldn't stop tasting you.

He looked up at you and smirked "if you let out a whimper one more time I can't stop myself from-" he began while he took one of his fingers and touched your g-spot. your head flew back as a result and you let out a moan. He stopped and flew over you in a second to kiss you deeply.

His hard long shaft was throbbing against your core, you both wanted more contact from eachother but couldnt stop kissing. "you drive me insane" he whispered as he thrusted gently into your core and started to find a slow rythum. "take it off" you said and he smirked. "do it" you pleaded and tried to take off his underpants yourself.

He stood up from the bed and dragged off his underpants and your gaze went straight to his big throbbing manhood, you let out a whimper as he rushed over to you again and kissed your neck. "Do you know how hard it is to be around you and not wanting to kiss you?" he whispered into your ear as he let his shaft close to your core.

Your hips began moving wanting some friction. "Ive wanted to to this for so long now, and I want to see your hauntingly beautiful face when my dick makes you orgasm." his voice broke as he grunted and pushed his long shaft into you. "FP" you let out a moan, he started to thrust slowly to make you adjust to his size. "I want you so bad" you whimpered, you felt your entire body turn electric at the contact of his skin, his body and his breath.

He thrusted slowly and began turn up the pace as he kept kissing your neck and then he pulled out and sat in a upright position, as he grabbed your body and you felt like a magnet, searching for contact.

you sat down ontop of him and began to ride him, your lips searched for his lips as you looked into his beautiful eyes. "Im so in love with you" he whimpered, you let out a moan as his words were making you close to climax. "You're so beautiful I cant get enough of you" he said as he began breathing heavier.

"I cant wait to see beautiful orgasm" he panted "youre doing so amazing" you kissed him deeply and grabbed his shoulders and started to pick up the pace, "Im gonna-" you let out a moan and felt your orgasm come closer, you pushed his body down on the bed and held his hands down beside his head. He sat up his legs to thrust into you as you finally felt the orgasm take over your entire body. "Your orgasm is making me so hard" he said as he kept thrusting as you rode out your orgasm.

He pulled out and you grabbed his shaft, he let out a moan at your contact. You licked his length and started adjust his size into your mouth as he thrusted himself into you. "Im-" he panted and you bobbed your head in a rythum as he thrusted himself slowly into your mouth. "Im-" his orgasm shot electricity threw your body as you watched him cum on your stomach.

You walked off the bed and held out your hand, "shower with me?" you asked. He smirked and raised up from the bed, he grabbed your hand and kissed your arm and upwards your shoulder then he kissed you deeply "I would love to"

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