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bontentrio · 2 months ago

Text

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

san x gn reader + mingi x gn reader (separated)

part 2 to ateez stuck in the friendzone! read that part so this makes sense

tw: slow burn + veeery dramatic + angst + fluff

a/n: both have the slowestttt slow burns in history of friends to lovers omg my heart did kinda break a little while writing them lol so keep in mind that both are VERY dramatic. maybe even cliche but honestly i just wrote what i, personally, enjoy reading. i’m just a girl in love with love 🥹

masterlist

SAN

san found himself attempting to hide his smile while you told him about your awful date from a few days ago. you were laying down with your head on his lap as san casually untangled strands of your hair, while you rambled on and on about the misfortunes he secretly thought were fortunes in disguise.

“who talks about their mother on the first date? like the whole time i mean, of course it’s okay to mention one or two things following the context of the conversation” you said, moving your hands dramatically to prove your point “but the whole time? i tried to switch the topic of the conversation towards work and can you believe he told me about what his mother does for a living before telling me what HE does for HIS?”

san couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. you were so cute and he was so happy and relieved that the date had failed.

“he should go to therapy” he said, in between giggles. “right?! sigmund freud would have been thrilled to have him as a patient” you exclaimed, laughing too.

after a few moments of cracking jokes and laughing about the situation, you turned your head to face san. “so what about you?” you asked. he looked down at you, smile on his face still. “what about me?”

“have you gone on dates lately?” you asked. he threw his head back, shaking it slightly “with what time? i’m too busy with schedules” he answered, half lying. it’s true that he’s very busy with his idol duties, but he always managed to make time for you. he knows he could easily use up that time to go on dates, but for obvious reasons that you still were ignorant to, he didn’t. to you, he was just an introvert.

“but are you not interested in anyone?” you pushed, lifting your head and sitting up to face him properly. san chose to avoid your eyes, not trusting himself to keep his own secret. instead, he looked to the city on his right, suddenly finding the building architectures more interesting. he noticed that the air in the terrace got warmer too, and the concrete platform you were sitting on got harder. or was he the one that got warmer and stiffer? “no, i don’t think so” he lied, but you knew him enough to see through it. “liar, you’re blushing”

“well it is an intimate question” he answered, attempting to smile in order to play it off. you shook your head no “you blushed and your left eye twitched a bit. that was definitely a lie and as your best friend i want to know!” you exclaimed, grabbing his hands. if only you knew the effect you had on him.

when he came back from tour, he was determined to confess. but now that the perfect opportunity arose, he couldn’t open his mouth. questions and different negative scenarios plagued his mind, convincing him that maybe it was a bad idea. he much rather work on moving on than lose you as a friend.

“are they that special to you?” you asked, in a much quieter tone of voice, noticing his silence. he nodded, staring at your eyes, hoping you could notice the love they held whenever he looked at you. but despite his desperation, you didn’t. “they are very lucky then, you genuinely are amazing in every aspect sannie”. you continued, going back to your original place with your head on his lap, but still holding his hands. he kept staring at you, if only you knew.

“thank you” san managed to say.

———

“how fast can you come over to help me with something?” you asked san on the phone, as he exited the practice room. it was like the stars aligned, because he had just finished for the day. “i can come over right now, are you okay?” he asked, worried something may be wrong despite you sounding relatively okay. “i can’t pick an outfit and- shit my aunt his calling me, invite yourself in when you arrive, i’m in my room and you already know the lock number of the door” you said, before hanging up.

outfit for what?

———

so that’s how san found himself sitting on your bed on a friday night, numerous pieces of clothing scattered all over without care. he scrolled through some unread messages while he waited for you to try on a different outfit for your new date. yes, new date. as if his heart haven’t just healed from last time.

“i matched with someone on this app and they immediately invited me on a date so now i’m having a fashion crisis” you had explained to him as soon as he entered your room. why was it so hard for you to realize that your dates have been failing for a reason?

you appeared once again, now wearing an outfit that honestly took san’s breath away as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. it was nothing too extravagant, actually, it was rather simple, but it was enough to make san’s head spiral. specially when you twirled around to show the outfit from the back, since your shirt had an open back.

“so? what do we think?” you asked, eyes filled with hope.

san was conflicted: he was 100% sure he has never seen anyone look more beautiful, more dashing, more perfect. but, it wasn’t for him. he didn’t want anyone else to look at you like that, they would never come remotely close to the way he feels about you.

“san-?” you started to ask after a few seconds of silence, but got interrupted by him: “don’t go on that date”

you looked at him confused, as he stared back with the same surprised face. that really had slipped from his lips before he realized what he was saying. you fucked up big time san, he thought to himself.

“why? do i really look that bad?” you asked, turning around to face the mirror in order to examine your body and face. he noticed the way your eyes dimmed, as you carefully traced your eyes over your figure, finding little imperfections that made your face turn into a sad frown. san felt his own heart shatter at the sight, and before he knew, he stood up and quickly hugged you from behind, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“sannie?” you asked, startled by his sudden action and making you momentarily forget about the insecurities that started flooding your mind. you looked at him through the mirror: even if he was leaning down on you, he was still much wider, making you feel very small in his arms. unconsciously, you lifted your hand and patted his hair. san lifted his head, looking at you through the mirror as well, and your eyes interlocked.

“you’re perfect y/n” he whispered. “i’m sorry if i gave you the wrong idea, you look beautiful and your date is very lucky”. he was trying to be supportive, but traces of sadness and desperation were evident in his face. enough for you to notice. you turned around, and the same hand that was patting his head went down to his cheek, holding him in place to look at you.

“what’s wrong san?” you asked, softly. your thumb traced comforting circles on his cheek, and you could feel his arms tighten around you as he closed his eyes.

“go on that date” he whispered in a shaky voice, before adding “you look beautiful”.

you stared at him confused for a few moments, not really knowing what to say. then, he kissed your forehead and, with the little bit of strenght he had left in him, unwrapped his arms, stepping back. he grabbed his jacket and went to the door, but not before shooting you another sad look and saying “like i said, your date is very lucky”.

he left, heart in his hands, slowly breaking with each step.

you cancelled the date.

———

san couldn’t sleep that night, he kept tossing and turning as his mind wandered about what you were doing with your date. were you still having dinner? no, probably not since it’s like 2 am. maybe it went so well that you invited them over for coffee at your place, something that will probably lead to something else. something he didn’t even want to imagine, since it wasn’t him committing those sins.

maybe it was time to move on, after all. he wants you to be happy, truly, so if your happiness doesn’t include him, then he should at least be supportive. and in order to do that from the bottom of his heart, he should move-

*knock knock knock* he heard, coming from the door. he decided to ignore it, thinking that it was probably mingi, so he turned around and closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep.

“maybe he’s asleep, i should come back tomorrow but thank you soenghwa” he heard you say from behind the door. he never got out of bed faster, as he sprinted to the door and opened it widely.

there you stood, now dressed in a familiar oversized shirt and baggy pants. completely different from the outfit he last saw you on, but to him you still looked beautiful. you looked at him with wide eyes, as seonghwa smirked next to you.

“i’ll leave you alone” he said, before he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

you stood there awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. you came here with a question, but now that you had san right in front of you, thoughts were scattered all over your mind and you couldn’t say a word.

“come in” he said, sensing your internal dilemma. you nodded in response, as you entered and made your way to his unmade bed.

“did i wake you up?” you asked. san shut the door and shook his head “actually i couldn’t sleep”

“me neither” you said in a low voice.

“how was your date?” he asked, unsure of what to say. he sat next to you on the bed, looking at you while trying to decipher your expression. you turned your head to san’s bedside table, finding the small plushie you once gifted him randomly. you smiled. “i cancelled it”

“what? why?!” he asked, with surprised wide eyes. you turned back to him. “i suddenly didn’t want to go, that’s it really. so while i was tidying up my room i found this shirt” you said, fiddling with the ends of the shirt that looked a little too big on you “the one you once lent me after we got stuck in the rain that one time. i told you i would wash it and give it back, but i didn’t. why didn’t i give it back to you?”

san stared at you in silence.

“so i realized it still had your perfume, and before i knew it, i had put it on. then i started thinking about you, about us. you’re my best friend, you know? but as i was laying down on my bed, i was thinking: what if you were not? what if my dates always failed for a reason?” you continued, as your fingers reached for his. “what if the reason they always failed was because i always searched you in them? so again, before i realized i was standing in front of your apartment, but with one question in my mind”

san could feel his heart beat increase and his breath shorten.

“what will happen to us and our friendship if i told you how i feel? how i think i always felt even if i didn’t know it?” you asked, looking at him scared.

“you’re dumb” he said, loud enough for only you to hear. that didn’t surprise you, what did was the way he immediately let go of your hand in order to hug you close, bringing you closer to his body. “what will happen? how would i feel? y/n you’re dumb because that’s how i’ve been feeling for a long time now” he said, hands leaving your waist and craddling your face. san stared at you, and now you realized that his eyes looked different: they held love in them. something you always searched on random people in dating apps, yet were never able to find. instead, it has been right in front of you this whole time.

“i love you” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. finally, he thought. he finally said the words he has been keeping locked deeply inside him for years. you smiled, as your nose touched his. “i love you too, i’m sorry i just realized”

maybe it was time to give you the silver necklace he bought you on tour, since now the timing was right.

MINGI

mingi missed you, a lot. he hadn’t heard from you since you stormed out of his house a week and a half ago. he had left you a couple of texts apologizing, and even attempted calling you, but to no avail. you had disappeared, and he didn’t blame you, he was stupid enough to let you go. in fact, that’s the thing he regretted the most about the fight: not chasing after you.

so he did what he knew best: he took his misery and transformed it into work, to be precise, he wrote three songs, all about his feelings, the situation in itself and you.

three different scenarios that made him hear yunho’s voice calling him dramatic in his mind. to be honest, he knew he was being a little dramatic about the situation. he knew that you probably just needed time to cool down, and that if his apology was good enough you would forgive him in a heart beat, because, in the end, he knew you loved him. maybe not in the way he wished for, but you loved him nonetheless.

mingi stared at the ceiling in silence, wondering what were you doing while he layed on his bed feeling miserable. did you miss him too? were you also thinking about him? he was certain of one thing only: he wanted to see you. it didn’t matter to him if you opened the door or not, he needed to at least hear your voice through the door.

he checked the time: 11:47 pm, almost midnight. fuck it, he thought. he stood up and quickly got dressed in a speed record time, tied up his shoes and grabbed his keys and song notebook in the process. by 11:55 pm he was already closing the door of his car.

as mingi started driving, questions also started flooding his mind: will you hate him if he suddenly showed up? what if you had invited someone over? shouldn’t he have discussed this with one of his friends first just in case?

questions, questions, questions.

no answers.

soon enough, he found himself standing in front of your apartment door. he could easily ring the door bell, knock on the door or simply use the spare key you gave him once for emergencies. yet, he was unable to do any, frozen in place as he mentally debated on what to do.

mingi decided to do something odd, something he would have probably laughed at if he saw it in one of the movies you usually forced him to watch with you: he took out his pen and notebook, ripped off one of the pages and wrote on it. then, he slid it under the door and left.

“i’ll tell you everything -m”

———

you have always been a hopeless romantic, mingi knew that perfectly well. you believed in happy endings, and that love and friendship can win over everything. so why hasn’t he heard from you still? did you not get the note? should he leave another one? no, that would be too pushy, it was only two days ago.

questions, questions, questions.

still no answers.

mingi was sulking again, and honestly it started to worry seonghwa and san, who watched as he walked back to his room right after dinner, without saying a word during the whole night. honestly, he was just too lost in his thoughts. their pair exchanged a look, before following him.

“mingi, hold up, everything okay? you’re more… distracted than usual” seonghwa said, carefully choosing his words. mingi hummed in response, nodding as he stopped in his tracks. “yeah, there’s just a lot in my head” he answered, not looking at his friends. “let us hear it then” san said, patting his back and leading them towards the living room.

the trio sat down on the sofa they had bought a few months ago, the one you had scolded them about because it seemed very expensive and too hard to clean. they had all laughed, but soon enough realized you were right when mingi spilled a bit of sauce on it. the stain was still there.

“so? what’s wrong?” seonghwa asked once they all got comfortable. mingi sighed, looking down before he started spilling everything that had happened, from two weeks ago until now. he noticed the eldest nodding along the story, but neither of them said anything until he finished.

“when exactly did you leave this note?” san asked, fidgeting with his bracelet. “two days ago” mingi answered. san’s eyes went wide, as he muttered a small fuck before he sprinted towards the kitchen. seonghwa and mingi exchanged a look, both equally confused at their friend’s actions. after a few moments and very weird sounds that came from the kitchen, san appeared again, with a crumbled up yellow post it in his hand. he handed it to mingi.

“the hell is this? it has food stains san, gross” mingi said with a disgusted face as he barely touched the paper. “open it, i found it this morning” san said, sitting down next to him again. mingi gave his friends a strange look, before carefully opening the crumbled up piece of paper. as he read, his eyes widened in surprise.

“what time is it?!” he exclaimed. “9 pm” seonghwa answered, checking the time in his phone. mingi muttered a small fuck, before putting his shoes on, and grabbing his bag.

“i’ll be back in a while” he said, before shutting the door behind him.

seonghwa looked at san, confused. “what the hell did the paper say?” he asked. san picked it up from the floor and showed it to him:

“8 pm, our special place”.

the hand writing was yours.

———

mingi was almost sure he broke one or two speeding laws on his way to the park where he hoped you were still waiting at. he cursed san for not telling him sooner, even if he knew it wasn’t really his fault to begin with. the park wasn’t far from his apartment though, just a short 10 minute drive. as cliche as it sounds, it was the park were you both met.

at that time, around 6 years ago or so, his mind revolved around perfection, hard work, pressure, debut. so he would succumb to overwhelming feelings pretty often, that forced him to need some time alone. that’s how he found a park nearby, and specifically, one peculiar tree that caught his attention for some reason. he used to sit down under it, notebook on his lap and pen between his fingers, as he scribbled down some random thoughts that plagued his mind during hard moments. he didn’t really plan to turn his words into songs yet, it was just his way to deal with stress. he used to find these little moments very special: it was like he was reconnecting with his inner, truer self, and not the mean facade he wore in front of his soon to be members. yeah, some of them irked him, like that wooyoung guy, but he didn’t mean to be that rude all the time. so, to escape the constant pressure kq fellaz was facing in between the company walls, he found solace in a park, but specifically, he found solace under that tree.

he could remember the day he met you like it was yesterday. he remembers all the stress he was feeling, debut date coming closer and closer. everyone was on edge, from the members to the staff. he had also recently come back from morocco after successfully shooting his first music video! but he couldn’t deny it: as much as he was excited, he was already feeling a little tired. he needed some alone time, just himself with his thoughts. so he found himself walking towards his favorite spot in the park.

only to find you there, sitting down under the tree. his tree to be precise. and you were writing on a pink notebook with a fluffy pen. mingi felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself, but instead of being comforted by it, he felt annoyed. it was HIS tree after all!

“excuse me, this is my spot” he said, coming into your field of vision. you looked up to him, pausing your hand and taking an earphone off. “excuse me?”

“this is my spot” he reiterated, making you chuckle slightly. “the tree you mean? does it have your name or something?” you asked, finding the situation hilarious. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, why did nothing go his way?! “listen, i had a shitty day and i need to sit there for a while, so can you leave?”

“no, i got here first. plus there are tons of other trees here, it’s a park after all” you said, putting your earphone back on and turning your gaze to your notebook. he stayed still in his place in front of you, making you huff in annoyance at his persistence. “look dude, i am not going to move. you can either sit on the opposite side or leave, i don’t care but stop bothering me” you continued.

mingi really really reaaaally needed to be at his safe place, too overwhelmed to funcion rationally, so he rolled his eyes and sat on the opposite side of the tree.

that’s how the story started: at opposite sides of the tree. soon enough it got replaced by sitting nearby, and eventually next to each other. some times you would even bring snacks to share in silence, as you both wrote down your thoughts on your respective notebooks. once he debuted, he broke the silence for the first time, urging you to listen to his song. after that, you started talking more, about music, shows, your respective jobs and life in itself. the safe place you both found under the tree, was also found in each other, quickly realizing you often shared the same thoughts and views about the world.

the story started under a tree, and he hoped it wouldn’t end there too. he needed you to be there, because he wasn’t ready to lose not only his best friend, but also his safe place. even the tree would become stained from the pain. and he would have nothing left, just questions, questions, and more questions about different what ifs.

you weren’t there.

but mingi wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. he started running towards the direction of your apartment, forgetting that he had parked the car on the opposite direction. his legs were aching, and he felt like he was a bit out of breath, despite all the idol training he has been enduring for six years. but he kept running.

until he spot you in the distance.

“y/n!” he yelled. he saw you stop in your tracks and turn around to his direction, confused at the sudden call of your name. once you spotted him running towards you, you sprinted to him.

his body collapsed against yours, as he hugged you tightly, like you would disappear if he let you go. mingi hid his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around his back. you could hear his quick heart beat from how close he held you, and you were sure he could hear yours too.

after a while, mingi lifted his head from your neck, and looked at you. “why are you crying?” he asked, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “i thought you wouldn’t come, why are you crying mingi?” you asked, repeating his own actions, but on his cheeks. he giggled, he didn’t even realize he was crying. “i thought i lost you” he said, truthfully.

the park was dark, the only lights came from street lights. so, for outsiders, you probably looked like a random couple having a dramatic moment. definitely not mingi from idol group ateez and his best friend y/n reconciliating.

“i’m sorry” he whispered, locking his eyes with yours. they still held tears, that threatened to spill depending on your answer. you shook your head “no, i’m sorry mings, i shouldn’t have walked away like that. plus i didn't even give you a chance to explain”.

“i’m sorry for not showing you the songs, for not chasing you, and for being too much of a coward to not face you directly” he apologized. you hugged him again, shushing him. “i shouldn’t have pressured you to show me, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do”

mingi looked at you again, and bit his lip. “can i still show you though?”

“it’s not necessary, mingi, it’s fine real-“ you started saying before he interrupted you, taking your hand and leading you towards the same old place from before. “i want to” he said, determined.

you let him whisk you away.

———

back at the peculiar tree that was iluminated enough by a street lamp a few meters away, he sat you down at your usual spot. he sat down beside you, as he pulled out his notebook from his bag. mingi gave it to you.

“mingi, this really isn’t necessary-“ you started saying once again. “please” he interrupted, with pleading eyes. so you took his notebook and opened it on the first page. you already read that song, it was the first one he ever wrote a long while back. “read the last ones”

you turned the pages, until you found them. mingi looked at you nervously, starting to feel fidgety at the thought of you realizing his deepest secret, the only one he hid from you. he just hoped you wouldn’t hate him. he scanned your face, puffy eyes filling with tears once again as realization hit you. you turned your gaze back to him with wide, surprised eyes.

“mingi- what? wait, hold on” you stammered, as tears fell from your eyes. you quickly set his notebook aside to grab your own bag, taking out your new pink notebook, your diary. you handed it to him, saying: “open it on august 5th”

he stared at you confused, and slightly unsure too, since you’ve always been pretty secretive about what you wrote there. he found the page and read:

“august 5th.

so i realized something, that i’m almost too afraid to write even here. i’m scared that if i admit it, i’ll have to face a sad reality. i think i’m in love with my best friend, isn’t that stupid? that’s how i feel, at least. i haven’t seen him in a while because of his work, and i feel like i’m slowly losing my mind. why do i only feel complete when he’s with me? scratch that, why am i even writing this?

anyways, i’ll probably die with the secret”

“now turn to september 16th” you said, avoiding his eyes.

“september 16th.

i’m in love with my best friend. i love mingi. how insane is that? and how stupid? he is my best friend, for god’s sake. but i can’t help the way i feel, specially when he’s so annoyingly observant. like for example, the other day he noticed my pen was dying, so today he surprised me with a new fluffy pink pen. i hate him for making my heart swell at such gestures. specially because i know I KNOW that’s what best friends do.

anyways i’m not gonna use his pen because i decided i’m going to preserve it forever”

“and now, tun to november 10th” you muttered. mingi realized it was yesterday’s date.

“november 10th.

i still love him. and i fucked up. but i’m still in love with him”

he closed your notebook, turning towards you. he found you with your face on your knees, as you hugged your legs, too embarrassed to face him, despite now knowing his feelings. he loves you too, with the same devotion, with the same desperation and intensity. mingi loves you, his best friend.

“look at me, y/n” he whispered. you slowly lifted your head, hesitantly looking at him. the way you both looked at each other held more intimacy than ever. mingi slowly reached for you, bringing your face closer to his. his hold was shaky, almost unsure, this was a whole new territory. he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“i love you” he admitted.

too many questions, that finally got an answer.

“i love you too” you whispered.

taglist: @yoongles2025 @reallychaoticwoo

(to be added please let me know)

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awkward-walking-potato · 5 months ago

Note

Do you write for charles xavier?? If so cloud we get a reader who just keeps bothering him while he is working cause they want his attention and every one else is busy? I hope you have a good day!

I hope you don't mind I wrote this Pre Wheels Charles

The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the Xavier Institute, casting warm, golden light across the vast room where Charles Xavier sat, surrounded by papers, books, and a holographic display projecting data from Cerebro. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his mind focused on the delicate task of tracking mutant activity across the globe. The mansion was unusually quiet, with the other X-Men off on various missions or training sessions. It was a rare moment of peace, one that Charles was determined to use to catch up on work.

And then, you appeared.

“Charles?” Your voice broke the silence, drawing his attention away from the screen.

“Yes?” He looked up, his expression patient but slightly distracted.

“What are you doing?” You leaned against the doorframe, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Just some work,” he replied, hoping that would suffice as an explanation.

You nodded, stepping further into the room. “Looks important.”

“It is,” Charles confirmed, his eyes drifting back to the hologram. He tried to refocus, but he could feel your presence, still lingering, still watching.

“Everyone else is busy,” you continued, moving closer to his desk. “Scott, Jean, Logan—they’re all off doing something. I’m bored.”

Charles glanced up again, his lips quirking into a small smile. “And so you’ve come to bother me?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a grin, leaning on his desk now. “What’s that?” You pointed to the hologram.

“Mutant activity tracking. I’m trying to—”

“Sounds complicated,” you interrupted, picking up one of the pens on his desk and twirling it between your fingers.

“It is,” he said, still smiling despite himself. He could sense your playfulness, and though he knew he needed to focus, he couldn’t help but be charmed by your persistence.

You sighed dramatically, putting the pen down and plopping into the chair across from him. “Can I help?”

“I’m not sure this is something you’d find very interesting,” he said diplomatically, though the idea of you sifting through the data with him did amuse him.

You groaned and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Why is everyone always so busy? It’s like this whole saving-the-world thing never ends.”

Charles chuckled softly. “It does tend to keep us occupied.”

There was a pause, and for a moment, Charles thought you might have given up. He returned his attention to the hologram, his fingers hovering over the controls.

But then, you spoke again. “Charles?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever just—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Do you ever just want to take a break from all this? From being the wise professor and the leader of the X-Men? Just…be Charles for a while?”

Charles looked at you, truly looked, and saw the sincerity in your eyes. It wasn’t just boredom driving you to seek him out; it was a desire for connection, for a moment of normalcy in a life that was anything but.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, the work momentarily forgotten. “Yes, I do. More often than you might think.”

You smiled, a warm, understanding smile that made something in his chest loosen. “Then maybe you should take a break. Just for a little while. You deserve it.”

Charles regarded you thoughtfully. “And what would you have me do during this break?”

“Well,” you said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin, “I was thinking we could take a walk in the garden. Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, we could raid the kitchen for some of those cookies Hank made yesterday.”

Charles laughed, a genuine, light-hearted sound that echoed in the quiet room. “Cookies and a walk in the garden, you say?”

“Maybe even some tea,” you added with a playful wag of your eyebrows.

He shook his head, still smiling. “You’re very persuasive.”

“It’s one of my many talents,” you said, standing up and holding out your hand.

Charles looked at the work spread out before him, then back at you. The world could wait a little while longer. With a nod, he reached out and took your hand, letting you pull him to his feet.

“Alright,” he agreed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Let’s go see about those cookies.”

As you led him out of the study, chatting animatedly about all the things you wanted to do, Charles couldn’t help but feel grateful for the interruption.

#charles xavier #charles xavier imagine #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier oneshot #professor x imagine #x men imagine #xmen 97

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w4ndal0ver · 3 months ago

Text

The Art of Submission (1)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: As a growing author, you're grappling with a frustrating writer's block while trying to craft your next lesbian erotic novel. With a lack of personal experience holding you back, inspiration seems just out of reach. But when a captivating neighbour steps in, offering unexpected support and a tantalizing invitation to explore the depths of desire, you find yourself on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and fiction, leading to a discovery that you definitely weren't expecting.

content warnings: lead up, talk of submission and sadomasochism, flirty touches and conversation.

note: This is the first chapter of a new story that I'm writing, any ideas or inspiration would be appreciated so if you have any ideas feel free to drop them in my requests, other than that buckle in! (I will try to get the next part out as soon as possible)

The Art of Submission - Chapter One

The soft glow of your laptop illuminated the cluttered desk, your cursor blinking impatiently on an empty document. You stare aimlessly at the screen, your fingers hovering above the keys waiting desperately for inspiration to strike. It had been hours since you sat down, hoping to squeeze out something, but your mind felt trapped and foggy, yet every time you wrote a sentence, you only sank deeper into it. The end result had started to feel completely out of reach.

Your last book had done okay. It wasn’t groundbreaking or a bestseller, but it was just enough to remind you that you could do this. You could write and publish your writing and make some level of a name for yourself in the world of lesbian erotica. Not that it was hard considering the low level media attention that your field rarely gained. The reviews had been mostly kind and the sales had trickled in steadily enough that you were managing to stay afloat, but nowhere near the level of success that you first imagined when you wrote your first novel.

Your apartment is a mess, the evidence of your creative block scattered pointlessly across the room. Empty coffee mugs crowded your desk, some still holding the cold remnants of yesterday's caffeine-fueled desperation. You’d also not left the apartment in days, time becoming a blur of restless nights and sluggish mornings, avoiding stepping outside. You found it was easier to stay here, trapped within the confines of your own thoughts, hoping something would come to you.

You lean back in your chair, groaning in frustration. You thought about getting up and attacking the massive pile of laundry that had sat abandoned in the corner for days, but you quickly pushed that aside, realising that there was no point until you at least got another page written. The cursor was blinking furiously at you and you felt yourself going slightly insane. You wanted to smash your head into the keyboard, but instead you imagined yourself doing it which brought a small smile to your lips.

It was at this moment that a sharp knock sounded at the door, you spin in your chair, frowning as you try to glance over at the entrance to the apartment. You wracked your brain trying to remember if you’d ordered something, but you couldn’t work it out and you knew you definitely wasn’t expecting company. You push yourself out of the chair with a deflated sigh, stretching your legs out as you go towards the door. The knock came again, firmer this time. Whoever it was, they weren’t planning on leaving.

Shuffling to the door, you don’t bother to smooth the wisps of your hair or fix the crumples in your shift, you just swung it open.

“Hey, I hope I’m not intruding, but I thought you could use a break.”

You blink in shock, momentarily stunned. Wanda stood in your doorway, her familiar yet distant neighbour from across the hall. You knew her as the woman who you occasionally exchange small talk with in the corridor, but there she was holding a bottle of wine like she’d been planning this all along. Her reddish-brown hair flowed over her shoulders, perfectly catching the dimming light of the room, the colours of her striped blouse almost too cheerful for the cluttered mess that she would soon walk into.

“I can basically hear your sighs from across the wall. Writer's block?” Wanda smiled, her green eyes warm but with a hint of darkness behind them, as if she knew something that you didn’t. She stepped further inside, her presence filling the small apartment yet you didn’t move to stop her, you didn’t feel the need to.

“Yeah no of course, come on in.” You say, brows furrowed in confusion. You hadn’t told anyone that you were trying to write again, come to think of it, you hadn’t even told her that you were a writer in the first place. Suddenly, your cheeks flushed pink in the realisation that she knew who you were.

Wanda set the bottle down on the counter, next to a half empty cup. The sound of it landing felt louder than it should, cutting through the quiet tension that was arising around the pair of them.

“You’ve been in here too long, I thought wine might be a good excuse to step away from the screen for a bit.” Wanda spoke with a caring tone beneath her soft voice, yet you found it unsettling in how she acted so naturally, offering up solutions to problems that you hadn’t even told her about.

Wanda always seemed to have a way of appearing when you least expected it, offering little moments of relief, like that time she helped carry groceries up the stairs. She was friendly, sure, but there was an edge to her friendliness. A knowing look, like she was always a step ahead of you, just waiting for the right moment to weave her way into your life. You didn’t know why, but you weren’t exactly complaining about it.

“You know, I’ve read some of your stuff.” There it was, you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Your eyes dart to Wanda’s face, as if you were searching for any hint of a joke but instead you’re met with a calm, confident smile. That wasn’t what you were expecting. You’d always presumed that your audience was horny teenage girls, but Wanda was a mind-blowingly gorgeous woman, the exact opposite of who she was expecting. Besides that, your books lived in a cosy corner of the erotic fiction world, usually flying under the radar, definitely not the type of thing a neighbour casually brings up over wine.

“You have?” You ask, trying to sound casual but your voice comes out a little more strained than intended. You walk around the kitchen counter where Wanda had perched herself, your hands almost shaking from the unexpected social encounter. You reach into the cupboard, finding two wine glasses and placing them down between the two of you.

“Mhm.” Wanda leans against the counter, an almost playful spark in her eye, “You’re good. The way you write about submission, it’s real, raw. It’s incredible.”

You feel your cheeks warm up, unsure on how to respond. This was the first piece of praise you’d received from inside your own kitchen. You felt your pulse quicken, the fact that Wanda had read those words, the intimate fantasies that you’d put into your stories was making this situation way more intimate than deemed necessary.

You literally were stuck in a state of speechlessness, but Wanda was acting like she expected this. She lets you stand with your back against the counter opposite her, fiddling with the ends of your hair while she pulls up a stool. “Corkscrew?”

“Oh yeah, of course.” As you turned you wanted to slap yourself, why were no words coming out, you are absolutely embarrassing yourself, yet the redhead was still gleaming at you as if you were adding something to the interaction. You rummage through your drawers to find what you needed before handing it over to her.

“You know, when I first picked up one of your books I wasn’t sure what to expect.” She chuckled, tilting her head thoughtfully as she worked on opening up the bottle. “But then, well, I couldn’t put it down. Dangerous stuff.”

This time you manage a small laugh, still processing the idea of Wanda - the beautiful and put-together woman from across the hall - curled up reading the things you’d written. “I guess it’s not what most people expect from their neighbours.” Once again you’d tried so hard to sound casual that your voice was wavering in response.

“Well maybe we just don’t know our neighbours as well as we think we do.” With that, she pulled the cork from the bottle and filled up the two glasses, leaning in a little closer as a smile grew into a smirk.

You glance down at her as you reach for the glass, “I never really imagined someone like you reading my books you know.” You say sheepishly, taking a sip of the wine hoping to mask the nerves that were creeping up your spine.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, her smirk more prominent now. “Someone like me?”

You shrug, avoiding her gaze as you fiddle with the stem of your glass. “You know, my audience is usually different. Younger maybe.”

She chuckles softly at your response, “Are you saying I’m too old for erotic fiction?” Her tone is teasing, yet there's a glint in her eye that makes your palms sweat. Her comment about submission still lingers in the air, your cheeks continually growing warmer.

“No! No, I just-” You stammer, flustered by how casually she was controlling this conversation, “I didn’t think you’d be into, you know, that kind of thing.” Your voice is desperately pathetic and all you can do is smile shyly, trying to lighten the tension that was twisting in your chest.

Wanda takes a slow slip from her glass, her eyes never once leaving yours. “Don’t assume you know what I’m into,” she comments, voice soft but full of unspoken meaning. There's that look again, the one that says she knows more than she lets on. “But seriously, I thought your writing was refreshing. You don’t hold back and that's what makes it compelling.”

You feel the blush rise again, her praise catching you off guard. “Thanks, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a little more exposed than you’d like.

She waves a hand in the air, brushing off the awkwardness as she crosses her leg over the other. “I could tell you were stuck though,” She adds, swiftly changing the topic with a casual flick of her wrist. “So I figured I’d rescue you from yourself for a bit.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “Rescue me?”

She nods, her eyes twinkling. “I’ve been hearing you pace around for days, It’s not hard to guess you’ve got yourself into a block.”

You can’t help but laugh, the conversation switching to something that was making you more comfortable to talk about. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve been staring at that god stupid screen for hours.”

Wanda shakes her head, mock disapproval on her face. “That’s no way to get inspired, sometimes you just need to step away.” She gestures to the wine and the dim, cosy lighting of the room. “This is your moment to relax.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight on your chest lighten ever so slightly. “I guess I have been driving myself crazy.” This would usually be an overstep in a first proper conversation, but the curious look behind Wanda’s eyes made you feel like she was making you say all of this, like she was dragging the vulnerability out of you.

Wanda smiles at your openness, a knowing, almost secretive smile as she lifts her glass to her lips again. “There's a reason they say inspiration strikes when you least expect it, maybe you just need to stop expecting it.”

The laughs were more relaxed now, “Oh, is that how it works?” You tease playfully, finally getting to a point where your nerves have stilled out. You could feel the tension in your body loosen just a little, but Wanda’s gaze still never faded.

She grins at your response, swirling the wine around in her glass. “Well sometimes it helps to just let go.” Her eyes sparkling as she watches you. “So what’s this book about anyway? What's got your pretty little head in a spin?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to respond. There's no easy way to explain what you’re writing without dipping into something personal and intimate. But the way Wanda is watching you so intently, waiting, you decide to just go for it. You’re thinking maybe talking about it will help you sort out what’s been blocking you.

You clear your throat, and look down at the glass in your hands. It’s, uh well, it's another one in the same genre as the others.”

Wanda cocks her head at you, leaning in again. “Mhm, go on.” She pulls out the stool next to her, tapping on the top of it. You smile in the safeness of her space, walking round the counter and sitting down next to her.

“It’s about sadomasochism actually. I’m trying to explore that dynamic, the balance between pleasure and pain, trust and submission.” You feel your face flush, realising that there's no backing out now. This is supported by Wanda’s lips curling into an all too well knowing smile.

“So you’re digging into the darker side of submission? That’s bold.”

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah it’s more about the psychological aspect of it - how it feels to surrender completely to someone else but it's hard to get it to feel real rather than just something for someone to get off on.”

There's a brief pause, both of you deep in thought, but you can feel Wanda’s gaze like a weight on your skin. Her eyes darken, just for a moment, as she processes your words. “Sounds intense.” She murmurs, her voice dropping a little lower.

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to break the tension that you’d created. “Yeah well it’s not exactly an easy thing to write about. I want to portray it with respect.”

The redhead has now turned in her chair to face you completely head on, her head tilted as she rolls her lips together. “Maybe that’s because you’re overthinking it.” She pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, “Or maybe because you haven’t experienced it enough yourself.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her suggestion and you can’t hold her stare anymore, quickly glancing away with a small cough. “I- Well I’ve written about it plenty.”

She chuckles gently at your answer, her tone life but her words heavy with meaning. “It’s not quite the same thing though is it?” Wanda’s fingers gently brush against yours as she reaches for the wine bottle to refill her glass. The touch is light, fleeting, but she doesn’t pull her hand away immediately. Instead her fingers linger just long enough to make you wonder if it was an accident or something more deliberate.

You attempt to laugh it off, but your voice falters slightly. “I guess not.”

She meets your eyes again, her gaze almost daring, “You know, sometimes the best way to get through the writer's block is to immerse yourself in the subject matter.”

You swallow hard, praying that she didn’t hear the gulp that erupted in the back of your throat. The air between you had grown thicker than before. “Yeah I’ve heard that before.”

She smiles, leaning just a little closer, her arm brushing against yours as she picks up her glass. “So what’s tripping you up? The emotional stuff, or you know the physical details.”

The way she’s looking at you, so calm yet so confident. It’s like she’s pulling the words out of you without you even realising it. “Both. It’s hard to get the balance right, making the dynamic feel believable.”

Wanda nods thoughtfully, biting the tip of her finger as she indulges herself into your problem. “Have you thought about how you’re building the dynamic between them?” She shifts closer and in the process her knee scrapes past yours under the lip of the counter top. You’re hyper aware of every small movement now and it's impossible to be an accident. “Like what does submission look like to you? What does it feel like in the story?”

You blink, caught off guard by the directness of her question. “God, I don’t know, It's like surrender, like when you trust someone enough to give them complete control.” You pick up your glass again, taking a massive chug in order to keep your hands steady. “It’s like you know they won’t hurt you, even when you’re in your most vulnerable state.”

She nods understandingly, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. “Okay so what does that look like physically, how are you going to write that?”

Your pulse is going crazy now, you’re convinced that Wanda can hear your heartbeat quicken from just her words. “It’s about touch,” You say, your voice almost wobbling, “The way they respond to each other. The way a person can take control with just a look or a gesture.”

As you speak, Wanda’s lips turn up into a smirk, her gaze still unwavering. She’s so close to you now that the warmth of her body is radiating off of your skin. Her hand rests slightly above your knee, the touch intimate, sending a shockwave up the back of your spine. “Show me.”

Your breath hitches, heart racing as her fingers begin to trace a small circle against your leg. The motion is almost absentminded, yet it feels nothing but deliberate. She maintains her eye contact, her expression open but charged with a spark of something playful and dangerously enticing.

You freeze, caught in a whirlwind of sensations as the room feels smaller now, the air thick with unspoken tension. You know exactly what she’s suggesting without her having to say it.

You open your mouth to respond, but immediately close it, earning a small chuckle from the redhead. “If you can describe it so well, you shouldn’t be stuck here right.” The dangerousness in her tone makes the words evaporate and you become acutely aware of the heat radiating from her body, the way her thumb brushes softly against your skin, drawing you in deeper.

Wanda pulls back just slightly, but her hand lingers where it is, a gentle weight that feels both reassuring and electric. Her eyes lock back with yours, searching, waiting for your answer. “It’s okay.” She whispers, her voice soft yet commanding, as if she's completely in control in this delicate moment, “I’m just trying to help you get… unstuck.”

You can’t look away from her, caught in her captivating gaze. Her confidence is wrapping itself around you, urging you to step closer to the edge of your own desires. The space between you is charged, the possibilities suddenly hanging thick in the air as you contemplate what she could do next.

“Have you thought about drawing from your own experiences?” Wanda questions, still attempting to find a solution to a problem you couldn’t tell whether she was actively helping or not. “You know, sometimes personal stories can ignite that spark of inspiration.”

You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. “I wish I could.” You admit, your pulse is still racing from her touch that she has now released, yet her body still remains just as close. “I’ve never really had anything that intimate.”

A playful glint flickered within the green of her eyes, her gaze sharpening. “Really? Nothing? Not even a fleeting moment that made your heart race?” She tilts her head slightly, studying your face as if searching for unspoken truths buried inside of you.

You shake your head, feeling the embarrassment paint itself across your face. “Not like that, I mean I’ve had relationships, but nothing that’s ever made me feel like I was completely out of control, everythings always felt so safe.”

“Safe can be good, but isn’t there something thrilling about stepping outside of your comfort zone?” Her face leans closer to you once more, the feeling of her leg permanently resting against yours now.

You nod, the thought resonating with you, but you’re still hesitant. “I just don’t know how to write something so raw and believable if I haven’t experienced it myself.”

Her expression softens, shifting her weight slightly. Her gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before locking back onto your eyes. “Kiss me,” She whispers, the command both shocking and exhilarating.

Your heart races, a jolt of electricity coursing through you at her words. You can’t look away, caught in the depths of her stare. The space between you feels impossibly small, filled with a tension that pulses with possibility. “Just one kiss,” She adds, her voice a sultry invitation. “It might just unlock everything you’ve been trying to write.”

With her eyes gleaming into yours, the world around you fades into the background leaning only the two of you in this moment. You’re drawn to her, every instinct telling you to surrender to the rush of desire coursing through your veins. You lean in, heart racing as you connect your lips together. The kiss is soft at first, a small tentative exploration, but it quickly deepens, igniting something almost primal within you. Wanda’s hand slides from your knee to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if she wants to consume every part of you. You pull back, the softness of her lips still lingering against yours. You’re panting slightly, taking in the depths of what you just happened.

Wanda’s eyes gleam with satisfaction, her finger touching her lip and you can’t help but smile widely at her. “See.” She murmurs, her tone low and teasing. “Just a taste of what it feels like to let go.”

543 notes · View notes

mooooonnnzz · 5 months ago

Text

Forward Beckons Rebound

Dad!Stanford x teen!reader

�� 9,8k words OH MY GOD is anyone actually going to read this?

⚜ this was such a pain to complete but writing it was so fun? mixed feelings

⚜ book of bill major spoils

⚜ quick summary: ford is soooo obsessed with finding the secrets of gravity falls and learns to regret making a deal with bill because he almost loses you and he lost fiddleford?? erm...

⚜ bit of gore and blood is described here! u r warned! it's not bad tho i promise

⚜ angst!! + gender neutral reader also instead of stan and ford not seeing each other for 10 yrs, i changed it to 17 cuz it didnt make sense before 😭

⚜ DONT KILL ME PLS but i unintentionally wrote fiddleauthor BUT IT'S NOT LIKE, in your face, nothing is ever stated so take it as you will?

⚜ to anyone who fully reads it, i hoped you enjoyed!! this might flop ngl

Ford stared at his billboard that was filled to the brim with photos of all of Gravity Falls anomalies. A thin string of red was strung across the board, ultimately leading to the middle where a big question mark was laid. For days he’s been theorizing theories on where all the abnormalities came from. Was there a rip in their universe where it expelled all their strange creatures into your world? Or was this a natural occurrence that happens only in Gravity Falls. Ford couldn’t figure it out. Tapping his chin with his pen, his mind raced with thoughts. “Where did it all come from?” He uttered under his breath, eyes squinting in thought. “Where did what come from?” You slip in his lab, placing a plate of food on his table.

“Oh!” Ford yelped out in surprise. “You scared me there, Kiddo.” He says, chuckling.

“Sorry,” You sheepishly smile. “I brought you dinner.” Ford’s eyes graze the plate for a second, making a mental note in his head to eat the food you prepared later. Eating was a waste of time and he can’t waste any time when he’s on the brink of solving the mysteries hidden within this town “I’ll eat it later.” He said with a dismissive tone, his attention going back to the board.

“This again?” You roll your eyes. “Dad, can you back away from this just for a second and eat dinner with me?” You walk into his view, hands locked together as you pleaded with him. “It’ll be quick! You’ll be back to your work in no time!” You add. Your eyes search his face for any sign of him changing his mind but none came. All he did was side step you, his attention so sucked up in his own head he didn’t even notice what you were saying. He only noticed that you were standing in his way. “Dad,” You let out an exasperated sigh, hands falling down to your sides.

“You’re not even listening to me.” You said, your eyes landing on a table. An idea sprouted in your head. You kicked the leg of the nearby table, eyes darting over to Ford, looking for a reaction, anything that’ll give him a reason to look at you but be doesn’t budge. Your heart shatters a bit, he’s been so caught up in his work that you and him haven’t properly spoken in awhile. Him being wrapped up in his work wasn’t abnormal, but to this degree, it was very rare for him to cast everything aside and hyper-focus on his findings. You mindlessly kicked the floor, eyes glued to the ground.

“I’m gonna…” You pause for a moment, voice getting caught in your throat. You couldn’t fully focus on what you were trying to say. You were too absorbed in retaining the tears in your eyes, too ashamed to let them fall. You felt so pathetic for being so deeply wounded that your very own dad pushed you and the food you spent a lot of time making away. There are other problems in the world and you’re over here, on the brink of tears because your dad was being too dedicated to his lifelong work? It all felt so stupid in the grand scheme of things, but it didn’t alleviate the sadness that was bubbling inside of you.

“I’m gonna go,” You meekly said, rapidly wiping the tears that escaped with your arm.

“Not now, sweetie. I’m this close to breaking this case. I can feel it!”

Silence overcasted him instead of your usual banter. Odd, he thought. Whipping his head over to where you stood, he visibly deflated. You were no longer there.

Ford smacked his head in annoyance that was directed at himself. He was doing it again. Discarding the pen in his hand, he went to look for you. “Sweetie?” Ford calls for you, heading towards your room. Not wanting to intrude, he cautiously knocked on your door. “Can I come in, kiddo?” He had his forearm resting against the casting of the door, hand over his eyes.

After hearing some shuffling and quiet sniffs, you open the door. “Yes?” Your eyes are glassy when you look at him and his heart cracks in two. He’s the cause of this. “I came here to apologize.” He said, voice audibly full of regret. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. It was out of line and not a way I should treat you when all you wanted was to spend time with me.” You wracked your brain for a moment, debating whether you should accept his apology or mull over this heartbreak just a little longer. You fidgeted with the door, moving it side to side as you continued to think, prolonging it just to purposefully bug with Ford.

Falling right into your trick, Ford bit his lip, anxiously chewing on the skin. “Are you going to say anything or you’re going to leave me hanging over here?” His hand dragged down the trim of the door, finger tapping on the wall, nervously waiting for your answer. You couldn’t stay mad at him. A small smile pulls to your face and you wrap him in a bone crushing hug. “You better not ignore me like that again!” Your voice muffled through his long sleeved sweater. His arms wrap around you tightly, kissing the top of your head. “I won't, I promise.”

He wasn’t lying when he promised you he wouldn’t get so enraptured by his work like that ever again. He saw how he secluded himself from you and swore up and down he was going to spend less time researching, even if it meant that he had to shove his hungry curiosity away.

But he would be lying if he said he never laid in bed thinking about what he could be doing instead, what mysteries he could be unsolving and what discoveries he could make that would bring him closer to the question that had been gnawing on him ever since he arrived to this peculiar place.

Many nights were spent restlessly imagining what could be the final piece to his concluding mystery. And one day, he had enough of sitting around. Curiosity killed the cat, a phrase you’d tell him whenever his relentless interest in the unknown occasionally backfired on him, circled throughout his brain but he paid no mind. The yearn to find answers was too great. Slipping on his trench coat, he grabbed his bag. Stringing it over his shoulder, he told you that he was heading out. Completely unaware of his plans, you bid him goodbye from your room.

Ford came back a little while with nothing new other than discovering an old inscription carvings in a cave. He had hoped that reading them outloud would at least summon something that would give him answers! But his actions were fruitless. Defeated and annoyed, he came back. Entering the house, he called out for you.

“In the kitchen!”

He removed his coat and hung it on his coat hanger, along with his bag. He walked over to the kitchen, the smell of spices and cooked meat lingered in the air. “Smells good, kiddo.” He comments, grabbing a Pitt Cola from the fridge. You turn over to him, exaggerating an angry look on your face. “I would have normally taken your compliment but I’m more curious on where you went for practically the whole day!” Ford playfully rolled his eyes at your joking tone. “I was out, sweetie. I lost track of time.” He says, popping the soda can open. Your eyes lock on the Pitt Cola can in his hand. “You don’t drink soda,” You turn off the stove, putting the dirty cooking utensils in the sink “Drinking some once and awhile doesn’t hurt.” He shrugs, ruffling your hair. “dad!” you smacked his hand away from your hair. “Go sit down!” You grumbled, to which he complied.

While you were setting up dinner, a terrible headache overcame Ford. Clutching his head with his free hand, he threw away the Pitt Cola, thinking the soda was the cause of his headache. When you called him for dinner, his brain squirmed in pain. He walked over to the table, sitting himself down as he gripped his head. Too lost in the mind numbing pain, he fails to hear your calls.

“Dad?”

No response.

“Dad?” You called out again, kicking him from under the table. He jolted up in surprise.

“W-What?” He groaned out, his hand still on his forehead. “Are you okay?” You reach out to him, hand on his arm as your thumb moves side to side. Ford weakly smiles, appreciating the gesture. “I’m fine, sweetie. Don’t worry about me.” He looked at you, offering a timid thumbs up. “I’m just getting old.” He said, the pads of his fingers pressing against his temples.

“Do you want me to get you tylenol or—?” Ford waves you off. “It’s okay, kiddo. I’ll tough it out.”

For the past few minutes, you’d catch him staring off into the distance, eyes wide and mouth half open. Everytime you would have to snap him out of his trance, worried if he stayed like that any longer something bad would have happened. Abruptly getting up from the chair, he mumbles, “Heading to bed.” Leaving you alone in the dining room. Unsure on how to react, you watched him leave. No goodnight? No kiss on the forehead? You frowned and got up from your chair, grabbing your plate and his. While washing the dishes you thought of all the possible reasons on why he’s acting so weirdly. But nothing came to mind. Drying your hands on your pants, you walked over to his room.

Opening the door, you peeked your head in. You found him fast asleep on his bed. Carefully stepping inside his room, you pull his blanket over his shoulder and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Sleep well, Dad.” You whisper.

The next morning was weird to say the least. You woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting into your room. Curious and hungry, you quickly brushed your teeth and skipped down the hall. “Dad?” You walk into the kitchen to see him cooking up breakfast, a large smile to his face. “You look happy?” You say rather confused, watching as he flipped the pancake up in the air.

“Today is a good day, kiddo!” He said with so much energy you were convinced that your dad was kidnapped and replaced by a poorly made replica during the night. Never once in your life have you seen him so chipper to be up so early. “Is that so?” Ford finishes up the pancakes and sets them on plates. He hands you a plate and puts his down on the table.

He grabbed butter and syrup from the cabidents, popping the syrup bottle open and drenching his pancake with the sweet syrup. “Want?” He asks you. “No thank you.”

He sits down on his chair and picks up his fork. You watched him closely as he cut a piece of the pancake with the side of his fork, the smile never washing away from his face. “Did you have a good dream or…?” He laughed, stabbing the piece of the cut pancake with his fork. “Guess you could say that.” He looked at you, a flash of yellow ignited in one of his eyes. You blink and his eye is back to normal. You shake your head, brushing it off as your mind tricking you. “Okay?” You looked down to your plate, the fluffy pancake suddenly looking unappetizing. The whiplash of his sudden change in attitude really struck you hard. You pushed the plate away from you, taking in a breath through clenched teeth. “I’m gonna eat later, okay?” You got up and headed to your room before Ford could respond.

“That was weird, wasn’t it, Sixer?!” A voice boomed in his head. Ford jumped, dropping his fork. “Can you give me a heads up when you do that?” He grumbled under his breath, recollecting himself. “Oops! Sorry,” Bill laughed loudly in his head. “Heads up!” He warns.

“There’s no point if you say it after.” Ford mumbles, grabbing his fork to continue eating his breakfast. “You humans and their foods,” Ford could imagine Bill rolling his eye. “Hurry up or else I’m going to rip my eye out of boredom!”

Months ticked by and Ford was still strung up on building a portal. When you’d ask him about it, he would vaguely respond by saying; “This will break the boundaries between our worlds!” And continued to mumble incoherently to himself, pacing around the room as he stewed in his thoughts. He also began to collect weird art of this godly being. His lab was shrouded with tapestries, paintings and statues of a yellow triangle. Questioning about the art led you nowhere. Ford would act like it wasn’t such a big deal and make it seem like you’re the crazy one for finding an issue with his sudden obsession with this triangle. You just pinned it as him obsessively worshiping whatever this god is. As long as it doesn’t get too out of hand.

Even if he was knee deep in his work, he still managed to find some time to spend time with you. Outings were pretty common and you made it known that you appreciate him stepping out of his little man dungeon just to spend some time with you.

Everything was going good for Ford and you. He was slowly reaching his answer he’s been desperately looking for this whole time and you were happy to see him in such high spirits all the time. Not that he never was! He just seems more confident in himself, like he knows his self-worth. You wondered what exactly happened to him to make him so assured of himself.

Although, there would be times where his usual outgoing spirit was washed out for weeks at a time, even months. You were always there to cheer him up, to ground him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay during those times. You never thought much of it, just chalking it up as him going through mental exhaustion. It made the most sense to you. After all, he practically spends most of his day going out to that UFO crash landing site to collect scraps for the portal. There’s days where he’s all beaten and bruised and you’re left to take care of his wounds. You pestered him like a mother would to their child.

Ford sat down on the couch with a loud sigh, unbeknownst to him, you were in the kitchen browsing the cabinets for any snacks when Ford started mumbling to himself. “My muse,” He says. “Gone without a word once again.” He groans. You could hear him take off his glasses and place them somewhere. “Muse?” You whispered under your breath. You waited for him to say anything else that you can latch on to, but unfortunately for you, the TV sparked to life. Latest news reports filled the room and you were left stumped with new information.Was this supposed muse the reason why he gets all sad and anxious? Is this Muse a partner he hasn’t introduced you to yet? Your head is thick of conspiracies and feasible reasons but it was cut short when Ford interrupted your thoughts by walking in.

“Sweetie?” He’s surprised to see you in the kitchen, hunched over in thought. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Uh,” You look at the open cabinet, flipping your eyes between the cabinet and your dad. “Not long! I was…looking for snacks!” You grabbed a bag of chips. “Oookaayy?” He walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Like a flash of lightning, your face is sprayed with Ford’s mouth water. “I’ll take that as a no,” You said, voice raspy. You waddle out of the kitchen, dripping water onto the floor. “I’m sorry, kiddo!”

At some point, he needed a few extra hands to help assemble the machine. Ford chose you and an old friend of his, Fiddleford, to be his helpers. Meeting Fiddleford was a delight. He’s a kind hearted soul who had the brains of a genius. When there were slow days in building the portal, he’d play a song on the banjo to lighten up the mood. You all grew close as time went on and you felt like you had your own little family. You cherished every laugh, smile and conversation that passed between you and the others.

“What songs can you play?” You ask Fiddleford who was strumming the strings of his banjo without any thought. Catching his attention, he takes in your question. He considered his answer for a minute or so. “I don’t think it’s a song you’d know.” He says, beginning to play the opening tune on his instrument. “I know Ford will know this one though!” He smirks, head craning over to Ford who was drawing the outline for the portal. As Fiddleford smoothed into the middle of the song, Ford was turned over on his chair, head swaying to the beat. Once the song came to a close, the lab erupted in rounds of applause. “Thank you, thank you all!”

“I remember that song all too well.” Ford grins. You furrowed your brows. “I’m curious. Why do you two know the song?” Your finger switching between Ford and Fiddleford. “There’s nothin’ really special behind it,” Fiddleford lightly shrugs. “I just played this song whenever Ford had trouble concentrating on his work.”

“And it worked?” Ford nodded his head. “Worked seamlessly.”

You weren’t surprised when Fiddleford would start playing the song whenever Ford was stressed out.

June 15th rolled by, Ford’s birthday! You and Fiddleford secretly planned a surprise party for him, something small between the three of you to remind him how much you and Fiddleford love him. You knew he never was a fan of his birthday. Celebrating one without his twin grew harder each year, but you seemed to lessen the ache in his heart and with Fiddleford a part of the little family now, his birthday surely won't be as bittersweet!

Walking over to his lab, you felt your shoe press against something squishy. Looking down to the floor, you saw a pile of dead rats that spelled out his name. The one you stepped on was flattened, mouth hung open as its bloodied guts pool out of it. You let out a scream, stumbling backwards in disgust and horror.

The door to Ford’s lab flew open, a concerned Ford stood behind it. “Kiddo, are you alriighht…?” His words trailed off into the air, his attention now shifted to the pile of dead rats on the ground. “What the…?” His eyes flicker between you and the rats. He looks equally horrified and disgusted. “I’m gonna get something to clean—“ A gag interrupts you. “To clean that up!” You said in a hurried flash, hands cupping your mouth as you scurried away from the scene.

When you came back with a mask covering your nose and mouth, disinfectant spray, a broom and a trash bag; You saw Ford sweetly smiling at the pack of dead rats. “Uh, dad?” Why was he looking at the rats like that? His head flew up, eyes locking with yours. “Oh, kiddo! Th-Thanks! I’ll clean this up, don’t you worry.” He says, grabbing the cleaning product and broom.

“Uh, okay? Me and Fiddleford are upstairs. We made you something.” You tell him, fidgeting with your fingers. A quick “mhm,” leaves him and you’re left to walk back to the kitchen, a little weirded out by his smile. “Did you clean it up?” Fiddleford asked, adding the finishing touches to the cake. “dad’s cleaning it up. He was acting weird though,” You look at the cake. Gorgeously decorated with white frosting all by Fiddleford’s amazing handiwork. “Weird in what way?” He curiously asked. “Like, there was a pile of dead rats that formed his name and he was disgusted at first, but when I came back with cleaning supplies he looked…” You stop, searching for the word in your head. “Touched?” Your voice high pitched with uncertainty “He looked at the rats as if they were a gift almost.”

“Now ain’t that something.” He looks at you with a shake of his head. “Listen, I love your dad but he’s been actin’ weird.” He pushes his glasses up, setting the piping bag aside. “I sometimes catch him talking to himself. I knew to a certain degree he talked to himself, but I don’t remember it being that bad.”

“I notice that too, do you think it’s that–”

“What is all of this?” Ford asked, amusement trailing his voice. The conversation between you and Fiddleford evaporated in thin air and was replaced with you and him both yelling out, “Happy Birthday!”

His birthday went smoothly and perfect in your eyes, if you ignore the hiccup from earlier. Your dad was laughing heartily at what Fiddleford told him, drinks in both of their hands. Plates of eaten cake were left on the table, confetti was strewn about and you were more than satisfied with you and Fiddleford’s work. You watched as the pair happily conversed with each other, sharing old memories of college together. As the mini party came to a close, Ford turned to you as he hugged Fiddleford goodbye. “Thank you for this, truly. I needed this.” Hugging him, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Anytime, dad.” You smiled.

Soon enough, Christmas was right around the corner. The small little town of Gravity Falls was celebrating the festive cheer by blasting music from every corner and littering their house with decorations. Something you also partook in. Standing on top of the very tall ladder, you decorated the roof with Christmas tree shaped lights.

“Kiddo!”

Looking down, you saw Ford waving at you. “Hi, Dad!” You wave back, slowly ascending down the ladder. Once you reached the bottom, Ford had shoved a snowglobe and a 6-fingered mitten your way. “Look at what Fiddleford made me.” Ford beamed, a small hue of pink flushing his cheeks. You picked up the snowglobe and shook it. You watched in awe as the glittery snow cascaded down to the bottom. “He’s so good at making things.” You say, handing back the adorable snow globe. “And a six fingered mitten?” You slipped the glove on. It covered your whole hand and almost up to your forearm due to how big it was.

“Give me that.” Ford chuckled, removing the mitten off your hand with a swipe. “That’s so sweet.” You say, seeing Ford bleed out utter joy. “And look what he got you!” Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a picture frame. Within the frame was a photo of you, Ford and Fiddleford at Gravity Falls local park. All three of you were stupidly posing in the photo, faces pulled in different ways to make the weirdest face ever. The frame was decorated with a mini wreath and tinsel. On the back, he wrote “To my family,” with a tiny heart scribbled as a period. “He thinks of us as his family!” You held the picture frame close to your chest. “dad! I’m going to cry. This is so sweet.”

“He’s one of a kind.” He says, staring at his gifts longingly. “Where is he? I need to go thank him.” Your eyes search around the premise. “I’m afraid you’re too late, kiddo.”

“What?” You quickly turned around. “Is he dead?!” You practically yelled out. “What? No, no.” He shook his head. “He’s out of town. Spending time with his wife.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Why did you say it like that!” You shoved his shoulder with your hand. He let out a snort. “Sorry, sorry!” He raised his hands up defensively. “Whatever,” You said jokingly. “Are you done decorating the house?” He wonders, peering his head up to see the lights flashing on the roof. “Not quite. I still need to decorate the front porch and such. Wanna help?” Ford didn’t hesitate to agree. He grabbed your gift and placed it inside where it was safe and started helping you decorate.

Wordlessly, you disappeared into the house for a moment. Ford was puzzled but it all made sense when he heard loud Christmas music grow near. The door burst open and there you were, radio in hand with a multitude of DVD’s in the other. “I had to play some music.”

“Just don’t play the songs Fiddleford plays!”

“Those are the exact songs I’m playing.” A groan was heard from Ford and you had to stifle a laugh. That day was spent entirely accessorizing the whole house. The next few days progressed nicely. The christmas spirit was thick in the atmosphere and nothing could shatter it. And as if it was a Christmas miracle, Ford had told you that Fiddleford came back earlier than intended due to relationship problems back home. He also slid in that he had just met The Krampus before crashing down on the couch. The next hour was you trying to shake your dad up from his slumber to get the full story. How could he drop the mention that he met Krampus and knock out like that?

Later that day, Ford was magically possessed by the spirit of Christmas and chose to decorate the portal with lights and a ‘Happy Holidays’ banner. “What’s all this?” You point towards the portal that was covered in flashing lights. “I just wanted to make the place look festive.” There was another reason why he did this and you read him all too well.

“I bet it’s for Fiddleford.” You tease. He scoffed, waving you off. “I may or may not have called him over.” You squeal, hugging Ford with all your might. “Is this how having a full family feels like?”

“What! Did you not like when Christmas was just us two?” He took your comment very personally, even though a smidgen of him thought the same thing. “No. I loved it, but it’s nice to share the festivities with someone else.”

After a bit of waiting around, a knock resounded through the house. Ford perks up from his chair. “That’s him!” He exclaims. Quickly turning to you, he throws the remote to the lights to you. “When we walk in, turn on the light and throw the christmas confetti.” He instructs you.

“You can count on me!” You said, puffing out your chest. Hiding behind the wall, you heard Ford’s footsteps lull to whisper. Quiet chatter was heard and soon, the footsteps drew near. Your finger hovered the On button. You overheard a tiny little yelp and the sound of something unraveling. Looking towards the portal, you saw a little gnome hanging upside down by his foot.

“Oh, c’mon!” You smack your head. You didn’t have time to unwrap the lights off his ankle. Mouthing a “hold on!” to the gnome, you watched as Ford and Fiddleford’s shadow crept into view. You smashed your fingers on the On button, the lights flickering to life.

A gasp left Fiddleford. “First you decorate the house and now the portal? Gee, Ford! And to think I thought you were a mini grinch.” He jested, delivering a slight punch to Ford’s arm. “I’m glad you like it, Fiddleford.” He said softly. He then coughed to his hand, his eyes moving to the general direction where you were at. “Imagine if we had CONFETTI thrown at us. That would be AWESOME.”

Your eyes widen. You forgot the confetti! Jumping right in front of them, you threw the ball of confetti in their face. Your vision was full of confetti fluttering down. When it cleared out, you saw Ford’s unimpressed face and Fiddleford’s large smile. He cracked into full blown laughter, hunched over as Ford coughed out confetti from his mouth. “Really?”

“Oops?” You awkwardly laugh.

“Is that a gnome?” Ford points over to the gnome who waved at him enthusiastically. “Ignore him…” You said quietly.

Half of the cold night was spent warmly tucked in the lab, all huddled up behind blankets and hot cocoa in hands. Sooner or later, they swapped out their hot cocoa with nog. They both told you stories from their past together, stemming from embarrassing stories to really heartfelt ones. Each story either had you hooked on every word that left their mouth or a messy ball of tears.

“You know,” Ford begins, leaning back, looking at Fiddleford and you adoringly. “Maybe we should stop building the portal.”

Shock strikes you and Fiddleford. “What happened to making scientific history?” He asks.

“Don’t get me wrong, I still want to make history but…” His eyes trail to the portal. “I just want to spend time with my favorite people in the world outside of this lab.” His fingers tapped the floor mindlessly. “I have people around me who love me. Why waste that, you know?”

“Am I goin’ crazy?” Fiddleford whispers to you. “I think it’s the nog talking.” You whisper back.

“I can hear you guys talking!”

Facing Ford, Fiddleford had a light blush on his cheeks. “You tell me I’m the sappy one but I think I’m rubbin’ off on ya,” He nudges him. “Don’t make me take back what I said.” He threatens with no actual meaning behind it.

“Why don’t we go outside to build snowmen? That way I can see you wear that six-fingered glove I tirelessly worked on.” Fiddleford suggested. Liking the idea, Ford got up to his feet. He lent out a hand to Fiddleford who graciously took his hand. “Last one to go outside is a rotten eggnog!”

You and the boys rush to their respective rooms, hastily changing out of their thin long sleeves to their thick jackets and pants. Throwing the door to your room open, you stumbled out of the house and onto the snow where you tripped. Laughter sounded around you. Lifting your head up from the fluffy snow, you saw Ford and Fiddleford already out, all bundled up to protect themselves from the cold. “No way!” You gasped, scrambling to your feet. “Yes way!” Ford said.

The other half of the night was spent building snowmen, making snow angels and snowball fights. You tapped out after a while, hugging the both of them closely. “Best day ever!” You said, throwing some snow in the air. “I’m glad you had fun, kiddo.” His hand patted your back, giving you a kiss on your temple. Fiddleford ruffled your hair endearingly.

“Night, guys. Don’t go too crazy on the nog!” They did exactly what you told them not to do.

A month passed and you believed everything was going alright, you thought everyone was getting along but something happened to Ford a few weeks ago. He’s been more paranoid now, snapping at you or Fiddleford and erratically going off on tangents of how he needs to finish the portal. The talk of discarding the portal many nights ago was lost to the wind. Now it rested as some silly little pipe dream.

Fiddleford was noticeably putting less and less effort in the project. You’d often find him daydreaming on his desk, mind far away from the lab. Your work was beginning to become sloppy, head full of thoughts and worries. You stressed over the thought of how everything was just fine a few weeks ago. Now it was slowly falling apart.

You were taking a break outside of the lab when Fiddleford stormed out. His face pinched with a mix of anger and sadness. “Fiddleford?” You rushed to your feet, running over to him. “Fiddleford, what happened?” You stood in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. His lip trembled, looking off to the side. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Go ask your dad since he’s so keen on yellin’ at me.”

Your heart drops to your stomach. Your dad did what? “D-Do you wanna stay here? I-I can talk to him and you guys can make up or something!” Your words stumbled over each other. You can see your whole world crumbling down right in front of you and it was all because of your dad. “It’s alright, pumpkin. I’ma head home now.” A somber yet reassuring smile pulled to his lips.

“I’m going to talk to him, I promise.” You tell him with a firm nod to your head. “Thank you.” His voice was weak, something you’ve never heard from him before. You brought him into a hug, squeezing him before letting him go. He wished you a good afternoon and left, leaving you alone to deal with your dad.

You sucked in a deep breath and trudged towards the lab. Walking in, you saw Ford pacing around anxiously, a scramble of words tumbling out of his mouth at rapid speed. “Dad?” His head snaps to you, a light yellow glow in his eye. The same one you saw almost one year ago. He blinked and suddenly it was gone. “What do you want, kiddo?” His tone was harsh and clipped.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” You cower a bit. His anxious energy and rude tone shook you to your core. He’s never talked to you with such anger before. “Are you here because of what happened between Fiddleford and me?” He inquired, taking a step towards you. Seeing his face better, you could see that it was pulled into an irritated scowl. “What happened, dad?”

“He was going through my stuff! Without my permission!” He said, his hands cupped towards him, directing them at himself. “And to think I trusted him!”

“He probably got the cabinets mixed up or something.” You shrug, not getting the whole show he’s throwing. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself. “You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?” Your lips quivered. You felt so little compared to him. He towered over you with such burning anger you couldn’t process that he was your dad. “You don’t understand what’s going inside my head!” He jabs his finger to his temple repeatedly. “You can’t trust anyone, especially him!”

“This is Fiddleford we’re talking about, Dad! He wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” You said. You couldn’t grasp the words that were coming out of his mouth. Since when did he start doubting Fiddleford’s loyalty? What planted this ridiculous idea into his head? Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“So explain to me why he was rummaging through my belongings!”

“I’m not Fiddleford, I can’t answer that question!”

Ford scoffed, he opened his mouth to say something when it faltered close. He was quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts when he took a step back. His expression screamed betrayal. “Unless you’re siding with him to work against me.” He murmured, eyes narrowed at you.

Your stomach twisted into knots. “Seriously?” Your voice wavered. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to suppress your cries. When you opened your eyes, you were locked on a tapestry of that yellow triangle. That’s when it all clicked. Swallowing your sorrows, you pointed to the tapestry.

“That triangle,” You start. “Ever since you started hanging up those stupid paintings or whatever, you’ve been acting strange in all kinds of ways.” You walk over to it, fingertips brushing the material. Ford eyes you warily. “Is this your Muse I hear you talk to yourself about?” Your fingers wrap around the tapestry.

“Don’t.” His finger pointed at you. You felt like you were a kid again, being disciplined by him for acting irresponsible, for breaking something you shouldn’t have. It made the reality of the situation a lot more serious. This wasn’t something that Ford could shrug off due to your poor impulse control. This is something you chose to do. “Please don’t.” He begged, his eyes glossing over with tears.

You yanked it, ripping it in half. Ford reached out to grab the ripped tapestry but you were too quick. You moved to the side and observed the art designed on it. A flying yellow triangle was depicted as the saving grace of our world. In the background there were people on their knees, while some stood behind them. What stood out to you the most was their eyes yellow, their pupils replaced with a black straight line. You’ve seen those yellow eyes before. You turn your head over to Ford, your heart crushing against your chest. You could barely recognize the man in front of you. He had deep dark eye bags under his eyes, the whites of his eyes had dark crimson veins that irritated his eyes. His hair was disheveled and his chin had little stubbles of hair growing out.

“What is this?” The back of your hand smacks against the tapestry. “Who is this? Why am I just making sense of all of this now?” You shoot questions at him like rapid bullets. “Why haven’t you told me anything about this?”

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back. “I don’t know if I should tell you.” He says, voice low. “I don’t want you to jeopardize our main goal.”

“What main goal, Dad?” You shot back. “The one you said you didn’t want to do anymore because you didn’t want to lose track of what’s in front of you?” Your hands clenched the tapestry. “I changed my mind.” Ford rubs his forehead, looking away from your eyes, clearly ashamed of himself. “Clearly!” You stared at him for a moment. “Why?” He looks over to you, his face riddled with exhaustion. You soften your tone and repeat it. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He responds. “Did the triangle guy give you shit for it?” You watch as he winces. Right on the dot. So this entity, this being, it speaks to him. “Does he talk to you?” He nods slowly, as if he’s unsure that the information he’s sharing is allowed to be told. “Dad…” You drop the tapestry. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

A prolonged silence entraps you and him. You stare at him and he stares at you and he looks so terribly conflicted with himself. He looks at you like he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong. He pushes his glasses up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I need you to get out of my lab.”

“What?” Your whole body tingles with cold chills. You can’t tell if he's joking or not. He has to be joking, right? There’s no way he’s demanding you to leave, right? “Dad I—“

“—I said that you need to leave. Why haven’t you done that already?” His voice is dangerously low. His irritation seeps deeply into his words and punches you right in the heart. You open your mouth, ready to protest, ready to fight with whatever energy you had left in you but closed it.

You backed out.

Kicking the tapestry over to him, you forcefully knock your shoulders with him as you leave. Hot tears escaped your eyes as you ran to your room, shutting the door of your room.

Ford sighs out, despair riddling his body. “And you’re sure that [Name] and Fiddleford devised a plan to turn off the portal?” He asked Bill who floated in front of him. Bill flicked his hand down. “Don’t you worry, pal! You did the right thing.” A distant look was evident on Ford’s face.

“You do a good job at listening to me, you know that, Fordsy?” Ford could only grumble in response.

Bill spun around to face the portal “When do you think this portal can turn on?”

“Tomorrow.” Ford firmly says. “Do you think you can rally those two knuckleheads tomorrow? You need a test dummy afterall!”

“I might be able to.”

The morning blooms to life and you’re left rotting on the bed, not wanting to move from the only place that provided you constant comfort. Hours pass by when you hear Fiddleford’s voice. You sprung up from the bed. What is he doing here? Making a beeline to the bathroom, you quickly brush your teeth and hurry on down to the living room. They’re nowhere to be seen.

You rush to the lab and open the door. The ground shifts as the portal powers to life. You watch as they approach the roaring portal, test dummy in hand. What happens next all happens too fast. Fiddleford’s wrist got tied to rope that was on the test dummy and got pulled along with it, his head getting sucked in. You run over to your dad, hands latching on to the rope that was conveniently on his ankle. Together, you and Ford pull him back in. You fall back to the floor. Fiddleford violently trembles as he speaks some garbled nonsense.

“Fiddleford?”

He sits up, staring blankly ahead of him. “When gravity falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with one eye!”

“Fiddleford, get a hold of yourself. You’re not making any sense!” Ford reached out to Fiddleford but he flinched away before he could. “This machine is dangerous,” He states, hugging his arm. “You’ll bring about the ends of the world with this!” He grabs onto Ford’s shoulder. “Destroy it before it destroys us all!”

“I can’t, Fiddleford. This is my life's work!”

Fiddleford looks down to the floor. “I fear we unleashed a grave danger on the world.” He looks petrified. Whatever he saw on the other hand has mentally taken a toll on him within a matter of seconds. He looks up to Ford, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not gonna ask again.” His body tremors in fear. “You need to destroy the machine, Ford. Please, I beg of you.”

“Fiddleford. I can’t just throw this all away.” Ford says.

Fiddleford studies his face, hoping that a part of Ford was lying. But when Ford’s stern face unwavering, Fiddleford broke. “Then I quit.” He stands up from the floor, his eyes gazing at you one last time before he marches out of the lab, leaving you and Ford stunned.

“Fear the beast with one eye,” You echoed, your mind instantly flashing to the image of the yellow triangle Ford has everywhere. Ford had seemed to make the same revelation. He shuffles to his feet, still shaken up by what had just happened, he stumbles a bit as he goes back inside the lab, pulling out his journal 3 notebook. “Shut off the portal!” He commands.

You don’t waste a second getting up and switching off every knob, lever and button. Sneaking careful glances to Ford, you can see him writing, his pressure on the pencil is so hard that the words he writes come out thick and black. You just stand there and watch him visibly break down, his mental health deteriorating as the minutes go on.

“I need to destroy the portal and burn the journals,” He finally speaks up after a long minute. “And we’re leaving Gravity Falls once I deal with everything.” He slammed the book shut and tucked it inside his coat. “We’re what? Leaving Gravity Falls?” You follow him closely as he leaves the lab, eyes clouded over with fear. “It’s not safe here, [Name].”

The whole day is such a messy blur. Too overwhelmed with your emotions you couldn’t grasp the severity of the situation. You were still hung up on the fact Fiddleford left. The look in his eyes will be forever ingrained in your memory. Everything around you is falling apart and you can’t seem to pick up the pieces and fix it. Sleep was unachievable. Closing your eyes would replay the memories of what happened hours prior.

Footsteps approached your room, but they weren’t the ones you were familiar with. These were messy and uncoordinated. Bangs of someone slamming against the wall shook your room and before you could have any time to react, your door whips open, revealing Ford. You breathe out in relief. It was just your dad.

Ford’s head pulls up as if it’s being controlled by a string and stares you down with a wide smile. His comforting brown eyes weren’t there anymore. Instead, they glowed a disgusting yellow. His pupils were a black slit and you felt your blood run cold and the world around you stopping. You felt like a fool to think you were safe.

“Nice to finally meet you!” Another person’s voice spoke using your dad’s mouth. “Names Bill, Bill Cipher!” He hung out his hand for you to shake. Your body felt like cement was encased in your veins, preventing you from moving. His eyes switched from his hand to yours a few times before pulling his hands back. “I see you don’t do handshakes. I get it! You’re probably thinking where’s my dad right now? What is inside of him? What is going ooonnn?!” He lets out a laugh. “Right? You’re thinking that?”

Your voice dies in your throat, your words failing you. “Hmm, maybe I chose the wrong day to come out…Should I have done it tomorrow?” He thinks out loud, tapping his finger on his chin, exactly the way your dad did. “Well, too late to think about what could’ve happened!” He jolts towards you, his hand grabbing your wrist. You break out of your trance “Let go of me!” You screech. Your fist clenched, ready to blow a punch to Bill’s arm when it hit you, this is your dad’s body. Any injury you inflict on Bill is also harming your dad. “What? Are you too scared to hit me because I’m in Ford’s body?” A cackle leaves Bill. “This will make this so much easier then!”

“Make what easier?” Not knowing what Bill was scheming made everything feel so much scarier. “I’m breaking into Sixer’s lab! But I just need your help.” A warm sensation drips onto your hand and slides down to your arm. You feel bile climb up your throat when you see that it was blood seeping out of the various open wounds Bill had given to Ford on his knuckles. “W-what did you do?!” The wounds weren’t deep, but the skin was ripped open and Bill dragging you down to the lab only peeled the skin open even more. “Just tried bashing the door down. Is it obvious that it didn't work?”

You reached the lab’s door. Blood was smudged on the door, some dripping down to the floor. The strong scent of metal hung in the air and you could feel your stomach churning. “Unfortunately for me, Sixer can be a real genius at times. He implemented this stupid security system so I couldn’t get in!” Bill’s other hand grips your hair. “It won’t work with my eye, but it’ll work with youuurss!” His hand in your hair pushes your head towards the eye scanner. You yelp out in pain. “Oh, stop complaining!” His finger pressed a button and the scanner began inspecting your eye, before it could do a proper scan you screwed your eyes shut. “Oh no you don’t.” Bill pries your eye open and starts the scanner all over again. You tried struggling against it, but his boot stomped down on your ankle, twisting it sideways. “I just wanted to do that!” You screamed in agony, tears pouring out of your eyes.

A loud beep sounded and you thought you were granted access when Bill cursed under his breath. He throws you against the wall, you head knocking against it. “So useless!” He delivers a punch to the door. “I will get access to that portal.” He shoots over to you, a large toothy smile that spreads ear to ear unnaturally took over Ford’s face. “Or maybe I can think of other ways to convince him to–” His eyes roll to the back of his head and he falls back. “Dad!” You crawl over to him, hands on his cheeks as you watch his eyes flutter open. No longer were they yellow.

“Oh, thank god!” You wrap him in a hug, tears falling down your face. “D-Did I fall asleep?” Ford slurred out. As Ford’s surroundings came back to him, his face scrunches up when he’s assaulted with the stench of blood. “[Name], what happened?”

“Bill tried breaking into the lab to use the portal.” You say, giving him a squeeze before giving him space. “Did he get in?” He groans as he sits up, body terribly sore. “No, he didn’t.” His eyesight focuses on you, eyes blowing wide when he sees blood staining your hand and arm. “Did he hurt you?” He grabs onto your hand, looking for any damage. “He didn’t make me bleed. Just gave me a tiny concussion and a twisted ankle probably.”

Ford stays silent for a moment, his head replaying your words. Anger boiled in his chest as he thought of the ways he hurt you while he was possessing his body. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fine!” You assure. “I’m more worried about your knuckles.” You say, looking at the splintering skin. “My knuckles?” He casts his gaze over his knuckles and winces at the sight. “He does not know when to give up.”

The rest of the night was you patching Ford up and him patching you up. Conversation floated between you and him as if the previous days were nothing but a nightmare. That’s when he unloaded everything about Bill onto you, from the moment they made the deal to when the portal was revealed to be nothing but a way for Bill to take over Earth. You could see the remorse on his face as he talked, speaking on how he felt so stupid for falling into his tricks, believing the lies he told and how he almost caused a rift between the two of you. You already figured out most of what he told you prior to the conversation, but having it proven to be true and not baseless guesses was astounding.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting for the past year.” He says, holding you tightly to his chest. “It’s okay, Dad. You were under his influence and believed him more than you believed yourself.” You tell him.

From then on out, you and Ford searched for anything that’ll help defeat Bill. Ford stumbled across a book with armor that was supposed to keep Bill out of the mind. The machinery was horribly outdated but by growing on their ideas, you and Ford had a solid outline of a modern alternative. Assembling it was another story.

“Does this go here or here?”

“No..I think it goes here?”

The idea was scrapped and Ford was back to square one. Without Fiddleford’s brilliance in machinery, the protective armor was pretty much unachievable. And right before you knew it, the inevitable came. Ford fell asleep. You walked into his room with what you originally thought was him hunched over his desk, sticky notes stuck to every part of the wall and desk. Bill heard you walk in and shot up from his chair. “Oh, am I glad to see you!” Bill approached you with open arms.

“What are you doing, Bill?” You tried your best to sound menacing but your voice betrayed you. “I’m just trying to convince your dad to talk to me again. Do you think that’s possible?” He grabs your arm and pulls you to the desk. “Or maybe shedding your blood on the post-it notes would fasten the process?” His hands dig in the cabinet, pulling up a box cutter. You watch in horror as the blade pops out. “My blood won’t solve anything!” You said, trying to yank your arm away from his grip but it was too tight. “Then should I spill your blood and his?” He has the blade to your arm and you do your very best to stay still. Any movement and you'll surely rip some skin open. You sit in a pool of your own anxiety, waiting for Bill to slash your arm open but he never does. He drops the box cutter and shoves you. “Doing that will only make him hate me even more!” He yells, bashing his head on the wall repeatedly.

“Hey!” You pull him back by the shoulder. “Are you trying to give yourself a headache!” Bill ignores you and sits back down on the chair, obsessively writing post-it notes where he begs for Ford’s forgiveness. And for a while, that’s how they communicated. Through notes. At some point, the whole room was covered in writings of both Bill and Ford. When that didn’t work, he tapped a snake to Ford’s journal. It was back and forth of childish antics between the two of them.

The more this progressed the more sleep deprived Ford became, the more paranoid he grew. “There’s no other options left.” He said, running his hands down his head. “I was stupid to believe I could defeat Bill and I thought Fiddleford would’ve had something, but he didn’t. Just a ripped up picture of us from college.” In his hands were the two pieces of the photo. You reached a dead end and you’re not sure if you can escape this one. “Has Fiddleford answered your calls?” He asks, thumb caressing the photo of Fiddleford.

“He answered.” You crack your fingers. “He, uh…Doesn’t remember us.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t remember us?”

“I don’t know, he just asked who I was and why I kept calling. And when I told him about you and me he said I got the wrong person and hung up.” Heartbreak, after heartbreak. Nothing good seemed to come out of this situation and you were growing tired of all of it. You haven’t even gone outside to catch a breath of fresh air. You were too afraid Bill was lurking, waiting for you to be alone so he could find a twisted way to convince Ford to be on his side again.

Ford clenched the hand where the photo of himself was. Tears dripped from his eyes and down to the floor. “I’m so sorry for pulling you into this, kiddo.” He says. “You didn’t know that this was going to be the outcome, Dad. It’s okay.” You pull him for a hug. “I was so obsessed with finding answers that I–” Ford stopped himself with a garbled sob. “You didn’t know, Dad.” This was all too real, all too scary. You didn’t even want to think about how it would end.

The months passed through your fingers and before you could sit back and relax, winter was here. Your favorite season. You were unsure on how to feel. The last winter was filled with memories to remember but thinking back on them only brought a chill to your heart. One day, a knock was heard from outside. “Dad!” You run over to get him, your heart bashing against your ribcage. “There’s someone at the door.” A year prior to this, you would’ve been more than happy to open the door, but considering what has happened the last few months, anything that dealt with leaving home was mind numbingly terrifying. “It’s okay. If anything happens, hide in the lab.”

Arming himself with a crossbow, he opened the door. Aiming the crossbow at the person in front of him. “Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.” A gruff voice spoke. “Stanley,” Ford drops the crossbow. “Did anyone follow you, anyone at all?”

“Eh, hello to you too, pal.” Ford grabs him by the collar and pulls him in, shutting the door behind him. “[Name], flashlight please! And hurry!” Ford holds out his hand and you place the flashlight you found discarded on the floor in his hand. “W-What? Who?” Ford flashes the lights in his eyes. “Ah! Hey,” The man in the beanie pushes Ford’s hands down. “What is this?” Then his eyes trail over to you. “And who is this?” The gears turn in his head and his eyebrows furrow in shock. “You have a kid!”

“That’s not the point.” Ford urged him to come in. He followed, his eyes never leaving you. “Hi, Uncle.” You nervously waved at him. “Does he talk about me?” Stan asks but he was pulled away from you before you could answer. Ford began spilling to him how he couldn’t trust no one, no one except him. Collecting all the books in his hands he went to the portal, you and Stan behind.

Showing him the portal, he explained how he’s the only person he could trust with the last notebook. He tells Stan to sail far away to keep the book from getting into the wrong hands. ”That’s it?” Stan clenches the book in his hand, a scowl on his face. “I finally get to see you after 17 years and the first thing you tell me is to get as far away from you as possible?”

“Stanley, you don't understand what we’re up against. What we’ve been through!” Ford walks past Stan, his hand gripping his hair. “We? C’mon, Stanford. Don’t tell me you dragged your kid into this.”

An argument unfolded and no matter how hard you tried to stop them from fighting, they continued on. It got to the point where it got physical and where Stan got injured. Ford came to his side, asking if he was okay. Stan, overrun by anger pushed him, Ford’s back slamming against the lever which powered on the portal. Your stomach drops. Last time that portal was on, you lost Fiddleford, you can’t lose your dad too.

Shoving the book into Ford’s chest was the last straw that broke the bridge. The portal sucked up Ford, suspended in the air he threw the book towards Stan. You ran over to grab your dad but he was too far beyond your reach. Your breathing was quickened and your head was spinning. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Uncle Stan, do something!”

“Stanley, do something!”

His name was being shouted in his ears, overwhelmed he didn’t know what to do. Ford was fully sucked in and the portal shut off, blasting you and Stan back. When you recovered from the initial blast, you got up to your feet and grabbed the switch. You pulled with all your might, but nothing worked. “Uncle Stan!” You sobbed out. “Do something, please! Help me!”

“K-Kid, I…” He walks towards you. His words were failing him, he didn’t know what to say. He had just ripped your father away from you and he lost his brother. Not knowing what else to do, he wraps you in a hug as you painfully sob into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, kid.”

@catr4dora @squ4respace i hope u guys liked it!! i wrote it with u guys in mind LMFAO and if u didn't im so sorry gulp

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines #stanford pines x child!reader #stanford pines x daughter! reader #stanford pines x daughter!reader #ford pines x child!reader #ford pines x daughter!reader #ford pines x daughter #ford pines x reader #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #stanford x fiddleford #fiddleauthor #fiddleford x stanford

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annebaby · 6 months ago

Text

hello all! its summer break, so hopefully i will stay motivated to write. one of my friends helped me come up with this idea, so i hope you like!!

warnings: fingering (r receiving), kissing, biting, public sex

divider from here!

coffee shop

college english - absolutely horrific. i’ve gotten a new essay assignment every week, each one being over a topic that was far too complex to make sense of. however, i had aced all of them.

so this week, i was fully prepared to ace another essay. my brain had been working overtime trying to predict the upcoming topic.

i travelled to the college’s local coffee shop, looking forward to my headphones, an iced matcha, and a few hours of pure focus.

i entered the shop, finding a seat tucked in the back corner. i set my stuff down and went up to order, feeling my phone vibrate while i was waiting for my drink.

it was an email from my professor with this weeks essay assignment.

“how do you challenge yourself to let go of things stopping you from being independent?”

what the fuck?

normally, this would be an easy topic. an easy answer to a simple question. but right now - it wasn’t.

i had just gotten over a fresh breakup with my now-ex girlfriend, kate martin. it was hard enough seeing her as the poster athlete all over campus, being reminded of her looming residence in my heart.

however, i recently had begun to work on myself and forgetting all the memories we had once shared. our breakup was civil, but the constant gossip of every recent hookup she had was like a dagger to the heart.

i prayed this assignment wouldn’t bring up all those feelings again. it was hard enough to get to where i was now. countless nights of crying to my roommates, eating junk food, drinking, etc. had gotten me to where i was now. i was happy.

that was until i saw my english assignment.

“iced matcha latte!” the barista called out.

i walked up to the counter, thanking her before sitting back down in my corner and opening my laptop. i put on my headphones, taking a deep breath before locking in and starting to write.

i wrote for what seemed like hours. i wrote about how i had gotten over my recent breakup by working out, giving myself time, and hanging out with friends (minus the excessive drinking). it was hard not to think about her blonde hair sprawled across my pillows when she would stay over. it was hard not to think about the way she would kiss me after she won a game. it was hard not to - wait, no.

i wasn’t doing this again. i couldn’t do this again.

i took my headphones off and paused my music, taking a break from the writing. i looked up and noticed how crowded the coffee shop had actually gotten. people had been piling in, and now it was almost full.

the line was at least 7 people long, each one talking to another person with them. i smiled to myself, feeling happiness radiating throughout the cafe.

until i saw that blonde hair. it wasn’t cascading over my pillows though. it was falling onto the shoulder of the girl she had brought with her. kate martin and the new mystery girl of the week, who would’ve guessed?

i scowled at the sight of them, anger filling my veins to distract me from my jealous, sad feelings. i wanted that to be me. that SHOULD be me.

fuck, why am i like this?

i pop my headphones back on my head, resuming the music with the volume all the way up. i try to ignore her presence, acting like i simply never saw her at all. its easier that way. i don’t want to see her doting on another new girl.

i regain my focus on my essay, but this time the words aren’t coming out as easily. instead, i was re-typing all my sentences. each word was filled with hate and anger, reflecting my feelings in this situation.

frustrated, i look up across the shop, immediately catching kate already staring at me.

god.

i quickly look away, pausing my music and heading to the restroom. i shut the door behind me, looking at my reflection in the mirror. all i see is a women who is defeated. a woman who is tired, angry and upset.

before i let the tears fall, i put my face in my hands. im squeezing my face, gently tugging on my own hair, and sighing out of anger. my leg starts subconsciously bouncing up and down, my anger starting to physically course through me.

the door opens. i turn my head to see the very person causing me to be this way.

kate notices me completely disheveled, locking the door behind her.

“hey, are you okay?” she asks. her hand reaches for my shoulder, but i stand back.

“im fine,” i say, trying to push my way past her back out to my laptop, my sanctuary.

but, she won’t let me pass. instead, she picks me up and sets me onto the bathroom counter, standing between my legs. i look away, not being able to look her in the eyes with tears now generously streaming down my cheeks.

“you’re not fine,” she says, cautiously wiping my tears. i swat her hand away.

“what makes you think you’re still allowed to touch me? talk to me like this?” i bawl.

i hop off the counter, now standing in front of her.

“go back to this week’s fuck and leave me alone,” i head for the door, but i’m stopped as kate grabs my wrist and pulls me back around to face her, unbearably close.

“please, just talk to me,” kate pleads.

i squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain flooding throughout my head.

i look up at her, tears still falling down my face.

“you’re such an assho-

i’m cut off by kate’s hands on either side of my face, pulling me in for a sweet, hungry kiss. my hands hover over her, surprise engulfing me as i struggled to comprehend what was happening.

she pulled back, looking at me between my eyes. she was desperately trying to assess my reaction.

a moment of boldness was all it took for me to lose all control, and there was no need for her to assess when my hands reached her waist and pulled her into me. i smashed my lips to hers, her hands gripping my ass.

i groaned into her and she uses her opportunity to invade my mouth. taken aback, i stumble backwards until my ass is against the sink of the restroom.

“jump,” she whispers.

i suddenly realize how unfortunate this situation is - making out with my ex girlfriend in a coffee shop while she’s out with another girl.

its almost as if kate sees the realization cross my face when she says, ”its fine, its fine," against my neck. her voice gives me chill bumps, flashbacks to our previous encounters flashing through my mind.

her fingers are toying with the waistband of my shorts, dipping in and out teasingly. i feel her lips moving and nipping at my neck, no doubt leaving marks for me to discover later - kate’s signature move.

i whined her name, practically begging for her to slip her fingers in me. she smirked against my skin. i hated being so needy, but kate loved to tease. i could not handle that right now.

“please kate, please,” i whispered.

“what do you want?” she breathed.

her stupid pride. her stupid ego. had i really forgotten the way she’d make me beg for her? i laughed.

“you don’t deserve to hear me beg.”

i grab her wrist and move her fingers to my center, immediately feeling her fingers tense at my wetness.

i grab her shoulder with my free arm, my forehead digging into her neck. her fingers started tracing circles on my most sensitive spot, causing me to bite her shoulder to keep myself from moaning. in response, i feel two of her fingers dive into me, curling and straightening as she fucks me with them. i lift my head up to look at her face, her eyes looking downward between us the whole time.

“fuck,” i whisper. i feel myself coming undone, seeing her that focused on the connection between us was sending me over the edge.

she smiles and meets my eyes quickly.

“c’mon, you can do it,” she breathes. she leans forward and takes my bottom lip in between her lip, tugging on it. i felt the tightness in my stomach loosen.

kate breathed out as if she had been holding a breath this entire time. she helped me finish out my high, before sticking her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean of me.

she stands in front of me, unphased. meanwhile, i’m heaving, my legs shaking and cramping. i look at her, my face puffy from my previous crying.

and we just start laughing. i hop off the counter, standing on my tip toes to give her a quick kiss. this felt like old times, our feelings felt like they had never left.

“tell your whore that i’m back,” i whisper.

her eyes widen in amusement, her hands finding a resting spot on my waist.

“i’ll be at your place later so we can talk about… this.” i motion back and forth between us.

i leave her grasp and walk back out in the coffee shop, returning to my laptop. smiling to myself, i read the essay that i had so effortlessly typed out. i delete the entire thing before closing my laptop.

i couldn’t write about being independent after my ex girlfriend had ruthlessly fucked me in the coffee shop bathroom.

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rose-pearls · 11 months ago

Text

Lost without you

I had an idea this morning and I wrote it until I realised that his had become quite long but hopefully you enjoy this!! Reader is Percy, Annabeth's and Grover's age and is Luke's sister. I am working on requests that I received and my requests are still open if you have any!

Summary: As Luke's sister you had only seen the best in him but as the identity of the lightning thief comes to light your whole world breaks down. (Brother!Luke & Sister!reader, Percy Jackson x reader)

Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303, @abbersreads (open)

The quest had been hard, harder than you could have ever imagined but in the end you did manage to complete it. The only thing you could hope was that Sally Jackson would be returned and that Percy would be able to see her once again.

There was a weird atmosphere at camp, everyone was ready to celebrate when Percy came back but you couldn’t stop watching Clarisse. You had told your brother that she was the lightning thief and yet she was still here, parading around with her siblings.

“Stop watching her,”, you hear someone say softly and you turn around to find Luke smiling at you softly.

“Sorry, I just can’t help it,” you tell him, and he nods slowly before sitting down next to you.

“What is going through your mind?”, he asks after a few seconds of watching a few campers bringing the fireworks to the lake.

“It just seems too easy,” you whisper and Luke frowns at your words.

“What do you mean?”, he says, looking slightly worried but you just shake your head.

“The fact that Clarisse could be the lightening thief. It seems too easy, like someone is trying to make her the thief when she didn’t do it,” you tell him and as you turn to look at him you find a somber expression on his face, but there is some sort of sadness in his eyes that you just can’t place.

“But I’m probably spiraling, I didn’t get enough sleep,” you tell him, and Luke seems a little bit relieved at your words before throwing his arm around your shoulders and bringing you closer.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it. But right now, you just need to relax and enjoy the celebration. Just be a kid for one moment,”, he tells you with a soft smile, and you nod in agreement after letting out a sigh.

“I missed you,” you say, and Luke’s smile turns sad for a moment before bringing you closer and dropping a kiss on your forehead, lingering as if this would be the last time in a long time, he would be doing this.

“Missed you too little sis,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words.

“Not so little anymore,” you tease him, and Luke lets out a laugh at your words.

“You will always be my little sister, you can’t escape it,” he tells you and you laugh softly at the words, a familiar warmth envelops you at the words.

You hadn’t really known your father, after Luke had yelled at him, he had disappeared like thin air. The only family you had was your mother, Luke, Annabeth and once Thalia. But the list had grown over the past week, Percy and Grover becoming close friends, even if you couldn’t help but see Percy in a different light. He was handsome, every person at camp could tell you that but it was his personality that made you slowly fall for him, his unwavering loyalty and that true kindness.

“Percy is back!”, Annabeth yells as she arrives and you quickly jump up at the words, making Luke look at you in surprise and Annabeth with a knowing smile. You blushed at the look the daughter of Athena gave you, the both of you had talked about your little crush once you had gone back to camp. The first night back you couldn’t sleep, and it seemed as if Annabeth couldn’t either because the two of you found yourself at the lake, whispering about everything you could think of.

The clapping and cheering of the campers brought you back from your daydream and Annabeth took you by the hand to see where Percy was, Luke following close behind. There he was, looking surprised at the cheering, but still moving forward and you had an urge to go and hug him but as you felt Luke presence behind you, you felt unsure, until Annabeth pushed you slightly forward.

Percy seemed relieved at the sight of you, but you told yourself it was because he could also see Annabeth behind you. The cheers seemed to get louder as you brought him into a hug, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around you, holding you close. There was that familiar smell of the ocean, that always seemed to cling to him.

“Do you see her?”, you can’t help but ask and you can feel Percy’s confusion until her whispers Clarisse’s name.

“What is she doing here?”, he whispers, and you shake your head.

“Not here, we’ll talk about it in the cabin,” you tell him and Percy nods as you slowly let go of him, not seeing the disappointed look that appears in Percy’s eyes. Annabeth joins the two of you and she quickly brings Percy into a quick hug. You turn to look at your brother, who has a somber expression on his face, his eyes hard but they soften at the sight of you watching him.

“Why is she still here?”, Percy asks as the four of you find yourself in the Hermes cabin, Luke had quickly joined you after you left the celebrations.

“Camp was a mess when you weren’t here, everyone was ready to fight each other. An accusation against Clarisse,”

“Without proof,” Annabeth adds, making Luke nod in agreement.

“Exactly, without proof, it would’ve lit this whole place on fire,” Luke tries to explain, and you nod in agreement, people had seemed tense when you had come back.

“Now you’re back, you saved the world by stopping the war,” a proud smile appears on your lips at Luke’s words and Percy somehow stands straighter, he had always looked up to Luke.

“It’s time to tell Chiron and clean up this whole mess. I told him that we wanted to meet him away from the celebration, so that no one could hear us, especially Clarisse supporters,” Luke explains further, and you can’t help but have a bad feeling, but you brushed it away, thinking that it was just the lack of sleep that made you paranoid.

“I’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you are gone,” Annabeth says and Luke nods in agreement.

“The both of you can do that,” Luke says while looking at you and you quickly agree.

“Of course,” you tell them, trying to smile reassuringly and it seems to work, only Percy looks at you with a worried gaze, but you ignore it.

“Great, then we will meet back here. Ready?”, Luke asks Percy and the boy nods, looking confident as the two of them leave towards the clearing.

Annabeth and you had been watching the Ares kids, Clarisse at the center of the circle, talking and laughing with her siblings.

“Annie, I have a bad feeling,” you whisper, and she looks at you in surprise, but there is something in her eyes that make you think she understands what you are saying.

“About Clarisse?”, she asks, and you nod slowly, trying to find the words to explain it all.

“Don’t worry, she won’t do anything to us and if she tries, we will be able to defend ourselves,” she says but you shake your head at her words.

“Clarisse being the one to steal the master bold is too easy, it’s like a trap to hide the real person behind it. I can’t stop thinking about it, but it just doesn’t make sense that she would steal it,” you explain and Annabeth seems to think for a moment, her eyes focused before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Who could be the one that stole it?”, she asks, and you shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking that there is something wrong here,” you tell her, and she nods slowly.

“We need to find Luke and Percy, hopefully before they speak to Chiron,” she says and there is an urgency in her tone as she makes you stand up from your hiding place.

The woods are quiet, the only sound resonating through it are the distant sounds of fireworks and cheers from the campers. You see Luke and Percy standing there but before you can go there, Annabeth stops you, a finger on her mouth to tell you to stay quiet.

“The reason Clarisse is still here is because you never said anything to Chiron. Did you?”, Percy says, and you feel breathless for a moment, Annabeth looks at you with equally worried eyes.

“You couldn’t. Because you knew that Clarisse didn’t steal the bolt. You did,” the words linger in the air, and you feel like you are suffocating on the words you just heard. You wait for Luke to say it isn’t true and that Percy got it all wrong.

“You worked with Ares to plant it on me, so when the shoes you gave me would pull me into Tartarus the bolt would be delivered to Kronos,” you feel sick at the words and Annabeth looks as devastated as you. You pray for this to all be just a dream, you even pray to your dad to wake you up from this nightmare.

“I didn’t think you would give them to Grover to wear,” Luke says, in a voice that you had never heard before and you want to throw up at the words. You still remember the deep fear that had gripped you when Grover started being pulled towards the large hole. Annabeth has tears in her eyes as you shake your head, your ears ringing as you hear Luke continue his speech.

You knew that he hated the gods, for what they did to all of you, for what your father did to your mother. But you never thought he would do this, betray camp and follow Kronos.

“You are being manipulated by Kronos,” Percy tells him, and you desperately wait for Luke to realize his mistake.

“No, he opened my eyes,” Luke says, and you don’t recognize the voice of your older brother.

The sound of swords hitting each other make you look up, holding Annabeth’s hand to try and reassure her and you at the same time.

“Our parents aren’t perfect, but they are trying. I met your dad,” Percy says and before you can even think of warning Percy about speaking of Hermes to Luke you hear the sound of swords clashing against each other.

You want to get up and put an end to this, but Annabeth holds your hand tighter and shakes her head as you look at her.

“I need to help him,” you whisper, and she shakes her head, sadness in her eyes.

“Who? Luke or Percy?”, she asks, and you feel like the world has shattered around you.

“Percy,” you whisper, and she nods in agreement, but she looks pained at the words. You don’t realize tears are streaming down your face until a tear falls on your hand, making you look at a teary-eyed Annabeth.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Percy say and you lift your head up just in time to see Luke slice open Percy’s arm, making you feel sick.

Your dagger flies quickly through the air, making both boys look at you. Luke seems pained at the sight of you, like you are piercing your dagger through his chest, like you were the one betraying him.

He whispers your name; sadness covers his words and for a moment you wonder if this is your big brother again. The one who had helped you through the nightmares, who had protected you from every monster you had ever seen.

“This is not what it looks like,” he says, his tone now pleading but you shake your head.

“I heard everything Luke,” you tell him, your voice breaking over the words and Annabeth appears next to you, making Luke look even more pained.

“You made us all turn against an innocent person, when you were the one who had stolen the bolt,” you tell him, and he tries to speak but you shake your head.

“Don’t try to tell me you can explain this, because even if you did it would always come back to the fact that you were the one who did it,” you tell him, and Luke has tears in his eyes at your words.

“I did this for us, to stop the Gods from being able to do whatever they wanted with us,” he tries to say but you scoff at the words.

“You did this for yourself!”, you scream, feeling like someone is killing you from the inside.

“Don’t come here and tell us that you did this for us when you nearly send us all to our deaths with your plan,” Luke closes his eyes at your words, his hand wrapped tightly around his sword.

“Don’t do this, don’t go through with this,” you plead, trying to make him understand that there is still another way.

“I have to, I won’t go back to just doing whatever the Gods want us to do,” he says, in a voice that is so cold that you feel lost.

“But you can join me, we can escape this all and go make a better world. You and me, like old times,” Luke says, and you feel tears falling down your cheeks as Luke gets closer to you, there is a softness in his eyes that always came when talking to you.

You don’t know what to say, you don’t want to lose your big brother, not when you practically lose your mother every time you see her. There is a soft whisper of your name, and you turn to see Percy looking at you with pleading eyes, he is holding his arm, where he had been hit by Luke.

“I can’t, I can’t join you,” you say to Luke, and it is perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to say to your brother. But watching his emotions change before your eyes from a soft look to pure rage made it all worse.

“So, you are choosing him, a guy you haven’t known for more than two weeks over your brother?”, there is sarcasm dripping over his words but the anger radiating from him makes you take a step back.

“I don’t want to Luke, but you give me no choice,” you tell him, hoping that your bother will come back to his senses, but he lets out a cold laugh that makes you shiver.

Percy quickly comes in front of you, putting you behind him to make sure you are safe, and Riptide is in his hand. His other hand is still holding you behind him and you look at Annabeth who takes out her own dagger and points it at Luke.

Your brother looks pained at the sight of his other sister turning against him and for a moment you think that he will be fighting the two of them before he runs and disappears into the portal. You look at it, watching the light from the sign he had carved disappearing, and you feel lost, like you had just lost a part of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Percy says, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes, he looks sad, and you could understand why, the man he had looked up to turned out to be the bad guy all along.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you tell him before turning to look at Annabeth who has finally let the tears fall down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry Annie,” you tell her before bringing her into a tight hug, the girl holds you just as tight and the two of you stay like that for a moment, trying to put yourselves together again.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispers, and you just squeeze her in response before letting her go and wiping away the tears that had fallen on your cheeks.

Percy has an awkward smile as you turn back to him, but you just step towards him, taking his arm in your hand and looking at the wound in worry.

“You should have this checked out after we talk to Chiron,” you tell him as you brush the skin just under it, but as the boy doesn’t answer you look up to find him looking at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

“I will,” he says after clearing his throat and you nod slowly, feeling a blush appearing on your cheeks as you realize you had been holding his arms for a moment.

“Right, sorry,” you say, and you take your hand away, but Percy takes your hand in his. He looks away as you look at him in surprise, but you hold his hand tighter.

“Thought you might want some reassurance after what happened and didn’t want you to get lost in the woods,” he says, and you glare at the boy as his eyes light up in mischief.

“You ass, I got lost one time and you weren’t even here!”, you say but your words aren’t heard as Annabeth and Percy start laughing.

“Common seaweed brain, we should get you some water to heal that wound,” Annabeth says and Percy nods in agreement before following her towards the lake, his hand still holding yours as if he was scared you would disappear.

You turn to look at the portal one last time, wondering if Luke would suddenly appear again and tell you that it was all a misunderstanding. But it stays void, making you turn back towards your friends and join the conversation.

“What does she think of it all?”, you hear Percy ask and both Annabeth and you turn to find him standing there with a smile.

“It’s a tree seaweed brain, it doesn’t talk,” she says with an eyeroll but there is a fond smile on her lips.

“But I’m sure she would be thrilled about it,” you tell Annabeth, making the girl smile as you join her and Percy.

“What are you going to do with your dad?”, the boy asks, and you turn to look at Annabeth with a smile.

“He wants to go to New York, so I’ll pretend I haven’t been there. And then he wants to take me to someplace called Disneyworld. It sounds a little like Waterland but less dangerous,” she says, looking slightly unsure and you can’t stop yourself from smiling even wider.

“Or did I understand that wrong? You better tell me what I’m walking in to!”, she says looking scared, but you just laugh in response.

“Just be a kid,” Percy says, and you feel your throat close up at the words. Luke had said the same words to you before everything went downhill, and now you were going home alone.

“Guys!”, you hear Grover yell and you all cheer as he arrives.

“Did you get it?”, you quickly ask, and he carefully removes his jacket to show a beautiful green flower.

“I can officially start to search for Pan!”, he says, and you all congratulate him.

“Everyone always looked on the ground and land, but no one has ever searched the oceans so I think I will start there,” Grover says, and you can’t help but feel excited for your friend.

“If you ever need help, I know some people under there,” Percy says with a cheeky smile, and you roll your eyes at his words.

“Before we go, we need to promise each other that we will all be here together again next year, the four of us,” Percy says and the three of you nod in response.

“We will all be there,” you say and Percy smiles softly at you.

“Come here!”, Grover yells before bringing the four of you into a hug and you close your eyes as you wrap your arms around your friends, holding them as tight as you can before you have to let them go.

“Enjoy New York and Disneyworld Annie and Grover good luck for your quest!”, you tell them and the two of them look excited at the prospect before Annabeth takes you by the hand, a bit further away.

“Good luck with your mother, if you ever need me, you know I’m always available,” she says, and you nod in agreement.

“Don’t worry, enjoy the time you have with your father! I’ll be just fine, I won’t be the only one in New York now,” you tell her, and she has a dangerous smile on her lips as her eyes light up in mischief.

“That’s right, you will be able to spend all seventh grade with Percy,” you hit her in the arm at her wink and you can’t help but blush as she laughs.

“Nothing will happen,” you tell her, and she looks unimpressed before humming, an unimpressed look in her eyes.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” she says before joining the others making you shake your head.

“See you all in a few months?”, you ask and Grover and Annabeth nod before leaving Percy and you next to Thalia’s tree.

“Are you sure you will be alright going alone?”, Percy asks, and you look at him with a fond smile.

“I will be just fine, go and find your mother, I’m sure she is waiting for you,” you tell him and there is a hopeful smile that appears on his lips.

“Tell me when you get there? I’ll keep you updated when we come back,” he says, and a blush appears on your cheeks at the words, but you nod quickly.

“I’ll tell you, better not leave me waiting too long Jackson or I’ll go to Coney Island without you,” you tell him in a teasing tone, but you know that you would wait for him.

“Don’t worry I’ll be there,” he says with a voice that leaves no doubt in your mind and before you can tell him goodbye, he brings you into a hug, holding you close in his arms.

“See you in a week?”, he whispers, and you nod against his shoulder, holding him tight even if you knew you were going to see him soon.

“See you in a week, don’t be stranger,” you tell him before leaving his embrace and taking your luggage.

Your mother is in the kitchen, the smell of cookies surrounds the living room, and you take a moment to take it all in. This would be the first of many times you would be coming back alone to your apartment.

There are countless boxes filled with cookies, as if she had to feed two teenagers and not one. Because she would never know that her son would never come back, too far for her to ever reach again.

“Hi mom,” you whisper, trying not to let the tear fall as memories of Luke and you come back.

“Oh, my darling, you are back!”, she says, her eyes lightening up in excitement as she brings you into a tender hug.

“So sad that your brother couldn’t leave camp, but he always did love to be there,” she says, and you hold her close, letting her believe that the tears that are falling down your cheeks are from seeing her again after such a long time. Not because you had lied to her about your brother staying at camp for the year, and the fact that she wouldn’t be seeing him again.

“Why don’t you go take a shower and then we can eat something and talk! You have already grown so much!”, she says as she pushes you into the bathroom while talking about everything that you will be talking about later on.

The week passes by with her stuffing you with cookies and stories about her friends and family and before you know it a curly haired boy has come back to New York.

“You can give him some cookies!”, your mother says before shoving you a large box of cookies.

“Are these blue?”, you ask her, unable not to feel surprised as you see them, and she has a knowing smile on her lips.

“You told me he liked blue food, and I need to make a good impression on the boy who captured your heart,” she says with a teasing smile, and you groan at the words, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I am leaving!”, you tell her, and you can hear her laughter ringing thought the hallway, making you smile.

Percy is standing there, leaning against the car in front of the building.

“Please tell me you aren’t driving that car,” you say in teasing tone and Percy rolls his eyes at the words.

“Verry funny, but no we are going with the metro if that is alright with you?”, he says, and you nod in agreement your smile wide as you take in what changed in the last few days. He had gotten even taller if that was possible.

“What are those?”, he asks, and you look at the box in your hands before giving the cookies to him.

“My mother made them for you, apparently you are her new favorite,” you tell him, and a shy smile appears on his lips as he opens the box and sees the cookies.

“They are blue?”, he says, looking surprised at the sight of them and you feel shy as he looks at you.

“Seems like she listened to me when I was talking about you and the rest of the group of course,” you tell him, feeling embarrassed at what he could be thinking right now.

“Of course,” he says with a smirk, and you feel slightly confused before he takes your hand in his, making you look up at him.

“Is this alright?”, he asks, his shy eyes looking into yours.

“Completely alright,” you tell him, making a wide smile appear on his lips.

“Common we need to take the metro to get to our date!”, Percy says, and it takes you a moment to process the words.

“Wait, date?”

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson angst #luke castellan

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eddiemunson-reader-shame · 14 days ago

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Be My Wife: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: A “friend” freaks out when you split a Coke with Eddie the Freak.

Warnings: references to A Clockwork Orange, bullying, STI/STD mention, backwash drinking

A/N: So… I know this isn’t a Christmas fic. But I wrote this because I had those times in my youth where someone spread horrid rumors about either me or my friends, and I had to make those split second decisions to determine my loyalty. I always try to be loyal as best I can.

Thank you to @writhingg for giving the green light on this fic. And big thanks to @rxqueenotd and @melodymunson as well. And big thanks to viewers like you. Thank you. ❤️

Resources: @strangergraphics-archive for the dividers.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @melodymunson @twihard28

“Hey droogie, can I have a sip of your Coke?”

You looked up from where you were perched on the pony wall by the Seven Eleven bike rack. You had been chatting with a classmate, Chessie Hagar, about purchasing a purse from her mother’s Avon Colorworks catalog. It was a new collection for the year 1977. Said eye catching magazine with its spread of rainbow themed products was currently held between the two of you, and the pages began to rattle as Chessie shook in fear upon hearing the deep voice.

A flutter-smack sounded from the girl dropping the catalog when Eddie The Freak approached. His stride was casual as one could be, whilst battling both midwestern humidity and pit sweat in a white hand-me-down Jimi Hendrix shirt and sleeveless denim vest. As one of the middle schoolers who had been blessed with a growth spurt, his lanky height, shredded second hand clothes, and shaved head often made those in your grade— and some of those above— piss their pants.

You alone did not fear him.

The Fates had elected to weave you both in a tangled web of coincidences: you had been his project partner in every shared class since you started at Hawkins Middle School together, and you just so happened to live in the same neighborhood on occasion. The distance from Al Munson’s janky two bedroom home to yours was but a hop skip and a jump. Eddie used to ding dong ditch your house when he was six, until one day your mother caught him by the ear and brought him in to mend his tattered jeans and offer up a hot meal.

To any other rando, he was an unstable pariah. But to you, he was just Eddie Munson— the cute boy next door who sometimes ate at your place. And you had become his droog after spending winter 1972 sneaking into the Hawk Theater, and making Stanley Kubrick films your new big boy personalities.

Without thinking, you handed the soft drink over. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the Coke out of your grip and went for a swig, with plush pink lips wrapping around the transparent jade glass of the lip and neck. His protruding Adam’s apple was bobbing with the rhythmic gulping, and you couldn’t stop staring.

“Thanks.” He belched out.

“You said a sip, not half the goddamn bottle!” You whined.

Eddie grinned sheepishly and backwashed a good mouthful. Giving a half assed apology and a promise to pay you back mumbled under his breath, he handed the bottle back.

“Still up for doing last minute project prep?” You asked, swirling the leftovers he’d saved for you.

“Nah, let’s take a break from the train wreck brothers. Catch you tomorrow, though?” He said, scratching a blackhead off his nose and snorting a bit, “I had an idea for the oral report that might earn us a little extra credit. Think you can mimic a British accent?”

“Eh. Can’t do an accent without sounding like fucking Alex DeLarge.” You groused.

“We can work on that. Leave your milk-plus at home, though. Don’t want me own droog reenacting some Roman ultra violence on me.”

“Just don’t go popping out from behind your curtains at me again, that’s a good way to get stabbed in the neck with my mom’s kitchen scissors.” You snorted.

“Ahhh, the droog’s no fun. I guess I can tone down the surprise pop ups, though. If you insist. Catch you later?” Eddie said, waving.

“Later. Peace out, man.”

Chessie let out a shaky, sobbing exhale when you made to drink the dregs of your soda, and you turned and raised an eyebrow.

“Whassamatter?” You asked.

“Are you nuts?! You just shared your drink with the freak!” She blurted out.

… since when the hell was sharing with Eddie a crime?

“Yeah, so? It’s hot out. He looked thirsty.” You said.

“Did you seriously forget everything we’ve heard about him?!” She whisper-screamed, “Don’t you care what everyone talks about?!”

You rolled your eyes. Everyone talked about Eddie. If you hadn’t heard at least one rumor from a faceless student whenever he walked by, you were either stupid or living under a rock. They said he was a bad boy— yes, even with a full vocabulary of slurs and insults available, they still called him a bad boy. Like if he was still in diapers drawing with crayon on the wall, and needed a spanking.

Depending on who you asked, Eddie either did or sold drugs, it was never clear which. Some of the other trailer park kids said he was a mean scrapper when he went to his uncle’s on alternate weeks. Women’s restroom lore stated that he carried a switchblade in the back pocket of his Wrangler jeans, and that he used it to torture animals for his Satanic rituals.

A million and one things were said about him on the daily, but you knew none of them were true in the slightest. None of the talk deterred you from spending time with him. Sometimes he came to your house, more often than not you went to his.

Every other day found the two of you parked in front of his mom’s turntable, jamming to Deep Purple and putting together an elaborate poster board with some spray painted fake leaves made into laurel crowns, along with a block of text about your chosen co-emperor of the early Roman Empire.

You had wanted to write about Caligula so you could use the word ‘orgy’ in the report without getting in trouble, but Eddie had insisted he had a better idea when he discovered a two years tumultuous ruling of brothers from 209 AD to 211 AD.

“As much as I love a good sex party on paper, you just know that’s what everyone else is gonna write about. Let’s write about this nut job Caracalla instead! Dude killed his brother in the arms of his mother, and struck his name from the record. That’s like, the most metal shit ever! Also, here’s a better word for you to learn: fratricide. Apparently there’s a whole list of technical terms for when you kill a family member.”

“… what’s the rumor mill gotta do with my Coke?” You deadpanned.

“If you drink after him, you’re gonna get mono like Cindy! You gotta throw it out!”

Cindy Bishop in your science class had told everyone that had functional ears— swearing up and down on her life— that Eddie Munson had kissed her and given her mononucleosis. A dreaded affliction whose nickname to you sounded like one of the variations of sound formats for any sort of audio.

“Mono…?”

“Yes! Or the syph!”

You knew Eddie had to have heard Chessie’s vitriol. Turning around, you could see him staring at the two of you from across the parking lot, one leg over his bike. There was a stinging look of betrayal on his face. Telltale signs of a wet cherry nose and shameful red cheeks gave away his mistrust; as if he was expecting you to do as your friend told, and throw the bottle he drank from in the trash.

His imaginary affliction was just that: imaginary. You knew that to be gospel.

The kiss with Cindy was real, unfortunately. It happened way before Cindy was kept home with mono, and you remembered the incident well. Eddie had come running to your house just to brag that he’d finally gotten his first kiss, and that pretty soon he’d be popping girl’s cherries left and right.

Just learning about the simple kiss had pissed you off, because the closest you’d ever gotten to kissing Eddie was sharing the same fork whenever you both roasted Vienna sausages on the gas burner in his kitchen. Eddie hadn’t been sick when Cindy stayed home, he came faithfully to school to trap you on the playground and speculate about the thousand and one hidden meanings behind the kiss.

With all the excitement, he never noticed the smallest details like you did. One of the guys in your PE class had been sent home with a rash and a high fever, and it was only a month after Cindy was rumored to have also kissed the collapsed boy that she got sick. You had always shared cups, utensils, and other things requiring mouth use with Eddie and had been fine. Yet Cindy and Tommy Hagan swapped spit once, and both were out of commission.

But no one would ever say anything about Tommy Hagan getting mono. They’d always redirect every disease outbreak to the poor loser who split time between Cherry Street and Forest Hills Trailer Park. The same poor loser who had the misfortune of wasting his first kiss with Cindy; a girl who frenched behind the portable classrooms with anything that had a pulse. People could be so blind and stupid, they failed to notice the sickness timelines were not matching up.

No one deserved their first anything to be with Cindy. Not with the way she stabbed people in the back.

You took a long, hard pause as you stared into Eddie’s wet brown eyes. He was asking you a silent question you already knew the answer to: were you a stinking traitorous droog, or a loyal one? Were you, his one friend in the entire world, going to stand against him?

Without saying a word, you looked at Chessie, then looked back again at Eddie.

In a world of traitors— where brothers stabbed brothers in the arms of their mothers, or where violent men disowned each other with drug laced milk bottles to the face, you would always pick instead to be Eddie Munson’s loyal droog.

You lathed at the lip of the bottle and stuck your tongue down the neck, and shotgunned all of Eddie’s backwash.

Chessie’s mouth dropped open as she began to gag, and Eddie opened his mouth in an obnoxious and breathless laugh as you chugged the entirety of his germs. The carbonation caught up to you, so you let a belch rip before turning back around to face him.

“I GOT YOUR MONO NOW, MUNSON!” You screamed out to him, “NOW YOU GOTTA MARRY ME!”

“IS THAT HOW IT WORKS, DROOGIE?” He shouted back, a shit eating grin stretched across his face, “YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME KNOW BEFORE I TOOK A SWIG, I WOULD HAVE MADE SURE I GOT YOU A RING POP FIRST!”

“IT'S GODDAMN ROMAN CONFARREATIO LAWS, EDDIE! YOU GAVE ME MONO INSTEAD OF SPELT BREAD, NOW YOU GOTTA MARRY ME!” You joked.

You noticed from the big, smart ass grin that he was about to do something outrageous, and your heart began to sing. He immediately got to his knee on the asphalt, everyone in the Seven Eleven parking lot watching as he began to scream like an orator in the colosseum. He used your full government name and everything when he called out to the small parking lot audience.

“HEAR ME, CITIZENS OF HAWKINS! I AM BUT A VESSEL FOR THE GODS, A BEARER, A MESSENGER OF THAT MOST HOLY WORD FROM MOUNT OLYMPUS! I HAVE SHARED OF THE COOTIE WITH A WOMAN, AND THUS OUR MARRIAGE BETWEEN EMPEROR AND DROOG IS SOLEMNIZED-…!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, FREAK!” Someone called out, immediately flinching back when Eddie rounded on him.

“THE GODS. HAVE. SPOKEN!” Eddie screeched, a glob of spit flying out of his mouth and onto the hot asphalt.

He was wide eyed. Deranged. Eddie lifted up the hem of his denim vest and held it out and to the side, to look like wings unfurling, screaming to the heavens as you began howling with him.

“YEAH!” You screamed out, raising your bottle and shouting every bit of nonsense you could think of, “GOD SANCTIONED DROOG MARRIAGE CO-RULER ULTRA-VIOLENCE! MAZEL TOV!”

“THE IMPERIAL HUSBAND NOW DEMANDS TO KISS THE DROOG BRIDE!” Eddie screamed, “PLANT ONE ON ME, GODDESS DIVINE OF THE REPUBLIC OF HAWKINS!!”

You looked at Chessie, who looked as if she was going to throw up or scream. It wasn’t immediately clear which. Instead of ending the joke, you grinned. Shrugged. The glossy magazine paper pages of the forgotten Avon Colorworks catalog ripped under the tread of your shoes when— without warning— you took off towards Eddie, and planted a fat wet kiss on his mouth. He froze for a moment, but returned the kiss with fervor, making an obnoxious hum and wet smack when you pulled away.

“Yum.” You gushed, licking your lips and changing your cadence to the unhinged Kubrick Cockney, “Them’s tasty cooties, they are, brother sir!”

“Yeah? Them false cytomegalovirus germs are what taste good to ya, droog?” He laughed, wrapping his arms around you and putting on his own terrible accent.

“That they are, sir, that’s what gives all me food and drink that plus flavor.” You grinned.

The two of you cackled, thoroughly enjoying throwing out random quotes and various insanities that to the normal person would put them off of your insanity and edge-lord humor. Chessie had long since taken off for the gated community of Loch Nora on her bike, but you didn’t care. You could live without a selection of eyeshadows, a rainbow tote purse, and all of your false friends if the choice came down to choosing them, or Eddie.

“Wanna go into the gas station and split another bottle of mono before we blow this joint?” You asked.

His grin could have rivaled that of Malcolm McDowell.

“Now, how can I say no to my new wife?” He grinned, holding out his arm for you to take, “But I am a man of my word, so you’re getting a new Coke, plus that Ring Pop so’s we can make this thing official.”

“Spare no expense, huh?” You grinned, and he pulled you in closer. Both of your hips knocking together.

“Hey… Only the best and finest gems and refreshments for Empress Droog the First of Hawkins, Indiana.” Eddie said with a confident smile.

You smiled at him, nudging one another with your bodies all the way into the gas station, until he pulled you in for another sloppy kiss in the middle of the snack aisle.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fandom #joseph quinn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfic #fluff #friends to lovers #Spotify

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jayybugg · 14 days ago

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always been you

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader based on Always Been You by Chris Grey

Summary: Breaking things off should be easy.....right?

Warnings: Smut, Language, maybe a little angsty?? Not really sure. Mattheo is a little mean, but not to you.

Word Count: 3.2K

Music:

Note: I love writing fics based on songs. Probably one of my favorite things to do, I actually wrote this in June, right before my birthday, but my computer crashed, and that file got lost. I prefer this version of it better, though, so I think it was the better. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, enjoy!

Banner by @cafekitsune

You crossed my mind, a few miles ago, turned on your street, thinking I’m headed home

Mattheo chucked the butt of his cigarette to the ground as he walked through the empty corridors of the castle. Unaware of his location, he turned the corner to be met with steep stairs that he knew led to your common house door.

He narrowed his eyes at the dark path in front of him. His feet and heart were begging and urging him to continue. To get to your door, to see you, to touch you, to hear your voice. If Mattheo could smack himself, he would. He was supposed to be going to his dorm to meet some blonde chick he flirted with at a party weeks ago. A distraction, he was supposed to be going to see his distraction.

Yet, here he was, unconsciously going to you like some lost puppy who couldn’t bear to be without his owner. Mattheo continued to glare at the path before scoffing and turning away to make his way to his dorm. Ignoring the pang in his heart, he slipped another cigarette out of the pack and lit it.

How pathetic…. all this over a stupid girl.

It’s late in the night, I hope you’re alone, and nobody is there holding you close, and I tried to love again, now I’m right back at your door

He couldn’t help it. You were plaguing his mind like some disease.

Even as he gripped the hips and thrust into the blonde from behind, his mind still wandered to you. He thought about what you could be doing at this moment. Were you up reading those stupid romance books that you liked so much? Or were you watching some scripted reality show that you always gossiped about with Pansy? Or maybe you were cuddled up with some fucker like some lame-ass couple?

Or worse, instead of being laid up, what if you were in the same position as this blonde? Were you with some other guy? Letting him fuck you? Letting him get a taste of what belonged to Mattheo?

It was the small yelp of pain from the blonde that brought Mattheo back to reality. His grip was brutal on the small girl’s hips, a bruise already forming in its wake. Mattheo loosened his grip, but his pace increased, fast and rough as if he was trying fuck his anger out on the poor girl who had no idea what was going on in his mind.

“M-Matty-” The blonde moaned out. If Mattheo wasn’t thinking about you, then he was definitely thinking about you now at the use of your nickname for him. He muttered, “Don’t call me that.” Another sharp thrust making her moan, caused him to speak again, “And shut the fuck up. Your moans are annoying.”

That’s how Mattheo’s days carried on. Forcing himself not to go to you at all hours of the day and fucking anybody to get you out of his mind.

Was it working?

Not really, but Mattheo was beyond the point of actually giving a fuck. He needed to let you go; he had to let you go. Especially because he was the one who ended the friends-with-benefits arrangement, despite knowing all that, Mattheo didn’t stop watching you. His eyes were on you whenever he had the chance to. Drinking in your figure, your face, your everything.

“Merlin, you look like the biggest creep around. Stop staring at her like you want to eat her alive.” Theo’s voice broke Mattheo’s trance. His dark brown eyes met his friend’s deep blue ones as he took a seat next to him and lit a cigarette.

“I don’t want to eat her alive.” Yes, he does. Anything to have you remotely close to him. “And I don’t look like a creep, and I wasn’t even staring at her.” Mattheo scoffed, folding his arms as he leaned against one of the pillars in the Clocktower Courtyard.

“Yeah, right.” Theo snorted, blowing his smoke, “Why’d you even break it off with her? Thought shit was going well for you both?”

“Too attached,” Mattheo said curtly. Luckily for Mattheo, he didn’t specify which one of them was getting too attached because, truth be told, it wasn’t you that got attached, it was him.

Theo didn’t speak again, giving Mattheo a small noise of acknowledgment. Mattheo’s eyes focused back on you as you laughed with your friends. A small frown tethered on his lips as he watched you. Why the fuck were you so happy? Why aren’t you drowning in misery like he is?

You seemed so unbothered by the fact that Mattheo had broken things off with you. Almost as if you never cared, and it made Mattheo’s blood boil because all he could think about was you.

That’s why he came to your dorm. He needed to know how you forgot about him so quickly. He needed you to teach him. He knocked on your door loud enough that if you were in your dorm, then you heard him.

The door flung open to reveal you to Mattheo. His eyes didn’t hesitate to trail down your body before meeting your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” Mattheo asked gruffly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, obviously trying to understand the boy’s audacity. “What are you doing here, Mattheo?”

For the first time in his life, Mattheo didn’t have an answer.

I know in the end, it’s always been you, you, oh, I got everything to lose, you, it’s always been you

Your eyes stayed trained on Mattheo; he felt like his heart would be ripped out of his chest if he stood in front of you any longer. Without any words, Mattheo turned on his heels and walked away from your door. He felt your eyes follow him until he was out of your sight.

He didn’t understand why he couldn’t answer you. When did it become so difficult to get what he wanted? What did he even want?

You.

He wanted you. Deep down, he knew that. His friends knew it, your friends knew it, and the whole school probably knew it. The only person who probably didn’t know it was you because, in your eyes, Mattheo was the emotionless prick who couldn’t settle down to save his life.

Mattheo wasn’t used to having nice things. Everything came at a price for him. He couldn’t, and maybe wouldn’t, wrap his head around the idea that you want him for nothing in exchange for his love. He could never bring himself to care about anyone outside of his friends, but you somehow crawled your pretty ass into his heart and plagued him every moment he wasn’t with you.

You’re just fucking attached, Mattheo, it’s pathetic.

The voice in his head sounded eerily like his father. He hated it; he hated it more than he hated how infectious you were to him. He reached into his pocket once he reached the courtyard, the cold air of night pinching his face as he pulled out a cigarette. He lit it, inhaling, then exhaling in a shaky breath.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He has never been so torn up about a girl like this before. He knew he wanted you, but what about you did he want?

Did he want your corny jokes? The ones you would tell him every morning, the ones that never failed to gain a snort from him.

Or maybe he wanted your pretty smile? That same pretty smile that he envisioned every time he closed his eyes. The same smile that made his heart flutter weirdly whenever he saw it. The same smile that made him jealous whenever he saw it directed at anyone other than him.

Or was it your voice? Merlin, your voice. So soft and sultry. Always said his name so sweetly, even when you were annoyed at him for some reason. Your voice that lets out the prettiest moans for him when he had you on your back with your legs prompted on his shoulders.

Mattheo groaned, rubbing his temples from the pending headache that always came when he thought too hard about you, which was all the time. He threw his cigarette down, crushing the lit cherry of it under his boot. He made his way to the Slytherin dorms, looking for his next distraction.

Staring eye to eye, I can’t look away, spent so much time apart, still nothing’s changed

Mattheo was once again staring into your eyes. He was drowning in them as you plopped into the seat across from him in the Transfiguration classroom. His eyes followed every moment of yours, from your hands that opened your notebook to your plump lips that moved as you spoke.

You were speaking. You were speaking to him.

He blinked as he registered your voice, the sound making his heart jump and his cock twitch. A weird combination, but a combination that made sense for him. You frowned at him, your eyes unamused by the lack of attention that you were receiving from the curly, brown-headed boy. “Are you even listening to me, Riddle?” You crossed your arms, your eyes narrowed accusingly.

Merlin, her eyes were so fucking pretty. “Since when do you call me ‘Riddle’?” Mattheo licked his lips as he finally spoke. You scoffed, slamming your hands down on the table. “Is that all you can respond to? If you can’t focus or won’t focus, I’ll tell McGonagall to switch us for the project.”

“No!” Mattheo rushed out, “I can focus. I promise.”

That was a fucking lie.

Mattheo couldn’t focus at all. Not when he sat in your dorm for the first time since he ended things with you. It was overwhelming, from your scent to the closeness of you two on your bed. The only thing running through Mattheo’s mind was pushing you back on the bed and diving his head between your legs to taste you.

He was trying, Merlin, he was, but he just couldn’t. Not when you were in front of him in spandex shorts that made your ass look so good and a tank top that revealed that you had no bra on. Were you trying to torture him? Some sort of sick punishment for how he went about ending things?

He exhaled loudly, causing your eyes to snap up to him in a slight look of annoyance. “If you don’t want to do this, then you can leave. Nobody is forcing you to be here.” You said.

Is that what you thought he was thinking about right now? Leaving you? As if.

“Nobody is annoyed, doll.” He said, “Trust me.”

He met your eyes, the room suddenly intensifying around them. Your eyes darted across his face as if you were trying to pick out the lie in his features. “Right.” You muttered.

A silence took over the room as you both continued to stare at each other. Mattheo’s heart was beating out of his chest. He just wanted to lean over and kiss you. He wanted to hear you whisper his name in his ear. He wanted you.

Fuck it.

I find nirvana inside of your love, baby girl, nobody was enough, oh, I tried to love again but a part of me was yours

Mattheo’s lips crashed against yours, expecting you to immediately push him away, but much to his surprise, you kissed him back. He moaned at the simple feeling of your lips against his. The murkiness in his mind had cleared, with you being the only thing on his mind.

He pushed you back on the bed, lips still attached as he felt his body and heart become whole again. He had been suffering for months when all he needed to do was kiss you. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck as his hands slipped under your tank top to cup your breasts.

“Mattheo.” You whispered. A groan involuntarily fell from Mattheo’s mouth when he heard it as he continued to kiss down your collarbone, his fingers massaging your hardened nipples. “Mattheo.” You whispered again, “We shouldn’t-”

“No.” Mattheo breathed out against your shoulder. His curls hid his dark eyes from you as his fingers pinched your nipples. A small yelp filled the air as Mattheo planted a kiss on your shoulder. “I don’t care if you kick me out right after or punch me for whatever reason. I don’t care. I want this; I need this.” He whispered.

He sat up, his eyes meeting yours once again. There was nothing but lust, honesty, and vulnerability swirling in them. You blinked up at him before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

Mattheo didn’t waste any more time. Mainly because he was so desperate but also because he was scared if he waited a second longer, you would change your mind. He lifted your shirt up, pulling it over your head, and throwing it to some unknown part of your room. His lips latched onto your left nipple, his hands traveling past the waistband of your shorts. He whined, he fucking whined, when he felt that you had no underwear on. “You’re fucking torturing me, doll.” He mumbled, moving to give your right nipple the same amount of attention.

“I didn’t...I didn’t do anything.” You whimpered, a soft gasp following as two of his fingers slid into you with ease. Mattheo came back up, his eyes meeting yours, his lips only inches from yours as his fingers plunged deeper into you with each thrust. Your moans were hitting his lips like a hit of ecstasy. “That’s the fucking problem.” He mumbled.

His fingers curled inside of you, your back arching, and a loud whine from you as a result. “You have been torturing me for these past few months, and you don’t even know.” He mumbled, “It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“M-Mattheo...”

“Stop calling me that.” Mattheo demanded, pulling his fingers out of you and your shorts. He ignored your whine as he yanked your shorts down, throwing them in the same direction as your tank top.

He scooted down, pushing your thighs apart to further reveal your leaking pussy to him. Another moan fell from him as he ran a finger down your folds, gathering some of your wetness up. He lifted his finger to his mouth, sucking it lightly. Your eyes were trained on him as you let out a sound that Mattheo couldn’t quite identify. “Mattheo is your name.” You finally gathered enough brain power to respond.

“Not to you. You know what I want you to call me.” He mumbled. Mattheo leaned in, running his tongue down your folds. You let out a loud moan, your hands flying to his hair. “Y-You said you hated the nickname ‘Matty’.” You whispered, your eyes fluttering close.

“I want to hear it.” Mattheo said, blowing on your clit, causing a shiver to run down your body. He licked down your folds again, this time faster, as he looked up at you. “Open your eyes, doll. Open your eyes and say my name.” He whispered, swirling his tongue around your clit before sucking on it lightly.

Your moans were uncontrollable at this point, and you had no choice but to obey his wish. “Matty.” You breathed out, “Fuck, Matty...”

A smile graced his face as he pulled away, pushing his two fingers back into you. “That’s my good slut. Always did know how to follow directions.” He whispered. His lips reattached to your clit, sucking lightly and swirling his tongue around it.

Your moans filled the room as your fingers tightly gripped his hair. He wasn’t going to stop until he ripped an orgasm from you. He would die if he didn’t get you to cum on his tongue. “I know you’re close, doll. Don’t hold out on me, please. Cum on my tongue, I need it.”

You whined as you held his head closer to your clit, your orgasm leaking onto his tongue. He licked it up eagerly, pleased to clean up the pretty mess that he had made. When he sat up, he yanked his shirt off, following his sweatpants and boxers. He watched as your eyes seemed glued to cock, hard and already desperately leaking with pre-cum. Mattheo climbed back on top of you, holding the shaft of his cock as he ran it up and down your folds.

“You’re soaked.” He whispered against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours, “Did you miss me?”

You took a deep breath. “What does it matter? You...You wouldn’t care regardless.”

You thought he didn’t care? If he wasn’t in the middle of sinking his cock inside of you, he probably would have given you a serious response. Instead, all that tumbled out his mouth was, “Just answer me.”

He pushed his cock into you, a groan escaping his lips. “I missed you.” He whispered, “If that makes any difference in your answer.”

He moved his hips slowly, hitting deep inside of you. The act of it all was sensual, intimate. As if Mattheo was trying to make this moment last as long as possible. Your soft moans brushed against his lips, causing his heartbeat to race. “You should miss me.” You whispered, “You’re the one who ended things.”

He was. Merlin, he was the idiot who ended things. “I know.” He whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Mattheo gave her a deep thrust, getting a moan in return. He kissed her jaw, his hips moving a bit faster but keeping a deep pace. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” He repeated in your ear. “I’ve missed your pretty self, doll. So fucking much.”

Mattheo didn’t know what was taking over him. The feeling of being inside you again, or if the intimacy of it all was making his true feelings spill out.

“Matty.” You whispered. His hips moved with more urgency as if he was trying to fuck his remorse into you. “I mean it, doll.” He whispered, “I’m fucking sorry and I’ve fucking missed you.”

You tightened around him, making his moan in your ear. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just....fuck, doll.” Mattheo mumbled, his words spilling out quickly. He was so drunk, on you, on your love, on your pussy. His thrusts were getting sloppy, and you were clenching around more and more. “Cum with me, doll. Please. I fucking need it.” Mattheo pleaded.

You met his eyes, nodding. “I am, Matty... I am.” You said.

Your moans mixed with his groans as you both came together. His seed filled you as your juices coated his cock and soaked the sheets underneath. Mattheo pressed his lips to yours, passionately and desperately.

I know in the end, it’s always been you, you, oh, I got everything to lose, you, it always, been you

It all made sense to Mattheo now.

With your head lying on his chest as your light snores filled your room, Mattheo’s mind was clearer than it had been in the past few months. He was attached. That was the only answer.

He wasn’t just attached to you. He was obsessed and in love with you.

Mattheo couldn’t hide it or deny it to himself anymore, and he honestly didn’t want to. There was no point in doing that. The only person he had to convince was you.

It had always been you. Always.

#slytherin boys #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle smut #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #jayybugg fics #Spotify

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issdisgrace · 3 months ago

Note

Could I request some Bruce Wayne tiddie fucking. Reader touching them while hes trying to work which leads to more👀 just anything with his tits I have a slight obsession with them

Its not much of a request sorry I'm not good at explaining ideas🙏

TITJOB WITH BRUCE

WARNINGS: Compression shirt, tit fucking

A/N: This is not the greatest but I still hope you like this. Also I was tired as shit as I wrote this so that contributes to it not being the greatest in my opinion

You were getting impatient. Bruce had been working for hours in nothing but grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt.

The compression shirt hugged his tits just right and god I couldn’t get the image of them out of my head. They were taunting me at this point and now all I wanted to do was fuck his huge tits.

Finally fed up with the image of his tits taunting my mind I made my way to his office. Pushing open the door Bruce looks up from what he was doing.

“Yes, Y/n.”

“I want to fuck your tits.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“It’s coming from the fact you put that stupid fucking shirt on this morning causing me to only think about how big and squishy your tits are. Now are you going to let me fuck them or not.”

“Sigh, I guess I could use a break.” Bruce says getting up from his chair.

“Yes, yes you could.”

After that you soon find yourself in Bruce’s chair. Him on his knees in front of you fishing you out of your pants.

You hiss as the cold air hits your member. Bruce shush’s you before taking off his shirt.

He shuffles forward a little more until my cock is settled in between his tits. He pushes his tits togeather enveloping my cock in his warm squishy flesh.

He slowly moves up and down and I sigh contentedly at the feeling. Bruce continues his slow pace, it causing my orgasm to slow but surly builds.

After what seems like an a hour which was more like 5 minutes. Bruce speeds up his pace, my dick sliding in and out from between his tits faster than before.

They look so pretty covered with my pre. The hot sight pushing me a little closer to the edge. I can’t help but whine and beg for Bruce.

I want so badly to finish all over his tits. Taking mercy Bruce speeds up his pace once again. Bouncing up and down jerking my cock of with his tits.

I buck up into him and he complains a little to slow down. I do as asked a slow my bucking.

The mixture and degration that was falling from his mouth the whole time was the final thing to push the edge. Then Bruce leans down and kisses the tip on my cock.

That simple action enough to push me over that edge and soon I’m cumming all over his chest.

Bruce pulls back after I finish and I whine at the loss of warmth.

“Don’t whine or else you won’t be fucking these tits anytime soon.”

“Ok, sir:”

“Good now how about you go get the bedroom ready for some more fun. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Ok.” I say standing up putting myself away before giving him a quick kiss. Then making my way to our room to get ready for some more rounds.

#bruce wayne #dc #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader

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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

Text

wait for hours

Summary: Bucky and you have a small fight about making him attend a business dinner on your one-year anniversary.

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x secretary!reader

Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), org@sm denial/edging, teasing, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1.9K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I wrote this blurb based on @marvelouslizzie’s prompt: “You want me to put it in you, don't you?”

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You know he is mad. You could sense it right away at work and also in the car. But you don’t regret it, it had to be done.

“Why did you even bring me here if you aren’t gonna talk, James?”

Your head is spinning only from the way he’s pacing around.

He puffs. “You wanna talk now?”

“You are such a kid,” you say, sighing.

“I am the kid?”

You’re surprised by how high his tone is.

“Why are you so bothered? I did what I needed to help you.”

“I don’t care! You knew tonight is off limits. It was supposed to be about us!”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down a little. You don’t want to fight. You never do when you disagree, and this is silly.

“We can do it another time. We both know how important this is, so why are you so mad?”

“Because this is our one-year anniversary and we always…”

You sigh, standing up. “He wouldn’t have waited, and I don’t care if you think: then his loss. This is your company! You need this investment.”

“You made this decision for me!”

“Good,” you snap. “Someone had to, I wasn’t going to let you waste a great opportunity just cause you are not in the mood for another business dinner.”

He steps toward you so fast you don’t even realize for a second. “Yeah, sorry I am not in the mood for a business dinner when I could be buried inside my girlfriend in our private jet as we fly to Europe.”

“Who said I wanted to go in the first place?” You look him in the eye, challenging him to answer you. You’re not gonna let him intimidate you. Not that he wanted that.

“Then I could have made you come on my tongue after dinner right here.”

You roll your eyes. “All you can think about is sex.”

“All I can think about is you, but you decided to-”

“To do the right thing.” You interrupt him immediately. He’s so stubborn sometimes!

Bucky sighs, bringing his hands to your cheeks. “Are you bored with me?”

What. The. Fuck.

“Are you drunk?” You ask despite knowing it’d be impossible. But how can he ask that?

“Are you bored of me, honey? Is this why you keep me a secret?”

“Bucky!”

“I wanted to make it official like what? A thousand times?”

You sigh, bringing your hands on top of his before leaving a kiss on one of his palms.

“I am not bored of you, Jamie. But work is work. He knows-”

“I want everyone to know!”

You understand, but at the same time there are more consequences to consider before making the decision to get public. “Know what? That you’re fucking me?”

Now this is a thing you regret saying. The expression he has on his face breaks your heart.

“That’s all you think this is?”

Oh, you fucked up! This is not what it is, and you know it. You both had been trying to fight it off, to ignore the tension for over a year. Until you just couldn’t anymore and gave in.

It was clearly more than sex from the start. He didn’t even try to seduce you, and you were only going out on dates for weeks. And if he wanted sex, why he’d make such an effort when you’re sure he can get a girlfriend or a one-night stand or even escort services. He didn’t try to buy you. But would the office understand?

“No, James.” You kiss his other palm, trying to show him how you actually feel. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“When would it be, then? Or would it ever be a good idea?”

He’s more than upset now, his chin is trembling and the way he keeps staring at you makes you want to cry.

Such a horrible situation…

“When I’ll change my job,” you murmur, stroking his cheeks. “This way, they wouldn’t call either of us names and your reputation would-”

“I don’t care about it, okay? About what they’d say about me, and I certainly wouldn’t let them talk shit about you. What you did for the company is amazing.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “I am your secretary, Bucky. My job is to please you and do the best to assure the company’s success.”

“Fucking bullshit!”

“Hey, it’s true. You know very well how people would talk about both of us, and rumors would spread, and sure, men would pat you on the back at first, but some might hate the scandal. And I would be treated like a...” You don’t want to finish your sentence; well aware he knows what you mean. “You cannot protect me from this no matter what you do. And you cannot ruin your company! Do you want to do this just for public claim?”

“I want to hold your hand so badly everywhere...” He sighs, moving his hands from your face to his own hair, pulling it a bit too harshly. “I want to be able to leave with you home and not make Sam wait for you on the parallel street.”

You know and you feel the same way. Sometimes you find yourself imagining how things would be if you gave in and just not care about it, but there’s about so much more than you. You know how important his partnerships are, how hard he actually worked. He might not be a billionaire, but he is very rich and affords many things. He pays everyone well, including you, as wrong as it might sound.

“I’m gonna think about it, okay? I love you so much!” You take a step closer, getting on your tiptoes so you can kiss him a little. “I am sorry for making you feel like this, you’re not my dirty secret. But I don’t regret saying yes to this meeting. You weren’t going to agree, and we both know this is really important. We can celebrate later or tomorrow night. We can go anywhere you want. Just know I love you.”

Bucky says nothing for a while, his face emotionless as he thinks about what you said.

“I love you, too. Now I want you to get your clothes off and get on the bed.”

You raise your eyebrows at the change in his attitude. What the fuck!

“What?”

“Don’t act as if you don’t want it. You were teasing me all morning. And during the breaks!”

You cannot even deny it because it’s true. Yesterday you were both too tired to even eat when you got home, let alone have sex, and you woke up really horny.

“Don’t you need to get ready?”

He smirks in that way that you hate so much, and you sigh.

“You got one minute, baby.”

You quickly take off your shirt and pants before unclasping the bra and placing it on the nearest bedside table. You let on your panties, eager to see him tear them off as you sit on the edge of the bed.

But he, surprisingly, doesn’t do that after he drops on his knees in front of you and spreading your legs.

You get on your elbows just to watch him. He smiles cheekily, happy with the extra attention you give him, as he hooks his finger around your underwear and moves it to the side, holding it there as he starts to lick your slit.

“Yesss!” You throw your head back, knowing how much you’re going to enjoy this.

He’s a little too slow compared to the usual, but it still feels good, especially when he brings his tongue to your entrance.

You manage to hold back for a while, not letting your hips move until you realize he doesn’t intend to change the pace. With your fingers through his hair and another hand grabbing the sheets, you try to get his tongue inside you faster. But he doesn’t want that either, so you pull his hair a bit harder out of frustration.

“If you want it slow, at least use that tongue on my clit.”

He snorts, amused and does what you told him without protesting. But instead of feeling better because he’s licking your clit, it’s even worse.

You both know that you hate when he’s doing it slowly, so that’s annoying you even more. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose.

You try to tilt your hips more, showing him he needs to hurry up, but he places his right hand on your tummy and pushes your back to the bed again.

“Come on, Bucky! What is this?”

He smiles against your clit and suddenly starts to lick faster. And faster. And faster.

“Yess, yess.”

You pictured him like this before you got together. You imagined countless of scenarios with him eating you out on his desk or on the couch in his office, in the car or in the meeting room. You did that so often it became a habit, but you didn’t expect it to be that good. And he’s somehow getting better every time. Even when he’s torturing you.

When he starts sucking on your clit, though? You feel on fire. You let out the loudest moan before grabbing his hair.

“Yes, sooo c-close. Gimmie a finger, Jamie.” His eyes are on you as you speak. “Please!”

He stops sucking just to breathe on your clit, making you shiver. “Now why would I do that?”

You open your eyes confused.

Does he mean he wants to fuck you?

You’d love that, truth be told, so you push him away a little and get on your ass on the bed. You immediately move your hands down, trying to find his bulge over his pants.

Yeah, you totally missed that.

“I guess foreplay is done. You can fuck me now.”

Bucky laughs. He laughs! Then he brings his hand to cover yours and helps you get a better feel of his cock. Fuck, he’s so hard!

“You want me to put it in you, don’t you?”

“I’m still close.” You whine, surprised by your own body reaction. “Just get inside me, okay?”

“Why would I do that, honey?”

You give him the most confused look ever. “W-what?”

“You’re not gonna come tonight. Or well, until I get back from my meeting. Not on my fingers, not on my mouth, and definitely not on my cock. “

The world is spinning around you. He’s not serious is he.

“Aww, what’s wrong? Who’s the one thinking only about sex now?”

“You’re joking, right?”

He cannot do this. He can’t...

“I should get ready for the meeting.” He tries to get up, but you grab his hand.

“Are you punishing me for doing the right thing for the company?”

He senses you are close to tears so he leans in to kiss your forehead. “No, baby, why would I punish you for that?”

“I don’t know...”

“Maybe this is for thinking our anniversary is not important for me” He cups your face. “But I promise tonight will be great.”

You can’t even say anything, squeezing your legs together, still turned on.

“No touching either. You don’t get to come until I come back, okay?”

You sigh, pouting. “I’ll try, daddy.”

Bucky bites his lip before he kisses you properly. “You won’t try, you will do it for daddy, okay?”

You nod, staring at his chest. “Can I help you clean?”

“As much as I’d love that, if we go in the shower together, I don’t think I’ll leave.”

Damn it... now you have to wait for hours.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #rich!bucky barnes #rich!bucky #millionaire!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #my stories #my fanfics #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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rovsemyri · 11 months ago

Text

I smoked away my brain..(plug!k.choso) ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚

❄️UP ON MY GUMS , (I THINK THEY GOIN NUMB!)

now playing: demons- a$ap rocky

cw: plug!choso / drug dealer!choso, soft dom!choso, fem!reader, dubcon (kinda; sex under the influence), car sex, praising, riding, pussydrunk chosooo!, plot(kinda?), unprotected sex, creampie ₊˚ෆ₊

synopsis: it’s a friday night after work, you finally have the weekend off! stressed, you decide to call your plug, choso. you met him through one of your closest co-workers, yuiji after finding out he had a brother, since then, I guess you can say that you became choso's favorite customer — ★ (intended lowercase)

levy's note⭒⊹ ࣪ ˖: not my best work (i wrote this while i was high) :( but the show must go on. i had the idea to add visual links but i didn't know if people would be cool wit that, so lmk! tyy :) *there may be spelling errors,etc*

╰⟢ it was a late friday night and you didn’t have work tomorrow, so what did u do? called choso, your plug of course. though he was your drug dealer, you knew him a little bit more than his other customers, might even say, you got special treatment. choso was always laid back, he hated people in his business so not many people knew much about him, you wouldn’t have met him if it weren't for yuiji.

when he arrived, you stood outside the car door , just talking for a moment before he asked if you wanted to chill for a bit, suggesting you smoke a few blunts and talk…as you know, he always enjoyed your company.

“so how you been, ma?” he asks, passing you the blunt as he fights a grin asking you the question. taking it from his hand, you take a pull before answering, “ tired, work has been stressing me out lately, but i’m doing okay” you flash him a small smile before taking another pull from the blunt. “you've been staying after hours, right?” he laughed a little, you could tell he was already buzzed. “you stalking me?” you ask, keeping up the light mood. passing the blunt back to him, your body began to feel heavy.

“nahh, yuiji told me. the boy never shuts up about you, he’s worried bout you”, he says nonchalantly, taking another hit from the blunt. “you gotta take it easy for realll” his words slowing down a little. you could feel your head start to spin as the car became filled with more and more smoke, making your brain blank a little. “i’m doing fine though! just make sure you tell him to not worry when you get back” you laugh a little at the fact that yuiji worried about you and told his brother. choso takes a few pulls before outing the blunt. “you ain’t fine, you just said you was stressed” his words slur a little, the bud getting to his head. “ know i had smoke with you real quick, mama” he says with a grin on his face, pulling out another pre-rolled blunt, passing it to you with his lighter.

“being generous tonight, cho?” you smile at him, lighting the next blunt. “ you said you were stressed…you know i gotchu.” he says looking at you with a soft expression, making eye contact you try to avert your eyes. though choso was your friend’s brother you couldn’t help but admit he was so fucking hot. he was the quiet type, never spoke too much about himself or his life, he was a chill type of guy. that's what made you take interest in him, he was a mystery, really.

you continue to spend the night just talking, getting things off your mind. choso was always a good listener and it seemed like he loved to listen to you talk. you could sometimes feel the way his eyes are glued to your lips as you're talking…or when he thinks you're not looking, you could feel the way his low eyes trace your figure as you tell him about what's going on. your mind gets more and more intoxicated as the rotation continues several times, somehow he’s still going, waiting for you to tap out or break the box.

it's getting later as you both continue to talk, rotation going back forth as well, reminiscing about the past you both giggle and laugh. the euphoric feeling takes over your body, you haven’t felt this high in a really long time, you almost feel yourself twitching. choso lets out a soft laugh before passing the blunt back to you, his eyes low and red. “hmmph, cho, you’re not tapping out yet?” you pout giving him a playful hit on his arm before taking the blunt from his slender fingers. “think you could out smoke me, baby?” his tone lowers, a grin plastered on his face, laying back in his seat he watches as you look surprised at the name he called you.

“of course i can!” you reply quickly with a smile on your face. “what you suggestin’ , girl? we try?” he says, his words slow and slurred, looking up at you making eye contact with you.

you tried to avoid his eyes as you took another hit from the blunt, you couldn’t help but think about how hot he looked when he was high, you thought maybe shit was just getting to your head.

“why you keep lookin’ away from me, ma?” he couldn’t help but laugh a little, clearly intoxicated. he passes you another blunt again with his lighter, willing to give into your little game. you kill off the blunt before looking at him, taking the next blunt from him to light , he couldn't help but smile. you could tell choso was on a different planet at the moment but you both felt the tension. “ you're gonna regret this, baby. you can’t out-smoke me” his tone was lower than before. you laugh, exhaling before passing it back to him.” you said you were being generous tonight, right cho?” you tease him, thinking that he’ll tap out sooner or later. the rotation continued.

and somehow, you find yourself in the backseat of choso’s car, the two front seats pushed back, making enough space for you to be perfectly sat on top of him. one hand on your hips, gripping them firmly. His shirt and your clothes are discarded and thrown onto the dashboard of the car and on the car floor. your chest pressed against his as he has one hand harshly holding down your hips on top of him, and the other around your neck. smashing his lips onto yours as the hand on your neck slightly tightened as it guided you to keep up with how he was moving.

his kisses become sloppier by the minute as you grant his tongue access to yours, before he pulls away, loosening the grip on your neck and allowing you to catch your breath. “this is what ya’ get, baby” he groans, his gaze focused on the way your body looked as you were on top of him, trying to catch your breath. you couldn’t help but take a minute to breathe, his hands traveling to your lower body. his two large hands on your hips, gripping them firmly, slightly pushing your clothed cunt against his tightening bulge, his jeans unbuckled & pushed down far enough to reveal the wet spot forming in his boxers..“cmonn, please help me, baby” choso whined, guiding your hips to grind against his bulge through your soaked panties. . “choso, you’re just really high right now, relax” you pat his head before looking down at him, your hands on his shoulders.

he groans, throwing his head back before pulling you closer to his chest. “fuck, i’m so impatient, girl” he whines, burying his face into your neck. one of the hands-on your hips now placed on ur neck, you almost gasp at the feeling of the slightly tight grip on your neck “cho.. take it easy on me” you choke out trying to keep yourself composed as you could feel how hard the poor boy was under you.

planting wet kisses and leaving deep shades of red and purple on your neck, you bite your tongue to hold back the small yelps that almost escape your lips each time you feel his teeth gently sink into the sensitive spots of your neck

poor thing, he couldn’t help but think about how badly he wanted to stuff your tight cunt. his head spinning and low eyes making it worse, he needed it.

“please let me fuck you, baby” he whines into your neck, he couldn’t take it anymore. he barely waits for you to nod before choso let’s out a soft growl, growing needier by the moment, one of his hands moving away from your hips. slowly moving down to your panties.

he brushes his thumb over your clit, “just the tip baby, I promise” he whines, looking up at you with his low red eyes, moving your panties to the side , “promise??” you move one of your hands down to his erection, freeing them from his boxers. “promise, doll face” he says, lining himself up with you, his hands digging into your soft hips.

you choke back a moan as the tip of his cock enters your soaking cunt. a loud whimper escapes his lips as he throws his head back. he couldn’t take it , your tight cunt was squeezing his leaking tip. he wanted to see how you’d take him sooo bad.

“fuck- i’m s-sorry ma but-“ he manages to say through his sped up breathing before roughly pushing your hips down, your cunt stretching around him as he throws his head back in pleasure. “chosoo, you p-promised” you moan loudly. “sorry baby, take it for me… please?” he almost finds himself begging.

his rough hands hold your body up, rutting his hips into you at a slow but steady pace, allowing you to get used to the feeling, kissing your cervix each time he comes back down. bouncing yourself back on him, one of his hands cup your face forcing you to look at him with your teary eyes.

he couldn’t help himself from taking in every part of you. he loved watching the way you tried to hide the way your facial expression changed each time his tip hit the right spot. admiring the pretty sounds you made for him and only him to hear. he loved knowing that he was the one relieving your stress.

““fuckkk .. you move your hips so well. keep riding me s-so fucking good.” he moans loudly before pulling you closer to him. you could swear his voice was louder than yours but he just couldn’t help it.

you feel the tears well up in your eyes as his pace begins to quicken, pounding into you, the vibrations riding along your sensitive clit making you moan louder with pleasure. “-- ngh! feels good .. s-so good,” you babble, your body getting tired, you lean on his chest for more support.

your nails digging into his back, the pain almost giving him more energy, he pounds into you harder making the sounds you were making impossible to suppress. you feel the knots in your stomach tighten.

“c-cumming—m’ gonna c-cum mmph!!” you whine,

“ cmon baby,, cum on my dick m’ almost there” he groans in your ear as you grip his shoulders tighter. you feel a euphoric wave overtake your body as he continues to chase his high, fucking you through your orgasm, leaving your legs shaking as he overstimulates your weak spot.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck!--- p-please take it, princess. m’ right there” he’s at the point of tears. your vision is blurry as you watch as he desperately fucks into you. you weakly push yourself back against him, attempting to help him.

“i’m cumming, p-please don’t stop” he whines loudly as he continued to fuck into you before feeling his dick twitch inside of you, his breathing became heavier. he buries his face into your neck, whimpering as he paints your tight gummy walls white, riding out his high.

he lifts his head, face stained with tears, he looks at you with low eyes, trying to catch his breath.

“ think ya got one more fa’ me, princess?”

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motorsportbarbie13 · 3 months ago

Text

Forbidden - Part 5

In which you can't stand to be away from Max any longer

Warnings: descriptions of a crash, swearing (maybe?) Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader Word Count: 2.5k words (tiny note from me: I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the lovely feedback and comments. It's truly reinforced my desire to publish the novel I wrote this summer so I've started working on my edits for that<3 you all are such lovely human beings.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Master List

“FP2 is about to start, ma fille.” Your mother says gently, wiping her hands on the dish towel she was holding. “Do you want to watch?”

You look up from your computer, heart squeezing a bit at the thought of watching anything racing related right now. It’s race weekend in Zandvoort, the first race weekend back after summer break and also Max’s home race. You were supposed to be there for him and your brother this weekend but instead you were at home, in Monaco, with your mother.

You hadn’t gone to Croatia with your family, much to your mother’s dismay. She had tried to talk some sense in you, despite Charles’ protests. She had been absolutely livid with her son when she found out what he had done, how he had broken up something that was making you so happy. But in the end, Charles had won and you had skipped the entire thing, opting for a few weeks spent in London with a some college friends instead.

You had been miserable the entire time.

Meanwhile, in Belgium and then Italy, Max had spent the break equally as miserable. The thought of losing you before you had even really gotten started just ripped him further in pieces. He had respected your wishes though, staying away despite every bone in his body screaming at him to show up at your door and not leave until you realized you two were the real thing. No, he couldn’t do that. If he had learned anything about you in the months that you had been together, even just in secret, it was that you were stubborn and wouldn’t budge on something that you felt strongly about. He had seen that look in your eye the afternoon he walked out of your apartment. He knew he had to be patient and wait for you to come to him, otherwise he risked losing you forever.

Seeing him on the TV earlier this morning before the first practice session of his home race had sent your heart racing. You missed him so badly. More than you had thought possible. You could tell he was just as miserable as you were just by looking at him. Dark circles cast shadows under his eyes and he looked exhausted, not well rested like the rest of the drivers coming off a four week break.

It broke your heart.

But every time you thought about going to him, something that skittered through your mind, your brother’s words echoed in your head. You weren’t strong enough. You weren’t good enough. You couldn’t handle it. Max was using you to get back at Charles. Those thoughts flew through your brain at such a speed that the idea of going to him was out of the question. You simply didn’t feel brave enough.

“You’re going to put it on even if I say no, maman.” You say with a sad smile.

“Oui, bien sur.” Yes, of course. She replies with a smile, patting you on the shoulder as she passes by to pick up the remote control, switching on her F1TV app on her TV.

Your mother knew everything that happened, having gotten both sides from both of her babies. She had tried to remain impartial but at the end of the story, she had wanted to strangle Charles. He was being a stubborn idiot, everyone knew it but no one could seem to get through to him. She had never seen you so heartsick before, noting that every time Max was shown on TV earlier during the first practice stint that you perked up a bit, paying more attention to what the commentators said when he was discussed. She knew, just like Max did, that you wouldn’t be moved on this until you were ready though, so she kept her opinions to herself, determined to support you in whatever way you needed.

Your mother really was a saint among women.

Will Buxton’s face popped up when the coverage started and you sat, pretending to work on your laptop as you waited for the cameras to show Max. You didn’t care about Charlie, not at all. You weren’t sure how you were ever going to forgive your brother after all he said that afternoon, but currently, you weren’t interested in discussing anything with him.

“Max seemed to have a good session earlier.” Your mother comments, trying to gently open the door to talk about the man you were so clearly head over heels with.

You hum in response, quietly watching the coverage. On the screen, the cars are all on the track now. Max seemed to be struggling this session though, despite the smooth start he had earlier. The back of the car kept kicking out on the corners, and the speed just wasn’t there.

“I’m fighting this thing every step of the fucking way, GP.” He growls over the radio. The sound of his voice in distress sends cold shivers down your spine.

“Okay, we’ll figure it out. Give it a few more laps to sort itself out and then come back in, yeah?”

“Sure, why the fuck not.” He snaps.

You give your mother a look, eyebrows raised. He doesn’t usually get this snippy with GP this early in the weekend unless something was really off with the car.

“Oh this isn’t going to be good.” You mumble, closing your laptop so you can focus on the TV.

“And just like that, all the progress that Red Bull made in FP1 is erased. Max seems to really be struggling out there this afternoon.” Will Buxton says as Max slides around a corner.

“Come in next lap, Max and we’ll get this figured out.” It’s Christian on the radio this time and you know it’s bad. Christian only comes on the radio when GP has had it with the driver and needs someone else to reign him in.

But Max doesn’t get the chance to get into the pits. As he dives into the next corner on the track, his back end kicks out yet again but this time Max isn’t able to save it. His front tire hits the grass on the inside of the turn, causing him to lose all grip and control over the car, sending the car careening off into the fences on the opposite side of the track. The navy Red Bull car slams into the safety barrier at such an intense speed, you hear yourself scream before you can get your emotions under control.

You and your mother are on your feet, hands cupped over your mouths as you wait, breathless, to hear that he’s okay. It’s not a messy crash, only bits of the front wing are scattered about the track, but it was the speed at which Max went into the wall that concerns you.

“Maman.” You whisper, voice cracking in panic. “Oh, maman, he has to be okay.” Panic sings through your blood, desperate to hear his voice over the radio. Heart hammering in your chest, you take several steps closer to the TV, as if getting closer to it will provide you with a better view.

Next to you, your mother puts a calming hand on your shoulder, giving you a squeeze. You both have seen nasty crashes before, it’s something that you almost expect every weekend but when they do happen, it’s still a shock to the system. You can’t bare anything happening to Max before you’ve had a chance to reconcile.

Tears spring to your eyes thinking about the last time you spoke to him, how you pushed him away when he so desperately wanted to be there for you. How he had stayed when even your own brother had abandoned you, bruised ego being more important than his own sister.

“Max, you okay?” GP’s voice rings out over the radio.

“Ye-yeah, I’m okay.” Max grunts.

A wave of relief washes over you, a welcome cool splash that calms some of your panic. You stumble back towards the couch, collapsing on the cream cushions, chest heaving as the adrenaline seeps from your body. “Oh my God.” You whimper.

“He’s okay, ma fille. He’s okay.” Your mother murmurs into your ear, sitting down next to you, wrapping you in a gentle hug.

“I need to go see him.” The words are out of your mouth before you even have a chance to consider what you’re saying.

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

Six Hours Later

Max couldn’t recall the last time he had a worse start to a weekend than this. He knew why, of course. It wasn’t the car, even though the car was absolute shit but he’s usually able to overcome a shit car and perform better than the rest of the field anyway. That’s why he’s Max Verstappen. No, the weekend started off so poorly because he had been so distracted. He’s never gotten into the car this distracted and distraught before and it cost him this afternoon during the second free practice. He had binned the car straight into the wall because the only thing he’s been able to think about for the past three weeks is you.

His entire body hurts as he gets out of the car that evening. He had tried to stay with the mechanics and engineers while they put the car that he wrecked back together. They were going to take a grid penalty for working on the car after curfew, so his weekend was fucked either way. But as the clock approached 11pm, Christian had finally pulled rank and sent him back to the hotel to get some rest.

It was simply the last place he wanted to be though. A quiet hotel room with nothing else to do but think about what had happened today and how fucked he was if he couldn’t get his shit together before Sunday? No thank you. He wanted nothing to do with that. He had considered telling the driver to take him to whatever the closest bar to the track was but he knew Horner would have an absolute conniption if he did that. So instead, he decided to behave and had let the driver take him back to the hotel.

Thankfully, there aren’t any fans waiting as the driver pulls up to the front doors of the hotel. It’s late and most everyone is already back in their hotel for the night, resting up for the last practice and qualifying tomorrow. Max is thankful for that, so he doesn’t have to see anyone. The lobby to the hotel is quiet as well, only the night concierge and front desk clerk on duty.

His steps are soft as he shuffles across the white and gold marble floor towards the elevators. To his left, there is a group of chairs and couches gathered for people to sit on while they wait and he’s surprised to see that there’s someone there, settled in a couch facing away from him. As he gets closer though, the hair that tumbles down around the woman’s shoulders sends a squeeze of pain shooting through his chest. It’s the color of your hair. Fuck, Max, get your shit together, he chides himself as he walks past the figure.

And then, time stands still for a moment. The person sitting on the couch turns and Max swears he’s completely lost his mind. He’s now conjuring up images of you out of thin air.

Or his he?

Your heart hammers in your chest when you hear the foot steps sound across the marble floor. You hadn’t really thought of anything beyond getting on the jet and getting to the Netherlands as quick as you could so when you landed, you were somewhat panicked that you didn’t have a plan. A quick call to Lando Norris of all people had solved that problem quite quickly. He had told you exactly where Max was staying but that he was still at the track so there was time to surprise him.

“Maxie.” You sob, tears pouring down your face at the look of utter confusion and bewilderment sitting on Max’s face.

“Liefje?”

You nod furiously as Max finally snaps into action, closing the distance between the two of you with just a few strides. He’s captured you up in his arms, crushing you to his body in a fierce hug, before you’re able to say anything else.

Home, your body sighs.

For the first time in weeks, you feel settled, the quiet sense of belonging etching itself deep in your bones the moment you find yourself in his arms.

“Did you really come back to me, liefje?” Max’s voice is strained, raspy with emotion. “Are you really here right now?”

You nod vigorously against his neck, burying your head there as you draw in a deep breath. He even smells like home. “I could never leave you, Maxie.” You can’t stop the tears, they just keep falling. “I saw you go into the wall earlier and the first thing that crossed my mind was ‘I never told him I loved him too.’”

Max nearly loses his grip on you he’s so beside himself. For several long seconds, Max just stands there, clutching you to his chest. He knows he should probably put you down, that your emotional reunion is causing a scene but he can’t quite convince his arms to let go. Almost as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear again if he lets you go.

Max does lower you to the ground after managing to convince himself that you are really here and you won’t disappear but he doesn’t take his hands off of you. One hand goes to your waist, the other frames your face as he stares down at you. “Ho-How did you get here so fast?”

“Maman called up the pilot that Charlie uses and he happened to be in Nice. Lando told me where you were staying and I took an Uber here. I didn’t know what room you were in though, so I had to wait.”

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” Max takes your hand, leading you towards the bank of elevators. He had one thing on his mind: he needed you alone and he needed to touch every fucking inch of you to convince himself that you were real.

“I’d wait forever for you, Maxie.” You sigh, stumbling into his arms as the elevator doors ding close.

Tag List: @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @jovialpainterunknown @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland

(leave me a comment or message if you want to be added!! <3)

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #formula 1 fanfic

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iluvmattsbeard · 8 months ago

Text

2 on (c.s)

master list

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut/smoking/swearing

preview: you’ve been stressing out about everything lately. you and your best friend Chris decided to hang out. he has an idea to help you with your stress. later on, you wake up to see videos and photos on your phone from the night before leaving you flustered.

a/n: LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED! was obsessed with this song in middle school with no idea wtf it was talking about. now, i want to feel like this song all the time 💀 i wrote this because i saw someone on here say they would want to have high sex with Chris so i took it into my own hands to write the fantasy out.

it was a Saturday night as you laid there in bed scratching your head in frustration. you were currently in college, your work has been piling up having you stressed. you stare at your computer with an irritated look as you look at the new assignments that have been added. “more?!” you groan. you shut your computer as you look at the ceiling and sigh, “how the fuck am i suppose to get through this?” you whisper to yourself. school was not your strong suit.

when you lay there in your thoughts, you hear your phone ring. you pick it up speaking, “hey Chris.” “hey Y/n. what you up to right now?” he says. you let out a sigh, “busy with assignments. these teachers are piling it on me.” you say. “oh so you’re busy right now?” he asks. you look at your closed computer as you sigh, “not really. i just had given up.” you hear him let out a soft chuckle, “well i wanted to hang out if you’re down.” he says.

“i could use a breather.” you say looking at the clock on your wall, “i could stop by for a bit. maybe i’ll make you do my work.” you say jokingly. “absolutely not Y/n.” he says making you laugh. “i was just joking. i’ll be there in a bit.” you say getting up from your bed. “alright i’ll see you.” he says before hanging up.

you throw on a jacket and some sweatpants before picking up your car keys and head over to Chris’ house. when you arrive, you get out your car and look at yourself in your car window. even if you were just hanging out, didn’t mean you couldn’t look cute. you then head over to his front door and ring the door bell. Chris opens the door immediately greeting you with a smile, “hey come in.” he says opening the door more to let you in. you walk in as he closes the door behind you.

you collapsed on the couch, laying your head back on the pillow as he sits on the couch across from you. “what’s wrong y/n?” he asks concerned, looking at you. you let out a sigh before speaking, “i don’t know if i can keep up with all the assignments. the only reason why i’m in college is because i want to make my parents proud. not because i want to in general.” his eyes stay on you, “well you need to give yourself breaks you know that right?” he says with a soft chuckle. you look up at him as you give a blank stare, “i don’t think i have time for that.” you say. he shrugs, “hey i mean you’re here now.” he says with a slight smile.

you roll your eyes before speaking, “yeah i’m here as my assignments are at home piled up. waiting for me to complete them.” he lets out a scoff with a smile, “well, you can’t just force to overwork yourself.” he says getting up. “where are you going?” you ask with curiosity. “to go get something.” he replies walking to the hallway. you sat there as you look at your hands. eventually, he comes back with a bag. “what’s that?” you say seeing him sit back down in front of him.

“something that’ll help you relax.” he says pulling out another bag that had chunks of weed in it. your eyes widen a bit staring at it, “since when do you smoke?” you ask. he smiles a bit at your question, “doesn’t matter.” he says opening the grinder that was on the table. he puts some pieces in it before shutting it and twisting it, making the pieces loose. “well i’m curious because why haven’t i noticed.” you ask with a laugh. “that scent is so strong.” he was focused on the grinder for a few minutes as he opens it, placing it on the table. you sit there as you watch him place the weed into some paper. he rolls it perfectly. you could tell he did this often. he looks at you with a smirk, “do you want me to help make the stress go away?” he asks.

you look into his eyes confused a bit. what do you mean he helps you? wouldn’t it be the weed helping? you thought. “uh i don’t know i’ve never done this before.” you say fixing your posture. “do you trust me?” he asks in a low tone. his eyes did not move from your as he plays with the joint in his hand. you gulp as you nod, “yes i trust you.” he grins as he places the joint in between his lips and lights it up. he inhales as he stands up and steps in front of you. he places a hand under your chin, lifting it to look up at him. your head was lined up with his crotch perfectly. you look up at him and stare at him. his hand held onto your jaw as his lips came inches closer from yours. you open your mouth slightly as he blows the smoke into your mouth.

he stays close to your lips as you inhale. he watches your face closely as you let out the smoke lightly. a grin appears from his mouth. you look into his eyes and at his lips. the scent that came from his mouth, caused by the weed, was intoxicating. he stands back up straight, still looking down at you before passing the joint to you. you take it as he goes and sits back down across from you, repeating the same actions again, making himself his own. you sat there taking hits as you let it cloud your mind. it really was helping everything ease. after he was done, he lights it up and starts doing the same as you. he sat there, leaned back, taking hits.

it was silent the whole time as you sat there in your now cleared mind. you felt your eyes start to get heavy. you tap your joint on the ash tray as you felt Chris’ eyes on you intensely. you look up at him as he’s leaned back with his eyes also heavy. it was extremely attractive. the way he licked his lips slightly as he kept eye contact. you felt a knot in your stomach. “is it helping?” he asks with a slight rasp in his low voice. “yeah it really is.” you say quietly. you felt yourself overheating. “are you okay?” he asks.

“y-yeah! i’m great.” you stutter out slightly. he lets out a soft laugh as he puts out his joint. you do the same before taking off your hoodie. mid way doing it, you forgot you had no shirt under. Chris stares at you with his heavy clouded eyes as his jaw clenches. “i forgot i didn’t have a shirt.” you say quietly. a sly smile appears from him as he speaks, “i don’t mind.” you look into his eyes again as you stared at him eagerly. “why don’t you come here?” he says with his arms out on each side of him, on the top of the couch, leaned back. you gulp as you stand up walking over to him. he sits up placing his hands on your hips as he pulls you down onto his lap.

he looks at your tits as they sat perfectly in your bra. he then gets closer to them as he leaves soft wet kisses on them. you felt your stomach have the same knot when he does so. “you’re so beautiful.” he lets out looking up at you as he continues kissing up from your tits to the side of your neck. your breathing started to get hitched as you shift slightly on top of him. his hands were rubbing the sides of your body as he then started to suck on your neck. your heavy eyes gave in shut as you threw your head back slightly, letting out a quiet moan. you felt him get hard beneath you.

he chuckles a bit in the crook of your neck, “you like that?” he says pulling away, looking at the marks he left on your skin. you weakly open your heavy eyes and look at him as you nod. “do you want me to help you more get rid of the stress?” you answer with no hesitation, “yes please Chris.” he smirks before carrying you, leading you into his room. he lays you on the bed as he hungrily attaches his lips back onto your chest as he trails down his kisses down to your lower stomach. he was taking his time admiring your body. he then tugs down your sweatpants, throwing them onto the floor. his kisses still trailed down your body as he starts to kiss in between your thighs. you looked down at him as you feel yourself start to get wet.

he then places a kiss on top of your clothed core as his eyes looked up at you. you bit your lip softly as you felt yourself flinch a bit from the action. he then moves his eyes back down to what he was doing as he pulls down your now soaked panties. you felt the cold air hit your aching core. he licks his lips looking at your plump cunt. he immediately shoves his face in between your legs as you gasp softly from the sudden action. “C-Chris.” you stutter out. you shut your eyes and tangled your hand in his hair. it’s like his tongue knew what to do so well.

he knew what parts would make you go crazy. he swirled his tongue on your clit as you grip onto his hair, pushing your hips up, burying his face more into you. you could feel his slight stubble on his face as he eats you out. “fuck Chris. your tongue feels so good.” you moan out. he smirks a bit as he pulls himself away. your pussy ached at the action.

you look at him with your clouded eyes as he does the same licking his lips. “sit up.” he demands. you do as he says as his eyes still admire your body. “take it off.” he says pointing at your bra. without breaking eye contact, you put your hands behind your back as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall off your chest. he grins as he takes in the sight from the slight bounce your tits made from being released. “you’re perfect.” he says taking off his shirt. you trail your eyes from his eyes, down to his body. he pulls down his sweats as he reveals a hard imprint in his boxers. you sit yourself on the edge of the bed as he gets his crotch closer to you in front of your face.

he grabs your phone as you look up at him. “i want to be able to capture this. maybe next time you’re stressed, you can look back at these.” he says looking down at you through the camera. you pull down his boxers as his dick springs up from being released. you gulp staring at the veiny cock. his tip was oozing pre cum as you licked your lips. he takes his cock into his hand, “stick your tongue out.” he demands. you do as he says as he slaps it lightly on your tongue, taking a picture. you see a slight smirk appear on his face as you suddenly push your mouth onto him. he groans at the sudden action as he watches as you sucked him off. he places his free hand on your cheek as he speaks, “you’re so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” your eyes were looking up into his as he continues to watch. you picked up the pace as you pushed him deeper down your throat. he wraps your hair around his hand as he grips it, suddenly thrusting in your mouth causing you to gag.

he takes a picture of you gagging on his dick as tears rolled down your cheeks. he moans lowly, “you take it so good.” after a bit, he eventually pulls you away from his cock as he lays you down. he automatically lines himself up in front of your entrance as he takes another photo. he then pushes into you slowly as he began to stretch you out. “oh fuck.” he lets out. he takes another picture as his cock is partially hidden inside your core. your folds hugged his length perfectly. he puts down your phone as he began to slam himself into you, spreading your legs apart. you scream from pleasure with your eyes shut.

“fuck y/n. you feel so good.” he moans with the same raspy voice. it only made you more turned on. he puts his hand down to your clit as he moved his thumb in a circular motion on it. you moan loudly, “y-yes Chris keep doing that.” “you like that huh? you aren’t thinking about anything else hm?” he says thrusting into you deeply. “n-no. only you.” you moan softly. he smirks continuously thrusting. you were kept moaning repeatedly as he hit your g spot constantly. you couldn’t take it anymore. you arch your back as you moan out, releasing all over his cock.

“that’s it baby. cum all over this dick.” he says as he grunts gripping onto your legs that were on his shoulders. you laid there as you watched him get closer to his high. he suddenly pulls out quickly as he shoots his warm liquid all over your stomach.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you start to wake up as you flutter your eyes open slowly. you let out a stretch as you looked around. you forgot you spent the night with Chris because he didn’t want you driving home. you turn your head to see him laid on his stomach shirtless snoring. you laugh quietly at him. you realized you didn’t have clothes on, your mind instantly flooded with what happened last night. you pick up your phone as you unlocked it, going to your camera roll.

the photos that Chris took popped up as your eyes widen and your cheeks turned red. you put your phone onto your chest as you looked up at the ceiling, remembering what he said, “maybe next time you’re stressed, you can look back at these.” you gulp at the moment that replayed in your head.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this! i’m really appreciating the support from a lot of you guys. it really brightens up my day!

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helenazbmrskai · 9 months ago

Text

Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke. [1/2]

Title [Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke.]

Pairing [Northen Duke! Yoongi x Reincarnated! Reader]

Genre [Fantasy Romance, Reincarnation, World in a novel AU, future smut and angst]

Summary [You need to make an elaborate plan so you can avoid your impending death at the hands of your favourite character so you can’t just sit around and wait for something to happen – no matter how distraught you wake up one day in an unfamiliar bed.]

Words [11,5k ; part 1 out of 2]

Warnings [mistreatment and negligence, period drama, slow burn, mention of blood and drugs, tiny sexual tension]

Rating [+18 overall but this part is a tame +14]

A/N: Guess who’s back again? ME. I’ve been working on this for a lot and I know I already have a similar story on going but I just couldn’t get over this idea in my head. So enjoy! And as always excuse me for the typos.

Masterlist // part 2 (end) // I don't do tag lists anymore I'm sorry!

Every story needs a good start, and this one starts now with an old tale, much older than you.

There’s an ancient fairytale that tells you about the funding of the Empire and it all starts when God left.

Tired of human foolishness and deeply rooted malice he left the world he created to turn around its axis and burn down on its own; famine started to scavenge the continent as war broke out in every corner of the human world. Each kingdom perished one by one until only one was left.

It seemed like humanity would be wiped out permanently in no time but then just when they all thought there was no turning back, a saintess appeared among the rest and divided the continent into four regions with the help of the received divine power. That’s the birth of the empire’s central city where the empress Hyeri ruled over the four divided territories.

To prevent war from breaking out again the saintess turned to the heavens and pleaded while crying out to their maker and hearing her prayers the God who left decided to give them one last chance at redemption seeing the pure heart in front of him.

That’s when the holy prophecy was made.

Each chosen duke was granted unique powers to rule over their territories. However great powers come with great responsibilities. In the end, there’s always a price to pay but that’s the tale of another story.

This is how peace finally settled over the world once more. In exchange for the powers, the dukes wrote a blood oath that prevented them from stealing each other’s powers or waging unnecessary war. However just like every pact it wasn’t perfect. Loopholes could be taken advantage of but momentarily peace was forged.

This is the short version of the founding tale of the originated Kingdom that was taught to the people of the empire throughout generations. You particularly remember these starting lines from the novel you read in your previous life. The introduction is something you often skip through but thankfully you didn’t do that with this one.

The four families who inherited great power were Kim, Jung, Min and Jeon. When you first read the story introduction you thought that it’s quite lame and generic to base the family's attributes on the four seasons. However, seeing one of the duke’s illustrations you decided to read it all.

When choosing a book to read you only pay attention to the hotties. In this case, it wasn’t any different either.

A mysterious and cold duke of the north is something that a girl cannot ignore to save her life.

Each duke possesses an artefact which comes in the form of a ring and different precious gemstones that fit into the depression are named after the four seasons using a dead language.

Nix - means snow, which makes the wearer the lord of winter. The most handsome guy throughout the entire book in your opinion. Next, Saltus - translates to forest which is the symbol of spring. Umbra is shade and Calor is heat. The last remaining ones are autumn and summer. Each duke is the epitome of beauty, and their descendants are no exception.

This is a fantasy romance novel you read before you died in a sudden hit and run accident.

The original story is about an orphan girl Hyo who is the lost daughter of the king. After she’s found – the plot starts as she meets the four archdukes at the annual imperial ball and falls in love with the lord of Spring. Kim Taehyung. A handsome man with good manners and unmatched beauty as he’s described in the book. She’s captured by one look of the male lead’s brown eyes and shiny blond curly hair. Despite their fairytale-like first meeting, their love is not exempt from hardships. Their first obstacle is the villainess Kim Y/N who falls in love with Taehyung at first sight at the same ball and sets her eyes on marrying him but in the end, she fails to murder Hyo and gets beheaded by the second male lead Min Yoongi as an imperial order.

Hyo and Taehyung then live happily ever after and the novel ‘Flowers bloom in the heart of the Lost Princess’ ends there.

You see, dying a second time is not an option even if the one you possessed is Y/N.

You need to make an elaborate plan so you can avoid your impending death by the hands of your favourite character so you can’t just sit around and wait for something to happen – no matter how distraught you wake up one day in an unfamiliar bed.

Even though there’s no chance you will fall in love with the Duke of Spring like in the original novel – things can still go wrong if you make changes in the natural flow of the story, so you need to think this through carefully. You need to think about the plot holes and that the characters you see can be different from what you read in the book as that only tells you one side of the story.

The first thing you need to change gradually is the way the servants and the Duke see you.

The first week when you reincarnated as Y/N you spent your days with a high fever bedridden, you’re not sure if the pain came from the strain of absorbing the real Y/N’s memories or if something else is behind it. Your health is very poor as your medical history suggested, but you get accustomed to the villainess' body step by step. After another week your probation ended so you were able to leave the estate freely again. There were days when sudden headaches interrupted your day and, in the morning, you often coughed up blood.

You ignored it at first because the symptoms seemed to get better with time, and you had no way of knowing if it was normal. You didn’t ask in case someone found it suspicious. The most important thing right now is that you need to focus on staying alive and avoiding your death at the end of this novel – this is what you thought without knowing anything at that time.

As the plot thickens when you least expect it.

It’s not just your weird health conditions your head hurts just from thinking about the actions of the real owner of this body.

You just can’t grasp why a beautiful woman like Y/N would do those cruel things when she has everything she could’ve asked for. She’s a rich girl born with a golden spoon in her mouth, and she gets crazy just because she can’t have a man. It feels unnatural. If someone asks you to choose between life and a man you would choose life without hesitation.

You can have another man but not another life. Er, well – in your case, you do get another one thought but that’s beside the point.

Even before that incident happened with the female lead, she had a terrible reputation among the nobles.

Well – you can’t do anything if you’re not well rested so you will just think about this a bit later. You can’t possibly pull another all-nighter to study how this novel works. You close your eyes to finally get some shut eye when some woman barges into your room without knocking forcefully parting your curtains to let the early rays of sunshine in. The sound of her voice makes you freeze. This uncomfortable feeling suddenly ripped through your body as if a pile of rocks were sitting on your chest not letting you breathe. While you gained some of Y/N’s memories there are still holes in those fragments that you’re unsure of. However, her feelings are so intense sometimes that your body reacts like clockwork.

What you feel after hearing her voice is sheer terror. Who is this woman that even a villainess like Y/N is even afraid of? You can’t open your eyes as if your body is doing it unconsciously, unmoving like a doll to protect itself. Someone is coming closer.

You feel a prick on your forearm and your eyes fly open due to the pain. Her name appears in your mind as soon as you see her face and some of Y/N’s memories flood your head regarding that nasty woman. She triggers something dark in your eyes to appear.

Your nanny, Biwon.

“Wake up. Are you planning to sleep till the afternoon?” Biwon lets out a fake troubled sigh and her eyes are full of arrogance when you meet them you freeze completely at the sight.

“I’m sorry nanny.” Your mouth moves on its own like a broken record. It feels like this is not the first time she wakes Y/N up with a prick of a needle and the apology comes to her like second nature. Y/N’s attitude shows all kinds of trauma of being abused. How is it that this was never mentioned in the novel? While not much was mentioned about how she grew up you would think this is a piece of important information to have.

“Wash your face the duke requested to have breakfast with you for some reason.” She left without giving you any kind of assistance like a maid should do. At last, the water in the basin is ice cold to the touch and murky it manages to wake you up completely from shock.

You’re not just imagining it. Biwon has complete power over Y/N even though she’s the lady of the house.

You knew that the other maids avoided Y/N because of her temperament but to think that she’s been through manipulation and abuse by someone so close to her. Because Biwon is the one who spent the most time next to Y/N ever since she was a child everyone buys her lies. No one pays attention to Y/N, not her father or her brother.

She has no one to rely on in this household.

Biwon deliberately made her isolated in her own home so she could control and exploit her. Her malicious plan is clear to you after observing the situation objectively. What else is there that was not mentioned in the novel? Things might be more complicated than you thought.

However, this is not the time to ponder over this. You need to get ready alone. It didn’t take you long to realise Biwon forbids the maids from helping you so you can embarrass yourself in front of your family. While the real Y/N would have problems with getting dressed and being presentable without help as she’s a noble – there’s one tiny fault in your nanny’s plan – that she has no idea that you’re a modern woman who can wear her own fucking dress and get ready all by herself. She has a lot of extravagant dresses, so you had a hard time choosing but then something caught your eye. This dress has been buried deep in your wardrobe, a solid light cream-coloured dress with an elegant bow in the front. This is the perfect dress.

You do light makeup to match the dress and leave your long hair down after brushing it. While you were getting dressed you saw the countless bruises on your skin and your right arm was full of holes from the needle your nanny used to stab you with to wake you up. It’s good that the dress is long-sleeved. There’s no way the maids don’t know about your abuse since they bathe you. So, your guess is they are either the nanny’s people or they just simply don’t care enough to tell the duke. It’s clear the duke doesn’t care about Y/N so it wouldn’t benefit them to tell him when they could face the wrath of your nanny if she finds out. They think he wouldn’t do anything about it, and you think so too.

You feel compassion for Y/N. She was made to be a villain even if it doesn’t excuse her actions in the end. It’s only been two weeks for you, but she had to endure this for a lifetime.

You’re determined to change her future even more now that you know the truth. You’re going to live for her as well.

Opening the door to your room you find a maid waiting for you to lead you to the dining room as per the duke’s request. She looks taken aback by your neat appearance but doesn’t say anything and just shows you the way.

She dares to walk ahead of you. Even if you want to give her a piece of your mind you hold yourself back, you can’t afford to create a ruckus and be sent back to probation. It’s not that you care about who walks in front of you it’s the meaning of this action that angers you.

You hold back by creating a fist the pain of your nails digging into your palms in half-moon shapes keeps your head clear and controls your bubbling rage. You’re going to show everyone how Y/N won’t bow down anymore. You’re not a doormat that everyone can just walk over.

You’re not going to let everyone disrespect you ever again but to achieve that you need to make a plan and be more patient.

First thing first you need to make the duke care about you to an extent so he will listen to you. Good thing that you know the novel. You might be able to use that information to get what you want. You’re not going to make him like you, you just need to be useful for him to look at you. You’re not sure he would be even capable of liking you in the first place – not that you would want that after he neglected Y/N like that. Talk about loving family, this is just another example of being blood-related sometimes does not matter.

It's not like he’s your real dad anyway.

The dining room is just as fancy as the rest of the mansion. By the time you arrive the duke and your brother are already seated and chatting. The duke is sitting at the head of the table and Seokjin is sitting on his right.

Your tableware is set away from them probably a scheme made by your nanny to keep you isolated.

She must be afraid of why the duke suddenly wanted to dine with you when he usually never bothers to see you. You can’t let this golden opportunity pass like that. You’re going to make the most of it.

“Good morning, Father, Brother. Sorry for being late.” You give them a little courtesy. You’re careful to get your posture nice and graceful like you read in the etiquette book. The nanny purposefully discouraged the young Y/N to skip classes and remain a dumb doll for her to exploit but you’re not going to let her continue to do that.

While your posture is not perfect this will at least show that you’re trying to be as polite as possible.

You stayed up all night for an entire week to study about this new world’s etiquette and history to play your part more convincingly who knew that your knowledge would come in handy in a situation like this? You’re thankful that you decided to study even before you realised the nanny’s schemes.

You school your features to remain passive as you look at the grand duke’s and your brother’s dumb expressive faces. It looks like they are seeing a ghost. Even though you’re annoyed to be bent like that you keep the position until you receive the acknowledgement like a lady should. How annoying that you must bow like that until you are recognised by a man.

“It’s alright. Sit down, Y/N.” The duke gives you a curt nod seemingly flustered that he stared at you for so long. You remind him of his late wife a lot dressed like that. To everyone’s biggest surprise, you take a seat directly on his left side facing your brother.

You remain silent in your seat knowing that the duke’s pride will take a hit if he doesn’t correct the mistake that he didn’t even notice until you sat down. Usually, they wouldn’t care if you sit far away, they would probably think that you were the one who wanted the seat away from them in the first place as a sign of defiance but they can’t deny that you’re the lady of the house so to assume you would sit far away is an arrogant mistake on the servants part.

“What are you waiting for give my daughter a set and bring the food.” Thankfully the duke is just like you expected. He looks annoyed at the servants. His authority is absolute so the maids scurry to bring you some new tableware and bring out the food. The lonely set is forgotten at the rear end of the table. This is the first time you see something so mouthwatering in a while since you were forced to eat in your room and the food, they brought you was not even close to this. Now that you think about it, it was probably some leftover from the kitchen. No wonder Y/N is this thin.

It probably wasn’t even part of her punishment so someone must be stealing the food that is made for Y/N.

It’s hard to control your expression or your body language that is burned into your body by nature. You’re feeling uncomfortable all over that you can’t enjoy the food at all. It’s sad to see how rigid you are in the presence of your supposed family members. You don’t have any appetite even though you feel like you’re starving.

“How are things with Gold Wing? Did you manage to get them to agree with our terms?”

The Gold Wing is under the jurisdiction of the House of Summer. The old man Jung Jeyhun is a greedy man who keeps delaying his son’s succession because he wants to keep his title as an archduke. He’s the hidden boss of this novel. Y/N can’t compare with an evil villain like him. There’s probably no one else who knows he’s backing that trading company. You’re an exception only because you read the novel and know everything about how he wants to be the sole ruler of the Empire. He’s behind many unfortunate events that happen in the novel that no one finds out about until it’s too late.

“No. They’re trying to sell their stones for double the price. Knowing that none of the other companies have that much supply since they bought the rights to the mines.” Your brother looks irritated as if he recalls the meeting with the head of the company vividly.

No wonder they are cocky, they have the backing of House Summer, and they cheated the other rival companies out of the right to produce this type of stone that’s particularly high priced in the first section of the book. This stone is called Stelar which is steel but it’s a novel, so they had to give it a fancy name. Swords here are mainly made from two important ingredients iron or steel, but steel has a longer durability and is easy to craft to different shapes, so they tend to use that instead of iron which is way cheaper because of this fact. The knights used swords made with Stelar but because of the high price, it was hard to come by after the Gold Wing trading company monopolized the rights.

Their goal is to weaken the other three houses’ military power by selling the stones at a high price and getting funds for their territory but it’s not the only reason. The swords they sell are not simply made of Stelar. Steel is an alloy of iron. Iron needs to be mixed with carbon to make steel. They use some steel and put more iron to degrade the quality of the sword which breaks more easily than it should. You remember learning of it in school in your previous life, but these people don’t know of it because the novel has plot holes here and there. Since the novel focuses on the main characters things that are not related to them too much have more freedom to change, and things may differ as the author cannot mention every little thing. This could be what you need to make changes.

The truth that they tempered with the swords that got imported only comes to light when Yoongi investigates the company when he almost loses the battle with the barbarians but that battle only happens when you reach nearly half of the novel. He could tell that there was a difference in quality when he saw the sword break too easily. He made an assumption just by that and the fact that the new sword became heavier due to the added mass of iron.

Even if you feel bad for taking credit for his discovery you need to use that information, he finds out later so you can survive in this household.

“May I speak up, father?” You heard enough to grasp the current situation. You need to speak up before you lose your courage.

“What can you even contribute to this conversation?” Your brother looks angry that he got interrupted. In your eyes he’s not scary he’s just a big child throwing a tantrum when things don’t go his way. You decide to calmly face him even if you have to hide your nervousness by clasping your hands together under the table for comfort. Still can’t control the original Y/N’s physical reactions.

“I don’t think I asked brother.”

The duke raises his hand to silence Jin before he can spit out angrier remarks. The moment you appeared and gracefully bowed wearing your mother’s dress the duke could tell that something about you just became different. The air around you is filled with determination.

He got reports of you acting unusually tame so he asked you to dine together and see it for himself.

Your eyes that only reflected the world around it suddenly became full of will to live.

He’s curious to hear what you have to say. Usually, you wouldn’t speak unless you were spoken to. “Do you perhaps have a good idea of how to deal with them?” He proposes fully giving you his attention.

“The problem is that we don’t have Stelar to make swords for the knights, right? I suggest we find a mine suitable to harvest the stones we need that way we don’t have to depend on the trading company.”

“Are you a fool? Do you think if we could produce it, we would continue to make this ridiculous deal work?” You’re getting tired of your brother always cutting in. You can’t get angry though. The first thing you need to change is how people see you and you can’t get angry because the people around you will call you a temperamental child even if your anger is justified. They wouldn’t care either way they just want to belittle you. You just need to not allow them to do so.

“We have a place like that in our territory that could be suitable. I can mark it on a map if you’d like.” Even though the duke might be suspicious of how you know of a place like that he will investigate either way. This deal is too good to pass up on.

In hopes of discovering a new mine, he will even accept the flimsy lie of you just discovered it by reading some book and looking at maps.

“Alright. I will instruct the knights to check it out. If what you said is true, I will reward you.” You nod your head pleased with the outcome of this uncomfortable breakfast.

In the novel the imperial prince comes across the mine in your territory when he’s running away from assassins and due to his discovery, he gets praised by the king for solving a big problem. However, if you find the mine first that puts you in a favourable position with the other houses and even the king if you give the stones at a lower price making the Gold Wing trading company lose its base customers by making better deals.

Thankfully that painful breakfast comes to an end soon as father’s aid whispers something into his ear. He leaves in a hurry which makes you think it’s about something important and work-related.

Your brother leaves without saying a word so you can finally enjoy your food alone.

Ever since you came to this place you’ve never been this full before, it puts you in a fairly good mood. You even managed to grab the duke’s attention and for once got something more filling than stale bread.

All you need to do is wait until the mine is discovered and now that one thing is out of the way you need to start with disciplining your maids and get your nanny kicked out. Biwon had a good life here up to this point because now that you’re here you will make it a living hell for her, and that’s a promise.

“What did you talk about with the duke?” You’re not surprised to find your nanny in your room when you get back. She looks anxious you can see how her nails are bitten and she slightly thumps her foot. You got back early so if you tell her some half-truths, she won’t suspect you that much.

“He didn’t talk to me at all. He only talked with my brother about work that I don’t understand. I don’t know why they keep ignoring me. You’re the only one who cares about me, nanny.” Good thing that the maids left after serving the meal, you would be in trouble if someone overheard you and you were caught lying. You bury your head in her apron to conceal your disgusted expression when she caresses your head.

You need to act like usual, so she won’t suspect a thing. If her guard is down, it will be easier for you to make your move.

You can easily produce some fake tears for the greater good.

“That’s right, only I care about you. Who else would love a useless child like you.” You bite your tongue to hold back when Biwon hugs you. You agree with her even if you want to break her arms that hugs you like a shameless person.

Biwon doesn’t use needles on you again to erase her marks since you started to dine with the duke. Thankfully she doesn’t realise what you’re planning.

The mine you talked about last time turned out to be true and the duke was very happy to get back at the Gold Wing trading company. He started to make a profit thanks to you, and he even listened to your suggestion of lowering the price to sell it to the other houses. Developing the mining ground consumes a lot of money at the moment but the profit will be greater than ever if it’s finished. You asked to have dinner with them every day as a reward which made him look surprised. He reluctantly agreed when you asked to make your contribution a secret for now you can’t let your nanny hear about it just yet. The duke probably thought he would buy you some clothes and accessories and you will be all set. Unfortunately for them, you don’t care about luxuries especially if it comes from them.

While you would prefer to not eat with them you need to show the staff that you’re indeed the lady of the house. Now they are giving you the bare minimum of respect after the maid got scolded by your father after the tableware incident.

You didn’t think Jin would come after you excused yourself from the meal. Right when you leave the dining room your brother appears halting you in your step and grabbing your hand forcefully to stop you in your tracks.

“Where are you going in a hurry so dressed up?” Your wrist throbs in his hold. That bastard how could he grab the hand of his sister so hard? Compared to him your body is so small you look like a child next to him. You’re not surprised since you were malnourished before. You’re sure it will bruise badly but you refuse to show him that he’s hurting you.

“I believe it’s none of my brother’s business where I go in my free time.” You look into his eyes with confidence. Y/N was always longing for her brother’s love but you’re not the real Y/N and you will never consider him your brother, so his attitude doesn’t bother you at all emotionally. He simply became a person you’re forced to live with and tolerate for now.

If everything is over you will cut ties with them for good.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since your probation. If this is your way of seeking attention from father or I, that will never happen no matter what you’re scheming.”

Using the moment of his surprise you get out of his hold and get farther away from him. Your smile says it all. ‘I don’t consider you a brother so go to hell’. You’re getting angry but you refuse to show him any reaction even if you can’t exactly control the fire in your eyes.

“You don’t have to be afraid of that. I don’t consider people who neglect and belittle me my family at all. I don’t need your love or attention anymore.” You show him your back confidently as you walk away from his frozen form.

“Gaon prepare some indigestion medicine for me. Is the carriage ready?” Jin catches your voice talking to your maid still frozen on the spot you left him.

Your eyes looked different. When you were young you used to beg for his affection always clinging to him but now. Why does it look like you despise him and why does it bother him?

He never felt anything for you for a very long time.

“Yes, my lady everything is like you instructed.” You nod satisfied by the way things progress.

Now there’s only one thing left to do.

You’re on your way to meet with the head of the blacks information guild. The only one who could top the Gold Wing trading company by power would be them. The blacks is one of the largest information-selling guilds – trading only to deceive people and hide the fact that they know everything that can be known throughout the empire.

They have men everywhere. The head is conveniently the second young master of house Autumn who currently stays in House Summer territory. Jeon Jungkook is clever enough to know that information is the most important thing to have the upper hand this is how he was able to survive the battle for succession.

It will be probably dangerous to meet him but you will have to take this gamble on if you want things to work out you need the backing of the most powerful guild in the empire.

Convenient that the duke doesn’t care about Y/N’s safety so you don’t need to play hide and seek with the guards you can do your business without getting interrupted. If you say you don’t need an escort, they back off immediately and let you leave.

Following the novel’s description, you look for a house with a red chimney and a black door away from the main streets. Once you find it you have to knock two then three times until someone asks, “Are you lost?” and you have to reply with “Yes can you tell me where can I find black paint?” - and you’re in.

It’s only a select few that know about this code so Jungkook will be suspicious of how a lady with a bad reputation knows about it, but you came to make a deal that he can’t refuse. You can talk around the fact of how you know about their secret entrance.

As you expected Jungkook came himself to greet you, you could recognise that brown hair and emerald eyes anywhere.

“Please have a seat. I prepared some tea.” His smile is pleasant but calculating. His intentions are clear unlike when you talk to your blood relatives, so you’re surprisingly relaxed in his presence. Jungkook is intrigued by your body language. Usually, people are distrustful of him because of his mask. Your eyes tell him that you know more than you look.

“I have a request to make. I would like to know what this liquid is and any information that you can get on it or the bottle.” Jungkook is said to like straightforward people, so you try to be confident.

Jungkook laughs seeing your confidence. You exceed his expectations he heard that you’re stupid and extravagant with a bad temper, but it seems like his information is outdated. That needs to change he smirks.

He gives you credit for realising he wields information. Usually, people come to his guild to do business. Not many know that the purpose of the blacks is different.

“How much will you pay me for the information?”

“I heard I can pay with information for information. I have something important to tell you anyway.”

“Oh.” People rarely have any information that he doesn’t already know but you look so confident that he has to humour you. “Please enlighten me.” Taking a relaxed laid-back pose he awaits your answer.

“The head of the Gold Wing trading company is the current Duke of House Summer and he has a spy in your guild.” The only reason the blacks are not at the top is because of the upper hand they gain from the spy. No one would suspect that Jungkook’s right-hand man is a spy. He causes the guild’s destruction near the end of the novel. Heartbroken from the betrayal Jungkook is stabbed by him in the end.

Jungkook grips the side of the sofa after hearing your daring words until the wood slightly splits. He doesn’t usually trust people so to think that someone betrayed him feels impossible.

“I’m not saying that without evidence. There’s a tree in the back looking directly at the alleyway if you dig the dirt near the roots, you will find a letter with a coded message it was placed there this afternoon so you have to look for it before sunrise. I swear on my life that if I lie to you, you have the right to kill me.” The only way he will believe you is if you match the sacrifice for your accusation. Your life is on the line, but you know you’re right.

Or that you hope it’s the same as in the novel.

Jungkook instructs one of his men to look for the tree. He visibly pales when he sees the man come back with a dirty envelope. He reads the letter with a face of indifference, but you know he is furious deep inside and somewhat sad. Trust is not easily given away by him.

“Who— ” Jungkook closes his eyes to compose himself. “Who is the spy?” He appears distraught which is normal considering the fact you just dumped on him suddenly.

You hesitate for a moment. You know this information will hurt him, but he is entitled to the truth – and you do this to save his life in the end. “It’s Sam.”

You can tell it hit him hard but you don’t think he doesn’t believe you. He might get angry and it’s really not your place to intervene. However, you know this feeling very well. Being betrayed by someone you trusted. If nothing else you can sympathise with that feeling.

“Please excuse my rudeness.” You tell before you impulsively side-hug him. He’s so surprised by your embrace that he doesn’t try to push you away immediately. You’re so warm and your hand is comforting on his back. He doesn’t know you, but it feels like you understand him to some extent.

He closes his eyes and lets this moment pass by. Hidden from prying eyes it’s just – you and him for this moment.

At last, he composes himself and accepts your request. He even gives you a pendant that’s only given to the highest-ranking customers saying that your information is worth that much.

It’s a pretty pendant with a black snake on it. Looks like a masterpiece.

Thankfully nothing out of the ordinary happened while you were out. You were able to enjoy some snacks when you got back in peace as your nanny was on vacation.

You need to make your move while Biwon is away your plan needs to be done by the time she gets back. Thanks to the blacks information guild – you were able to identify the liquid your nanny made you drink every day — you only had to wait two days to hear from them.

Your discovery is enraging and liberating at the same time.

It helped you put the pieces together and even gave you an advantage to work with. To finally know the full truth of what happened to Kim Y/N. This could be a good explanation for why you couldn’t access all her memories or why some things become hazy the longer you thought about it.

Life was way too cruel for a girl like Y/N.

Now that you’ve set up the stage you just need to wait for the protagonists to arrive.

Biwon seems relaxed after her vacation; she probably enjoyed a luxurious life out of the jewellery she stole from you. You’re getting sick just from seeing her smile. It must have felt good to be able to look down on a noble lady and make Y/N cater to her all this time, exploiting a poor young lady. To think that all those rumours come from her to isolate and degrade her. She should smile while she can you think smirking through the rim of your cup.

Now’s showtime.

The taste of tea is familiar in your mouth. Due to double the dose of the liquid she made you drink each morning the symptoms came earlier than you anticipated. Suddenly getting on the drug after you stopped taking it is a huge risk, but you need to prove her involvement in the crime.

You didn’t think it would hurt this much though. Your head clouded over soon, and your body collapsed on the floor in tremor.

Gaon called the doctor immediately as you instructed and while you were getting examined your other trusted maid planted the evidence in your nanny’s room. It didn’t take long to see Biwon try to escape your trap, but it was too late when the knights found the medicine bottle.

She had nowhere to run to.

You regained consciousness but it was hard for you to open your eyes yet. The pain you felt in your abdomen felt unbearable, but you need to see this through till the end.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice this. To tell the truth, the lady came to me often to ask for headache medicine.” You could feel the worry in the doctor’s voice. You feel bad for suspecting him at first. He might be the only one to actually care for Y/N in this forsaken house.

“This drug is called blackroot it’s made from a rare flower that was used in a war experiment in the past. The characteristic of the flower is that it can manipulate the mind – it makes the user unable to control their temper and creates hazy thoughts. While it works as a brainwashing technique it has all kinds of side effects such as explosive temper, haziness, headaches, loss of appetite and memory loss. The longer someone takes it the more fragile that person will become.”

No wonder Y/N is this thin. When you first heard about this drug you felt incredibly furious to make her take such a dangerous drug just because Biwon was greedy for things she couldn’t have.

Once the dizziness subsided you were able to open your eyes it seemed like the medicine the doctor gave you had some effect. The pain is still there but your head is clearer.

“I- didn’t do this! I was framed!” Biwon begs on her knees in front of the duke and young master but seeing their reactions no one actually buys that half-hearted accusation. Serves her right.

You made sure to get solid evidence of her crime.

You’re able to sit up thanks to Gaon’s help and you look down upon your nanny with a hard expression.

You cannot believe this is finally over.

Now no one will dare to take advantage of you after this incident comes to light. It won’t make your reputation restored to how it was before but at least it will provide you with a good opportunity to show the people around you that you’re different without having to fear someone figuring out you’re not the real Y/N.

“Have the witnesses come forward.” The maid who is questioned is shaking like a leaf in front of the duke.

“Who served Y/N tea?” Jin comes forward to interrogate the maids. For some reason, he looks livid. It’s probably because of their pride. How dare they manipulate the duke’s daughter a mere maid. – they probably think like that.

“The nanny always prepares the tea for the lady in the morning. No one was allowed to touch it I swear I didn’t know that the lady’s tea had blackroot in it.”

“That’s right, we were never allowed to serve her tea or be present when she made it we would be only called when the lady was about to get dressed.” If they were present at all you think for yourself as you roll your eyes.

“N- No! That…” Biwon looks around like a cornered animal. It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through. No, you promised the real Y/N that you would not let her go so easily.

“I’ve heard enough. Drag her to the underground dungeon.” After hearing the duke’s command, the knights drag Biwon out of the room. Finally, some quiet. Your head is killing you.

“Everyone leave, now. My daughter needs to rest.” As if seeing it on you that you’re nearly at your limits the grand duke instructs everyone to let you be.

Everyone leaves except for one person. Jin looks torn as he contemplates what to say to his sister.

You know the reason why Jin treated Y/N with contempt is because of that incident in the past. Y/N mad because of withdrawal symptoms from the drug called him a monster. She told him that because of him their mother died, and she even threw a teacup in his face that made him bleed. In reality, she partially blamed him for being forgotten and emotionally abused. After that Jin ignored her altogether. While saying those things are hash and not justified because of the drugs the behaviour of her brother is not something that you can overlook either. There’s no clear line to determine what’s right or wrong. You can’t simply judge if someone deserves forgiveness as it entirely depends on the person who’s granting it.

There are no right or wrong answers.

Their relationship was probably a bad fate. You’re not his sister so you have no intention of making up with him even though he’s wearing that pitiful expression. You feel bad for Y/N but you’re not going to live as her shadow forever. Once this story ends you will leave this kingdom and live as yourself. To make that happen you need to keep your relationship with Y/N’s family distant just like before so you could leave without problems in the future.

“How are you feeling?” Y/N has memories of when her brother spoke to her softly like this. Too bad it’s too late for Y/N to see this. You pull your hand away when he tries to hold it.

“This doesn’t change a thing between you and me. I would appreciate it if you could ignore me like before.” You turn away not inclined to see that pitiful expression on his face anymore.

Thankfully he leaves without a fuss this time.

Things are only growing more awkward as time passes. You made the suggestion of dining with them every day to avoid being punished by Biwon, but it comes back to bite you in the ass now that she’s gone, and no one dares to bother you anymore. You ignore the looks of pity you receive from the staff. They were the ones who ignored and badmouthed you. They have no right to take pity on you at all.

Those who did not try to see the truth don’t deserve to feel regretful.

It's annoying to see the duke and your brother try to get closer to you. They have no idea what Y/N had to go through while they were living in their blissful ignorance.

You wonder if things would have been different if she had been born as a boy in this period. Women are often ill-fated. How tragic.

“Your birthday is coming up in a few months. Do you have something in mind about how you want the celebration banquette?” Your fork freezes in the air when the duke calls you.

While you don’t want a party it would be good to build your reputation. You have no choice but to have one.

“I’ll prepare for it. Thank you for your concern.” You keep your eyes on the food. After taking that double dose your appetite seems to be worse than before. You need to gain some weight, you’re too thin as it is.

“Don’t worry about the budget just prepare how you like.” You’re getting dizzy this is getting bad you overestimated and thought some rest was all you needed. You need to take better care of yourself if you want to beat the final boss of the story. This is about time you meet with your favourite character as well. You need to look your best even if he only glances at you for a second. You’re getting excited just thinking about him.

“Alright. Excuse me I’m full.” You step away from the table to leave and prepare for the upcoming events when you lose your sight for a moment. Thankfully the head butler catches you in time that you’re not faceplanting the floor this moment.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” You push the old man away with reddened ears. This is so embarrassing.

“I’ll carry you to your room.” Your hand automatically holds onto your brother when he suddenly picks you up, to keep your balance. Now you’re really getting tired of their sudden act of affection.

“I said. I’m fine.” You pursue your lips in a frown when he keeps ignoring you to let you down.

“You can hate me all you want. I deserve it but I’m not letting you down.” You’re speechless. At least he knows. It doesn’t matter if he has regrets now that you solved everything.

If it weren’t for your effort and sacrifice things would have been left alone and you would be still suffering without anyone to rely on at the hands of your greedy nanny.

They can feel guilty all they want; it doesn’t change a thing. If anything, you’re feeling angrier about how they think they have the right to make things right after everything that has happened.

It’s bothersome.

“It won’t change anything. No matter how hard you try I’ll never consider you as family again. Not after you and father abandoned me. You don’t know anything about me or how much I suffered. If you didn’t care then don’t care now.” It’s probably hard to hear and somewhat you feel guilty for saying that since you don’t know what Y/N would have wanted but this is how you feel.

You’re torn about what you should do.

This is supposed to be your home when you feel the safest.

However, you can’t remember a single good memory or a time when you felt relaxed in this place. It just makes you sad.

“I understand.” His hand around you tightens just a tiny bit before he relaxes his posture and the hands that hold you gently. At least he’s not trying to come up with excuses. He knows fully well that what you told him was the truth. They have no idea how much you had to suffer since they kept ignoring you. His heart is getting heavy when he realises how light his sister feels in his arms. A woman in her twenties should weight a lot more than this. He’s carrying you with care and gently places you on top of your bed. You have no intention of getting closer to him, but it’s been bothering you for a while ever since you saw that memory. You feel like they don’t deserve your kindness. You wonder if Y/N would be forgiving. If she would be able to embrace them and trust them again. You know you can’t.

“You’re not a monster and I’m sorry for saying that so stop thinking about useless things.” You impulsively grab his hand before he can leave. This is all you can give him as an apology – you know Y/N probably would have wanted him to hear that at least. Something wavers in his eyes. You didn’t think such a small gesture would make him cry. Now that you think about it probably no one said such words to him before. His biggest fear. From an early age, he always heard that his mother died because of him. It shouldn’t be a small child’s fault. It makes you feel like this whole family is just unfortunate.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Jin holds your hand with shaking fingers. You can clearly feel his tears fall as he pushes his face into your palm seeking some comfort. You don’t know how but you can feel that this apology is sincere. You don’t have the heart to push him away this time.

Just this once you will allow it.

“The captain of the imperial guards shouldn’t cry like this.” You pat his head while he cries. Seeing such a powerful figure crying into your skirt on his knees feels weird.

He hadn’t left for a while and even when he did, he looked reluctant. You could tell what he was thinking without having to hear him say it. He’s afraid that the next time you see him you will push him away and avoid him. Your hand on his head and your words comforted him. He’s the one who did wrong but, in the end, you helped him instead deal with his biggest fear a little better.

He realises that he doesn’t deserve such a good sister as you.

His sudden resolve and earnest eyes make you bite your lips in worry. You know it won’t be good when he suddenly turns around with fiery passion. “I, Kim Seokjin give my oath to Kim Y/N that I will protect you for as long as I live. If I break my promise, I’m willing to die a miserable death.” This is your first time seeing someone give their knight’s oath. His hands are elegantly placed over his heart in a kneeling position and his eyes are fierce and honest. Stupid brother, you’re not the one he should give his oath to!

That was not your intention to make him so motivated. You should really learn how to ignore things in the future if you want to avoid bothersome situations like this. It’s not like you can reject him now either.

After he finally left because of work called you collapsed on your bed.

You can’t believe he gives you the knight’s oath instead of the female lead. He’s supposed to fall in love with her and be the miserable second male lead. You expect that things will be different if you change your destiny, but such drastic changes make you anxious for the future development of the plot.

Thankfully your favourite character was not caught up in the love triangle since his territory is the farthest away from the capital. He doesn’t frequent gatherings because of his inability to fully control his powers, and he has a bad reputation overall because of his war achievements and fearful power. Throughout the novel, he is described as someone who doesn’t care about women and is only fixed to find a way to control his abilities.

Min Yoongi you can’t wait to see him at the upcoming hunting festival.

Everything becomes normal and quiet.

Your daily life is better except for the torturous dinners with your family. Thankfully Jin is busy with imperial work and your father manages his new business and duties as a duke, so you don’t have to run into them too much inside the house.

In two or three days you make a trip to see Jungkook and get useful information and sometimes chat over some tea.

What’s next on your list is to gather personal intel on people who will attend the hunting festival. The fact that this is organised by the Duke of Summer is making you anxious. You remember some crazy shit happen around that time and his main target will be your favourite character. Min Yoongi.

Trying not to look too obsessed with a man you’ve never met before you decided to look over his information last.

There’s not much that could be gathered on him (even by a professional information broker as the North keeps their gates locked skin-tight) in the first place the info that your eyes skim through is less than you expected even with the additional stuff that you know because of the novel is limited mostly to his childhood and main events which is not much at all.

He wasn’t present in all the episodes but when he’s involved – well, things were never good.

You don’t know all the archduke’s special abilities which is a concern. You know Min Yoongi can read minds. The limitation to his power is that he has to touch the person to hear all the thoughts but with malicious intent, it doesn’t even need that.

It makes him the second most powerful ability user since he can detect lies and see one’s true self. Someone has to be well aware of his ability to hide something from him.

His special skill is to tell what the other person is thinking good or bad but that means that he could hardly hear his own thoughts. The world is never silent for his ears and that has its consequences. What little is known of them in the outside world is that all the Min descendants had gone mad at some point in their lives and chose to kill themselves when there was another person that could take over the Ducey or their son became of age if they were lucky to hold on until then. Min Yoongi’s tragic childhood is summarised in a few sad lines in the novel it was not overly detailed, but you remember feeling sad.

Whilst your survival is the priority you want to change Yoongi’s fate as well if it’s possible. Even if he’s not going to madly fall in love with you. You want him to have a happy life and not end as tragically as in the novel. You liked his character a lot. Even when he was faced with such hardships, he never gave up he would never succumb to the same fate as his father, and he held on until the last moment of his life.

You admired his determination to live.

You want to do the same with your second chance and hold on until the last moment trying to change your fate.

Who knows maybe you could overcome it together.

So many scenarios run through your head imagining how you will greet him when you finally meet him, what you will say to him. All of those restless nights couldn’t have been wrong when you’re finally faced with him. None of them could get you ready for that hard cold stare that he shows you.

You practically burst open the carriage door after the chaperone states that you’ve arrived.

Being in the same space as your brother and father acting all cute and considerate for almost four full hours made you want to let the ground swallow you whole and never want to see the sun again.

This is when you first make eye contact with him – or so you think. His eyes visibly slip over your face as if he’s not even seeing you just looking through you like you’re one tree of the dozens curving the landscape. It hurts your pride a lot to be invisible to your favourite character, but you gulp it down and hold your head high when you exit the carriage.

You knew it well that he was that type of person, but it didn’t mean it still did not hurt you to see it with your own eyes. There’s one thing to say he’s not interested in women but in reality, it felt like he’s not into humans – not just women. Hearing everyone’s thoughts might be a reason why he would be so over humans that he doesn’t even want to acknowledge them but damn.

Now that you see him and not just read about him you can tell two things already. One, he’s crazy handsome. The lines that describe how good-looking he is does not give him justice. Two, the lines in the novel are too tame to describe how much he loathes to see and interact with anyone. It’s almost comical how disgust is written all over his face when he has to shake hands with nobles or greet the young ladies.

That face still has many admirers even when his expression is a permanent frown all the time. Most likely to his greatest disapproval, he’s very popular with the ladies despite his bad reputation.

You can imagine how annoying it must be for him. Forgetting how you felt hurt before you even started to feel bad for him. His circumstances are unique and, in fact, no one knows what he has to deal with every single day. Even though you know you don’t really know what it feels like.

You’re contemplating how to approach him to not get immediately shut down or seem too suspicious when some of the ladies have you locked in a circle. Seeing their arrogant expressions, you could already tell what would happen when they finally opened their mouths.

“What a surprise to see you attend this year. Are you even allowed to be outside yet?”

You grit your teeth and smile at them.

It’s a waste to argue with them and you’re not here to let them bully you. You came here to see your favourite character and they are already dampening your mood.

“The ladies might need to check their eyesight soon. I arrived here with my brother and father so if you have complaints about me being here you could always go to them.” You speak with a permanent smile but there’s nothing friendly in your expression as you cross them leaving the circle of hyenas behind you.

They’re lesser nobles of course they wouldn’t dare complain to them. Your family is powerful after all one of the four most powerful people in the kingdom is your father. They targeted you specifically because you were an easy target so far too dumb to attack them with words like they do, and Y/N's violent temper just served the right purpose to belittle her and make her the most hated woman in high society. You’re not going to give them the chance to humiliate you anymore. They are just extras in a novel.

The thought alone makes you smile. Right. You’re the main villain in this novel but you’re going to turn it into your story so that you can be the main character in your life.

Something that you always wanted to try.

The first day goes by without incident. After the second day of the hunting festival starts the hunting begins and activities for both the ladies and men begin slowly but surely following the original plot of the novel.

Until there’s a big error occurring in the middle. You don’t remember any banquet happening to welcome the most influential families. This could mean that it wasn’t relevant to the main plot to mention, or things changed somehow and now there’s a sudden dinner plan made by someone.

There’s a banquet held for the four archdukes and their families and while you’re thrilled that you’re seated right across from your favourite character you were not expecting him to death glare you right in front of your salad.

To your best knowledge you haven’t even greeted him yet so why does he look like he wants to murder your entire family? You’re unsure.

At some point, you stop avoiding him and look him in the eye but still, you can’t read his expression at all.

You feel like you don’t have to emphasise that you couldn’t eat a single thing at that dinner in peace.

You jump when a man approaches you in the empty hallway and when you look at him something clicks in your mind, now that you think about it you can recognise this man from anywhere. He’s Namjoon his right-hand man the only person that he tolerates.

“You scared the living shit out of me.” You’re so surprised that you don’t check your language before it’s already out in the open. Your eyes are wide as you look at the man probably thinking that you’re a weird person. Shit. Now you’ve done it. You tried so hard until now to remain in character and not use slang words or bad language.

Which is hard on their own as you breathe and live with words that end in fuck most likely than not.

The struggles of a modern woman. Haah.

“I mean you should not hide in the shadows like an assassin ready to strike Mr. You scared me.” You try to put the blame on him entirely so he would forget your previous words and it seems to work as he’s quick to apologise and state his business.

“Duke Min would like to speak with you. If you could please follow me, I will lead you to him.” You narrow your eyes after Namjoon finishes his sentence. Him wanting to see you is very weird.

Why?

“Does this have to do with him glaring at me throughout dinner?” You take a step back narrowing your eyes suspiciously at the man. Even though he’s just the messenger you can’t help but ask. You and him being alone after you witnessed his personality might not be the best idea even if he’s still your favourite character. You don’t want to die by his hands either.

“He.. the duke has a difficult personality but he’s not a bad person. I’m sure he’s just interested in the lady.” You can tell that Namjoon really believes that but for some reason you can’t picture him being interested in you. Y/N might be pretty but the duke is not that kind of person to be captivated by something so shallow as that. That has to be a different reason why he wants to talk with you in private and while you’re anxious.

You decide its best to see what he wants.

Also, he’s not someone that anyone can just say no to. He will most likely force you to meet him. It might be your best option to get this over with and see where this conversation goes. If it even goes anywhere. He’s a practical person like that.

You’re anxious and excited at the same time as you follow Namjoon just a step behind.

“Who are you?” You’re perplexed to meet with this type of question. He cornered you without warning, both his hands were caging your hip, your backside digging into the edge of the table.

You’re scared and strangely excited to be this close. Your heart is beating heavily trying to break out from your ribcage.

“Kim Y/N.” You reply dumbly while still trying to process this sudden change in his behaviour and his closeness to you.

You were greeting him first and suddenly you’re completely caged in.

“Kim? Is Duke Kim your father?” You would find his furrowing brows adorable if you weren’t so close to witnessing it. His scent is overpowering your senses, and your faces are just a hair's breadth away from touching – your favourite character makes it hard for you to think straight. Air is caught in your lungs when he holds you by your chin tilting your head up to meet with his eyes.

“Y-Yes.” You’re unsure what he wants to hear from you. From the moment you stepped into his office, he kept questioning you without answering any of yours in return.

“Am I interrupting something?” Both of your gazes turn to face a surprised Kim Namjoon standing by the door. He looks exactly like he just got here and witnessed something weird happening. You can’t blame him for it, you’re surprised as well. Min Yoongi keeps acting weird. He looks somewhat bewitched as he keeps looking between you and Namjoon almost bordering to look crazy in your eyes for a moment.

As if he’s in a deep thought about something mind breaking discovery.

Yoongi didn’t hear his right hand man coming at all but what’s even weirder than that is he can’t hear his thoughts at all.

It all started when he tried to read this woman’s mind throughout the dinner celebration but failed while everyone’s else mind spoke to him clearly. He found it strange for her to be the only exception. As if she has a shield around her mind that doesn’t allow his power to penetrate. The Kim family’s power is to neutralize other powers (everyone is aware of it as the family never tried to hide it) but that can’t be the answer since he could hear their thoughts all the same as you have to be aware of the power you’re trying to block but no one knows that he can read minds.

But now upon making contact with her, he can’t even hear what others are thinking. Which could mean her power is even more rare compared to her family. Everything is quite like it was never before. It’s unsettling but on the other hand, it’s quiet and peaceful.

A realisation draws on him that Kim Y/N might be the key to finally learning to control this power of his that has been plaguing his generation of heirs and forcing them to live a miserable life until they either take their lives or become insane. Her power acts like a tranquillizer almost. Tasting this peaceful silence Yoongi’s hand curves around her waist more protectively. Protective of this silence he’s experiencing for the first time in his life.

He will do anything to keep this woman by his side from now on. He comes to a firm resolution on the spot.

“Be my wife.” To say you feel shocked after hearing that would be an understatement. This is not your usual love confession, and you know it. There’s nothing tender in his words or expression if anything it feels like a business transaction to you.

It’s clear he’s proposing an arranged marriage kind of deal where you both get something out of it but you’re not fond of the idea. In your previous life, you never had a real boyfriend whilst you dated here and there. Someone you could say is the love of your life you never once experienced that feeling, and you don’t want a marriage in your second life without love. You decided to do anything you wanted from now on.

“I’m sorry but I have to refuse your proposal. I won’t marry a man I know is not in love with me and I don’t love him either. This is not something I want.” Too shocked to reply you use that time to get out of his hold and get away before he regains his senses after getting rejected. He probably didn’t think anyone would dare to say no to him as he was aware to be popular with the ladies. This just makes you even more unique as it was anyone else, they would have said yes immediately to an offer like that. Namjoon gets out of your way as you leave, his mouth hanging open still trying to process that the man who notoriously hates women suddenly asked for a lady’s hand in marriage and getting brutally rejected by one at the same time.

The door shuts behind you abruptly and Yoongi massages his temple with his hands trying to figure out what he did wrong for you to storm out like that. Was his proposal not to your liking? What does it even mean to marry the person you love is beyond his comprehension.

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