#could only last 2 years before the folded again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettymonegasque · 4 months

Text

not acceptable

Charles Leclerc x fem!driver! reader

Summary: Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do when your pretty boyfriend is a lil dumb

Warnings: Excessive cursing, Lando slander, grown men sharing a single brain cell, fluff?

Word Count: 1.3k

Based on my favourite scene in Schitt’s Creek

In all the two years you’ve been in Ferrari, the speculations and rumours of you dating Charles were non-stop. Neither of you paid much attention to it. You were both in happy relationships. However, that changed in the summer of ‘22 when you broke up with your partner. It wasn’t messy and you both agreed it was for the better. You focused on the rest of the season.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘23, you and Charles were both single. You decided to give in to the speculations and give the relationship a real shot. You went on a few dates, each one being more fun than the previous one. Yet neither of you took the leap to become exclusive. You both liked each other but it wasn’t said out loud as much as you would’ve wanted to. So when Charles invited you to a game night with his friends, you thought it would be the one where he introduced you as his girlfriend.

You knocked on his apartment door at 7 pm. You had brought a charcuterie board because you panicked and the first thing your mind thought was cheese.

“Y/N! Come in.” Charles opened the door and hugged you. You tried your best to return while managing the charcuterie board. He laughed at your struggle, took the board from your hand and led you in. You spotted some familiar faces in the room. “Hey, guys. This is Y/N. My teammate as you know.” To risk being dramatic, the only description for what you felt was “death by a thousand cuts”. You still forced a smile and greeted everyone. You took a seat on the sofa next to Charles. “You brought a charcuterie board?” Pierre asked puzzled. “Dibs on gouda.” Yelled a familiar Brit.

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

For the next few hours, you forced yourself to forget about your “teammate” and focus on the game instead. To everyone’s surprise, you were very good at Monopoly. You had already collected over $7000 worth of assets. You were more than happy to win by default. Arthur suggested Uno and everyone complied. You had never played it before which made the group very happy.

When you got your cards you leaned over to Charles and whispered “What the fuck should I do now? ” Charles peeked at your cards and by instinct you shied them away from him. “You have to show me the cards so I can tell you what to do.” He laughed. You rolled your eyes and showed him the cards. “How the hell did you get 3 +4 cards?” “Why? Is that bad?” “No no. It is very good and I am very grateful my turn is before you.” “I am gonna crush these motherfuckers” You silently giggled.

“Y/N your turn,” Andrea called out. You placed the +4 card on the table. “Seriously?” Lando sighed and took 4 cards from the deck. “I thought you'd never played this before.” “I haven’t. I’m just that good, Norris.” “You know you could put all the +4 cards at once? ” Charles whispered in your ear. When your turn came again you placed both your +4 cards down. “Oh come on. You’re an absolute ass.” Lando exclaimed. “You just got destroyed by a UNO rookie, Lando” Pierre doubled over in laughter. “Also you have only one card left. You can call out UNO” Arthur nudged you. “UNO!” You yelled. “Well, I guess we have a winner. ” Lorenzo sighed and folded.

You started feeling a little guilty. Your winning spree kept cutting the game short. It didn’t look like anyone was having any fun. Even if Charles isn’t going to introduce you as his girlfriend, you still want his friends and brothers to like you as Charles’ girl. Charles brought in Scrabble as his last resort. He wasn’t expecting to go through 2 games so quickly. You were chosen as the judge. You promised yourself to go easy on everyone. You weren’t sure if you were making a good impression on everyone but boy did your ego love this.

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

“What do you mean ‘rizz’ isn’t accepted?” Arthur yelled. “Mate it isn’t in the dictionary.” “Then why does everyone call Lando ‘NoRIZZ’?” “Hey!” “I consider it as an acceptable word. We know the meaning. It exists. It’s a word.” You chimed in. “Thank you!” Arthur smiled and added 13 points to himself. The game continued and you limited yourself to simple words. And you accepted every word regardless of how ridiculous it was.

“Yes Pierre ‘Fuck’ is a word.”

“I mean we all know what ‘OMG’ is”

“Sure, Charles. You can make Frenglish words.”

You could physically feel the pain from the insanity of some words but you were on a mission. You nodded and smiled and carried on. The words became chaotic by the minute. Your last straw was when Lando argued that “Skibidi” should be accepted.

“That’s it. I can’t take this shit anymore. I respect the game too much to put up with this. You are way too old to use the word ‘Skibidi’, Lando.” “Yeah so wrong, Lando” Pierre fakes disappointment. “You! Fuck is not acceptable.” “Not acceptable. Yes sorry, Y/N” He bites back a laugh. “OMG!? Are you kidding me?” “I wasn’t.” Lorenzo shakes his head. “And my boyfriend sits there looking pretty and wanting to make up Frenglish words. THAT’S NOT EVEN A LANGUAGE. NOT ACCEPTABLE!”

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” Charles looked up at you. “I said Lando is old.” You tried to shift the conversation. “Why the fuck am I getting slandered?” “No. I think it was something about your boyfriend being pretty and making up words.” Charles redirects you. “Um... I don’t remember saying that.” You mumbled. “Yeah no. That’s what we heard. Right Arthur?” Pierre snickered.

“Hey if my girlfriend says Frenglish isn’t acceptable then it isn’t, guys” Charles smirked. “Or it is. I don’t remember saying it.” You shrugged. “So you can do whatever you like.” The ceiling looked much more interesting than the gorgeous green eyes looking at you. “I think our work is done here. Let’s go guys.” Lando stood up. “And what exactly was that work, Norizz?” You called out as everyone was walking out the door chattering. Lando just smiled at you and closed the door.

You and Charles remained quiet and just looked at each other for a long moment. “I don’t k-” “Do you r-” You both spoke at the same time. Gentle giggles echoed in the silence. “I was gonna ask if you regretted it?” Charles looked at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “No. God no. Charles, I don’t regret it at all. But to be honest, I kinda thought you hosted this game night to introduce me as your girlfriend. It sucked ass when you called me your teammate.” You looked down at your feet. You contemplated if sitting down would make this whole shebang less awkward. But Charles quietened your thoughts by standing up and taking your hands in his.

“Cherie, seconds before you knocked, I was having a full-blown panic attack. I really really like you and I wanted us to be official but I didn’t know what you felt. The guys were there for emotional support because I do not trust myself with any high-risk situation.”

“You drive a car at 300 km/hr almost every weekend.”

“Please. That is nothing compared to you. Every time I get in the cockpit, I’m more worried about your safety than mine. I was going to introduce you as my girlfriend. Trust me the word was on the tip of my tongue but I was being a pussy and chickened out. I’m so glad you did it tho.” His smile made those adorable dimples pop as he hugged you. “I’m so glad I did it too.” Your voice came out muffled with your cheek pressed against his chest.

“And I’m so glad you called me pretty.��

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #schitt's creek #schittscreekedit #netflix #fanfics #pretty monegasque

1K notes · View notes

dmercer91 · 5 months

Note

can we get a part 2 of luke liking jacks best friend??? maybe where they end up together 🤭

got the girl, lh43

in which luke's behaviour finally clicks and you mess with him until he can admit his feelings out loud (2.0k)

soft, almost needy/naive luke is becoming my favourite cause i love me a boy that's deeply reliant on his snuggles despite being tall and man shaped. a little unproofread and a little silly in the middle, for flavour

when you woke up, you found yourself tucked under lukes arm, your face now a little hidden into his neck so that he could be far up enough on the bed that his legs didn't teeter the edge.

he was sound asleep, a little less of a morning person than you despite his hectic schedule during most of the year.

the summer was his time to sleep until ludicrous hours, and you took note throughout the years that he always took advantage.

he was always the last one of the brothers to hobble downstairs for breakfast, sleep frequently prominent in his eyes and his hair a tangled mess of his curls that were drying out due to the lake water and lack of caring for.

so you let him rest, carefully untangling yourself from his grasp and heading to wash your face, and brush your teeth. it would be a while before quinn was up, usually the most responsible brother who knew that if he got up early enough he could poach some of your breakfast and have a little while of peace in the gym or front yard.

you cleaned up some of the water bottles that had been left in the living room from the night prior, folding the throw blankets and fixing up the pillows before starting to cook your breakfast, deciding on a simple one for today; eggs, toast and some fruit.

what you didn't expect was to hear the creak of the stairs within a few seconds of you frying your eggs, your eyebrows furrowing as you examined the microwave for the time.

a little early for quinn, but you figured it was him anyways. "quinny?" you said, your voice travelling far enough to make it to the stairs but not to make its way upstairs and wake anyone.

when he didn't answer, you turned your head and saw that it was luke, rubbing exhaust from his eyes and sleepily making his way over to you.

you smiled, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into him, and sharp whine echoing into your ear as he saw that you were cooking breakfast.

"it's so early.. come back to bed w' me," he pleaded, tugging you away from the oven and pawing at the knobs of the stove, trying to turn it off.

you giggled, adjusting his arms on you and turning back to your pan, shaking your head.

"i'm making my breakfast, lukey. i can make you some, hm?" he shook his head, tucking his face into your neck as if the natural morning light was too harsh on his eyes.

his arms unravelled from your waist, hands planting on your hips and soothing up and down, pulling your shirt up on your waist a little with each passing.

you bit your lip, his actions from now and last night finally coming together in your brain.

snuggling up with you, staring at you instead of watching a movie he picked out, agreeing to spend the night with you, calling you baby by accident. you weren't sure how you hadn't picked up on it before.

everything was confirmed for you when the stairs croaked once again, now under the feet of the eldest hughes brother. when he saw you, luke still trying to pry your attention away from anything that wasn't him, his face lit with an amused smile.

he knew

you started to ponder on if jack knew, or even trevor and alex. if everyone was painfully aware of luke's eyes always being trained on you and decided to keep it from you.

you blinked back into reality, turning off the stove and plating your eggs. "lu?" you mumbled, offhandedly like you had a question you'd been meaning to ask him for some time, even though it only just come to you.

he hummed, hopeful eyes peeking up at you and his hands coming to a halt. "how about you go get ready and ill make you some breakfast, n' we can have it out on the boat," you murmured, cupping his head in your hand and playing with his curls.

you were gonna see how long it took until he broke, admitted how he'd been feeling.

you watched as his eyes dilated, scanning down to your lips with a deer in headlights-esque look of infatuation. he licked his lips, eyes darting back up to yours as soon as he caught his own staring.

he then nodded, blinking away the evident look of euphoria on his face at the feeling of your hands in his hair.

"oh," he murmured, still nodding along to your question. it was like he was under a spell. "okay," he finished, your hand retreating from his curls and pressing to his chest.

"i'll meet you out there, alright? gotta change once i'm done making your food," you instructed, earning one last nod of confirmation before he finally tore his body away from yours and lugged himself back upstairs and towards his own room.

"don't tell me you're gonna do this until he tells you himself," quinn's voice came from behind you once luke's bedroom door was shut and he couldn't hear the conversation.

"what's the fun in telling him i know? and plus, you can't tell me you didn't love watching that," you gestured to where luke had been standing, calling back to the blindingly obvious pining that the older brother had watched from the stairs.

he nodded a little, smile cracking at his lips as he took the plate of food you had already made for yourself.

you glared at him, mixing together another couple eggs into your bowl now that yours were gone.

"what! they would've been cold by the time you got to the boat anyways," he defended, shovelling a fork full of eggs into his mouth and sitting down at the island.

"y/n?" he asked, swallowing his bite.

you hummed, looking back at him as you poured the eggs into the pan. "you won't just lead him on, will you? like, you feel the same," he asked quietly, eyes avoiding yours after a quick second of eye contact.

your lips pulled back into a smile at his attempt at nonchalant protectiveness over his youngest brother, and you shook your head. "silly question. remember the girl who's face i shoved into a pile of snow? when we were kids?" you recalled, and quinn chuckled.

"yeah. i guess he's kinda always been yours," he stated, much more comfortable now that he knew two of his favourite people would soon stop dancing around each others requited feelings.

when the stairs could be heard again, you were expecting luke, but instead you saw your best friend, gloomy as he stared at you.

"you watched top gun without me, and you had our movie night with my little brother," he pouted, going up to you and ruffling your hair, tugging you into a side hug.

"even?" he asked, looking down at you hopefully.

"you threw me into the pool while i was wearing white. and zegras was there. even," you stuck your hand out, watching as he bashfully took it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

"not my brightest impulse decision, i have to admit," he sighed, reaching over your head for a plate and stealing the toast that had come out of the toaster, then some eggs.

you gave him the same glare you'd sent quinn, earning a similarly mischievous grin.

"why'd you make so much if s' not for me?" he wiggled his eyebrows, eyeing luke's bedroom door.

you rolled your eyes, a response you seemed to have needed to resort to one too many times this morning. for future reference, you'd keep in mind that one brother at a time for this hour of the morning was more than enough.

"her and lukey have a breakfast boat date," quinn teased, the two of them looking at each other with excited looks, both with hints of relief that something finally stirred between you and luke.

"at long last was getting a little long, munchkin. good for you," he kissed your forehead, sitting next to quinn at the counter.

"you're both just.. so insufferable" you grumbled, now having to finish off the carton of eggs you'd been using since two plate fulls had been stolen from you.

you popped more toast into the toaster, frowning at the empty plate of strawberries you’d cut up and grabbing the container of unsliced ones to make up some more.

switching focus back to the eggs, you scrambled them up and shook the pan around, ensuring a more even cook.

then, thing one and thing two came jogging downstairs in a full fledged conversation at the top of their lungs

“no, no. i totally kicked your a- ooh, fruit,“ he went to grab a piece of strawberry, earning a slap on the hand.

you spun around, spatula drawn like a sword at his face

“zegras, if you touch my food, this spatula is going down your throat.” his eyes went wide for a second, index finger pointing to your utensil and slowly lowering it down

“i liked you better yesterday,” he grinned, winking and grabbing an apple from the fridge, tossing one to alex. “touchy, this morning.” he grumbled under his breath as you glared at jack

“come on, man. you’re gonna get my top gun privileges revoked. again,” jack got up to put his plate away, shoving trevor’s shoulder on the way by.

“i like that that’s what you’re worried about, that’s really cool of you, j.” you rolled your eyes once more, finally greeting alex with a ruffle of his hair.

then finally, after the string of hockey boys coming down to steal your breakfast, each adorned with bottomless pits for stomachs- luke made his way back to the kitchen. he was now in a hoodie and swim shorts, his hair wet from his shower.

“could you finish up plating everything, lu? your brothers stole our original plates so i’m running a little behind,” you smiled sarcastically as the two eldest waved to you

luke chuckled, nodding and taking your place in front of the stove.

while you changed, he finished cutting up the fruit, he put whatever spreads you’d taken out on the toast, and he split the eggs.

when he was done, he turned to see his brothers, along with trevor, alex and cole- who came down as you went back up, staring at him.

he turned his shoulders inward, suddenly a little too self aware.

“.. what?” quinn grinned, cole coming to pat him on the back as he made his own meal.

“look who finally got the girl,” trevor teased, alex wiggling his eyebrows after taking a bite of his apple.

he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at jack who nodded in confirmation.

“i got the girl?” he asked softly, arms falling to his sides, slightly limp in his state of shock.

“yeah, you did.” you smiled from the entrance to the kitchen, coming up and massaging his shoulder a little.

“you are no fun,” you pointed at quinn, who raised his hands in defence.

“what? why?” luke asked, looking down at you with his head tilted adorably.

“i was gonna mess with you just a little longer. wanted you to admit it,” you grinned, hand on his abs

he smiled a little, pecking your lips.

you tugged at him, grabbing your plate and nodding to his.

“c’mon, now.” you pulled him towards to patio door.

the boys whistled after the two of you and you giggled, looking back to see jack with a proud, almost bashful smile. his favourite people, this’d mean a lot to him even if he never said it.

to save face, the last thing you heard from him on your way out of the back was ‘wear protection!’

you shook your head with a smile, turning to luke now that you couldn’t be seen.

“my lukey,” you murmured, cupping his face and kissing him softly, still more intense now that there wasn’t an audience.

he nodded into your kiss, returning the favour with a hint of desperation.

“my girl,”

#e’s fics #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #hughes brothers

1K notes · View notes

joonsytip · 6 months

Text

Withering for You || Seungcheol-Part 2

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): Seungcheol is still the biggest meany, crying, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, everything is on rocks, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though), smut, mention of alcohol consumption

Word Count: 6.1k

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!

Minors DNI!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[SVT Masterlist] [SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist]

You are laying on the bed draped over by your husband, Seungcheol.

The reception party passed in a blink of an eye and after you both were driven to the house aided by nothing but silence, Seungcheol was all over you as soon as you both stepped into the house.

He dragged you into the nearest room he could get and next, both of your clothes were off, now littering the floor.

You two blended in so naturally that it seemed like you two were never apart. Seungcheol still has the map of your body memorized and it has been over an hour since he has started to work his mouth on your pussy. He's been teasing your clit, sucking on your buds but never giving you an orgasm.

You lay breathless, gasping as he continues to deny you orgasms, overstimulating you and when you try to squirm away his strong grip is keeping you in place.

"P-Please I can't take it anymore", you say in your hoarse voice, giving his hair rough tug, "Please let me cum, Seungcheol please..."

Seungcheol lifts his gaze to meet yours, his lips curled up in mockery before dives into your folds once again eating you out like a starved man of years.

And suddenly, all of it's gone. You open your eyes again at the emptiness only to see him hovering over you.

He takes both of your hands and pins them down to the bed. He growls into your mouth and bites your lower lip a little too hard. You moan when his other hand kneads your breasts and pinch your nipples. It's all so intense that you have gone void of anything and everything except for Seungcheol. All you feel and see is him.

Seungcheol is marking you tenaciously, a clear message to you that you're now solely his. He's painting your neck, your chest, your thighs in shades of pink and purple for the world to know.

A loud moan erupts out of your throat when he enters you, filling you up to the hilt. He releases your hands and you find them wrapping around his shoulder. With each sharp thrust of his, your nails dig deeper on the skin of his back. And it doesn't take long for you to reach your first orgasm of the night.

But your husband has just started. He doesn't give you any time to recover. He sits up and perches both of your legs on his shoulder and starts to thrust into you deeper while his fingers rub your clit. A few more thrusts and you are cumming again along with him.

You're exhausted, so numb from the session that your eyes close shut. And when you're drifting off, you feel a grip on your hips and your husband whispers in your ear, "We are just getting started, did you forget how long we went before?"

And next you're being flipped onto the bed.

You wake up at noon and your mood immediately sours seeing the empty space beside you. Seungcheol's words from last night ring in your ears.

"Where are you going?", you ask when you see him getting off the bed after he's satiated at the dawn hours.

"To my room", he says draping over the towel he got from the bathroom, "And", he turns to look at you, "This is your room, you'll be staying here."

You're eyes go wide as saucers and with every ounce of energy you could gather you sat up, "What do you mean by that? We're married!"

Seungcheol laughs and throws you a glare, "Just on paper. Don't you dare to cross the threshold to my room. I'm warning you."

And then he leaves.

After showering, you decide to get something to eat and that's when you meet the housekeeper Ms. Oh in the kitchen.

"Hello, Ms. Oh!", you greet her in glee because you knew her and absolutely adored her.

Ms. Oh turns around in surprise and the first thing she does on seeing you is pulling you aside and saying with concern, "I never believed you'd do something like that to Seungcheol. So please be honest with me and answer me. Did you really cheat on him all those years ago?"

You sigh and try to usher off but also you didn't wanna disappoint people who loved you anymore so you answered honestly, "I didn't. I have loved Seungcheol devotedly throughout. There was never anyone else."

"Oh poor thing. You must have had your reasons to let that happen", you hear Ms. Oh exclaim and next you're being pulled into her embrace. She has been with Seungcheol since his childhood days. Ever since he had a house of his own, she has been sent to take care of him. You had met her when you had visited the Choi mansion while you both dated. She was always the one to welcome you.

"Is he up yet?", you ask and Ms. Oh shrugs off urging you to check it yourself.

So you are now standing at the threshold of your husband's room and contemplating where to fight the lion or flight from the spot.

Ofcourse you choose to the former, hence you don't even knock, just push the door behind and walk in.

"Where do you think you're heading?", you freeze seeing Seungcheol who's sat on the bed, glasses on, probably reading something on the tab, "You're not allowed in here, get out."

Your absence of fear and bored expression irks your husband. Before he could speak again, you are pacing fast and now you're seating infront of him.

"Do you really think all these tactics would work on me?", you roll eyes, "I'm your wife and not just on paper."

"People can be really shameless.", he snickers, "I thought I was a good judge of character but thanks to you, I don't think so anymore."

"Seungcheol, it's in the past, can't we start again?"

"So simple for you to say, isn't it?"

The atmosphere drops. The gloom caves in. And as Seungcheol's eyes turn darker, his face scares you off. Tab long forgotten on the bed, both of his hands form a fist, a sign you know very well. He's controlling himself, he's keeping his feelings, his hurt, his words at a bay.

Moments pass by. You stare at him, he glares at you.

"I have never loved again Y/N.", he says like a scarred man, all the anger now replaced with all of the agonies, "I have trust issues, I can't trust people easily."

His voice cracks, he lets all those tears fall, "I wasn't like this. It's so suffocating, so difficult to live like this."

You are rendered speechless. All these years you have only wept in self pity. All three years you've only thought how wronged you were, how difficult it was for you.

But what about Seungcheol? How did he cope up? Was there ever a scope of healing for him?

Clearly not. You could see the entire span of heartbreak in the way he's sobbing now, face hidden behind his palms.

You want to engulf him in your embrace. Want to take all of his pain away. But you know if you reach out it would only hurt him more. So you wipe your tears hastily and walk out of his room.

Were you really going to do him any good? That's what you could think of.

"All you had to do is stay.", Seungcheol murmurs to the door which slammed shut when you walked out.

The flashlights are blinding. The fake smiles are nauseating. The entire venue is suffocating.

But you know better, being the wife of Choi Seungcheol comes with a whole lot of baggage. The most displeasing one to you being in the limelight. And Seungcheol knows it well, hence he has been attending every event he could despite his busy schedule only to drag you along with him in each one of them.

He takes pleasure in your discomfort throughout the night. His lips curl up everytime an obnoxious person approaches you just to sprut nonsense or talk business, your interest in neither.

You don't let go of your husband's arm. Though you know it attracts more of an unnecessary crowd, you don't let that grip loosen, not even for a moment.

"I don't understand you sometimes.", Seungcheol says as you both occupy a table at the corner, "You say you don't like the limelight but isn't that what you've been running for? You did marry me for my money, my status and my fame. What else do you want?"

Your gaze is fixated on the some random couple you don't know when you say, "What if all I need is you?", you crane your neck to meet his gaze.

Seungcheol breaks the gaze from you and he leaves the table. You have been confessing your feelings at every chance you could but to Seungcheol it's amusing, how swiftly you could lie through your teeth even without batting eyelashes. Marvelous he thinks and he hates you more each time.

That night, like any other, he fucks you dumb till the dawn.

You are not unaware of Seungcheol's hostility towards you. He thinks of you as nothing but a gold digger, a ruthless woman who wouldn't hesitate to trample people if they come the way of something you wanna achieve.

It's already been three months since you both got married. Three month of you chasing Seungcheol and him pushing you away.

When you, every morning take your sweet time in his walk-in closet only to select an attire he'd wear for the day, he later would unabashedly walk out wearing an entirely different outfit.

You can't cook to save your life but you wait for him, everyday at the table for breakfast but on spotting you, he walks out informing Ms. Oh he'd grab something on the way. But that didn't stop you. Nowadays you grab his arm forcefully and take him to the table, pester him until he gives up and eats the breakfast that's served.

He never spends the night with you in the sheets. Even though you're begging, he pads out of your room as soon as he's done.

You never miss to say the 'I love Yous' everytime he walks out of the door.

And you believe someday he'd say it back.

You take a deep breath as you arrive at the Choi mansion. It's kind of a ritual for the Choi's to hold a family dinner at least once every month. The last two times were kinda awkward but manageable.

But this time you're a lot hesitant because unlike for the last time, Seungcheol's father would be present and you're still thinking of making an excuse to skip it. But you also know Seungcheol looks forward to it a lot because it's not like he gets to spend a lot of time with this parents. Their busy schedules allow only a limited amount of time for togetherness and the three of them put every effort to make it happen.

"Welcome my sweethearts!", your mother in law coos as she embraces you both.

Seungcheol has noticed how stiff you go around his mother all the time now. Doesn't click, because when you both dated you and his mother got along really well. He wonders what could have happened.

His father walks out to recieve you both and Seungcheol suddenly feels a strong grip around his arms. He looks to find you sticking closer to him, your eyes unsure as his father approaches you both. He finds it odd. But again he knows his father and you never got along since the old days. It was mostly his father, who didn't let go if any chance to express his disliking towards you.

The dinner proceeds with horrible awkwardness. It's mostly the son catching up with his parents. You just sit quietly only giving short answers if asked anything. Your appetite is long gone.

"I have packed some dinner for Wonwoo.", his mother says, "and asked him to come and get it. That boy never joins us even though he drives you here everytime.", she says disappointed.

"Mom, that's how he is.", Seungcheol adds light heartedly.

"How are things going with your music academy?", Mr. Choi asks you and waits for you to speak with undivided attention.

"It's going to be hectic since it's gonna be the competition season soon.", you answer curtly.

"Are you going to participate or perform in any of the events?", Mrs. Choi asks.

"In a couple of them.", you say smiling at her.

You're heaving a sigh of relief as you walk out of the mansion to get some fresh air. Meanwhile, Seungcheol is bidding goodbyes to his parents. You don't think it's ever gonna get easy.

"I hope you're treating her well, son.", Mrs. Choi says with an undertone.

Seungcheol just looks at her in disbelief before speaking, "Are you being serious? That woman had broke me apart and you want me to treat her right?", he hisses, "No, sorry, I can't and I won't."

His mother sighs, "She is the one for you, Cheol. Make things right while you still have a chance. Don't do anything that you'll regret later."

"Mom, why--"

"Because there are things you might be unaware of. You don't know what the person on the other end might have gone through.", she smiles sadly, "Marriages are not meant for revenge, not when you both have feelings for each other."

Seungcheol laughs, "Feelings? I hate her mom!"

"You hate her because you have those feelings entangled in your heart, all in your head.", she pats his arms, "Otherwise it's been years Cheol, if there are no such feelings involved, you should been apathetic towards her."

Seungcheol knows he lost the debate then and there. But he's ready, to stab the knife and twist it. He has been preparing to suck out your soul hollow.

"You didn't have to come here, I know I make you uncomfortable."

You don't move on hearing the voice. You just keep looking ahead.

"I'm sure you must be happy, Mr. Choi.", your lips curl up slightly, "We aren't making any progress, he still hates me the same."

Mr. Choi chuckles bitterly, "Nothing I do would make you forgive me but I'm sorry. I'm really ashamed for what I had done--"

You hold your hand up to stop him and turn to look at him, "It's all meaningless and I know you don't mean a thing you say. All I could hope is that this time you don't interfere in our relationship"

You're walking out before he could speak further. When you get home, Seungcheol finds it odd once again when you don't try to initiate any conversation with him but rather go straight to your room, closing the door shut.

"Is it that bad?", you ask in a small voice, "Sorry, but this is all I could come up with."

There's no response from the other end. You think you might cry because the expression on Seungkwan's face, you're sure can't be of something good.

You get up embarassed, "We don't have enough time to create something else. I think you should ask someone else or take my name out the competition. I'm really sorry."

Then you're turning back to walk out of the room.

"I have never heard of anything this good.", comes Seungkwan's stern voice.

And the next few moments go by you chasing him and him running, screaming around in the hall to save his life.

"Aashole, I'm not taking part anymore", you say catching your breathe, "I'm done with you."

"You are not, honey.", he sits on a chair and says, "I heard you've taken a bunch of invitations out this time. Is it what I'm guessing?"

"Yeah. I'm going to invite Seungcheol, his parents, Wonwoo and some more people.", you deflate instantly, "Though, I'm assuming none of them would be attending."

Seungkwan chooses silence because he has nothing but some mere words of consolation to offer.

"I'm going have lunch with Seungcheol today, I'll give him the invitation card then."

"Okay ma'am! See you in the evening?", he asks, you nod.

Ridiculous or not, this is the first time you are visiting the Choi enterprise after your marriage. The staff are greeting you throughout, offering to guide you to Seungcheol's office but you had already texted Wonwoo and he diligently waits for you at the reception.

Something's off, you can sense it from Wonwoo's demeanor. He's not as bitchy as he generally is. When you're out of the elevator, he says, "The last cabin on the hallway."

You acknowledge and pull out an invitation card. He's surprised when give it him saying, "I hope you'll come to watch."

Wonwoo in turn surprises you with his respond, "Sure, I'll be there."

You gape at him but defer yourself from asking, not wanting to probe further.

"He doesn't have any meetings scheduled for the next two hours right?"

"No he doesn't and this is the time he usually has lunch."

"Ok thanks.", you excuse yourself and walk to his cabin door. You take a deep breath, anxious because Seungcheol doesn't know about your visit yet and you're not sure how he'd react.

You knock at his door and hear a faint come in. Sliding the handle you're met with an unpleasant sight.

Rather an unpleasant person, Jiah almost hovering over your husband. Seungcheol's brows cock at your unannounced presence.

"What are you doing here?", Jiah asks and you stand over crossing your arms. The response never comes.

"I asked what the hell are you doing here? Who gave you the permission to come here?"

You take out your phone and click a photo of both of them at such an angel which looks a lot more compromising than it actually is.

"What are you doing?", Seungcheol asks but you ignore him.

"Out.", you say glaring at Jiah.

"You are bold to assume I'd listen to you.", Jiah scoffs.

"So you'd listen to Seungcheol then.", you say smiling and look at your husband, "Tell her to get out of here."

Seungcheol generally is unbothered but something in your aura is scaring is him today. He knows of your anger and he wonders what could happen if you're ticked off.

"Jiah, leave.", Seungcheol commands and Jiah looks at him as if betrayed.

"Heard it, now get lost.", you say while approaching her. Jiah instantly gets the flashback of her getting slapped by you on your wedding day. She gets a shiver through her spine and she's almost scurrying out.

"You had done something to her, haven't you?", Seungcheol asks you, "I think I just now saw terror in her eyes."

"Doesn't concern you.", you snark at him.

"Why did you take that picture?", he asks again.

You lips curls up in a cold smile and Seungcheol for some reason feels petrified, "Oh this", you hold out your phone for him to see the picture you took, "If she stayed, I would have sent this to the media. And I'm not sure how'd your companies handle the reputation damage."

Seungcheol is rendered speechless because he knows you can be cynical at times.

"Let's have lunch after that you'll take the medicine and then we'll head home.", you say, "Or do you wanna go home first?"

Seungcheol gives you an incredulous look, "What nonsense are you blabbering? Why would I go home now?"

You return him a sharp look, "Because you're having a splitting headache."

Your husband is once again, rendered speechless. He gulps once, blinks twice and asks, "H-How did you know?"

"Does that even matter?", you say getting up, "Your eyes are red, you're biting your lips every two seconds and your legs, you're continuously tapping them."

While Seungcheol gapes at you, you're calling Wonwoo.

"Does he have any important meetings today?", you ask, "No, actually, can all the meetings be rescheduled to some other day?"

Seungcheol doesn't get to hear Wonwoo's response but he watches as the creases on your face flats out in relief.

"Thanks, please reschedule them and also could you please pull out the car? We'll be heading home now.", you tell him, "No need to come up here, I'll bring him with me."

And you're making another call.

"I won't be going back to the academy, please reschedule my classes.", you inform. Seungcheol listens to your side of conversation carefully, "Yes, with my husband.", then you're nodding your head, "Sounds good. Thanks a lot."

Suddenly Seungcheol becomes an obedient man. He let's you grab his coat and briefcase. He also let's you take his hand and guide through his entire office.

Throughout the way, anyone who comes across you both, coos in amazement. The way you're carefully treading your way holding your husband and the way your husband's eyes are only on you is enciting. Pictures are being taken, praises are being whispered.

On the way to home, you call Ms. Oh, instructing her to cook something light but definitely not bland because Seungcheol won't even touch it at the sight.

When Seungcheol comes to the dining table after washing up, he finds you waiting for him. He's surprised at himself because he doesn't deter you when you're holding the spoon to his mouth. He eats all of it without uttering a word. When you're handing him the glass of water, he waits for you to hand him the medicine. When you take him to his bedroom, he lays down, subtly towards the inner side leaving you space to sit.

He is discreetly grabbing the corner of your dress when you massage his head. He hopes that his grip doesn't loosen when he falls asleep. And he feels your lips gently grazing his forehead as he falls asleep.

Seungcheol might be surprised at his own behaviour but you're definitely not. You know your husband becomes unhinged clingy whenever he feels unwell so if tonight he goes back to his asshole behaviour, you'd surmise that he has recovered.

The next day, when Seungcheol is getting ready for office, you walk into the room already dressed up and before he could scold you're handing him the invitation card.

"I had visited your office yesterday with the purpose of giving you this invitation card.", you smile, "There's a competition and I'm gonna perform. It's in a month later, so please clear your schedules ahead. I hope you'd come."

You are already dejected because you're sure he won't be attending but there's still a silver lining in your heart which makes you think he might come and watch you perform.

While Seungcheol takes a look at the card, you are rushing out saying him bye.

The dining table is empty but Seungcheol sits trying to simmer down his curiousity but ultimately fails.

"Did she already have breakfast?", he asks Ms. Oh.

"No", she answers with concern, "When I asked her, she said something about having classes throughout the day, because she couldn't take those yesterday. Also, she said she'd be returning late at night."

"Her phone has been ringing since early morning", she adds, "She was waiting for you get up so she could give you the invitation card.", a smile spreads across her lips, "She gave one to me as well."

Seungcheol knows your dedication towards music and he is aware that the academy is your lifeline.

You had to skip breakfast and now that you have another set of classes lined up, you are running on heels to grab quick lunch. The competition season are meant to be hectic for the tutees as well as the mentors. And you being the only one with Cello being the instrument it's getting tougher.

It's 2 at night when you are finally done with the classes as well the paperwork. You check your phone and among the enormous amount of calls and texts your mood deflates when none of them belonged to Seungcheol. What did you expect? He's probably happy with you off his tail. You're not sure why but suddenly you think it's better to stay the night at the academy to avoid the hassle. You've pulled this before as well and it's convenient when you have to take early classes.

It's not like anyone is waiting for you at home.

This goes on for the whole week. You barely get to spend time at home. Early mornings you would sneak into your husband's room whom you dearly miss, just to catch a glimpse of his pretty face while he's asleep. And it becomes a habit, you press a soft kiss on his forehead each time carefully because he's light sleeper.

Despite knowing everything, despite of the hectic schedule Seungcheol is pulling you in for another event. Even though you tried to decline he's not listening. So here you are in another event that is making you sick.

You catch a breathe when you spot Eunsoo attending the same event.

"I barely see you these days", she says leaning against you.

"Only the people in the academy see me all the time.", you gruff, "I'm already so tired and now I had to attend this event."

"Seungcheol won't let you catch you a breathe.", Eunsoo laments, "How are you both doing? Any progress made?"

You sigh wishfully, "I really wish. Though he doesn't scowl as soon as I come in the periphery of his vision, he still can't quite tolerate me."

"Have you ever thought of telling him the truth?", Eunsoo asks.

"It will beat the purpose of hiding it at first place itself.", you say as you look at your husband talking with which you assume is a business partner, "It would hurt him a thousand times more than it did. It's for his sake."

"What if he doesn't change? How long are you going to keep on trying?"

The question falls on you like a bucket of ice cold water.

As long as your heart prevails, you think.

"What are your plans for Tuesday?", Eunsoo cocks her brows comically, "Can we meet atleast?"

"Honestly, I wanna catch a breathe.", you say tiredly, "But you all won't let me do that."

"It's your birthday bitch, stop being a granny.", Eunsoo rolls her eyes, "I'm not sure whether your dickhead husband knows it or not, we won't let you mop over him."

Your heart hurts. Ofcourse Seungcheol remembers but he won't acknowledge it as for you know.

"I have made a prior appointment so you can't cancel on us", she tugs at your arm.

"Ok fine, anyways I have taken the day off.", you say, "But let's spend it at Mingyu's house. Also, nothing too fancy please."

"Noted Ma'am. I'll go catch up with Miyeon.", she says and leans in to whisper in your ear, "Your husband is literally undressing you with his eyes, gross.", and then she walks away.

You do everything to passtime but never once look at Seungcheol. Because whenever you've swept your gaze it's always some random lady trying to leech onto your husband and him never ushering them away. You know he's doing it on purpose just to irk you but for the past few days it's getting to you.

Like now, your presence feels like a joke.

Blame it on exhaustion, blame it on lovesickness, there are tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

And that's why you're standing at the balcony of a deserted area frantically wiping your eyes and cheeks. Seungcheol wouldn't even notice if you're gone, that thought itself brings another bout of fresh tears to your eyes.

As the cool breeze grazes your face and arms, your mind lingers back to the past few months since you've been married. When you were mentally preparing nerve will to get back Seungcheol, he was also equally preparing to get back to you.

You might have underestimated Seungcheol's pettiness. You might be questioning your determination now.

"What are you doing here?", you are wiping your tears once again upon hearing Seungcheol's voice.

"Nothing much.", you say dismissively, "I think I'm gonna head out now. You can stay, no need to be bothered."

As you're walking out, a strong grip makes you halt in steps.

"Let's leave.", he says when you look at him before walking out of the venue hand in hand. The ride back to home is heavy. It sits on your chest.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Seungcheol.", your voice cracks, "You know me all too well, you know how to throw a jab. But this is me trying."

Seungcheol is skeptical, about you, about everything you say, not his fault, you have made him the man he is today.

"I know you love to win.", your blootshot eyes look at him, but they hold so much grievance within them, "I might as well let you win this time."

The door shut echos throughout the house, just as your words echoes in Seungcheol's head.

"Isn't that Wonwoo?", you squint your eyes one more before confirming.

"Wonwoo!", you call him out and the later get startled and once spotting you freezes on spot.

A tutee you have been mentoring has her mother admitted in the hospital whom you've been visiting regularly.

"What are you doing here?", you ask him and notice his dilated pupil.

"Are you okay--"

"Mr. Jeon", you see a doctor standing beside him say, "Your brother's condition has deteriorated and if we delay the surgery it will cause more implications.", his voice turns grimer,"The reports don't look good, please let us know your decision as soon as possible."

Wonwoo collapses on the floor as soon as the doctor leaves.

"Oh my god, Wonwoo!", you hold him, make sit on the chair and bring him a glass of water.

You panic when the man in front of you suddenly bursts into tears. With no idea what's happening, how to console him, you watch him quietly as he pours his heart out.

Once he calms down, you take him to the nearby cafe. Wonwoo isn't a guy of many words so as expected he's keeping his mouth shut when you ask him. Bonus, you know he hates you.

When you almost threaten him with digging information yourself and calling Seungcheol, he pleads you not to do so. That's when you come to know that his brother has been suffering from a rare disease and has been hospitalized since last three years. Seungcheol knows about this and has already been paying Wonwoo generously so he could cover the bills. But his brother needs a series of surgeries which would cost a lot more and what's more devastating is it doesn't even ensure recovery.

"Have you talked to Seungcheol about this?"

Wonwoo vigorously shakes his head, "He has already been paying me a lot more than promised. I can't leech of him."

"He's not only your employer, Seungcheol's your friend as well.", you tell him, "Fine you don't have to ask him, how much do you need?"

His eyes go wide and he thinks he has misheard.

You are smiling when you place your hand upon on his on the table affirmingly, "Let me help you please. I know you don't consider me as a friend, but I do."

"No. Never. I shouldn't--"

"It's not for free.", you say and Wonwoo gulps nervously.

"Y/N, please. I can't take help from you. I won't be able to repay you."

"Then I'm telling Seungcheol--"

"Ok fine.", Wonwoo says hesitantly, "Please tell me how I could repay you?"

You smile mischievously, "Well for the starters you can stop being a bitch to me."

Wonwoo gapes at you and when laughs when he finally gets the joke.

"Thanks Y/N. I'll be forever indebted to you."

"Wonseok will be recover soon."

He nods, "Hopefully.", he's a little hesitant but thinks that there's never a right time more than this to bring this up.

He takes a deep breath and asks, "I overheard your conversation with Mr. Choi that night at the mansion."

He watches you freeze.

"I think it has something to do with.....", he doesn't speak it out and continues cautiously, "I might sound rude, but please tell me all of it because no matter how much I think about it now, it's not making sense."

You're hot on heels. You think you should immediately run away but that was never an option so it isn't as now.

"I'll tell you", you say fumbling with your fingers, "but first promise that you won't tell Seungcheol."

"Are the papers ready?", Seungcheol asks Jiah while going through some documents on his laptop.

Jiah's ear to ear grin says it all. She fishes out a file from her bag and hands it over to Seungcheol.

"What will happen if I take her lifeline away from her?", a sinisteric smile splits across his lips. His disgust, pettiness and hatred towards you have only curved into a humungous ball ever since he saw you again.

He hates when you claim to be his wife, he hates when you act as if the betrayal never happened, he hates the sight of you. So he has been waiting. Waiting for the right time to break your bones.

He wants nothing but for you to have the taste of your own poison.

"When are you planning to strike the hammer?", Jiah asks excitedly.

Seungcheol smirks, gazes at the pages of the flat open file, "This is gonna be interesting. The more buildup, the more pain. I'll be the one to nail the coffin, when the time is right."

He's already imagining your deserted state and the rush he's feeling through his body is impeccable.

He checks the calendar and your birthday pops up. Let it be the start, he plots.

Tuesday rolls in a blink of an eye with you currently groaning because your phone keeps on ringing disrupting your long planned sleep schedule.

"Mom", you grumble into the phone, "Let me sleep..."

"Happy Birthday to our precious!", you hear both your parents wish from the other end, "I'll be making all your favourite food, please come soon. Your dad has even baked your favourite cookies", you hear some rumbles before she continues, "and burnt his hands in the process."

You are not surprised, not at all.

"I'll be there in an hour.", you inform, "I have plans with my friends as well."

"And what about Seungcheol?", your father asks and you're quick to dismiss it.

Battling the urge to sleep for the whole day, you finally separate yourself from your bed. You have your whole day planned ahead and not a thing in it includes Seungcheol.

Before you could stow away, Ms. Oh catches you, making you drink the seaweed soup. You gulp down the delicious soup while your brother, who's out the country for attending yet another business matter facetimes you.

The day goes by you getting pampered by your parents who don't let you leave until it's Eunsoo, Mingyu & Seungkwan who physically had to barge into your parents house to take you away.

You are pleasantly surprised to see Wonwoo already waiting for you by the car.

"He's a gang member now.", Mingyu declares happily.

Another round of cake cutting and recieving gifts before you all catch up and drink to wash away the worries of life. Every time your phone dinges, you anticipate it to be from the one who hogs your mind but it's never him.

You decided to call it a night, thanking your friends happily and bidding them farewell as Wonwoo who on purpose kept low on drinking to drive you back home.

It's almost 11, you check the time while entering. You are crossing the hallway when you notice something on the centre table, a 3 tier red velvet cake sitting on it. Not trying to mind it, you are beelining towards your bedroom when you Seungcheol walks out of it.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N.", he wishes you with crescent eyes and toothy smile which makes you think you had one too many drinks so now you're hallucinating.

It's not until Seungcheol holds your hands, you snap of it.

"We've still got sometime until it's midnight", he then turns you back to hallway, "Let's cut the cake."

You push all the brewing questions at the back of your mind. For once you want to be happy without thinking of causes or consequences.

When you cut the cake, Seungcheol sings the birthday song. He makes you take a bite of your favourite cake before you could feed him. He brushes the cream off his fingers onto your cheeks and nose. Just like the old days, when you both dated.

The music starts all of a sudden and he's taking your hands. Your feet dance perfectly to the rhythm because you both have done this before, for many times.

As your heart soars, you try to blink away the tears. But also, unknowingly you're falling into your husband's woven webs of opacity.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

1K notes · View notes

anakinsdove · 19 days

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞 «𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐»

pairing: sam monroe x older!fem!reader

summary: it's been like what? 6 years since you saw sammy, he's still as weird as he used to be, only prettier. After seeing him again you notice there some tension that wasn't there before.

C/W: nsfw, fluff, loser Sammy, riding, tit sucking, lose of virginity (sam’s) subby!sam

discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 1-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 2,149

“Come to my room at 2:00 AM” Your voice echoes in his mind… he swears time is passing slower that it’s meant to because god’s teasing him and also, he has never hate James as much as he does in this moment, he doesnt show signs of being sleepy and its already 12:00 AM, if he’s not asleep by 2:00 AM he’s gonna lose his fucking chance to be with you, it’s probably the only chance he’ll ever get… and he really really wants to be with you… ever since he heard Josh Dickens gave you a kiss in elementary school because fuck… that had to be him

When you kicked Matt because he pushed him, then Matt pulled your pigtails and made you cry so he brought you a muffin his mom baked as in sincere thank you for defending him… He’s been in love with you since forever, even when you went away, soon his morning woods were because of the sex dreams of you and not the models in his dirty magazines, You you You, you….

And when you knelt down in front of him and unbuckled his belt expertly he knew it was over for him, you were his and he’ll do whatever you wanted him to do, fuck he hated himself for cumming so soon, because that moment could’ve last longer, he hated himself because he wanted to go again but he was so sensitive… the way your teeth gently grazed his cock-

“Dude! Are you serious?” James yelled and his face goes pale, can James read his mind suddenly? “You’re hard” Sam panicked and covered himself with a pillow “Fuck off!” James rolls his eyes and goes back to his game… Sam can’t take this anymore, he stands up and goes to the bathroom, your room is right down the hall, it looks so tempting yet so scary at the same time.. before he can stop himself hes standing at your door where he can take a peak of you, he knows it’s not 2:00 AM yet, and he doesn’t want you to think he can’t follow basic instructions but… fuck…he imagines your voice calling for him, telling him you need him, to please you, to fuck you, to take you so fucking good, to tell him you need him right between your legs… he imagines your taste, your thighs suffocating him but he wouldn’t mind… he would’ve never mind.

He watches your toy with the cord of the phone as you talk about to someone on the phone, he wonders who it is… one of your friends? Your ex? The next boy you’re going to fuck after you ruin him tonight?… and again before he can stop it his hand is down his pants as he grips his hard on… painfully hard til he releases as shaky breath… now your voice sounds incomprehensible, he observes your chest rise and fall with every breathe you take, the way you’re laughing at someone’s voice and the way you kick your feet in such a girly way, he smiles…

He’s a pervert, he knows it but he doesn’t really mind right now, your pajamas shorts are so sexy to him, the fabric looks so delicate, fragile, like he could tear them apart and slide his cock right between your folds, all puffy and wet for him… he bangs his head against the wall and bites his lip hard to suppress a moan, his hand moves up and down at a fast peace, he knows he doesn’t have much time

He’s so close, so so close, just like the loser he is he’s always close and his hips chase his hand desperately, his brow furrowed as he breathes heavily against the wall

Then you make eye contact with him

His eyes squeezed shut when he came, he just ruined his only pair of boxers and his hand is sticky as fuck…. And he hears your step getting closer…

“Oh Sammy..” your voice is condescending as you eye him up cutely… when suddenly you close the door, leaving him outside like a dog in heat, Sam squeezes his eyes again in embarrassment as he runs to the bathroom to clean up himself.

1:39 AM

James seems to be about to go to sleep, that’s a good thing for sure, it finally looks like he’s about to get what he desperately needs, yet… he seems to be confused by your hot and awkward interaction, were you just teasing him? Or it meant something more? You looked at him like you finally realized he’s a loser who doesn’t deserve to fuck you… but maybe you didn’t, maybe you were just being cocky about finding him that position… with his fucking hand under his pants, any girl would’ve thrown him out, beat him up, but you didn’t… he knows he deserves it but you didn’t… he feels more and more head over heels as he thinks about all the possible out comes tonight has.

He’s outside your door again at 1:58 AM, waiting impatiently as the clock tickling mocks him, it certainly feels like it… he doesn’t know whether he should knock now or wait two more minutes… however you put his mind at ease when you suddenly open the door and pull him inside.

“Just in time” your breathless tone makes his toes curl

“Really-“ your lips press into his, this is something you could call a kiss, is intense, it’s everything both of you need it to be… his greedy hands grips your boobs like any stupid boy would do, you think he’s bold for doing this tho.

“Feeling confident aren’t you?” And well his confidence is definitely gone now at your mean words, spat like venom, he wants more of that… “You want me…. As much as I want you” his voice doesn’t so sure

“Ok and?” You kiss him again guiding him towards your bed, the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls down with you ok top of him, this time his hands rest on your waist, not daring to touch anywhere else just yet.

“…Sam…..” Oh fuck she’s regretting it “You’re absolutely sure you want to do this with me? I get it if you’d want to wait for the right girl” You’re the right gir! It’s fucking you! It always has been! “Positive” You grin at his words and just like you did a few hours ago you decide to go for his neck again… the hickeys you gave him are still there, he’s surprised James didn’t even notice… any one would’ve pieced it instantly… his breathe heaves “I’m gonna take off your shirt” he sits up so you can do whatever you want to him… “Sam…” “Huh?” “You can take my clothes off too…” he nods shakily as he exhales, everything feels like a very complex task right now… he takes the hem of your shirt thank top and lifts it off your body, he takes a moment to admire your skin, any marks, moles, scars, he wants to remember this moment, to keep it engraved in his mind, because this might be the last time.

“Do you know how to undo my bra?” His silence gives it away “It’s okay let me just-“ Your breast mesmerize him that’s for sure, he’s instantly attracted to them as his hands touch your soft skin, his thumbs grazing your nipples softly “You’re so fucking pretty” he breathes out “Yeah?” “So fucking perfect” his words are genuine… you know it, something shifts inside you like a switch that tells you Make it special and you will… “You’re so prettty Sam…” his brows furrowed and his mouth falls open as he sees your hands toying with his belt again… all over again.

You successfully remove his pants and realize his shirt is still on… “You wanna take that off?” Sam nods, you never take your gaze away from him, he’s pale, his skin looks very smooth regardless, his collarbones are prominent, he’s beautiful.. you can’t help it but touch his piercing in his chin.

“Does this hurt?” He chuckles… “No, not really” “Reaaaally? Or were you just really brave about it?” You tickle his ribs, his boyish giggle fills your ears and that sound will be forever engraved in your mind… this won’t be a random hookup, this is more than that, and even if that thought scares you you decide to push it to the back of your mind for now… wait he’s also wearing eyeliner it looks so good with his already smudge eyeshadow

“Okay… uh… do you want me to ride you?” YES YES YES yet he just nods impatiently, he wouldn’t want to miss the chance of you bouncing on his cock, breaking his legs as he sucks on your gorgeous tits, you already suck his soul out, so why not also break his legs.

You remove your panties and his boxers… Sam touches the bow on your panties to confirm you’re real and this is happening, his gaze follows your body from your pussy to you eyes “It’s okay… I don’t care if you don’t last long, I want you to enjoy this” you’re an angel sent from heaven

“Im-I’m gonna put it in” you hover over him and your nails graze his tip deliciously, he lays back on your pillows

And when you slide it in….

“Fuck!” His legs tremble and you whine, he’s big he’s so fucking big…. Why’s this loser so fucking big? Sam hisses as he lays back, throwing his head back Fuck fuck fuck why is she so fucking warm he breathes heavily as he squirms, his brows furrow prettily “it’s okay Sam…. It’s okay breathe baby” “You’re so fucking wet!” “Yes Sammy… so fucking wet, does it feel good?” He nodds, his eyes are still closed, his hands grip your thighs desperately… you think he might make himself bleed with how hard he’s biting his lip… you decide to put his hands to use and guide them to your tits.

Sam grips them instantly as you roll your head back, “I’m gonna start moving okay?” “I’m not gonna last..” you roll your eyes and start grinding against him, your clit rubs deliciously against his pubes… he sits up, his hands go straight to grip your ass guiding you up and down… fine… you start bouncing… bouncing on his cock like he always dreamed of, your fucking pussy is so tight.

Sam breathes heavily against your chest, you tits in full display to him, he can’t help himself, he just can’t, they’re bouncing right in front of his face as your hips ride him expertly, his lips latch to your nipple and he manhandles your other boob… you hate to admit it but that sight is doing more for you than you can explain… you cry out and your fingers travel down to your pussy as you rub you clit fastly and uncoordinated, you know he’s close and you want to cum with him

“Sam! S-Sam fuck fuck-“ he removes your hand and rubs your clit himself, his touch is too rough, almost painful yet heavenly, his eyes are scrunched tightly, his mouth falls open releasing your nipple, his moans are no longer muffled, they’re loud, they’re so fucking loud, his hands attempt to help you ride him faster and then you see it

He’s crying

It’s so intense it’s so fucking intense, the type of pleasure his hand could never provide him, no matter how much lube he uses… what he’s fucking- it’s just not… and he’s a mess, he’s sweating and his cheap eyeliner is running down his cheeks

“Yes Sammy.. c-cum for me.. I can feel you’re close- you’re fucking pulsating inside me!”

the pressure building in his belly snaps and it’s all fireworks and stars flashing behind his eyes… his belly twitches as he fills you up “Ah.. Ah! Yes!” You’re not far behind him… your orgasm is powerful, it’s gonna leave you shaking… sam spasms as you keep riding him just a little more.. his eyes open when you collapse on top of him.

“Oh my fucking god” Sam laughs and you wonder what’s so funny “W-what?” “People do this everyday?” He looks dreamy as he pushes your hair behind your ear “I guess…” you giggle “I thought you were trying to kill me…” he laughs “I was” “Yeah?” “Wanted to see how much you can take-“ he interrupts you with a kiss

“What was that for?” “Well we just made love” Sam’s says sarcastically “made love?” You laughs at his cute explanation “You just fucked the shit out of me…” “And your soul out of you..” “Yeah… that too” Sam smiles brightly “Are you okay?” You ask him he can only nod, he’s so happy.

“So… what if now…. I just cuddle the shit out of you?”

dividers - @i92-93

#sam monroe x you #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe hayden christensen #sam monroe life as a house #hayden christensen characters #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #life as a house movie

426 notes · View notes

bunnyhugs77 · 4 months

Text

Honey I'm Home

୨୧- Just a little slice of life of a hard working dad, his tired wife and their twin girls.

୨୧ WC: 900

Jungkook pushes open the door to your small two-bedroom flat, his keys jingling in the door which attracted the two little girls on the other side to come running instantly.

The soft patter of their socked feet hitting the wooden floors as they rushed to his as fast as they could. "Daddy!" The girls squealed. Jungkook crouched down, his once drained expression replaced with one full of delight.

"Girls!" He exclaims, taking the both of them in each of his arms, listening to their adorable laughter as he engulfed them into his tight embrace. "Daddy! Can't breathe!" Aria squeaks from where her head rested against his chest. Always the dramatic one of the two.

Jungkook laughs, apologizing and letting them go. Aria runs back to the kitchen where he could only assume the source of that flavourful scent was coming from. Meanwhile Hye-Ji stayed back to show him the flowers she'd picked just for him.

"Are these for me?" Bending at the waist to collect the crushed dandelions that were once in the grip of her fist. She nods with the brightest smile he's ever seen.

Picking her up as well, letting her rest on his side with one hand, careful not to ruffle the very elaborate princess dress she was wearing as he finally begins to make his way to the kitchen. "Thank you so much princess, I'll make sure to add this to my collection." He places a kiss to the crown of her head.

There you were. His eyes seemed to soften once they landed on you. In a button up and your favourite pair of mom jeans." Hi baby," He gets the chance to peck your lips briefly before Hye-Ji was asking to be put down.

She quickly ran off to her sister in the living room where there were colouring pages ripped out, building blocks all over the place, a box of crayons in the laundry bin full of clothes that were waiting to be folded.

"Hi." You manage a smile before resuming your blank stare into the pot of tomato sauce for the spaghetti that you'd been stirring for god knows how long. "Is everything okay?" Disregarding your mundane 'yeah' he know something is up.

"Honey, what's wrong? Talk to me." You sigh, dropping your shoulders, finally looking at him. He was in his typical work-wear for his day job as a private banker meanwhile he works part-time nights as a mail courier.

"Today was a bad day." Letting your head fall into your husband's firm chest in defeat. His hands raised to hold you in his arms the same way the have been for the last 5 years.

The shiny silver band of his wedding ring catching the light for a moment as he gently rubbed your back. "You wanna talk about it?"

You pout softly, "There's nothing to say, look at the state of the house. Hye-Ji turned the house upside down looking for her dress this morning. Then I took them to the grocery store and Aria got lost." Jungkook's eyebrows raise, but you weren't done.

"I finally got them to sleep for an hour while I did some laundry, and then I ended up falling asleep myself, waking up to crayons and toys everywhere, and Hye-Ji was crying because she missed you and then I started crying because I missed you too and-"

You couldn't believe this was making you tear up. The day was hectic and the fact you'd have to do it all over again tomorrow. Jungkook hushes you in a comforting manner, practically swaddling you in his arms. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here," you sniffle, stepping back.

"It's not your fault. You work two jobs. it's just hard sometimes." You admit and Jungkook gets an idea. "Go." He says and your brow arches, "I'll finish dinner, and take care of the girls. Go rest, or read that Jasper Wilde book you've been wanting to read. Please. Let me help, you deserve it." He pecks your forehead and you weren't going to fight him on it.

Leaving the kitchen and the responsibilities to him. Telling yourself that it would only be a thirty minute nap but it turned into 2 hours. By the time you walked back into the kitchen, it looked like you'd walked into a whole new house.

Everything was neat and tidy, the girls were sitting on the ground with a bowl of abandoned grapes shared between them as they watched Moana with an entranced gaze.

The laundry basket was gone, the floors were clean and the air smelled of soft fresh linens and cinnamon. Looking back to the kitchen where Jungkook quietly tidied up, humming softly to himself. You stood hidden from where you were admiring your little family.

You may not have had much but you had everything you needed right here. "You're amazing you know that?" Jungkook says as you approached him. "I should be saying that to you." You counter.

"No. I mean it, Y/n. Having two jobs is easy, but doing what you do everyday is a job for a saint. I appreciate everything you do for us, I love you so much." His lips pressing against your forehead while your heart felt so full of love. "I love you." You say.

"I have to potty!" Aria declares and the both of you look at each other.

"Not it."

#jungkook smut #jungkook #bts #jungkook ff #bts one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic recs #fluff #drabble

846 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 3 months

Text

Small World Pt 2

Summary - After discovering you and Azriel share much more than a mating bond, your relationship grows stronger as tensions between you and your aunt seem to grow higher.

Warnings - implied emotional and mental abuse, second child syndrome in a not good way, we find out Nyx is an asshole, unrequited love, slight smut, use of daddy

A/n - a potentially cliff hanger ending because I haven't decided 100% how this ends

Peep Part 1 Here 💙

Azriel stared at the dress box sitting on Rhysand's desk and nicely folded Illyrian leathers. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn them. The last time he had used a siphon. The leathers were fitted for 7, something Azriel immediately knew would no longer work.

His powers after removing the precious stones had gone wild. His shadows were different now. They were more aware, able to span wider distances, and able to recruit more shadows into his network to join them.

He had spent 5 years alone meditating and learning even more control over them, over what they could do, over how deadly they actually could be.

7 siphons would not be enough.

And he didn't understand how Rhysand did not see that.

He finally spoke, gesturing to the box. "What is this?"

Rhys was settled in his chair, trying to maintain his composure as Cassian stood near the bookshelf to mediate if needed. "We're going to the Court of Nightmares. My daughter's engagement has spread like wildfire, and dear Keir wants to host a party in her honor."

A breathy chuckle left Azriel's lips before he could stop it. "So my fiancée will be dressed like a goddess while I am in leathers at a party to mock us?"

Cassian shifted slightly. "We've always worn leathers to Hewn City, Az. It's to honor our heritage." Rhys just inclined his head to Cassian and nodded. "Y/n wears leathers."

"She has never worn a single set in the 2 years we've been together. There isn't even a set in her closet."

"There's several sets in her closet here," Rhys said quietly. "All set up for pink siphons. 14 of them." Cassian and Azriel couldn't help their chuckles. "Imagine a blonde Illyrian with pink siphons, Azriel, its quite the sight." Rhys smiled fondly, eyes glimmering with pride despite everything. "She's-" he looked up, searching for the perfect word for his daughter. "She's my everything. And I've done a horrible job showing her that."

Azriel sucked in a deep breath. "I won't mediate this, Rhys. This is a you two thing. Not an us three thing."

Azriel knew now why you were estranged from your family. Nyx was their golden child. Constantly praised, admired, in the spotlight. He was, and still is, their reminder of how they had almost died to pass along their love. He could do no wrong, never be wrong, and was treated as such.

You, on the other hand, were the second child. The significantly younger one Nyx learned to plant blame on and watch as you were scolded and seen as "the problem" as you had told him you were now addressed as in Hewn City and Illyria. You had been raised by Ness more than Feyre and Rhys, passed off to them until your powers bloomed at 16, and suddenly your father found you interesting again. With a lack of a spymaster, he exploited you, forcing you to touch people and feel their emotions, when they lied, their stories. Forcing you to live trauma over and over of females clipped in the mountains, of tortured traitors in dungeons, of Nesta's dark phase.

You locked your powers so far away one day, so deep inside you that even you hardly could access them unless you actually wanted to. It had been just before your 18th birthday that happened. And then the fight that sealed the casket happened. Rhys had verbally lashed you. Attacked you for refusing to let him use your "one worth" to keeping his family and court safe.

Your father had said he saw you as useless, and everyone else just stood by watching.

Like they had with Nesta.

Only you were just a child. Not a head strong warrior, a goddess in fae form.

You packed the basics and spent the night on the streets in a dark alley.

Even if you and Rhys magically fixed things, even if you forgave but not forgot, Azriel would never. How you were raised, how you've been treated, it forever will taint his vision of Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx. The abuse they unleashed on you, they'd never make up for.

Rhys nodded, eyes glancing to the doorway as footsteps approached. "I would never ask you to fix my relationship with her when I need to fix my relationship with you as well. I just need you to know I love her. That she will always be my girl."

"You have an odd way of showing her your lo-"

The door opened, and you stepped in, immediately going to Azriel's side and eyeing the box. "Dad. Cassian." You opened the lid and nodded. "Well. At least it's sparkly."

Rhys cocked his head. "You don't like it?"

Azriel watched as you paused. The bond flared with conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, longing. How long had it been since Rhys held you? Since he told you he loved you without you having to earn it. "No, I like it. I just know what this means. You never give me nice things unless Hewn City is involved." The last sentence trailed off quietly, and pain flooded the bond.

Rhys looked down, nodding as he scratched the stubble growing on his face. "I am sorry. I just-"

"Please don't. You never mean it." You grabbed the box. "I will wear it and find jewelry." You turned to Azriel. "Elain would like to speak with you. She said something about a garden you two planned together and how I'll never understand the love you two share. How it breaks bonds and shakes worlds."

The relationship between you and Azriel had been messy since dinner two weeks ago. You two had your first fight over, of course, Elain and her rekindled love, lust, whichever felt appropriate at the moment for Azriel. He ignored the constant letters, the random headache powders, the message coded flowers.

He had reached out to Lucien, asking the male what had happened. According to the new Lord of Day, Elain and he had tried for 5 years, but the damage had been done. Lucien didn't trust Elain, Elain spent most of their time comparing the two of them, and nothing Lucien gave her was enough. He had been the one to reject the bond, and after 7 years, he had found himself heavily involved in a relationship with a now fully fae Vassa and Jurian.

Rhys and Cassian both gave him gentle looks of concern as he held your hand, preventing you from walking away. He stared Rhys in the eyes, doing something he felt Rhysand had never done to prove a point. "I'd rather go home with you, so if you were planning on winnowing, we might as well go together." He picked you.

They watched as all tension left your body, as security eased into your face. "Then let's go home." Azriel grabbed the leathers, nodding to Rhys and Cassian before following you.

Azriel's elbow locked around your neck, hand squeezing your hip as he pinned you below him and continued taking you from behind. You both had no interest in heading to Hewn City, so you had distracted him, walking into your shared bedroom in just a pretty blue silk night gown offering to give your body to him for what he had done, the message he had sent.

You were supposed to be getting ready, but instead, Azriel was growling above you, pumping into you carelessly. Your toes curled at how deep he was hitting, at how good he felt, how good he felt every time. "So close," you whispered. "So fucking close-" You were moaning his name when the knock on the door came.

A shadow rushed to him, curling his ear as he paused. "It's Elain," he muttered. "She's relentless." You whined below him, hips wiggling to get friction back. "Baby,"

"Please," you begged. "It's been weeks, I've been so good, please, daddy."

Azriel felt his cock twitch at the use of the name. He'd longed for a moment to erase the memory of what happened, and you had just given it to him. He felt you moving your hips, doing the best you could while pinned to the mattress to fuck yourself on his cock.

You were his focus, the rest of the world melting away as he heard your moans turning into screams of his name. You sounded so pretty coming for him, crying for him, begging for more for less for everything as oversensitivity took over. You especially looked pretty dripping his seed when he pulled out of you. Once again, he had chosen you.

You two laid there, holding each other until claws came for both of you. Scratching angerly as your mental shields and causing you to bury your head into Azriel's chest. "We need to get ready unless you want him showing up here next," Azriel played with your hair, scratching your scalp lightly. "Let's see how many siphons I blow through."

After 2 sets of siphons being destroyed, you were currently dragging Azriel down the streets of Velaris and to your brother and father's tailor. You knew she'd be able to fit and dress him in seconds and that he'd look every bit handsome as he deserved. You were pissed when you saw he had been gifted Illyrian leathers and not a suit. Your father was out of touch with Azriel. With you.

"Helena," you smiled at the older female. "We need help."

Azriel felt stiff. Staring at the doors of Heen City as a shocked page boy ran to inform Rhys and Feyre of the late arrival. You two were about to upstage them in their own court. The guests of honor arriving late and being introduced after the Lord and his Lady.

You would have upstaged them by yourself anyway, though. Azriel admired you one more time. Rhys had picked well, though you both would never admit it. The dress had a see-through bodice of black lace and floral applicates with thin straps. It led to a satin skirt that was tight and then flared out to your hips. The left leg had a high slit, showing the toned beautiful skin Azriel was begging to cover in his kisses. You had picked a simple necklace, a single tear drop shaped sapphire with matching earring and a matching bracelet. Your ring sat on manicured nails painted a soft shade of pink to white coffin head tips. Heels graced your feet, the red underside flashing when you walked. "Gods, you are stunning," he finally whispered out in a hoarse voice.

"And all yours," you looked at him, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. "Forever." Your mask slipped on as the doors opened, a collective gasp ringing through the room over who was on your arm followed by whispers.

Azriel knew this song and dance, walking you into one thousand eyes staring and gawking. He hated seeing you like this as you were ushered to the dance floor. The first dance of the night had been delayed, and the fae were restless.

Once you were centered on the floor, you turned facing him, eyes cold and distant as you disassociated from this place. He placed a hand on your hip, leaving his other to his side where both of your sat.

It was unfair of Feyre and Rhysand to expect you to do this traditional waltz, but you followed Azriel's steps as the music began, that first note echoing in your bones and soul. Your parents had claimed your first dance with your mate. The first true dance you two would ever share, and it had to be done in front of hundreds of fae who spat your direction when the Lord and Lady were busy.

Azriel had decided he hated this side of you. He was studying you like a project. You were a different female down here. Cold, uncaring, forced into this role of the High Lord's daughter.

Did these fae know you took far too much creamer in your coffee?

That you were afraid of storms?

That you only ate fruit pastries because you found chocolate too bitter?

You were Rhysand through and through with that mask on. But inside, inside Azriel knew you carried the very light of what your grandfather built. You were a true dreamer, and you could rattle the very stars themselves if your father would just give you the chance.

If Rhysand would just believe in you.

Azriel decided in that moment what the answer to your happiness was. He'd take you tonight and you two would leave.

Fuck expectations.

Fuck the rules.

Fuck your family.

Azriel would pick you for the third time today, and you two would leave.

He just had to get you through this visit at Hewn City first, and as he watched Elain shatter a champagne flute in her hands, he knew that was going to be a mission all on its own.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

Azriel-

@elle4404

Small World Taglist-

@amara-moonlight @iimichie @acourtofbatboydreams @justasillylittlegoofyguy @janesalvarerelochanarcheron @hungryforbatboys @sidthedollface2 @hunt1bryce

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x feysands daughter!reader #az x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster

640 notes · View notes

klemen-tine · 4 months

Text

Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 2

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

First Part

Part 3

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking

This is more of the family side than it is of Bruce. Next part will be everyone.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Young Master Y/N, what a pleasant surprise.” Y/N smiled at Alfred, opening their arms and sagging in relief once they hugged the butler. The three hour car ride had been tense, with everyone asking questions and Y/N trying their hardest to be polite while not losing it. The fashion show still fresh in their mind, and the clothing Francesca had given them was gently folded and placed in the trunk of the car.

“It is good to see you, Alfred. It’s been too long.” The old man huffed, “Indeed. A year of only phone calls and cards does make it seem like it was a century ago since I last saw your face… in person.” Y/N smiled, giving Alfred a playful look before remembering where they are and how they got here.

The smile on their face became practiced, expression smoothening out as they turned to face the rest of the family who were all waiting patiently. Dick was smiling brightly, unraveling his scarf and walking forward, “Hey Alfie, you should have seen our Y/N walk. They really made the show.”

“I find it insulting they made you walk last,” Damian chimed and crossed his arms. Y/N gave him a small smile, “Being a closer is as much of a compliment as being the opener.” The young boy scrunched his nose, “I preferred the show in Paris.”

“Francesca Gabbana designed the piece, Alfred you’ll have to see it.” Tim was the one carrying the case that had the piece in it. The old man hummed, “I saw it on the television, but perhaps seeing it in person will be better.” Jason shrugged, walking in and gently nudging Y/N with his larger shoulders, “Although, did she have to make the Bat symbol just the front piece? It barely covered anything.” Y/N could see his jaw clench like the very thought of other people seeing Y/N’s stomach.

Bruce was the last to walk in, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over his arm, “Fashion designers do not care about function, only beauty.” Y/N smiled tensely, “It is a form of art.” The older man smiled at Y/N, and the model couldn’t get rid of the image of the Bruce they saw backstage.

“Of course it is. One of the most demanding forms of art as well.” Y/N couldn’t place the tone, but there was a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Alfred shuffled, “Well, dinner is almost ready. Young Master Y/N, if you want you can wash up in one of the guest bathrooms. Your room is currently being used as a trophy room.” Y/N chuckled, “Oh dear, you’re not hanging up my photos are you?”

“I did tell you I would be.” Y/N shook their head, “Thanks Alfred, but I don’t have any clothes here.” An arm swung around their shoulder, and Y/N stiffened under the sudden touch. Jason was smiling at them, “C’mon Y/N, we have some clothes for you.” Y/N felt the sudden spike again in their spine, alerting them that something was amiss and only bad things would happen if they asked questions. From how everyone was looking at them, Y/N specifically, it was like they were waiting for Y/N to ask. Impatiently waiting for that landmine to explode in front of them.

“How kind of you, I wasn’t expecting that.” Y/N jumped over it.

“Of course! How could we not have clothes ready for when our younger sibling comes home. Even though it’s been almost three years, I hope everything still fits right.” Just to land on another landmine. Y/N kept the smile on, years of being talked down to by photographers have helped them create the perfect mask of politeness.

“So, which bathroom in which guest room?” Tim stepped forward and gently guided Y/N out from under Jason’s arm and further into the manor. Y/N stayed half a step behind, taking in the gothic manor and the decorations littering the hallway.

Out of all the siblings, Y/N is closest with Tim. Not really siblings, and not really even friends, but if his relationship could be described as a length rope attached to each person, Tim’s would be the second shortest. Right after Alfred. They are close in age, and Tim was the first one to comment on Y/N’s photo when Y/N had first started modeling.

It was only once, and it may have been in passing, but Y/N had held that interaction close to their heart. The first and last comment from a sibling about their modeling. An acknowledgement of sorts, that made Y/N momentarily believe that they were noticeable, only for that to be squished that same day.

“You’re photo in the Cosmetology magazine, it looks really good. Red suits you.”

The way that color looked on Y/N was the same as how a red rose looked on a green stem; like it was always meant to be. Y/N has seen the comparisons between them and their mother. M/N L/N was a beautiful woman, with large eyes and pouty lips, the very definition of innocence. A puppy-dog look that fit so naturally on her face.

A white rose.

While Y/N had a more sultry tone, a more powerful presence, one that demanded attention.

A red rose. Not so innocent, or pure, but who can be when you see your own mother dead in the bathtub. Drug allegations and the loss of her popularity caused her downfall, and she loved her popularity more than she loved her child. Y/N finds it hard to blame her, because after they have gotten a taste of what beauty can get them, they can see why their mother got addicted to the camera flashes.

The assurance that yes, they are beautiful. They are beautiful and worthy of the cameras.

But with every camera flash, is a terrible comment. A terrible blog, highlighting their faults and insecurities. Someone dissecting every motion they made, every microexpression, ever comment.

“Here you are, Y/N.” Y/N’s attention snapped back and sure enough they were in front of the door. Tim waited patiently for Y/N to enter, “Thank you, Tim.” The young man shrugged, “Sure. Clothes can be found in the dresser and shoes in the closet.” Y/N nodded, waiting for the other to leave. Instead Tim turned around and faced Y/N, waiting for the other with a raised brow, “You’re not going to ask about the clothes?”

Y/N gulped, “I feel like if I ask, I won’t like the answer. I’d rather live in ignorance for now.” They walked past Tim, opening and closing the door, but before they saw Tim grin and a smile played out on his lips, “Smart.”

They locked the door, and when they turned around Y/N nearly collapsed. They pressed their back into the door as they stared at the room in mild terror. Their room from their condo, fully paid off condo, was present in front of Y/N. The same color palette, the same furniture, hell even the bookshelves are the same. Gulping, Y/N walked further in and when they opened the dresser, their jaw clenched and fingers shook.

The exact same clothes.

The bathroom was their saving grace, or so they thought. It didn’t look like their bathroom in the condo, save for the same colored towels. That was until they opened the shower and saw full bottles of the same brand soap, shampoo, conditioner, masks, everything.

“Just like home. It is just like home, Y/N. Only in the Manor.” They mumbled to themselves, stripping in front of the shower stall and jumping in and not even waiting for the water to get hot. They wanted in and out as quickly as possible. Washing their hair, their body, and not even bothering to do the usual masks and scrubs.

Jumping out, they quickly towel dried themselves and threw on the robe that was so familiar.

“Routine… keep to the routine…” Body lotion, while the skin is still damp so it can absorb into the skin better, followed by an oil. For the face it was a double cleanse, first an oil based then water-based, followed by toner, retinol, serums, hyaluronic acid, moisturizer, and face oil. Teeth will be after the meal, but hair…

“Moisturizer, blow dry, and then oil.” Y/N continued to mutter, trying desperately to not go crazy as the familiar brands flashed across their face and they had to use it like normal. They had too. Cause if they don’t, then Y/N knows that they will go crazy.

They don’t bother to look in the dresser again, already on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, and instead they opted to flop onto the bed. Y/N buried their face in the pillow, and tried to not think about anything. They tried to force their mind blank, just how they did on the runway.

“Y/N, are you ready?” Only it wasn’t working. Sitting up, Y/N stared at the door and contemplated answering. The carefully crafted facade was cracking and Y/N doesn’t know if they can keep the mask on any longer. From the multiple shows this week, to the shows earlier today, then this, the mask had outworn its use and now it is slowly begging to be taken off.

“One minute please.” Only they can’t. Not here. Definitely not here.

Peeling themselves off of the bed, Y/N stripped out of the robe and grabbed the first shirt they saw, underwear, and jeans. Their house slippers were right next to the dresser, and Y/N wanted to cry. All of it was getting too much and they're not sure how much longer they can be doing this.

Opening the door, Dick and Jason were the ones waiting for them. Dick grinned, “How insulting of you to look so great in only jeans and a crew neck, making the rest of us look like toads.” Y/N chuckled, closing the door behind them, “I am a model, its my job to look good in every style of clothing.”

Dick laughed, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulder he pulled the other close. Close enough that Y/N could smell the detergent used on Dick’s clothes, and body heat radiating off of the other. They started walking, Jason keeping silent while Dick chatted to Y/N, catching the other up on the past year.

“There are more to the family now, but they won’t be at dinner today. Cass is with Steph, Duke is studying, and Barbara has dinner with her own family to join.” Y/N nodded, ignoring the small sting that others can be welcomed in while they couldn’t be. Instead, they kept the conversation polite, “How nice! It must be worthwhile to have so many people here.” Dick grinned, and there was a type of sharpness to it that had Y/N squirming.

“Yeah, but it was never really a full house because not everyone was here.” A jab at Y/N, who muscled through it, “Well, modeling is a travel-heavy job. There was no time to come back.” The brothers stayed quiet, leading Y/N to the dining room table where everything and everyone was sitting and waiting patiently.

Bruce caught their eyes, and motioned for them to sit at the empty seat next to him, Tim on the other side. Y/N walked over, and took the seat graciously, trying to ignore the weight in their stomach that was making their throat close. Alfred emerged, and like the true butler he was, he began setting their plates in front of them. Perfectly made and being presented beautifully on the white ceramic plates with gold leaf designs.

Their favorite meal, one that always had Y/N running down the stairs when Alfred would announce his plans to make it, sat perfectly in the center of the plate. Its been so long since Y/N had it, no one quite makes it like Alfred does, and plus its just not really in Y/N’s diet.

But Alfred made it. Alfred put his time and effort into making it, and Y/N is not going to spit on that. Once everyone had their plate, the dinner table became loud with chatter. Just like hoow it used to be. Dick would carry the conversation for the entire table, Jason would make sarcastic remarks, Tim intelligent ones, Damian’s would be snide, and Bruce would look exhausted the entire time. However, he still partook in them, letting his kids have the family moment of conversing with their parental figure. Smiling and chuckling as he did so, Bruce tried to be that good father figure.

And Y/N just sits there. They eat quietly and think about their next photo shoot, the next trends that they need to hop on, the workout routine they need to adhere by. Questions do not get thrown their way–

“Now that fashion season is over, what are your plans Y/N?” E/C eyes blink owlishly, staring at Dick in wonder as all eyes focus on them.

“Oh, uh, um, well its normally rest season for us, but I have plans to schedule a few photoshoots, commercials, and I know Maya has been talking about me becoming a brand ambassador.” Y/N wants to keep the momentum. Y/N wants to be kept busy to get and stay away from here.

“You’re not going to rest?” Jason questioned, raising a brow and Y/N shrugged, “I plan to take a few weeks off, but modeling doesn’t really have a set time.” It isn’t a 9-5 job, or vigilante job. Y/N will have to make public appearances, showing up to Galas, grand openings, other fashion shows, fashion shoots, and a lot of traveling.

Bruce hummed, “Sounds like you’re running yourself thin.” Y/N gulped, “It sounds like a lot, but most of it is traveling and getting ready. Besides, I like being busy.” In high school, Y/N would go from school the the modeling agency where they would schedule photo shoots and commercials. Then it would be meeting with dieticians, personal trainers, estheticians, and then more meeting for future goals. The next steps.

Y/N was always busy, but so was their mother and she managed. She was a single mother and a high end fashion model. If she can do it, then there is no reason Y/N can’t.

“But there are other stuff right? Like you need to get facials to make sure your skin looks nice, and working out,” Damian chimed in, and Y/N blinked in surprise at the youngest contributing to the conversation. They smiled, “That’s not really tiring, it’s just time consuming.”

Alfred walked back into the dining room, a dessert platter in his hands, “Then it is good you will be resting here. Take a few days to enjoy being free.” A cheesecake was set down in front of Y/N, and Alfred pointedly stared at the half eaten meal. He gave Y/N a raised brow, and while the model would normally smile and reassure the man that they would eat later, their face was full of shock, “What do you mean a ‘few days?’”

Bruce wiped the corner of his lips with a napkin, “A few days. Rest here for a few days, it’ll be good for you and for everyone else.” Y/N gulped, “Why is it good for everyone else if I stay?”

“Of course it’s good for us. Family sticks together obviously, and with you running off, it really sent things haywire.” There it was again. The phrase ‘running off’ as if it was something Y/N actually did. They smiled, “You’re sounding like Tim. I did not run off, I moved out.” Bruce’s brow furrowed, “ ‘Moved out,’ huh. I didn’t realize moving out meant leaving without so much as a goodbye.”

“The things you left behind, you scheduled people to grab them and throw them out. Alfred was the one to stop them from touching your room,” Dick stated. Those blue eyes keep Y/N locked in their seat. The smile on the oldest sibling’s face was anything but kind, “It’s like you wanted to erase yourself from this manor. You left behind almost nothing that would trace you to us.”

“Not a number to call. We had to get it from Alfred,” Jason chimed, taking a bite of the chocolate mousse cake.

“Or a letter explaining where you went.” Damian took a sip of the tea.

“Or an address.” Tim gulped his cup of coffee, all of them watching Y/N. They way their sibling’s shoulders tensed and that fake smile became more and more downturned. Bruce spoke once more, “It seems like you don’t even want to be a Wayne. Taking your mother’s last name despite the controversies.”

Y/N’s smile turned bitter, “I took her last name because Wayne is more influential and I wanted to start with as little influence as possible. Plus, legally my last name is still L/N.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, “And look how many speculations you got for drug use.”

“...Since when did you read gossip?”

“The moment my kid’s photo is attached to that piece of gossip.” Y/N is still aware of all the blogs accusing them of drug-use, the same blogs that accused M/N. People using her photos to compare their features and just cause more drama.

Y/N took a bite of the cheesecake, and the tension at the table was thick. Usually it was between Dick and Bruce, or Jason and Bruce. Never between Y/N though. Although, Y/N never spoke at the table so maybe that is why they were arguing? Can this even be considered an argument?

Alfred cleared his throat, “While talking is appreciated, arguments stay away from the dinner table.” So it was an argument. Y/N apologized to the man and took another bite of the cheesecake. Their mind filled with the workout they are going to have to do to burn this off.

++++

Alfred watched the child he considered a grandchild drink their tea, brewed in the darkness of the kitchen and now sitting at the dinner table again. While a year may not seem long, for Alfred it was. Y/N, who had been there for half a decade, had been glued to Alfred’s side. The man always taking the teen to and from school, and then sometimes to their gigs.

It was Alfred that took Y/N to their first audition to be a model, and it seems like it was only a few days before he received a call from a woman claiming to be M/N L/N’s manager, and while she may not be Y/N’s manager, her daughter will be. Alfred liked Maya. The young woman always let him know of Y/N’s gigs, she would pick the young teen up and drop him off, and she tried to be as helpful as she could. Maya was a woman born to manage models and their busy and demanding schedules.

What Alfred didn’t like, was that Maya still had the old school model critiques. Alfred gaped at the woman when she handed him a list of diets for Y/N to ‘lose weight.’ A 15 year old Y/N, who was already slender, now being told they had to be skinny but toned. A child being told that ice cream was no longer an option, and their favorite burgers were banned.

He furrowed at the training regime, wondering how agencies can expect a teenager to be toned like their already full adult models. Nonstop cardio, ab workouts, and toning exercises. Then strut practice, because if Y/N was M/N’s child, then they were made for the runway. Born to walk in front of cameras and audiences.

“If Y/N wants to be a model, then sacrifices have to be made,” Was Maya’s response to Alfred's inquiries. She assured him that Y/N would still be eating, and she encouraged Y/N to eat, but now those meals were restricted to certain foods.

Alfred watched as Y/N struggled at first, their own plate different from the others, and how the blisters on their toes and heels bled through their socks and bandaids. The old man watched as the training and strut practice became an everyday routine. Y/N walked on the wobbling plyboard, barely wide enough for one foot, and the amount of times they fell off of it. The books stacked on their head for good posture and balance, followed by walking on an incline in those uncomfortable shoes, then training the muscles to the point of exhaustion.

He had watched the child-like baby fat on Y/N’s cheeks melt off and expose cheekbones that looked tight against the skin. Y/N still looked beautiful, not more or less, but Alfred could see the exhaustion in those young eyes and how Y/N juggles modeling and being a student.

Y/N didn’t even go to their high school graduation, choosing instead to head to Paris for their first ever abroad photoshoot. That kickstarted the traveling and runway model career. Once Y/N got their highschool diploma, they were out the door and becoming busier and busier.

“I see you still drink onion skin tea so late at night.” Y/N smiled up at Alfred, “Of course. I was shocked to see that you still keep the skins.” The older man sat across from Y/N, nursing his own cup of tea “Of course. In case you ever visited, I thought it would be great to have some in stock.” Y/N gave Alfred a ‘really?’ look, continuing to sip on the still hot tea.

“I saw the piece you wore today,” Alfred started the conversation.

“It truly is a beautiful piece of work.” Y/N’s jaw clenched, “Did you know about-” Y/N waved a hand in the air, “- about Bruce calling to commission a piece?” The old man took a sip of the earl gray. Y/N shook their head, unable to be upset, “Alfred, a call about that would have been appreciated.”

“An address would also be appreciated but seeing as you have withheld that information, I saw no harm in sharing Master Bruce’s commission.” Y/N deflated, rubbing their forehead with their fingers, “Alfie-”

“You only use that name when you know you’re about to be in trouble, so you might as well just say it, Young Master Y/N.” Y/N’s cheeks blushed and their lips pouted, “Alfie, I told you that the reason I didn’t tell you my address is because I am always traveling. I’d feel awful if you showed up and I wasn’t there.”

“There’s a wonderful contraption called a cellphone, Young Master Y/N. I would call before making that trek over.” Y/N groaned, setting his cup down and trying not to crumble in front of the grandfather figure. Answering to Alfred was always harder than answering to Bruce.

“Alfie–”

“Young Master Y/N, I understand your hesitancy is sharing in your life with others. Life was lonely here, and I understand wanting to forget that. However, having only a number to call you is terrifying. What if something happens and I cannot help you?” Y/N gazed sadly at Alfred, “Life wasn’t lonely, Alfie. I had you, right?”

Alfred Pennyworth, Y/N’s saving grace and lifeline. The person who is proof that Y/N was not alone in the Wayne Manor. The butler always willing to lend an ear when Y/N vented their frustrations, and when tears escaped their E/C eyes. He is Y/N’s biggest supporter. Always buying a magazine that had Y/N in it, and he would listen to Y/N critique the pose and the facial expression. Then he would give Y/N a slice of cheesecake and compliment Y/N, in both the photo and in person.

Always reassuring the other that a cheat day will not set him back, and rest is what the body needs the most. Reassuring Y/N that their mother would be proud, that Bruce notices them, and that Y/N’s siblings do in fact love them.

“Besides, why would you even want to visit? My place wouldn’t be as grand as this–”

“It would be to make sure your fridge is stocked and that you are eating. You have always been the worst when it comes to eating, and I worry that your fridge and pantry are empty.” Alfred doesn’t have to guess that Y/N’s fridge is empty, because he knows it is.

He knows that Y/N’s fridge is empty besides some drinks, and that the pantry is only snacks. While Y/N may have the excuse of being gone for so long, traveling and whatnot, Alfred knows that Y/N does not spend a lot of money on food. Y/N spends more money on clothes, jewlery, facial and hair care products, than they do on groceries.

Y/N doesn’t even look ashamed. Nervous, yeah, but not ashamed. They sip their tea without making eye contact. Time to change the subject.

“Why is Bruce, and all the boys, all of a sudden interested in what I do?” Alfred didn’t Y/N out on the obvious change in conversation, but he let it slide. The old man sighed, “Why would a parent not be interested in what their child is doing?”

“Alfred.”

“Young Master Y/N, you have worked tirelessly to get to the position you are now. With no help from the family, you had spent your late mother’s money to audition, then to pay your managers, and now you are making it big within the industry. Is it wrong for a parent to congratulate their child?” Y/N bit their lip, “So its because I’m finally someone now? Was I not worth attention because I chose not to be Robin?”

“Young Master Y/N–”

“I don’t care about that. Like I told Bruce, it wasn’t abuse or anything, he just simply didn’t have time for me and that’s fine. I’m not mad about that.” Alfred watched Y/N get worked up, and E/C begin to shift in nervousness, “What I am talking about is why did Bruce pay off my Condo, and why does he have access to my bank account?”

Silence fell across the table. Y/N staring at Alfred expectantly, while the butler finished his tea. Once done, he grabbed his and Y/N’s tea cup and headed towards the kitchen.

“Perhaps, that is a Master Bruce question.” Y/N made a sound of annoyance, throwing themselves back into the chair and scrunching their nose. Standing up from the table, Y/N said goodnight to Alfred, and proceeded up that stairs and into dark hallways. Y/N wasn’t ready to go back to the guest room, feeling their heart rate spike whenever they thought of the replicated room.

Instead, they walked down familiar halls towards a room-now-turned-trophy room. They reached for the doorknob, but found themselves unable to open it. Y/N didn’t want to see all the photos Alfred had kept throughout the years. Rather, what caught Y/N’s attention was the lacking of doors in the hallway. There used to be two more doors on their left, but instead there was now one. The area where the second door was, was perfectly sealed and now blended into the wall.

Y/N took a deep breath, and opened the door. They used to be guest rooms as well. The two rooms had queen-sized beds and armoires for the unexpected guests that popped up. Y/N’s room used to be a guest-room, but they ended up liking the privacy because no one else’s room was around their’s. In fact, it was the guest room across from Y/N’s room that they had turned into the practice room, seeing that no one came down this hallway.

However, clearly people were not because of the renovation done.

When the door opened, Y/N sought out the light switch. The room was pitch black, and the last thing Y/N wanted to do was trip over something. Feeling around the wall, Y/N rejoiced when they felt the familiar switch and flicked it on. Once the bright light filled the room, Y/N took a deep breath. They were expecting a game room, or an indoor swimming people because that seems like something a rich person would do. Turning two guest rooms into a pool despite it being on the second floor.

Something not exactly normal, but expected.

Y/N didn’t expect this. Gone was the wall that separated the two bedrooms, making it one long room, and all the furniture was absent. No more beds, armoires, and it looks like even the bathrooms were gutted and turned into part of the room. All the tables, rugs, sofas, everything that was once in those rooms, were now gone besides the chandeliers that hung on the ceiling. Filling the room with a bright light, that didn’t fit the manor aesthetic at all, and illuminating everything that was in the room.

While the furniture was gone, the room was not empty. Mannequins lined the walls, on their own podiums and glass cases. While seeing them bare would have been scary, seeing them dressed in the clothes that Y/N had worn on the runways was more terrifying. Y/N, in the runway season alone, walked 86 shows. That is the runways season alone, not including the other smaller shows they have done since graduating high school almost a year ago.

These weren’t all of the clothes they have worn, there was still a large amount and they were the most iconic pieces. Pieces that a designer would never want to give someone.

Y/N walked further in, taking in the first mannequin on the right, and they noted that the mannequin looked eerily similar to Y/N. Only missing the facial features and hair, but it looked like the proportions were almost spot on.

The plastic doll had on the outfit from a runway show earlier in the year, when Y/N walked for Versace. A simple long blazer with deep V cut, stopping mid-thighs where only an inch of skin was shown before thigh boots bedazzled in gold, diamonds, emeralds, and other precious jewels took over the rest of the legs. The earrings they wore were poked into the mannequin's own ears and the bracelets hung off the dainty wrists. In the glass case, next to the mannequin, was the photo taken of Y/N when they were walking.

The next case was a piece they wore when walking for a newer fashion-designer, one that Y/N did for free just to get to their name out there, and the piece was a gorgeous suit, dyed a beautiful vermillion red that had the slighted shimmer of gold in it. Y/N’s runway photo was once again next to the mannequin.

The entire room was full of these iconic runway looks, with Y/N’s photo right next to them, and they surrounded all sides of the room and some of them in the middle. Almost like an art gallery of sorts, and Y/N looked at every single one of them. Not in amazement or judgment, but more of horror.

Y/N knows some of these fashion designers. They have known some of them since they were a child and watching their mom get fitted by these exact same designers. No matter how much she begged, they would never let her take one of their creations home. These clothes were meant to be either safe-guarded in a museum, in their own collection, or in some cases bought by a celebrity and worn to an award ceremony as advertisement.

In other words, Y/N knows that some of these designers would rather gnaw off an arm then give away their precious creations. Yet, here some of those precious creations were, hanging on the mannequin shaped like the model.

In the center of the room, like it was the main show, was the Batman-inspired piece. All that was missing was the photo, which wouldn’t be published for another few weeks.

Taking a deep breath, they stared at the reflection in the gold-plated bat. They were trying to process all of this. It’s one thing to have photos, because Y/N is a model and photos are expected, but to have the actual clothes they wore. Clothes that Y/N knows the designers would kill for, dressed on mannequins that looked almost exactly like Y/N was another thing.

Y/N backed out of the room, turning the lights off and shutting the door silently. They stared at their own door, sweat beginning to break out on their forehead, and they went against their instincts and opened that door.

A trophy room, Alfred had said. The walls are decorated in their photos, and the bed is still as immaculate as the day they left. Turning the lights on, Y/N couldn’t help but to smile as the time capsule in front of them. From their very first photoshoot, when Y/N was a gangly 15-year-old with still chubby cheeks, to the most recent photoshoot of a now 18 almost 19-year-old Y/N. Their confidence can be seen in their pose and gaze, something their younger self lacked.

Y/N walked closer to the walls and looked at all the different photos. Some candid, some posed, some in the water, and there’s one where they are in Greece. Some had Y/N fully clothed with barely and inch of skin, and some were of Y/N with barely an inch of clothes. From makeup, to shoes, to perfume, to clothes, Y/N’s photo was pinned on the wall or framed.

A photo caught their attention though. It wasn’t one from a website, or a magazine, but an actual photo. Y/N looked closer, and they recognized the set from when they were 16-years-old posing for an editorial magazine.

However, the angle in which this photo was taken from, Y/N knows there were no cameras there. All the cameras were in front or on the side, not behind. Another photo caught their eyes, and it was the same thing. A photo from behind.

Once they started looking for them, Y/N could begin to spot them all. Photos that they know no photographer took. There was one that had their blood chilling and fear rising in their chest. It was a photo, taken at night and through one of the windows in Y/N’s condo. Y/N had one wall in the living room that was basically all windows, letting in the morning sun and led out onto the gated terrace. It was high enough that they had no neighbors that could look through those windows.

In the photo, Y/N was wearing their pajamas and their hair still looked wet. They were sitting on the counter of the island in their kitchen, eating raspberries and watching Youtube on their TV. It was such a close photo, close enough that the reflection can be seen in the glass.

Y/N recognizes the blue and black, and when Y/N’s eyes drifted to another photo of them in their home, bile rose into their throats. The morning sun illuminated the warm neutral color palette in the living room, and Y/N was out on the terrace sitting at the patio table they had set up out there drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book. They had their shirt off, exposing ribs pulled tightly against skin and abs that remained toned even when Y/N wasn’t flexing. The shorts they had on exposing soft skin and pedicured feet, their slipped laid forgotten under the chair they were sitting in.

They recognize that book. It was a book they read in the height of summer, meaning that this photo was taken half a year ago, when it was okay to sit outside in the warm summer mornings and let the skin begin to circulate.

What chilled Y/N even more was that whoever took this photo was on their terrace with them. They were on Y/N’s terrace, and Y/N didn’t even know. The Wayne family has known Y/N’s address the entire time. They knew where Y/N was staying, they knew Y/N’s photoshoot schedules, and they knew Y/N better than Y/N thought they did.

“I didn’t think you’d come in here.” Y/N’s head whipped around and there was Dick, or Nightwing, still in costume and smiling at them.

“The hell is this?” Y/N held up the photo of them on the terrace, and Dick shrugged, “I’ll admit, those photos we took. But we didn’t take the other ones.”

“What other ones?” “The ones of you at the photoshoots. I know you saw them, but we didn’t take those.” Y/N glared at Dick, and pushed themselves close to the wall as Dick walked in. Damian was right behind him. The oldest brother walked to the photo that originally caught Y/N’s attention, “You had a stalker, can you believe that? He took hundreds of photos of you, and all we did was make him stop.”

Y/N’s lips pursed, “How do I know you’re not lying?” Dick unpinned the photo, and with Damian’s help, trapped Y/N against the wall next to the photo of them outside. He held up the photo, “Because, Y/N, as you can see we prefer more… candid photos then staged.”

Y/N snapped, “There is nothing candid about that photo! That is an invasion of privacy! Trespassing! So is that one!” They pointed to one of them sitting on the counter. Damian grabbed their arm, and Y/N wanted nothing more than to shove the kid off.

“And so is that one.” Dick pointed to one of Y/N wearing only a large shirt, a towel around their shoulders as they walked into their kitchen.

“And that one.”

“That one there.”

“There’s that one too.” Y/N looked at all the photos, hidden next to the magazine photos, and they were all of them in their home. Horror morphed on Y/N’s face when there was one photo of Y/N in the bedroom, in the midst of taking their shirt off.

Dick continued to smile, and Y/N could see Jason and Tim peeking in from the doorway.

“You did a lot on your own, Y/N. You built a name for yourself, became a highly sought after model, it really is amazing.” Dick walked closer, “But you know what all of those photos have in common?” Y/N stared into blue eyes, terror swimming in those E/C eyes of theirs.

“You aren’t even aware of your photo being taken.” The truth unsettled Y/N enough to try and squirm out of Damian’s grip and to get away from Dick. They didn’t need to be pointed out. Y/N is aware that in every photo taken without their permission, they were not once aware of it. Even when they looked like they would be only a few feet away, Y/N not once looked bothered. Y/N doesn’t even remember that feeling of being watched.

Tim and Jason stepped in the room, making it seem crowded and even if Y/N got out of Damian’s grip, there was no way they were getting past all of them.

Large hands gripped Y/N’s forearms, feeling like they would bruise the skin if Y/N struggled.

“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?”

________________________________________________________

Part 3 is coming soon....

#batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #batfam #batman x reader #bruce wayne #platonic batman #platonic batfam #yandere imagines #gender neautral reader #batman x gn reader #Yandere batman #batfam x male reader #Batfamily x female reader #Batfamily x gender neutral reader

677 notes · View notes

mcu-coworkers · 11 months

Text

Where do broken hearts go?

Miguel O’Hara x reader

Summary: You decide to do Miguel a favor and give him what he wants. or so you thought you did.

Word count:1k+

A/n: I came up with this at 1am:0 pt.2 is in the works

Parts: I^ II III

Ever since the multiverse was disrupted he changed.

Little by little, day by day, you began to see it worsen. You began to see him worsen.

And there was nothing you could do to help him, he made that very clear.

You loved Miguel with every fiber of your being. It was almost embarrassing considering he barely did so much as look your way when he came home.

It wasn't always like this, and those were the moments you clung to when your thoughts were at their darkest.

Before all of this he was happy, we were happy.

The man I loved kissed me almost every second we were together and never went a day without telling me a cheesy punch line to get a laugh out of me.

When he proposed to you it was the happiest day of your life, you thought it could only get better from here.

You were marrying the love of your life. What could go wrong?

You understood him, or at least you tried but it was hard at times when the closest you could get to him lately was standing on the other side of the door to his office where he’d just ignore you some more.

The furthest you got was when you urged him to talk to you but all he said was “ You? What could you possibly do to help me? You don't even know what a cannon event is let alone an anomaly! Por dios.” and straight into his office he went.

As much as you loved your husband you knew that a minute more of this would kill you.

You were two strangers living under the safe roof at this point, he wouldn't even notice if you left.

So you did.

First you called your lawyer to prepare the divorce papers, next you found a place to stay, packed your bags and now you were ready.

You wanted to tell him face to face but as soon as you looked his way he shrugged you off once again.

“Not now Y/n I have reports to write for the spider society.” and like always you were just another fly on the wall.

Sighing with tears brimming your eyes you grabbed a notebook and a pen.

You began writing a goodbye that he probably wouldn't even bother to read.

Dear Miguel,

Things haven't been the same for sometime now. It feels like the man I once fell in love with doesn't love me anymore and I've been hurting ever since. I feel like I'm holding you back from achieving your goal with all of these canon events and things I don't understand. I can't live like this anymore and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize. I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm leaving. Next to this note that you might not even read is an envelope with divorce papers that I've already signed and left ready for you to give to my lawyer to finalize the divorce. Lastly, I want to thank you for giving me what will always be the best years of my life. I'll cherish them with everything I am and always smile at the beautiful memories we made together. I'm sorry things didn't work out the way we thought they would.

With love always,

Y/n L/n

You didn't realize at what moment you began to cry but you’d managed to stain the letter. At that point you had no energy to write the damn thing all over again so you just folded it up and left it on top of the envelope.

Taking off your ring and wedding bang you set them next to it and walked out the door.

Giving what was once your home one last look, you turned your back to it and let the cool air hit your face as you got in your car and made your way to the airport.

No more going back Y/n, no more Miguel O’hara.

Little did you know as soon as you’d closed that front door Miguel's head poked out of his office, you never went out this late at night.

“Y/n? What did I tell you about taking out the trash? I ‘ll do it.” he said as he came out of his office annoyed by your lack of communication.

“Y/n? Y/n! Donde estas mujer?” (where are you woman?) he spoke out as he walked around the house.

No response.

After checking all the rooms and coming up empty handed Miguel started to feel a tightness in his chest.

“Boss, you should see these reports.” Lyla said over his shoulder.

“Not now Lyla I ‘m looking for my wife.” he said, shrugging the AI off.

“You think that stuff on the counter will give some clues?” she said pointing towards the letters in the kitchen.

Stopping in his tracks he turned towards the kitchen.

There was no fucking way, he thought to himself.

You’d never do this to him.

But you did.

Opening the letter he read it and quickly that tightness in his chest got tighter and his body began to shake as he felt panic consume him.

“Miguel… that envelope.” Lyla said quietly hoping it wasn't what she thought. But it was and she could just see her boss begin to break.

Ripping the envelope open he realized this isn't some kind of sick joke from your part.

Seeing your signature at the end of the page broke Miguel to pieces.

He read over the letter over and over hoping to find some clue as to where you went so he could bring you back home to him.

He knew he'd been distant for some time now but he didnt know it had affected you this badly, if he did he would've changed.

He would do anything to keep you by his side. He thought that by coming home at a decent hour you'd be happy even if he was just in his office.

Well fuck was he so wrong about that.

Picking up your rings Miguel finally let go of the tears he’d been trying so hard to hold back.

The feeling of the cold silver in the palm of his hands was like a slap in the face forcing him to accept that you’d left him.

You left thinking he hated you and for that he’d never be able to forgive himself, not for that or any of this.

Taking a deep breath he tried to focus.

“Lyla, call Jess, tell her she's in charge of the spider society until I find my wife and bring her home.” he ordered as he stood up walking towards your shared bedroom.

“Yes boss. Go get your girl back!.” she replied wishing him the best of luck before heading off to find his sub in.

Miguel had all the resources in the world, finding you would only take him seconds.

It was convincing you to come back that would be his biggest challenge.

But first he was paying a visit to your lawyer.

#miguel x reader #Miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider-man 2099 #y/n #miguel o'hara x reader

2K notes · View notes

evanpeterswhoresblog · 4 months

Text

Cherry Bomb (pt. 2)

James Potter x f!reader, Sirius Black x f!reader (mentioned)

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), oral (female receiving), switch james? brief fingering, heavy making out, i love this smut w my heart

summary: you proceed with the second part of your plan. james potter.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: i’m so bad at writing summaries i’m sorry, i promise it’s worth it lol. i suppose this could be a stand off but i like reading them in order. hope you enjoy :) also ps if there’s any mistakes i’m sorry grammarly told me it was fine but i don’t fully trust that hoe smh

~~~

James Potter was a different story. He thought of himself as a gentleman though not many seventeen-year-olds were gentlemen. He thought this solely because he was nothing like his best mate. He had to at least know a girl's name before taking her to bed. Though, he typically liked to know a bit more than just that. So, in order to shag James Potter, one must abide by a few more rules than with dear Sirius Black. One, she must be friendly. Two, she must have some knowledge of quidditch. Three, she must be willing to stroke his massive ego despite how humiliating it may be. And four, the most important rule, she must be ready to play along with his games. Because James Potter was a chaser in all senses. And oh, how he loved a good chase.

~~~

You peak around the corner of one of the hallways, a bit out of breath. You just ran down a few flights of stairs to get here. For a few seconds you search the hallway, then he appears. He’s alone. Good.

It’s been two weeks since your night with Sirius, and it hasn’t been easy. You regret your whole show of making him remember your name, it’s caused more harm than good. But it felt good in the moment, it felt more than good. Shagging Sirius all together became your best shag the second he pressed you against the wall and kissed you till you were out of breath. You regret picking him first. In retrospect though, you had no idea how much he’d care for a second time. He’s always been known as a one-nighter. It’s been hard having to deny him, and it’s been hard convincing him that he has you mistaken for another girl. But you’ve managed.

You feel bad about it, but you try not to pay it much mind as the second part of your plan is about to begin.

You clutch your books to your chest and begin to walk down the hallway, your face down. You know what his shoes look like. So, when they begin to come closer you loosen your grip on your books and shift your body ever so slightly so that you’re in his way. Inevitably, the two of you bump into each other, and your books quickly fall to the floor.

“Shit,” you say as you fall to your knees to start gathering your things.

“Sorry love, didn’t see you there. Let me help,” he replies, crouching down in front of you.

You look at him. “Oh, it’s alright, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Me either.” He laughs, handing you one of your papers. His eyes linger on yours. “I think I know you.”

“I doubt it.”

“No, I do. You’re the girl my mate Sirius thinks he shagged.”

You look away, pretending to be flustered. “I don’t know why he’s so set on me. I mean, I was at that party, but I went back to my dorm with my friend. And I think I’d remember a night with him you know, with his reputation.”

“Yeah, I dunno, he tends to get hammered and forget a lot,” he says. You look back at him and watch as he runs one of his hands through his dark curls. A habit of his. “I’m sure he’ll stop bothering you soon enough.”

“Yes, when the next girl is in his bed,” you reply. The two of you share a laugh and you pick up your last paper. You hold them close to your chest and stand, he follows. “Well thanks for helping, you’re very kind.”

He smiles that brilliant smile of his. “It’s only right.”

You return the smile. “I’ve got to get to class thanks again James.”

“You know my name? Are you one of my adoring fans?”

He’s smirking now, his arms folded across his chest. His ego is taking over. Perfect.

You shyly look down for a few seconds before meeting his eyes again. “Isn’t everyone a fan of the famous chaser from Gryffindor?”

“You’d be surprised how many aren’t.”

“Well, that lot must simply consist of fools.” You look down at your watch. “Seems I’m going to be a bit late to history of magic. ‘Suppose it’s alright, I don’t care for it much anyway. But I best be going, wouldn’t want to keep you from your class.”

“That’s quite kind of you y/n,” he says.

You raise a brow. “Oh? Do you happen to be one of my adoring fans?”

“Perhaps, or perhaps Sirius has been talking our ears off about you.”

“I think I like the first answer better.”

He smirks. “I see. It was nice running into you then. Literally.”

“Yes, it was.” You step past him, your eyes lingering on him for a few more seconds. “Goodbye then James.”

“Goodbye y/n.”

You leave fast with a smile on your face.

Phase one is complete.

~~~

For the next two weeks, you have more of those run ins with James. Each time having a different reaction. Some end in a sweet goodbye, some end with you barely acknowledging him at all, and some end in a quick walk through the halls together. You know how it messes with his head. One day you’re a girl who strokes his ego with flattering compliments, and another day you brush past him as if he doesn’t exist. By the sixth encounter, you relish in the knowledge that he’s starting to bump into you. Not the other way around.

“I’m starting to get Sirius. I suppose he wishes it was you that he shagged.”

The two of you are walking alone, not another person is in the hall. You look up at him, your cheeks flushing when you find him already looking down at you. He runs his hand through his hair. You hate how it makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You turn your head away.

“I don’t know why he would wish that with me.”

“I could name a few reasons,” he says.

You’ve stopped walking at this point. You turn your body to face him, another shy smile on your face. James Potter is such a charmer. You’ve known this. Yet his words affect you as if you have no idea about his reputation of being a flirt.

This is bad, you think.

It’s been hard enough resisting the urge to take Sirius up on another night together, even harder keeping up the lie that it never happened. You should stop this before it gets any worse, you know that. However, from the look James is giving you, you know you won't be able to stop this no matter how hard you try.

“Yeah?” You eventually challenge. “What reasons might those be Mr. Potter?”

“For starters, you are incredibly fit.” You watch his eyes trail up and down your body for a few seconds before returning to yours. “You’re kind, you’re funny, you make your interest noticeable, but you aren’t desperate.”

“I never claimed to be interested in you though, that’s an assumption.” You point out.

He takes a step closer to you, your breath catches in your throat. “So, if I were to, I dunno, snog you right now, you wouldn’t be pleased?”

Despite everything in your head screaming at you to snap out of it and push him away for the plan's sake, you can’t. No matter how hard you plan it seems that James Potter’s charm outdoes it. You don’t dare to move a muscle.

“I’m not sure, you might have to test and see.”

He takes another step. “I don’t want to be hexed though, if this experiment ends in the possibility of you not liking it.”

You take a step forward. The two of you are so close you can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Probability and possibility are different you know.”

He lifts one of his hands to your chin, tilting it up ever so slightly. “So, it’s a possibility that you’ll push me off and hex me, and it’s a probability that you’ll...”

“Snog you harder.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll take my chances then.”

He begins to lean his head down, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning yours up, meeting him halfway. The first few seconds are gentle. You like how soft his lips are, how you can taste the mint chap stick on them. But once that initial new feeling fades so does the gentleness.

Within a few short minutes you’re no longer standing in the middle of a hallway being kissed as if it were your first. Instead, you’re pressed against the wall in a broom closet, with your shirt half unbuttoned and James Potter’s hand up your skirt. Your head falls back against the stone as he sucks the sweet spot on your neck, his thumb rubbing perfect circles on your clit. You run your hands through his curls, they’re just as soft as you expected.

“James,” you moan.

“Yes love?”

You struggle to catch your breath. “I don’t- we can’t- fuck.”

“Hm?” He presses his thumb down harder; you feel your orgasm approaching. “You alright?”

“Yes- just don’t stop,” you reply.

He lifts his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Whatever you want.”

It’s safe to say, after that, phase two is completed.

~~~

Another week passes before you reach phase three. You don’t know why but playing James’s game is awfully fun. You know you’ve got him, and he knows he’s got you, but neither of you will say it. So, before anything can move too far in the closets, one of you stops it with an excuse and the other doesn’t question it. Part of you keeps it going because you want him to say the words, and another part of you keeps it going because deep down you don’t want it to be over yet.

But everything must end eventually.

The game's ending comes on a quiet Friday night. James catches you after dinner, dragging you off to one of the now familiar closets. He wastes no time, instantly pressing his lips to yours the second the door closes. There’s a desperation on his lips you haven’t felt before, it excites you. Naturally, you kiss him back, your hands moving up to his hair, his moving down to your waist.

Only a few seconds pass like this, then he pulls back. You can barely see his eyes through the darkness, but what you can see tells you something different is going to happen. He’s starving and you are more than happy to give him a taste.

“Can I have you y/n?” He whispers.

“Have me?”

He nods, his hands roaming up your sides. You shiver. “I need it, need you. Now.”

“You can have me, as long as you promise to keep this between us.” You place your hands on his shoulders and push him till his back hits one of the walls. “We wouldn’t want Sirius to be jealous that you actually got to shag me. You haven’t told any of them about this have you?”

“I have not, and I won’t. I swear,” he answers. “You can trust me.”

You smile and press a small kiss to his lips before lowering yourself to your knees. “I know I can. You’re a very sweet guy James and for that I’m going to show my appreciation.”

“You don’t have to-”

You begin to undo his belt. “I want to.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You unzip his trousers and pull away the fabric. You’re not surprised to find him already hard. You also aren’t surprised at how big he is. From the girls you’ve known to have shagged him, only good things came from them. You don’t waste any more time. You take him in your mouth and as far down your throat as possible. Blow jobs have never been your favorite activity, but from the sound that leaves James’s lips you know you’ll enjoy this specific one.

And you do.

You don’t know how much time passes by the time he’s cumming down your throat, but you do know you’ve enjoyed every moment. He moans your name louder than he should, his fingers tangled in your hair as he cums. Typically, you’d spit but this time you swallow. When you’re sure he’s done you pull back and rise, whipping your drool with the back of your hand.

James is breathless when he reaches for you. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you, nor to return the favor. Your legs shake as he buries his face between them, licking and sucking your clit at a perfect rhythm. It’s not long before it’s your turn to come undone due to his mouth. You have to hold yourself up on the wall as you finish, you practically see stars.

You pull him back up a minute later and wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses you once again and you savor the taste of yourself on his lips. It’s like a prize. And a memory you will forever cherish.

“Fuck me James,” you whisper eventually. “Like you mean it.”

“Your wish is my command,” he replies.

His hands fall to your thighs, and he lifts you up. You comply, wrapping your legs around his waist as he positions his hard again cock at your entrance. He enters you slowly, both of you savoring the feeling. He stretches you in an indescribable way that makes your toes curl. You hold him tight as he begins to fuck you.

Due to his active role in quidditch, his stamina is very built. He fucks you through two more orgasms before he even begins to show a sign of finishing. Tears role down your cheeks from the overstimulation, he asks you if you want to stop. You shake your head. He continues. Each thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your head. When he does eventually finish, he fills you up, his dick pulsing inside you.

He holds you tight after, his face tucked in your neck.

“You’re amazing,” he mumbles, his breath ragged. “I think I’d like to keep you.”

In this moment, you forget about your plan, and you turn your head to press a soft kiss to his sweaty head.

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

~~~

As you lie in bed that night with your diary in hand, a fresh checkmark next to James’s name, you wonder how you’re supposed to go on to the next part. Too many emotions have gotten involved from you, James, and Sirius. You know adding another person into the mix will only cause further issues. However, you also did save the best for last. Intentionally. At least, you think so anyway. James and Sirius have given you times you didn’t know you could ever have.

But then your eyes trail over the last name again.

Remus Lupin.

The show must go on.

419 notes · View notes

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 8 months

Text

Reign down on me - Part 2

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt

A/N: This is a bit of a short update, but I wanted to get something out for the people that were asking for it! Enjoy 💕

-🐺-

You were embarrassed as soon as the realisation hit you, but by the time you’d had a decent rest and something to eat, you were feeling a lot more even footed. You were standing at the precipice of your new posting with anticipation, ready and waiting at the front door of Ghost’s house, eagerly listening out for him to come out of his room and take you to the new base.

Ghost had knocked on your door earlier that morning just a little while after the sun had risen. He was still donning his skull balaclava and dressed similarly to the night before, though he had seemed to have changed sine. His eyes widened a fraction once he looked in and saw you, a flicker of surprise crossing what little you saw of his features when he saw you sitting awake on your freshly made bed.

“Earlier riser. Not a nest builder then?” he’d noted.

You struggled to remember the last time you’d made a blanket nest, you could barely recall how to build one. That was one of the first things that’d been beaten straight out of you after being left at the barracks, leaving your ‘bed’ in any other state than bare with folded up sheets was an immediate punishment.

“I’m not a child,” you muttered.

You were determined not to get emotional that day. Set against becoming the mushy tempered little pup you’d been the day before and instead behave like the soldier you were. That way, you figured, he might treat you the way he was supposed to as well. No more surprises, just business as usual.

However you were met with shock again when he’d led you away from bed and pointed at the table you’d sat at the night before. At what was apparently now your seat, there was a steaming styrofoam box with bacon, eggs, toast and beans cooked to perfection and ready for you to eat. The scent was rolling through the air and rushing into your system, overwhelming you as you took an unsure stoop into your chair.

“For me?” you asked, making sure to confirm before picking up the fork and knife laid out.

“Yeah, Price ordered out for us. You’ve got a big day ahead, and he wants you on top form. And apparently I can’t be trusted to sort breakfast,” he said, scoffing at that last part. “Eat up and get ready. I’ll get you at the door in an hour.”

You breathed out a sigh, already not sure what to make of getting such a lavish breakfast, but there was nothing for it. If your new Captain had specifically requested you eat the feast in front of you, then you’d scarf down every last bit of it. Your stomach baulked at the idea of having so much in the morning when you were used to very little, but you ate it all while Ghost busied himself with the dishes from the night before behind you. Apparently he was intent on filling the air with a clattering clanging orchestra.

By the end of your meal, you’d figured that breakfast had to be one of the best you’d ever had, but with good food comes a heavy stomach and it turned you sluggish. It made for a struggle to find your motivation to go to the bathroom and get ready. However you bullied yourself into getting through it, your mental drill sergeant forcing you along until you ended up at the door fully dressed and in your usual black cargos and white T-shirt, tail swishing in anticipation for Ghost.

Your boots were still a bit damp from being in the rain all day before, but you were sure that with whatever Price had planned they’d be smelling like old cheese either way. It didn’t stop your nose wrinkling any less though.

“Do you not have another pair of boots?” Ghost groused, looking you up and down while his heavy steps came thudding up to the door.

He was all wrapped up in his big black jacket. He looked a lot warmer than you did standing there holding off the shakes, but you knew better than to complain. Plus your belly was full of meat and carbs so it helped your body fend off the morning chill.

“We only get issued one set,” you said, looking down at your sodden feet, “I can try to clean them off a bit more, but I figured it would just waste time and make them wetter.”

“Well that’s changing today. You can’t walk around in wet shoes like that, we’re not in world war one,” he grunted. “What else do you need?”

You frowned at him, tilting your head at the question. Why would you need anything else?

“What else would I need?” you asked earnestly, hoping he wouldn’t get annoyed at the stupid question.

“Your bag wasn’t very big and those clothes you were wearing last night were falling to bits. You’ve clearly been sewing them a lot, and not very well,” he laughed. “Tell me what you need and I’ll send for it.”

“I…” you tried to think of something, anything just to avoid looking like an idiot, but you couldn’t. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. I have all the things I’m required to have.”

Your ears folded down, your body was bracing and ready for him to shout at you, instincts winning over your pride. It was bad enough you weren’t able to answer his question, but you’d pretty much disagreed with him as well just by saying you had what you needed. A rookie move, you thought as you admonished yourself.

“Can I see what you brought with you?” Ghost asked, his voice so quiet under the muffling of his mask material.

You bit your lip and nodded, still waiting for the roaring thunder of shouts to begin and start beating against the walls. Instead he just moved his body to the side and motioned for you to go back to your room. You were forced to pass by him, shrugging your shoulders into your neck in anticipation of a grab. Every little creak across the wood felt like a prelude to some larger sound or maybe even a smack, but you were shocked to find that none of what you imagined came to pass.

Once you’d reached your little chest of drawers, you were worked up to hell. There was blood rushing fast in your ears, a river running through your head and you were having to hold your breath just to keep your chest from convulsing. Ghost wouldn’t have noticed your breathing anyway though, while you panicked and waited for him to finally show his anger, he opened your drawers and revealed the barren interiors inside, closing each one with a heavy thunk and a dissatisfied tisk.

“Really, pup, is this all you have?” Ghost sighed, ending his search at the last drawer.

It contained two other pairs of black cargos and your sweats that you’d been wearing the night before. You looked down at it with glassy eyes and then back at Ghost, still waiting for your scolding. Waiting for him to rise up from his crouch and tower over you again.

“Three pairs of trousers, five T-shirts, underwear for the week, and a set of bedclothes,” you listed, trying to keep a hold of yourself. “Plus a sewing kit. That’s what the rules say we need to have. Is there a different regulation here, sir?”

Ghost put his head in his hands for a moment and you pursed your lips, readying yourself for an explosion. Your toes curled and your claws dug into your palms, every fibre of your body was poised for an attack that you had to let happen. There was no way you were going to start the morning off badly with defying your handler on your first official day afterall.

“You should have more than this,” Ghost finally said, his voice an even rumble as always. “You’ve served for a long time, you should have some personal things, darlin’.”

Your fear was now turning to frustration. Now you were at a loss, you didn’t understand what he wanted. Why was he wasting so much time on this clothes issue when you were supposed to go meet Price? The last thing you wanted was for Price to be mad at your late arrival because Ghost was getting caught up on your clothes.

“Have you been wearing your work clothes on day trips?” Ghost asked.

“On…what?”

“When you go off base,” he prodded, now standing up to his full height again. “What do you wear in your downtime?”

“I’ve only ever been off base for missions and off-site training,” you murmured, looking down at your dirty boots. “It’s just hybrids with permanent handlers that get taken out at Branhaven and no one ever wanted to have me until you and Price. Everything I have is in those drawers…apart from some bathroom stuff I put away in the sink cupboard, I made sure I kept it all out of the way of your things though.”

Ghost looked dumbstruck. It was a funny thing, even though you couldn’t see his face you could still tell so much about his expression through his eyes and body. And in that moment his eyes looked lost and his fists were clenched at his sides. You couldn’t figure out why that sentence was what he seemed the most angry at since that whole segue had started, but you couldn’t deny that there was something like a glint of murder in his face.

“Can we just go now, sir?” you asked, looking past his shoulder and hoping you could entice him to drop the whole stupid subject. “Won’t Captain Price be mad if I’m late?”

Ghost untensed his muscles and dropped his hands.

“He won’t be mad, it’ll be fine,” he assured, putting a hand on your shoulder and making you jump. “Woah, easy darlin’. It’s ok. Don’t worry about all this, alright? I’ll talk to you about all this later, but for now you’re right, we should get heading. C’mon.”

You huffed out a sigh of relief when he turned and clutched at your chest for a second, thanking whatever spirit was around that you gave him an effective distraction. Though you dreaded to think the subject was going to be revisited. You were still going to be equally as clueless as to why he was so upset that you didn’t have more…stuff.

You had no idea what that stuff was supposed to be or what you’d need it for when you had perfectly sufficient things that you could always repair whenever that was required. Anything else was just stupid, you were just a hybrid. What would you do with personal items or civilian clothes? It’s not like you were bursting with photos to frame or had any events to look nice for.

It was all so stupid! You put it out your mind and compartmentalised, following silently at Ghost's big back as he took wide strides across the smooth paving and over to his car. You never were good with remembering makes or what logos were what, but what you did know was that It was huge and black and practically gleaming it was so clean. It was clearly something that he took pride in.

It made you purse your lips once inside, entirely mindful of how spotless his matching black leather interior was. It didn’t seem very conducive with wolf fur so you opted to grab your tail and hold it round your front once you were seated, hoping you could stop yourself from shedding all over the place and creating another uncomfortable conversation. Even though the angle hurt and needled at your old injury, you muscled through with gritted teeth, summoning all your strength for whatever lay ahead.

Besides, you thought as the engine roared to life, the pain almost made up for the lack of punishment before. It put your head back into order.

…

“Well well, look who finally decided to show up.”

You’d already gotten out of Ghost’s car with your heart in your throat after seeing you were ten minutes later than he’d said you needed to be. Now standing at the foot of the office, Price’s words had you wincing. You panicked and looked from the Captain sitting at his shaky old desk and then back up at Ghost in the doorway, internally cursing him for taking up your precious time with all of his nonsense about clothes.

“Somethin’ came up,” Ghost shrugged, settling one of his hands across your back and on your shoulder. “Fair warning - this one’ll have a heart attack if you pretend to get mad, so consider your next words carefully.”

Price raised his brows and looked straight at you then, smiling with that signature crinkly eyed grin of his. You remembered his face well, you’d always been thrown by how kind it looked when you’d gone away with him. You weren’t used to Captain’s like him, not accustomed to anyone giving you smiles and encouraging praise.

At the start of the mission he’d made sure to emphasise he’d be looking out for you through his scope and had Gaz ready with a rifle if anyone had tried to intercept your tracking. Then after you’d returned home he’d made a point of taking you for a burger before he took you back to your base, even letting you sit in his warm truck and enjoy it properly.

“Well we don’t want that, do we? C’mon, love, take a seat and we’ll go over some things before you go see the other two,” Price said, pointing to one of the chairs in front of him.

You complied immediately, forgetting about your rush of memories, racing to sit down to a point you were almost sprinting to the chair. Price kept the smile on his face while Ghost sat beside you, both men sharing a look while you anxiously waited to hear what Price was going to say. You couldn’t help but fidget with your tail, digging your fingers deep into the wiry top layer of fur and into the soft tufts underneath.

“Ghost filled me in on what happened yesterday,” Price said, brows lifting as he tilted his head down at you. “And we want you to know that’s not how we wanted to manage the transfer. So first off, I just want to make sure you’re doing ok. How do you feel about the new arrangement?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. As much as you liked the Captian, you still didn’t expect him to mirror Ghost’s strange behaviour and ask about your feelings. He hadn’t said much to you before when you’d gone away with him, there weren’t any good markers to see if this was normal behaviour.

It all made you wonder if you’d been taken away to some kind of opposite land where hybrids seemed to mean something. Then again, you thought bitterly, perhaps this was all a test, just to see how you’d respond.

“Fine, sir,” you answered, fingers threading tighter through your tail.

Ghost and Price shared another look. Price’s mouth quirked as if he had gathered something from the stare that Ghost gave him.

“Ok…well that’s good. Do you have any questions for us?

“No, sir. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, I’m ready,” you said, giving a little nod for emphasis.

Price chuckled, but the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. You were sure you’d said something wrong, but if pressed to answer what that was…you wouldn’t know what to say.

“I’m glad that you’re keen to get started, that’s a good sign. I’m not looking for you to dive right into working though, I want you to have questions and ask us things, so go ahead. You must have something you want to know.”

You sighed and looked down at your tail again, stomach feeling all the heavier after that breakfast. There were a lot of questions floating around your head, but every little piece of you was crying out to just shut up.

Hybrids don’t ask questions, they follow orders.

You had been told to ask your questions though. It would surely make him angrier to be denied, you reasoned to yourself.

“Why me, sir?” You asked, looking up from your lap.

“Why’d we want you on the team? I liked working with ya, you were quiet, efficient, had a keen focus as well. Simple as that really. We needed a hybrid and I thought you’d be a good fit with us.”

“A good fit, sir? Why?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Everyone on the taskforce is someone that I can count on. I’ve worked with each one of ‘em at various times in my career and I know that they’ll deliver every time I ask them to go out on the field. You did well on that mission you joined us on, and

when looked over your record after, I was impressed with your results to say the least. Makes you a great candidate for the 141.”

“I’ve never had anyone mention anything good about my record before you both,” you muttered. “Are you sure they didn’t mix up the file handover, Captain?”

Price shook his head and reached his hand across the table, warm skin enclosing over yours as he held his palm over the back of your hand. You felt your ears perk up in surprise. He was…touching you? And not for corrective reasons either!

“I can assure you it was the right one, love. There wasn’t anything I saw on there that made me think you couldn’t do this job,” he said, giving your hand a quick pat before withdrawing again. “It ain’t all about staying out of trouble.”

You looked up at him and said nothing then, completely silenced by his thoughtful gesture. You’d gotten in plenty of trouble, that was for sure, but you only ever acted like a little shit with the assholes back on your base. Things were different now. You didn’t know how to orient yourself, didn’t know how to behave in your new circumstances.

Instinct said to ignore all the fluffy behaviour and just get through the day doing what you were told, but there was a tiny part of you that really wanted to believe that maybe the men in that room had your best interests at heart - maybe, just maybe this was the break you’d always secretly hoped for. Not that you gave that part of yourself much credence, its voice was too similar to that of the young pup that said that maybe your family would come back for you one day. Maybe they’d realise they made a mistake dropping you off and they’d let you come home again. Stupid stupid little wolf that you were to ever even have a notion like that.

“Well, I’ll do my best regardless, Sir,” you smiled, hoping he’d move on and get the day going.

“Good to hear. Do you have anything else you’d like to know before we get stuck in?”

“No, sir,” you said a little too eagerly.

He laughed at that. His chuckling low, deep and earthy as the cigar scent that permeated around him. There was something so naturally easy about Price, something that had you relaxing even while you wondered if you were going to get in trouble for not being interested enough to ask more.

“Well, first things first, welcome to the 141. As you’re the first hybrid member, I expect there will be a learning curve for us all, so we’re going to be training hard over the next few weeks while we get used to each other. Ghost is the only one of us fully trained in hybrid handling, so all of us will be taking his lead while we learn to work properly together out on the field. You’ll be with Ghost for your first few missions, but after that initial few weeks pass you can be sent out with any of the team at any time. You’re not just getting sent on assignment anymore and you’re not dealing with the likes of your old base, you’re dealing with very intense work,” Price said, taking a sharp intake of breath as his tone changed. “You’re going to be out with us in all manner of terrains and situations, and oftentimes under heavy fire. We can be sent anywhere at anytime, and when a target is discovered we need to act quick. We deal with very prolific HVT’s and even in high stress, they need to be brought in safely for interrogation. All this is to say, you’re not expected to act like a mutt anymore, I don’t need that on my team. I want you to be sharp and take initiative, I will need you to communicate with us and to share your thoughts rather than blindly follow orders even when you know they’ll lead to trouble. Your perspective is valuable, you can hear better and sniff out danger that we can’t, so if you flag something then tell us. Do you think you can do that?”

You raised your brows, head heating in malfunction, not at all ready for the big speech your new captain had imparted on you. Learning to act like a ‘mutt’ was the only thing that had ever been drilled into you. It was the reason you’d been met with so much trouble at the beginning of your career, the main reason your original handlers had encouraged the others to beat you that little bit harder and to make your life more miserable than the rest. You’d been shoved into submission all your life and told to shut the fuck up and do as you were told, you’d never ever been told your perspective was valuable.

You weren’t even given a mic to communicate with out on the field when you started, you were just supposed to follow orders as they came to you. You’d learned ever since then not to speak unless asked.

“Not to question you, but…just to clarify. You’re telling me you want me to go against orders, sir?”

“Well for example… I tell you to walk into a building and you can smell that it’s riddled with explosives, then yes. I expect you to raise the alarm when the situation calls for it. I don’t need a hybrid that’s going to go out and get themselves killed just to please me, I need someone that can get the job done and help get everyone back safe. Lives and mission success are more important than ego to me everytime, you will never be punished for acting in the interest of the team, which now includes you. Understand?”

“So just to get this clear, you’re giving me blanket permission to talk on comms - to give my opinion to you whenever I have one?” you asked incredulously.

“Precisely. This should help with that,” he smiled, pulling something from out of the groaning top drawer of his desk and sliding it across to you.

You reached out and accepted it, holding the strip of dark leather between your fingers and admiring how smooth and thick it felt, how high quality it was. Not missing the numbers 141, that were stamped into its side. It was a new collar. Outfitted with a built in mic and specialised remote lock, one that could be unlocked if it became snagged or got you into trouble in a fight. You were pretty sure it had a longer tracking range than standard collars too, and even came with a shiny D ring for tags. This was the kind of thing that hybrids wore when they were prized by their teams, owned by the sort of people that actually cared if you came back to them.

“Is this really for me?” you asked sceptically, taking a hand off of the new collar and touching the one already round your neck, sliding a finger over the bruised skin at its rough sides.

“Course it is. We can have it changed or altered if you’re not happy with it,” Price noted, watching your reaction carefully.

“It’s perfect as is, best bit of kit I’ve ever gotten” you said quickly, running your fingers all the way down the bumpy stitching. “Thank you, sir.”

“Shall we get this thing off then?” Ghost said, speaking up from his place next to you.

You looked over at him and followed his eyeline realising what he meant, touching your old collar once again. You didn’t need convincing. You nodded and tipped your head forward, letting him access the buckle at the back before unclipping and letting it loose, leaving you unmarked to the world for a minute, just another hybrid without a claim.

It was weird being bared like that, honestly you felt like he’d taken off your shirt or your trousers. You always wore your collar, and now that it was off you felt little better than a worm on a bait hook, wriggling uncomfortably at the sensation of air on your bare flesh.

Order was restored when Ghost took your new collar and wrapped it around you, clicking it into place with a cheerful clink from the new locking mechanism. You sighed and let out the tension in your muscles, closing your eyes a second before straightening up and looking at Price and Ghost, checking over their satisfied faces.

“Good to have you officially on the team, pup,” Ghost said with what was surely a grin. “Just need to put your tags on.”

He took your ID tag from your old collar and slotted it on to the D ring at the front of your neck, then produced a handler tag from his pocket, letting you see it while he fiddled with the tag already round your neck. You took it in your hands and thumbed over the bumpy metal letters and rubber edges, tilting your head as you looked it over.

LT Ghost

#09-2022

141

You’d always had the base information on your team tag, or had to wear a temporary one when you were sent on long deployments assigned to work with other teams. Even then you’d always get a building ID or some other number that would link you back with some office somewhere. You'd never worn someone else's name around your neck before, but now you were going to be linked to Ghost for the rest of your days. If anyone found you and reported your handler’s number to the relevant authorities they’d get a direct line to him.

For a man that hadn’t even revealed his face to you, he was incredibly willing to hang such a big responsibility around your neck. You bit your lip and watched as he took the tag from you, fixing it in place behind your ID tag. His heavy breaths were escaping from behind his balaclava for a moment, he was in deep concentration trying to manouver the little tag with his huge hands. You grinned when you heard him swear at it.

“There, you’re stuck with me now,” he said matter of factly, giving the tags a playful tug when he was done. “How’s the collar feel? Not too tight?”

“It’s good, sir,” you shrugged, still marvelling that he was willing to take you on. “Feels a lot better than the old one.”

“That’s cause this,” he grunted, throwing your old collar into Price’s wastebin. “Was a piece of shit.”

You snorted out a laugh and watched as it disappeared into a mass of paper, going deep down to its crinkly death. You couldn’t disagree. It had been rough and frayed either age for far too long and they’d used it to grab you and haul you around like a hay bale for even longer. This new collar, was much smoother an….

d far more pleasant on your neck.

“It suits you,” Price smiled. “I know you’ll be a great addition to the team…that said, are you ready to go meet Gaz and Soap?”

#simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader #reign down on me

821 notes · View notes

dfortrafalgar · 2 months

Text

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader- Offscreen)

Sanji reaches out to Zeff for the first time in years.

I wrote this many, many months ago now, and it was the first fic i posted anonymously on AO3. I got a few requests after it was originally posted to write a second part, which I eventually did!

You can read Part 2 here! Original AO3 link

(I figured I should let my blog breathe a little in between the really heavy and emotional Law fic im writing, and what better way to cool down than some sanji fluff <3)

A sharp squawk awoke Red-Leg Zeff from his daze. With a grumpy expression and a low grunt, he peered towards the direction of the sound.

A messenger coo was seated on the railing of the Baratie's upper deck next to where Zeff stood slouched over with his forearms leaning against the wooden support. It cocked its head to the side as if it was deconstructing Zeff's appearance before reaching into its pouch and procuring a parchment envelope. Zeff found it strange. Messenger coos only usually delivered the newspapers or the latest bounty reports, very rarely were they put in charge of personalized letters. It must have been paid off by whoever wanted this delivered.

The gruff man took the parchment from the beak of the bird and watched as it took back off into the air, leaving a few molted white feathers behind in its wake. He looked at the envelope.

All it said on the front, in very elegant handwriting, was "Captain Zeff." He flipped the paper around, revealing a wax stamp holding the opening down, which he peeled off with a calloused thumb.

Tucked neatly inside the envelope was a white piece of paper, tri-folded over itself. Zeff slipped the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the written contents of the letter. The penmanship was impeccable, and the ink was very sleek. He knew immediately it was from Sanji, not many other pirates had handwriting as good as his. He had completely lost track of how many years it had been since the curly-browed boy left with that ragtag group of pirates to sail to the Grand Line, but Zeff had every single one of his bounty posters. He'd never admit it, but they were tacked up on the wall of his sleeping quarters. Every time Sanji's bounty increased, Zeff felt pride swell in his heart.

"How are you doing, you old geezer. It's been a little too long since we've had any contact, so I thought I'd write to you just to see how you've been. You're no slouch, I'm sure you've been keeping up with the world's events over the past however-many years. Do the Marines even bother to keep sending our bounty posters to the Baratie anymore? Well, regardless, I'm sure you can read right through me. I can't deny it, I miss you, old man. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and such a huge part of that is thanks to you and the guys back on that old cruiser. Every recipe I try to make, I imagine you screaming in my ear and telling me that it tastes like shit. Some days I really wish I could be back there, but most of the time I'm joyful. Life has been really, really good. A few years ago, I met someone. Last year, we got married, and soon after our lives changed so drastically. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and she's as sweet as an angel. I mean it, too. I know you'd probably think something along the lines of me playing up my affections again just because she's a pretty woman, but I mean it. You'd love her, Zeff. Living as a pirate is the most stressful thing anyone could ever do, but she makes every day worth it. The crew was discussing the possibility of returning to the East Blue a bit ago, and when we do, I'm going to introduce you to her. I've spent the last years talking all about you, how you taught me everything I know about cooking, and I can tell she's just as excited as I am to finally see you. This letter's gone on long enough and I don't want to use up all of Nami's paper.

-- Sanji"

Zeff felt a lump in the back of his throat. Sanji had grown into such a fine young man, eloquent with his words and his feelings. He knew how big of a deal it was for the boy to be so honest and open. But one thing in the letter caught him off guard. What did he mean by, "Soon after our lives changed drastically."?

Zeff peered into the envelope, where another, smaller envelope was tucked inside. He almost didn't see it. Pulling it out, he held the letter and original envelope in between his fingers while he opened the second. Sanji was thorough with his packaging, that's for sure.

Inside, there were three photographs printed on thin, matted paper. The first was of Sanji and you, the wife he wrote about in his letter, taken by someone else holding the camera. Sanji had his arm around you, holding you against him, and you had your face nuzzled into his neck. His other hand held a cigarette away from the two of you, like he was in the middle of telling a story. The two of you were smiling brighter than the sun, Sanji's eyes completely closed with the motion of laughter, and yours creased, your irises looking up towards him.

The second photo made Zeff's eyes water. A photo of you and Sanji on the deck of the Sunny, exchanging rings. Sanji was wearing a sleek navy blue tuxedo, while you were wearing a gorgeous white ballgown. For pirates, you cleaned up phenomenally. He could just make out tears in Sanji's eyes as the photo displayed you sliding a band onto his finger. A skeleton with poofy hair stood between the two of you, which Zeff found a little odd, but he chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Zeff flipped to the last photo.

The tears that were welling in his eyes from the previous image finally slid down his cheeks in heavy, salty droplets. His lip quivered.

Sanji sat in a chair, beaming down at a bundle of cloth held gently in his arm. He was crying in this photo as well, and was reaching a finger over the top of the bundle, where a smaller hand was reaching outwards to grab onto it. A small glimpse of blonde hair could be made out from under the cloth securing the baby tightly. On the back of the film, Sanji wrote the birth date and the name of the baby.

Zeff used a sleeve to wipe his blubbering eyes. His lips quivered, but he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

Was he allowed to call himself a grandfather now? He figured it was only appropriate.

#fem reader #reader insert #x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #special delivery

220 notes · View notes

sluttywoozi · 7 months

Text

Adore You | Chapter 2 | kmg x f!reader

I'd walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.8k | Genre: rom com, fluff, smut, office au

Warnings: power imbalance bc reader is his boss but he’s the one doing the pursuing, personal assistant!mingyu, he’s such a simp, mention of food, suggestive thoughts

Reader Notes: wears a skirt and heels, boss bitch, touch starved, gets nails done, wap, referred to as a woman

Step 2. Show you how well he can take care of you.

Two weeks later, you seem happier than ever. You’re eating all of the lunches Mingyu makes for you, you’re drinking more water than coffee for once, and you haven’t mentioned Derek again at all.

The project also seems to be going smoothly with the extra time allotted, though he hears you placating the higher ups on the phone nearly every day. It bothers him that they don’t trust you, that they don’t believe in your ability to get it done and get it done well, but you and Mingyu both know you can and that’s all that matters.

That and the fact that it’s let him do even more things for you. More time spent on the phone is less time spent answering emails, and you’ve started allowing him to draft responses for you, to decide what’s important and what isn’t, to arrange and dissolve meetings as he sees fit.

He feels such a thrill every time you send out an email he wrote or approve one of the appointments he set, and it only gets more exhilarating when you call him into your office and ask him to sit down.

You don’t have any engagements for over an hour and lunch just finished, so he’s not sure what exactly he’s needed for. He sits across from you gingerly, his body just a touch too big for the chair opposite you, and folds his hands in his lap.

“Mingyu, I wanted to talk about your role here,” you begin, clearing a space on your desk for a set of forms he doesn’t recognize.

“Oh… Okay,” he knows he sounds apprehensive, but he’s doing his best to push down the fear that you’ll demote him, or fire him, or transfer him, though he knows he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a thing.

“You’ve been working for me for, what, half the year?” He nods to confirm, though he wants to tell you it’s been exactly 27 weeks. “And in that time, I feel like you’ve gotten to know me really well. In the last two weeks, I realized you’ve also gotten to know the inner workings of my job really well.”

He nods again, wiping his sweaty palms on his slacks and doing his best to pretend he’s not freaking out. He doesn’t know where you’re going with this, can only hope it leads to more praise and not him filling a cardboard box with all the trinkets on his desk.

“You’ve taken on a lot of the responsibilities of an executive assistant but you’re still being recognized and paid as my personal assistant. I don’t think that’s fair, so if you’re willing, I’d like to promote you.”

He’s so excited he could vibrate out of his skin, but he needs the assurance that he won’t be shared with anyone else.

“Would I still work just for you?”

“Yes, if that’s what you want.”

“It is,” he rushes to say, nodding for good measure as he grips the armrests of the chair.

He sees your lips twitch, like you want to smile at him but you want to keep your composure more, and Mingyu can’t contain the beam that rises on his face in response. You take the stack of forms in hand, tap them on your desk, and hold them out to him. He reaches with shaking hands to accept the papers from you before staring down at them like they hold all the secrets to the universe.

They kind of do, because they mean his plan is working. Sure, he didn’t set out looking to get a promotion, but he’ll take it as a sign that you appreciate his efforts and take it as inspiration to work even harder.

You tell him he can fill out the forms at his desk but he stays, working silently alongside you until the blanks aren’t blanks and his signature covers the pages. You look up at him again when he gently places the papers on the edge of your desk, your lips finally stretched in an indulgent smile as you say, “Can you take those over to HR? They’re expecting you.”

He nods, telling you in his mind that he absolutely can and that he’ll even stop at the ground floor coffee shop on his way back to replenish your caffeine stores. You’ve already had coffee today but you’re both planning on staying late to work on some of the finer details of the project, so he knows you’ll need it.

Mingyu won’t, your presence has all of the effects on him that caffeine does. Shaking hands, racing heart, whirling mind, he experiences all of those when he’s near you, and now that he’s working closer to you than ever, he’s even stopped getting his morning coffee. The jog and journal entry are just as effective, and cutting back means he can make your lunches even fancier.

He works on his lunch pinterest board as he waits in line at the cafe, taking into account what he’s already made you and what you seemed to like best. Today is bulgogi braised steak and stir fried veggies, and he’s excited for you to try it.

When he gets to the front of the line, he ignores the blatant flirting of the barista and orders your standard, paying with his credit card and a smile and standing off to the side to wait. His mind wanders back to his plan, back to the fact that you haven’t had a partner-assisted orgasm in six months, and he feels a frown tugging down the corners of his lips.

He could make you feel so good, make you so happy, if only you’d give him the chance.

Convincing you to cross the boundary will be difficult, but he’s hoping that his efforts will ease the way, show you that taking care of you is part of his job and all he’d be doing is adding another duty to his job description.

Now, as he walks to the elevator with coffee in hand, he has to admit that his endeavor isn’t purely selfless. All this time working for you has led to a bit of a… crush. A crush that means he hasn’t dated since he started working for you, a crush that means he also hasn’t had a partner-assisted orgasm in just as long, a crush that means you’re the only one he really wants.

He knows he probably can’t date you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have you, at least in some way. And this is the only way he can think of, a way that’s mostly for you and partly for him, as all things should be.

Step 3: Help you shed some of your professionalism.

The next step in his plan will be the most difficult yet, but if he does it right, it’ll be the last too. You’re a professional, through and through, and Mingyu knows you’ll never give in if you don’t feel more comfortable with him. Bringing you lunches and becoming your executive assistant has helped, but there’s still a separation, a distance that he can’t help but want to close.

It helps that you keep that distance with everyone, but, being your assistant, Mingyu feels that he should be a special case. He’s not quite sure how he’ll show you that, but asking about your weekend plans seems like a good start.

Until you tell him what your plans are, that is.

“I have a blind date. Apparently, he works in the industry so our mutual friend thought we’d hit it off,” you shrug, as if you haven’t just pulled the rug out from under him.

Fuck, he has to strike before you start dating again, because dating usually means sex and sex means someone other than Mingyu might be making you cum and that just won’t work for him. When he started all this, it was mostly about making sure you were treated like you deserved but now, it’s imperative to him that he’s the one treating you like you deserve.

“Oh, that sounds nice,” he forces out, lifting the corners of his mouth and hoping it’s enough to pass for a smile.

“I don’t have high expectations,” you respond in a nonchalant tone, squinting at something on your computer.

“You should.”

…

He shouldn’t have said that, shit, he shouldn’t have said that, but it’s too late now.

He could laugh it off, act like it was a joke, but he sounded too sincere, too plaintive for it to be anything but the truth. He can tell you’re surprised at his vehemence, as he doesn’t normally talk back to you, and he takes in a deep breath when you tilt your head and furrow your brows.

This must be when you remind him of his place, when you tell him that he’s overstepped his bounds and gotten too personal, but even as he hangs his head and folds his hands together, you don’t. You don’t say anything, and he glances up at you, expecting to find a disappointed expression but instead finding a pensive one.

“You’re right, Mingyu. I should have high expectations. When did I let them get so low?”

You’re asking yourself but, emboldened by your response, he answers anyway, “When you started dating Derek instead of me.”

“Instead of you?” You chuckle wistfully, “Mingyu, you’re my subordinate. You're not an option.”

“Maybe I’m not technically an option, but under the table, or… under the desk, I could be.”

You stare at him like you’re waiting for the punchline, but there won’t be one because he’s not joking. He’s fully serious, no matter how inappropriate it may be to offer yourself to your boss. Of course, if you say no, he’ll be packing his bags and taking the first train he can find out of pure shame and embarrassment, but if you say yes…

If you say yes, he’ll drop to his knees right here and now.

He can’t tell which way you’re leaning, your face impassive and your eyes stormy, and he’s a bit afraid of what you’ll say so he takes the opportunity to excuse himself.

“I’ll let you think about it, just let me know if you need anything. And I mean anything,” he says, backing towards your door and feeling around for the handle so he doesn’t have to show you his back. He bows before exiting, and as the door closes, he catches you dropping your face into your hands.

He didn’t mean to add more to your plate, but you deserve to know he’s a possibility. How else can you make an informed decision?

Next Chapter

Adore You Masterlist

Adore You Taglist

My Masterlist

AN: pls activate my praise kink by reblogging 😍

431 notes · View notes

bellewintersroe · 8 months

Text

Fernando Alonso x YoungerCeleb! OC Smut.

Lila Mae is a 24 year old actress and model who’s also becoming notorious as a huge F1 fan on Tik Tok. When she gets the opportunity to interview certain drivers on the paddock, an older Fernando Alonso is smitten and the two find themselves fucking in the Aston Martin garages.

warnings: smut, age gap, flirting, oral, very fast burn, sex, anal play, you name it. Lila and Fernando get down and dirty in an intense first meeting.

Fernando stripped off his overalls within the first 2 minutes of the interview with the younger, beautiful woman. Lila, her name was, Fernando recognised her from occasionally watching the races, he’d seen her on TV. Despite being almost 20 years his senior he found himself sweating over her presence. Lila’s eyes fell down to his black fireproofs, the man flashing her a smirk in response. There was not a singular hint of subtleness between the pair, the flirting was hard core and Lila was stunned by how quickly she became attracted to Alonso, a man she’d watched and idolised for years.

“It is getting warm in here- anyway congratulations on the podium today, I’m excited to see you next week.” Her head tilted to the side, smiling sweetly as Alonso’s lips spread, watching back to her pushing her glasses further up on the bridge of her nose.

“The interview is over?” His brows furrowed slightly, Lila felt her lower stomach flutter. “Well that’s all we have time for today.”

“But you will be back next week, for Spain?”

“No, no. They just brought me out for Monaco.” She giggled, eyes roaming over his front once again. Fernando wasn’t hard, at least she thought he wasn’t, but Lila could she the bulge that poked through his fireproofs. It turned her on, she’d be lying if she she said she wasn’t horny.

The thought made her cheeks burn red, kinda like how they were when she first saw him. Except this time was different, she was longing for a man she’d met five minutes prior. Fernando’s eyes were glistening back into hers, he’d reached out, resting on the railing behind the pair. Lila subconsciously sunk a little closer to him.

“You should come back, no?” He glanced around. “She does better than half of them out there.” He nudged slightly at her upper arm, she purses her lips and glanced at his hand before back up to his eyes- and lips.

“I’m in Paris next week.” She shrugged, “no, you are in Spain.” He half teased. Lila felt as though she’d fold any minute. I’m wherever the hell you want me to be- she thought to herself.

Lila smiled and a hum escaped her closed mouth, Fernando gulped at the sound, imagining what other noises she would make. He felt the twitch of his dick in his pants and he shamefully shook the thoughts away. This was a 24 year old woman, too young for him. But she was beautiful, asking him all the right things, her voice was smooth and she was eyeing him up in all the right ways. “Maybe I will have to make a detour.” She spike causing him to chuckle once again. And she was funny. Fernando was charmed instantaneously. When the camera’s were off them, just how he liked it, he continued his conversation with her.

“Do you have anymore interviews today?”

“No, you’re my last one.” Her arm rested on the same railing he did, hand grazing ever so slightly against the bare of her arm.

“I can show you around, the garages are empty at this time. If you would like, of course?” He stammered a little on the end, other than that he felt like it was all going smoothly. Fernando hated to admit it but he could feel the warmth of his cheeks beginning to glow. Lila noticed it and found it endearing.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” She stepped a little closer, Nando gave her a slight pat on the back, fingers lingering on her exposed back. Only then did he get a true sight of her dress, her figure was beautiful, one of a goddess. He had to bite his lip to prevent his jaw dropping.

“I’ve never been in one before.” Lila sighed gently, walking closely besides the driver. Her shoulder brushed against his arm, gazing up to him. Now the two of them were alone, she so desperately wanted to make a move.

“I have- obviously.” He dumbly spoke, causing her to laugh at how he face palmed after. “That was stupid.” He pointed out, blushing harder at the fact she was giggling away.

“Just a little bit.” She playfully knocked into him the two of them sharing eye contact. His eyes fell down, scanning her in a way that evokes his hunger perfectly. His eyes were lidded and pupils were blown, Lila scanned over him with the exact same expression, feeling her pussy begin to ache with an insatiable need for Fernando.

She didn’t move away, neither did he, they both walked side by side, their steps unconsciously growing faster towards the so called empty garages. Fernando prayed to every god above that it was empty, and it paid off. It was completely deserted, the smaller rooms too were completely isolated.

“Oh, the doors are locked.” He pointed out, closing the only open door behind them. “Why?” She faced him, slipping off her glasses. Getting a real sight of her eyes and unobstructed face, Alonso thought he would faint- in a good way. Obviously.

“You look beautiful.” He commented, the compliment falling off his lips. He couldn’t deny the slight nervous sensation that followed. Lila thought her breath caught in her throat.

“Thank you. I’m just- a bit blind without them.” She shrugged, placing them absent mined, down onto one side.

“Oh.” He laughed, glancing down to his shoes. “But… they’re locked because everybody is celebrating.”

“Isnt that where you should be?” She giggled, stepping closer, head tilting up to him.

“I would rather be showing you around.”

“How nice.” She giggled, voice cracking, before glancing around the vast room. Two cars stood in the middle, she’d never been so up close to one before. “Oh my god.”

“You can go closer.” He nodded, following behind as she stepped in front of the car. “It’s smaller than what I thought.” She laughed, glancing up to him. Stepping back slightly, her shoulder touched his chest and she felt butterflies emerge again.

“Do you think?” He muttered, voice lower, she tilted her head to the side, exposing the bare skin on her neck further. Fernando wanted so badly to kiss her, but he worried she’d become weirded out. Instead, he reached out slightly, fingers grazing against the outside of her upper thigh. Lila let out an audible breath, turning to face him a little over her shoulder. Her finger tips grazed over the top of his hand, flattening his palm against her dress. On instinct, Fernando stepped closer, she borderline pulled him against her body, feeling her curves in all the right places.

Her hand guided his, resting on her lower stomach before sliding up to her breasts, his fingers squeezed against the flesh and he felt his dick stand to attention, pushed up against her upper bum. With that, she turned around quickly, attaching their lips, hands grabbing at one another and pulling each other closer, tighter, desperately. She pushed her hips up into his, desiring the idea of the older man being so hard for her.

His hands squeezed at her ass, material of her dress pinching between his fingers, almost revealing her. Fernando felt the slide of her hand against the back of his neck, their breathing becoming heavier as they stumbled slightly. He almost lost complete control of himself, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation before he pulled back.

“Not in here. There are cameras.” Instead, he took her hands, pulling her into a small changing room, locking the door behind the two of them.

She stood, lost for breath as he strode towards her again, cradling her face within his and kissing her deeply once more. It was so exciting, the pure passion and hunger between basically two strangers. Lila’s grip loosened off his fireproofs before falling down to his crotch in which the fabric had become painfully tight.

Her hand wrapping around his throbbing cock almost made him finish there and then. Fernando thought that would’ve been highly embarrassing and he knew better, especially at 42 years old. In return, he began pulling at her dress, fingers roughly finding her clothed pussy in which he began rubbing seductively.

It wasn’t long before their pants began filling the room. Lila felt her head spinning as their tongues move against one another’s, teeth occasionally clashing when he’d move forwards, attempting to pull her dress over her head. “Wait.” She giggled slipping the material off her shoulder. “Oh.” Alonso smiled, gently brushing it down off her. Her bare breasts were revealed, pierced nipples driving him crazy as he physically moaned, moving forwards, dipping her back romantically and kissing over her chest.

Lila loved when men paid attention to the sensitive of her breasts. Fernando was perfect at it. His lips and tongue sucked and brushed over her nipples and her moans began filling the room, one hand resting on the back of his head, knocking his cap off, the other pressing against the stone wall. “Oh god.” She began sighing, Fernando thought her moans were sinful and was only pushed to fully free her of her dress, simultaneously rubbing at her pussy once again.

When her hand found his, she guided him under her panties, Fernando felt himself moan in sync with her at the wetness which pooled there, yanking them off with this other hand whilst she stepped out. There she was, a fucking Angel, completely stripped naked in front of him. He wanted to spend all the time in the world with her there and then, but they were both so desperate.

His fingers worked to find her clit, pleasuring her, her head feeling heavy as she rested her forehead against his, breathing heavily as he rubbed her through her folds. “Fernando.” She moaned out his name, when his middle finger slipped inside of her. He kissed her again, although he made it difficult because of the moans he was causing to escape from her lips.

Lila felt so wet, so tight yet so ready for him. Fernando felt himself becoming weak in the knees, so desperate to fall before her and watch her pleasure grow as he used his mouth. He followed what his body told him to do and hooked a leg over his shoulder, kissing the side of her pussy before directly over her slit.

Lila thought she might go crazy, so pulled his shirt off from over his shoulders, before he properly attached his mouth to her aching core. Fernando was a fucking demon at eating pussy, he pleasured her so well that she was lightheaded from panting so hard. He’d pushed her against the wall, not so rough, but it was enough to make her grind against his mouth for more.

Mixing a finger into the mix, Lila thought she was going crazy, biting down on her thumb in order to not moan so loud. Fernando watched her, enchanted by her beautiful face, contorted with pleasure. He wanted more, he needed more. His cock throbbed so desperately in his pants that he had to reach down and squeeze himself for some sort of relief.

“Fernando.” Her voice cracked as she writhed against the wall, fingers tangled in his hair, he pulled himself up swiftly, wiping his mouth before pressing his lips to hers once again. “Please.” She whispered, pushing at his pants. When she felt the flesh of his large cock in her hands she didn’t hesitate to stand on her tip toes, lifting a leg up over his waist to slide inside of her. Lila was too short, so Fernando lifted her, their kiss becoming deeper as he slipped so easily inside of her.

The stretch of her pussy was something both of them moaned at, their finger tips digging into one another as he grasped at her ass, ducking slowly into her, careful not to hurt the petite girl. She was so young, so pretty and gorgeous, he thought he might’ve lost his mind for doing this with a stranger, but who could blame him when she looked as good as she did.

He fucked into her with all the passion he had, their love making was intense and desperate, their needs and desires playing out in an animalistic session.

“God, you feel so good.” She tugged at his hair. In return he spanked at the flesh of her ass, finger tips brushing closer against her hole that Alonso so desperately wanted to fill. She whimpered at the spank, so he did it again, grunting at the way she writhed on his cock, hips gyrating in time with his thrusts.

His finger tips, again, probed near her hole, the area wet from her arousal, he noticed when he touched her there her moans and pleads became more intense, so slowly, so slowly, he pushed a finger in, causing her to feel so full with Fernando.

“Oh my god.” She moaned, bouncing harder as he pushed his finger in, mesmerised by her as she gripped onto his shoulder with one arm, the other circulating over her clit.

“Mierda.” He cursed, feeling her pussy tighten around his cock. She had no idea what his Spanish meant, but it was fucking sexy. She leant back, watching back to his pleasured face as she bounced against him, his finger still filling her asshole, something that drove her over the edge.

“I’m gonna cum.” She warned with a choke. Fernando felt so proud as her orgasm began to unfold right in front of him. “Cum. Yes, cum for me.” He hushed, her muscles tensing as she climbed to reach her orgasm, his thrusts becoming even harder, borderline animalistic as he fucked her up to, and through her high.

Lila came crashing down in the most overwhelming orgasm that had her crying out. Fernando felt he was close to following, but when he placed a hand on his chest, sensitive from her orgasm, he slowed down, milking her through her orgasm. Her body trembled, her voice broke with each throb of her pussy, she felt like she’d been sent to oblivion and back, so he soothed her with a deep kiss.

“So good.” He hushed, cock twitching. She regained her senses and hummed against his lips, feeling him pull his finger and cock out and ease her down onto the the ground. Lila felt a little wobbly but fell to her knees. “You don’t ha-” Alonso went to protest, but she’d already taken him in her mouth.

The bobbing of her head drove him crazy, he was seething, hissing with pleasure, and when he felt it, he was embarrassed of how quick it happened. He tapped on her head as a warning and she simply replaced her lips with her hand and began jerking him off, onto the floor below with a slight moan.

Fernando’s vision went white before he screwed his eyes back, head falling back in undeniable pleasure, a warm sensation rushing through his cock and abdomen as he squirted his seed out onto the floor below. It was something to worry about cleaning up later. He let out the hottest groan followed by pants as he gasped for his breath back, his fingers loosening in the grip he didn’t realise he had on her hair before she stood up, the two of them sharing one of the hottest kisses Fernando could imagine.

“I was supposed to interview Max… but I got carried away with you.” She giggled, Alonso smiled and began, enjoying the way she was hanging her arms over his shoulder.

“I’ll be around in Silverstone… maybe I will see you then.” Quicker than she appeared, Lila vanished again and Fernando was left with the humbling task of cleaning up after himself. It didn’t take long, but he felt a little disappointed she’d left. His mind was still foggy from the love making, his high still bubbled through him but yet when he scanned the garage for her she was gone. The only thing which was left was her glasses, resting neatly to one side. Alonso was careful to place them inside his pocket. At least he had a reason to sought her out once more.

#fernando alonso x oc #fernando alonso #fernando alonso smut #alonso x oc #Alonso x oc smut #Alonso smut #F1 x oc #f1 smut #alonso x reader #Alonso x reader smut

552 notes · View notes

soaringthroughthegalaxy · 3 months

Note

hi!! just read both of your wrecker works and rineicbeijcwjkdjs LOVED THEM!! wrecker’s my fav of tbb and i really feel like he needs more love😭 i'm gonna be checking out some of your other works later lol

anyways i saw that you were taking requests, so i went through your prompt list and saw two that caught my eye. they're 24. “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you.” and 18. “I almost lost you.”

i was wondering if you could write something with those prompts for wrecker please? like tbb + reader were able to rescue omega, crosshair, and tech (i am believer in tech surviving season 2 finale), but the reader got seriously injured during the rescue and is now in a coma. wrecker would be the one to say the prompts and it would be angsty like wrecker thinking the reader might die. but please let this end happily.

other than those details i trust your writing skills and process for anything! take your time writing, there's absolutely no rush!! and again your writing is soooo awesome!!😊😊

Well hello there!

I'm so glad you enjoyed those fics, and thank you for popping this request in - so sorry it's taken me so long to write it! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope it hits the spot 😁

I guess it's also technically canon divergent now S3 is out, haha 😅

Through the Darkness

No one said rescuing the rest of the Batch from Mount Tantiss would be easy - you just didn't expect it to go like this.

Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, reader in a coma for a bit, little bit of angst, but also dashes of hope, happily ever after.

Translations: sarad - flower

Hemlock has his hands on you, his blaster pressed to your temple. The sounds of fighting cease. Dead TK Troopers litter the floor. Wrecker and his siblings freeze, slowly lowering their weapons.

Your back is pressed to Hemlock’s chest, and there isn’t a clean shot at him.

“Anyone moves and your dear liaison will pay the price,” Hemlock states.

Rage flows through Wrecker. You were in danger, too far for him to grab and shield, and he had no idea what to do. He glances at his siblings – Omega curled against Hunter’s side with weariness painted on her face, Tech leaning heavily against Echo for support as his body protests the prolonged time standing. Crosshair had peeled off from the group earlier, searching for what or who none of them was sure. They were all back together again. A family again. He wasn’t about to let Hemlock take you from them.

Shakes start in your thighs, slowly creeping up your body until your arms and hands tremble, too. You’ve been in dangerous situations before, had your life threatened before - but you’re certain Hemlock would do it. The man is crazy and will stop at nothing to get his hands on your family. The sound of his verbal back and forth with Hunter is like white noise.

The slightest movement in the rafters above catches your attention, and your eyes dart up. Battered and bruised, Crosshair has found a vantage point and a rifle. Those hawkish eyes meet yours, and a silent conversation is shared. You do the maths. There’s only one way out of this. Thank the Maker you still trust him, even after everything.

You give an almost imperceivable nod, knowing he’ll catch it. You flick your gaze to the others, taking one last look, just in case. Echo, who’d joined you all near the end of the war and had so seamlessly slipped into the fold of your family. Tech, worse for wear after his fall on Eriadu, but with that same solid determination in his eyes. Hunter, the man who’d welcomed you into the squad all those years ago, listened when you shared your thoughts and didn’t make a fuss when you broke terrible news to them about the next mission. Omega, trying to hide her fear through bravery – so much for a young girl with such a pure heart to endure. And Wrecker, the imposing force of a man who’d always put himself between you and danger, who reached for you at every opportunity and consoled you when things had gotten too much – the man you’d quietly loved for some time.

With a shaky breath, you close your eyes, placing all your faith in Crosshair. The quiet sniper who’d at first sneered at you and flicked toothpicks in your face before he’d thawed out and helped perfect your aim, taught you how to use his rifle, and what to look out for when scouting.

The sound of his shot reverberates around the hanger, and milliseconds later, searing pain tears through your shoulder, pulling a piercing cry from your lips. Legs giving out, you crumple, welcoming the cold durasteel you hit.

You don’t know if they all made it out, but you pray they did.

Wrecker hasn’t moved in weeks, refusing to leave you alone. The memory of you being shot won’t leave him; the sound of your agony is stuck on repeat. You’d been in bacta for what felt like forever, the shiny skin on your shoulder a testament to its healing power, but it wasn’t enough to wake you from the coma you’d slipped into. Pabu’s only Doctor had insisted on removing you from the tank once your physical wounds had healed, transferring you to a standard medical bed.

Crosshair’s shot had torn through your shoulder, but the angle had been perfect. Wrecker hadn’t expected any less from his little brother. The bolt had exited you and entered Hemlock, hitting him straight in the chest. A kill shot. That hadn’t killed you. Or so Wrecker hoped. Even if you woke, your shoulder would likely ache for the rest of your life, and your arm would not be as strong as before.

The sound of the door opening pulls Wrecker’s gaze from your prone form and across the small room in Pabu’s clinic. Crosshair slides through the crack in the door, thin lips pressed together, brow pinched. He visits often, guilt in his eyes every time he looks you over. You might’ve okayed the shot, but it still tore at the sniper’s soul to have hurt you.

“Nothing?” Crosshair rasps, sticking close to the door as he glances between you and his brother. He’d never admit it, but fear was starting to settle in his gut. If you didn’t wake…

“Nothin’.” Wrecker confirms, shoulders slumped. “Been talkin’ to her. Doc said she might be able to hear us. Not that it’s doin’ much good.” He sighs, gaze shifting back to you. “Told her we all got out okay. That you and Tech and the kid are alright. Don’t want her worryin’.”

Crosshair makes a slight noise, acknowledging his brother’s words as his gaze lingers on your prone form.

“You stayin’ a bit?” Wrecker asks, using one foot to push out the spare chair at his side – the rest of their siblings often visited, too.

Hesitating, Crosshair lets out a small sigh as he moves across the room, lowering himself silently into the chair. He hadn’t stayed before, preferring to flit in for any news before disappearing. It hurt too much to see you this way, knowing he’d caused it. That and he was still working through everything that had happened during his time with the Empire, trying to fix his relationships with his siblings. But Wrecker needed him, so he’d stay.

You’d always hated the dark.

The shadows surround you, pressing in from all sides. Yet amidst the inky darkness, you find yourself standing in a solitary spot of light, its glow offering a semblance of warmth amidst the chill of the void. The lights kept appearing, and you’d learned quickly that when a new one glistened on the horizon, you had to run for it before the light you were already standing in disappeared.

You’d lost track of how many lights you’d chased so far.

Each one varied in intensity – sometimes brilliant beacons, other times mere flickers barely piercing the gloom. Yet, regardless of their brightness, they all held a magnetic pull, drawing you forward with an unyielding force. And each time you reached one, a brief respite washed over you, a fleeting moment before the next journey into the unknown began.

Scanning the horizon, you spot another light starting to beckon, its faint glow a promise of safety. With a heavy heart, you know what you need to do.

Taking a deep breath, you burst into a sprint. Each step forward is a battle against the darkness, its tendrils reaching out like icy fingers, eager to drag you into its embrace. Goosebumps prickle your arms, heart pounding as fear gnaws at your insides, but a stubborn determination fuels your movements. You can’t afford to falter, to succumb to the darkness, not after everything.

Worry lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a constant reminder of uncertainty. What lay beyond the lights? Will you ever find your way back to the world you once knew? The questions taunt you, echoing in your mind relentlessly the longer you spend here.

Yet, a glimmer of hope remains amidst the fear and uncertainty. Though the darkness threatens to overwhelm you, there must be a reason for the light. There has to be something causing it. Blessing you with it. Giving you these small moments of respite and keeping you in one piece.

You keep going. One foot in front of the other.

A shove yanks Wrecker out of sleep, and the big man jolts awake with a small yelp.

Crosshair snickers, leaning back in his seat, drawing his hand back towards his chest. “Sleeping on the job, vod.” He can’t help but jibe, his smirk melting into a frown at the sound of Wrecker’s stomach growling. “When’s the last time you ate?” He asks. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, seeing him finally getting some rest, but the sun was high in the sky now, and Crosshair knew it wouldn’t be long until Omega and Hunter swung by.

Blinking, Wrecker’s mind takes a moment to catch up with the fact he’s awake. “Urm, yesterday? Maybe?” He guesses, not really sure. The days were starting to blend together.

With a huff, Crosshair stands, long legs unfolding. “Will get you something. Can’t wither away before she wakes.” He mutters, grateful for the opportunity to leave and not have to sit any longer in silence with his feelings – he’d done enough of that for the day.

With a slight nod of appreciation, Wrecker watches as Crosshair heads out the door, hearing the gentle click of it shutting behind him. Hand wiping over his face, Wrecker shifts in the chair, stretching a little. But he can’t avoid the inevitable forever, and although it pains him, he looks you over for what feels like the millionth time.

Despite his imposing stature, he feels powerless.

He hadn’t been able to protect you - the woman he loves. He’s loved you since the moment he first met you in the hanger of a Venator, as you’d been assigned to him and his brothers as their liaison. You’d offered them a smile that had rendered him speechless, and his booming laughter had then filled the hanger when you’d quipped back at Crosshair as he'd sneered about them not needing a babysitter.

You kept them on their toes and blended in so seamlessly with their chaotic lives.

Without an audience, Wrecker clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat to gently take your tiny hand in his much larger one. “I hope ya can hear me, sarad.” He starts, voice mellow. “Been a few weeks now since we got ’em back.” He’s not sure how much you’re aware of, if the passing of time is something you’re experiencing. “Cross was just here. Finally sat for a bit. Think he feels guilty.” Wrecker pauses, brows furrowing, face pinching. “I feel guilty. Should have protected ya, kept ya close.” Wrecker’s voice cracks a little, emotion seeping through.

“We’re all here, though. Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what. Can’t wait for ya to wake up and tell us all how much trouble we’re in.” He chuckles softly, a hint of sadness in the sound. “Just...ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.” He admits, a well of emotion pressing down on his chest.

Wrecker’s words hang heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable even in the silence of the clinic. He wishes he could shake this feeling of helplessness and do more than just sit by your side, waiting for a sign of life. But for now, all he can offer is his unwavering presence and a steady stream of conversation, hoping against hope that somewhere within your subconscious, you can hear him.

Keep going. You need to keep going.

The darkness claws at you, desperate to slow you down and draw you into its embrace. But the light grows closer with every step you take, with every thud of your heart as you race forward. Amidst your footsteps echoing in the void is the faintest whisper of something familiar.

No.

Not something.

Someone.

“Wreck!” You cry out into the darkness, feet faltering for a second as you recognise the deep voice. The darkness tries to take advantage of your momentary hiccup, but with a yelp, you pick up your pace. The hope that lingers in your heart explodes. As you draw closer to the light, Wrecker’s voice comes into focus. “Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what.”

With renewed determination, you push yourself harder, every muscle in your body screaming for rest, but you refuse to give in. The light grows brighter, its warmth now palpable against your skin.

And then, just as you’re on the verge of stepping into the light, a sudden force knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard ground. Panic grips your chest as you scramble, desperate to continue your pursuit.

But the darkness has other plans, closing in around you like a suffocating blanket, obscuring the light. Amidst the coldness creeping through your body, you cling to the memory of Wrecker’s voice, a lifeline in the darkness.

Body straining, you crawl forward, ignoring the pain and exhaustion, determination burning bright within you. You don’t belong in the darkness. You belong in the light. With them. With him.

Straining, you reach out an arm, trembling fingers skimming the edge of the light as Wrecker’s voice comes through loud and clear. “…ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.”

The darkness recoils.

With a final surge of strength, you propel yourself forward, breaking free from the suffocating grip of the void. The light envelops you, wrapping you in its warm embrace as the shadows recede into the distance, getting further and further away. Relief floods through you, tears of joy mingling with sweat on your cheeks.

Head tilting back, you look up at the light, a bubble of laughter escaping as you bask in the glow. Eyes fluttering shut, you savour the moment. Yet this time, when you open your eyes, there’s no darkness or blinding light anymore.

You blink. Once. Twice. The soft hum of medical equipment fills the air. And there, beside you, is Wrecker, head bowed, the weight of his hand wrapped around yours.

Everything seems to freeze except the frantic thudding of your heart. “Wreck…” You whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse as you dare to hope you’re back. Really back.

Wrecker’s head jolts up at the rasped sound of his name, his good eye widening as he meets your gaze, your name falling from his lips as his features crumple, a heaving sob of relief escaping him.

You slowly sit up, wincing at the ache that shoots through your shoulder. It’s still tender, but the pain is nothing compared to the overwhelming flood of emotions that wash over you at the sight of Wrecker’s tear-streaked face.

You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in reality. “I’m here.” You murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him.

Wrecker’s grip tightens around your hand as if afraid you might slip away again if he lets go. He leans into your touch, his words catching in his throat momentarily before he stands, leaning over the bed to envelop you in an embrace, protective yet gentle, conscious of your shoulder. “You’re back.” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Thought I almost lost ya.”

Weak but grateful, you return his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence washing over you, grounding you in reality. A lump forms in your throat at the thought of him worrying about you, thinking he would lose you. “Not going anywhere, big guy.” You reassure him, sniffling as you try to keep a lid on your emotions. “The others?” You ask cautiously, dread curling in your gut.

“All made it,” Wrecker confirms, arms slowly uncurling from around you as he sits back in his chair, hand scooping up yours so he can maintain some contact.

Your dread is swept away and replaced immediately by relief; this time, you don’t bother holding back your sobs.

“No cryin’, pretty girl. Please.” Wrecker’s heart aches at the sight, his free hand moving to cup your face and wipe away the tears.

You smile through your tears, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions. Wrecker’s touch is like a lifeline. “Sorry.” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to reign in your feelings. “Just...so relieved.”

Wrecker offers you a tender smile. “No need to apologise, sarad,” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. A bolt of courage has him leaning forward to gently kiss your forehead.

As Wrecker’s lips meet your forehead, warmth seeps through you, chasing away the last remnants of the dark coldness. He pulls back a little, his gaze meeting yours, and the air feels electric. Without a word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as your lips finally meet his in a soft, tentative kiss.

And you realize that amidst the chaos and darkness, love has always been the guiding light, leading you back to where you belong.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees

192 notes · View notes