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lightsoutletsgo · 2 months

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bear hugs — cl.16

pairing: charles leclerc x bearman!reader | ollie bearman x oldersister!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: mentions of food, specific clothing/outfits detailed but no specific body descriptions used, tooth rotting fluff, charles and reader being awkward and cheesy, lots of giggling, charles and y/n are just two shy babies who kiss softly, pretty emotional scene where y/n and ollie are the cutest siblings taglist: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @arieslost @weekendlusting

You groaned as your peaceful sleep was disturbed, but by what exactly you weren’t sure. You rolled over, eyes slowly blinking at the way the morning light was pouring through the curtains. Oh. Your phone was ringing. You stretched out an arm to grab your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table all night. Just who was calling and waking you up? You winced as your phone screen shone far too brightly for your poor eyes. Reading the caller ID you huffed and threw your phone onto the bed next to you, before throwing an arm over your eyes to go back to sleep. Sometimes your brother could be so annoying.

Your phone stopped ringing and in the silence you felt yourself gently slipping back into sleep. Until the ringing started again, growling you felt around for your phone before answering with a short tone, “What Ols? I was asleeeeep…” You whined, “Turn your camera on!” Ollie practically yelled at you. You shut your eyes with a groan, doing as he asked, “Ollie stop shouting-” “Ferrari called.” You stopped at his interruption and sat up suddenly, wide awake as you stared at your little brother, “W-wha…?” “I’m driving for them. This weekend. Carlos is sick and so I’m standing in for him.” Ollie stared at you, practically vibrating on the spot with how excited he was.

“What the fuck Ollie?!” You gaped at your phone, tears already welling up in your eyes, “Are you serious?” Your brother’s laugh rang through the speaker and you watched as he nodded on screen, “Yeah I just got the call!” “Ols this is insane…” Your voice trailed off as he beamed at you, “I’m shaking to be honest… is that weird? I feel like that’s weird-” “Uh you just got a call from Ferrari that you’re driving in F1 this weekend, I think it’s pretty normal all things considered.” You reasoned, he released a shaky exhale, “You’ll come and watch from the garage with Dad right?” “Obviously, dumbass.” He stuck his tongue out childishly as you checked the time, “I guess we’ll be there in like an hour?” You paused for a moment, “Hey Ollie?” “Hmm?” You smiled at the way his excitement was so visible, “I’m really proud of you, you know that right?” “I love you.” Was all he said in reply, “Love you too stinky, now go eat some breakfast! I’ll be there soon.” You clicked ‘end call’ and sat on your hotel bed in silence. What an insane weekend. You didn’t think you could get any prouder of him after his amazing performance in F2 and gaining that all important P1 position and yet here you were about to dress in Ferrari red and watch your brother race one of the most famous F1 circuits in the world for one of the top teams.

You fell back against the pillows with a squeal, kicking your legs and giggling in excitement. You grabbed your phone and texted your Dad,

Jumping out of bed you quickly showered before thanking whatever higher power was out there that you’d packed some cute red clothing options this time round including your vintage Ferrari jacket. You grabbed a pair of your favourite jeans and a plain white t-shirt before quickly showering and fixing your hair. After getting dressed and finishing your routine you made sure to grab your bag and you were off to the track.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You were used to being in the garages for the F2 races, you’d been to more than your fair share of them to support Ollie, but this was another level. The amount of people; mechanics, PR, sponsors, supporters, engineers, photographers. Your ears were already ringing and you hadn’t even heard the cars yet. A shout of your name grabbed your attention and you turned in the garage to see your brother hurtling towards you, “Y/N!!” You were practically winded as he hugged you tightly, “I’m so glad you’re here!” “Hey stinky.” You wrapped your arms around him, “Oooooo bear hug!” You joked. Ever since you could remember it had been a running joke in your family to call every hug a bear hug, after your last name. You often joked that no one could give hugs like the Bearman family, and only you and your family members could give a certified ‘bear hug’. “How you feeling?” Ollie stood back up straight, fixing his cap, “Excited!” “Good.” He nodded at your jacket, “Bet you’re glad you brought that now!” You laughed, “Maybe I subconsciously knew…” A cough from behind you made you spin round and you gasped as a man stood right behind you, “May I please get past you? Thank you.” You felt him skim past your back and your knees practically melted at the slight accent and lilt in his voice, your eyes followed him as he walked to the other side of the garage to talk to some of the mechanics. Ollie gave a snort from beside you, “Hellooooo? Earth to Y/N!” His hand waved in front of your face and you slapped it away, looking at him with wide eyes, “Ollie. That was Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc just spoke to me.”

Charles exhaled almost nervously as he walked past you. He had no clue who you were but he wanted to find out. You’d immediately caught his eye as soon as he’d walked into the garage and now he was hooked. He turned back subtly to look at you and felt his stomach sink as he watched you laugh with Ollie. Of course a pretty girl like you would already be taken. In your Ferrari jacket his mind started racing with thoughts of how you’d look with his number on your back or on your cap. Wait what? He didn’t even know you and he was fantasising about you. Clearly you were someone important to his new junior teammate and he needed to focus on the task at hand.

“You know you’re drooling,” Your brother joked and you hissed at him, punching his shoulder, barely taking your eyes off of Charles. Ollie rolled his eyes, “In my excitement I forgot about your little crush-,” A slap to his stomach had him doubling over and shutting up as you glared at him. “It’s not a crush!” You defended, “I just… respect him as a driver.” He scoffed, “Yeah right. Well when you’re done fangirling, I need your help.” You shook your head to clear your daydreams and turned to him, “What do you need?”

Your brother beckoned you to follow him back through the garage. Weaving between people and winding your way through the halls, he opened the door of his driver’s room and sank down onto the small couch that had been placed there. You watched as for a second his excited demeanour dropped, a hint of nervousness peeking through. He fumbled with his hands, cracking and clicking his knuckles, thumb absentmindedly scratching over the back of his hand. You sat down next to him and said nothing, just let your hand fall on top of his and give a gentle squeeze, “You’ll be fine.” With that one sentence you simply sat in silence. Ollie’s head dropped to your shoulder and you rested your head on his, understanding he just needed you there. All day he’d acted like he wasn’t nervous. He’d remained cool as a cucumber in front of the cameras and media, he’d sat through interview after interview, he’d met far too many people to remember who they actually all were, he was doing his best to get to grips with a new car after just one practice session and he had still not shown any signs of nervousness where the public or potential F1 employers could see. But you knew. Here in this room he wasn’t Ollie Bearman, F1 rookie or Ferrari's weekend hero, he was just your little brother and you’d give him that safe space as long as he needed.

You weren’t sure how long had passed just sitting on the couch but the hubbub and buzz of noise outside seemed to have increased even though it was muffled by the thin walls of the driver’s room. Ollie had since shifted to half-lie on the couch and you could see he’d fallen asleep, dozing before he needed to get in the car and focus for qualifying. You knew it was your brother’s way of getting the track ingrained in his head, so you wouldn’t disturb him yet. A knock pulled you from your reverie and you were quick to head to the door so they wouldn’t knock again and wake Ollie up. You opened the door a crack and poked your head out, “Yes? Oh-” You blinked up and saw two green eyes staring back at yours, “Hi? I thought Ollie would be in here?” You heard your brother groan on the couch behind you clearly disturbed by the talking and so you quickly exited the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind you. “He is! He’s just taking a nap!” You explained with what you hoped was a friendly and not-too-creepy smile. Charles nodded in understanding, “I bet it’s been a pretty intense weekend.” You gave a small laugh, nodding, “Yeah it has been for all of us!” Charles found himself getting a little flustered at your smile. When he’d knocked the door he hadn’t expected the pretty girl he’d seen earlier to answer. It had taken him a few seconds to psych himself up to even ask you if he could pass earlier and now here he was face-to-face with you in his teammate’s room doorway. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this chance but he would not let it go to waste!

“How are you finding it so far?” His heart skipped a beat as your face lit up, “It’s incredible! Definitely a step up from F2.” Ah so you’d been supporting Ollie for a long time. A best friend? Maybe a girlfriend? High school sweethearts? “So not your first time at a race then?” Charles asked curiously, “Definitely not! I don’t think I’ve ever missed one of Ol’s races since he got into F2.” Charles groaned internally, clearly you were off limits, but did his best to look interested. You gave a giggle at the impressed face Charles made, “That’s certainly dedication!” You nodded, “Of course!” “It’s good you get to be here for his first F1 weekend then. You seem like a very important person to him…” Charles gave a subtle dig for information and you were none the wiser to his motives, “Well he’s my little brother so of course I would be!” Charles froze, Ollie was your what? You were his sister? Charles wasn’t sure if that thought made him more nervous or more relieved. “You’re Ollie’s sister?” He asked incredulously, “Yes…” You replied hesitantly, unsure why his reaction was so serious. Charles felt himself exhaling in relief before he looked at your face, an eyebrow raised and your arms crossed, “Is that so unbelievable? I mean I know we don't look as alike as other siblings but...” He shook his head,

“No, no!” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and looked away, not wanting to see your reaction to his next statement, “I just uhhh, I thought you might have been a girlfriend or something…” You couldn’t help the way the laughter tipped out of you, “Ew! No way!” You held a hand out to Charles, “Hi, I’m Y/N Bearman.” You emphasised your surname and Charles felt a grin stretching across his face that matched your own, “Charles.” You sighed internally at the sight of his dimples popping out and resisted the urge to poke them. “I actually noticed you earlier and I thought you were far too pretty to be any regular garage guest.” You giggled at his bold flirting, “Well I’m glad that you noticed me back then… There was no way someone as good looking as you can walk around without grabbing attention… Especially in the red suit…” With a wink, Charles found himself speechless, not something that was a common occurrence, especially when it came to flirting and talking to women, but he loved it. “So now we’ve cleared up that little mishap, could I maybe get your num–”

The door to the room behind you opening caught your attention and both you and Charles watched as Ollie appeared, stretching and inhaling deeply, “Oh there you are.” Charles felt his stomach flip with anxiety, hoping Ollie hadn’t heard him flirting with you. That would not look good for him or help his teammate's mental state. But damn, if he wasn’t more than a little disappointed… You seemed to have recovered quite well though, brushing off the previous conversation easily, “Good morning sunshine, sleep well?” “Mhmm,” Ollie leaned against you and nodded, “I needed that.” “We all need a pre-race nap sometimes,” Hearing Charles' voice caused Ollie to wake up fully, standing upright as he acknowledged the older driver.

“You’ll be fine mate.” Charles placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder and squeezed, “I actually came to find you, thought I could talk you through how to handle some of the corners with the steering?” Ollie gave him a look of appreciation and together they headed back towards the garage. You felt yourself melt that Charles was doing his best to help your little brother and you watched with a dopey grin on your face as the two of them made their way down the hallway, “I’m gonna go find dad!” Ollie waved at you to signal he’d heard you before he was gone.

You took a moment, going back into the room and closing the door behind you. Holy shit you’d just had an entire conversation with Charles Leclerc, he had called you pretty and was he about to ask for your number? You huffed and rolled your eyes. Your brother had the shittiest timing sometimes.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

With big red headphones on, you anxiously watched the screen. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you nervously brought them up to your face, almost not wanting to watch just in case anything went wrong. You got nervous watching Ollie every time he raced, but this weekend the stakes were higher and your nerves were more frazzled. Q1 had gone well but now the pressure was on. Pace was being set and each car seemed to be lapping faster and faster. You turned to look at your Dad who didn’t look any better than you. You reached across and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. He smiled at you before you both turned your attention back to the big screens at the back of the garage. As your brother set out on his flying lap you found yourself yelling encouragement along with the mechanics and engineers in the garage, despite the fact he couldn’t hear you. “Come on Ollie!” You looked at the times up on the board already and willed your brother to get even a tenth of a second off their times.

You couldn’t have cared less about his time though as long as he made it back safely. You watched your brother’s car fly across the finish line and you waited with bated breath for the confirmation of his time to come through. You felt your dad’s hand squeeze yours before you were both cursing under your breath, 0.036 seconds. That’s all there was in it. You felt your Dad wrap you up in a hug, exhaling in relief that your brother had made it through qualifying safely.

You knew he’d be beating himself up when he came back to the garage and you took the bright Ferrari red headphones off your head, “Dad, I’m gonna go and wait for him,” Your dad nodded, already in conversation with some of the Ferrari engineers about how they could make race day easier for Ollie. You headed to his room, wanting to be there when he got back and you’d barely taken a seat before the door swung open and in came a slightly tense looking Ollie. “I know you’re going to tell me I did a good job and I appreciate that but I’m almost more frustrated that it was so close.” He sighed and you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as he took a seat next to you, “I’m proud of you Ols.” He smiled gratefully as the door was pushed open an inch, “Uh… hello?” “Charles?” You were confused as the Monegasque man’s head poked round the door and he nodded at Ollie, “Solid drive mate!” Ollie grumbled next to you and you whacked his thigh, “Ow!” He huffed at you, and you glared at him as you tilted your head in Charles direction, “Sorry, thank you Charles.” Charles gave a laugh, “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” Another knock sounded through the room and one of Ollie’s engineers called for him to go and discuss some seat adjustments for the race. You stood up as he went to leave, “Hey! If you think I’m not giving you a bear hug after all that, you’re very much mistaken.” Ollie laughed and turned back round, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist, squeezing slightly and hoping he could feel just how proud you were, “Love you stinky.” “Love you too dummy” He pulled away and left the room, closing the door behind him,

“Bear hug?” You looked at Charles who stood there with a slight smile across his face and a raised eyebrow, “Mhmm! They’re very special and you actually can’t give them without the necessary qualifications.” “Ah.” Charles said seriously, “And what qualifications are those?” You giggled, “The Bearman surname!” Charles felt a laugh rumble up from deep in his chest at your giggle. God you were spellbinding. “Your brother did an amazing job today.” You smiled in appreciation, speaking genuinely,

“Thank you.” “What are you up to this evening then?” “Oh uhhh… well I’ve been watching a new series recently so probably just watching a couple of episodes and maybe ordering room service…” You facepalmed internally at how boring you were making yourself sound to an F1 driver, “Sorry that probably sounds kinda sad huh?” Charles shook his head and waved his hands to emphasise himself, “No, no! It actually sounds… pretty nice…” For the briefest moment you considered how to reply before your mouth was opening and you couldn’t stop yourself, “You’re welcome to join me if you want?” you froze. Oh fuck. Had you just invited Charles Leclerc to binge watch Netflix with you and eat off the room service menu while you wore sweatpants and a crusty old t-shirt? “You don’t have to-” “I would love to-” “Oh.” You nervously giggled at each other before your eyes dropped to the floor, too shy to keep looking at him. “I would love to join you… if that’s okay?” You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course!” “Give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?" He held his phone out to you and you nodded, typing your number in and handing it back to him, “Great! You guys are staying at the same hotel as us tonight right?” You made a noise of confirmation, “Mhmm, they moved us for the weekend. I-I’m in room 604” You could have sworn Charles blushed as you said your room number.

You were so flustered that it appeared your brain wasn’t working correctly, your tongue getting tied as you tried to continue the conversation, “Uh, you don’t need to bring anything, clothing is optional.” “Excuse me?!” Charles froze as he stared at you. Did you just tell him that clothing was optional? He didn’t think you were that bold, or that you had an angle. His mind drifted to the thought of you opening the door naked for the quickest second before you realised you mistake and pulled him out of his thoughts, “Fuck no! I meant comfy clothing is optional! Like you can wear whatever, like sweatpants or even pyjamas if you wanted to, or-or-or if you really wanted you uhhh you could wear no clothes I guess but- wait no this isn’t me trying to get you naked I promise!” You finished your ramble panicking just as a loud laugh burst out of Charles. Your head dropped into your hands and you whined in embarrassment as Charles' hands found his knees, unable to stand up straight at how hard he was laughing. “Fuck you’re cute.” You inhaled sharply, eyes shooting down to the floor and biting your lip softly through a smile, “Oh?” “Mhmm” You felt your cheeks heat up as it sunk in that he’d called you cute, after you’d embarrassed yourself no less! “Anyway…” Charles attempted to move the conversation forward, desperate to make you gasp again like you had a moment ago, “I’ll be there later,” He moved towards the door, leaning in as he did so “I hope clothing is optional for you too.” And with a brush of his shoulder against yours he was gone. Noise from the hallway and nearby garages poured in through the open door and you didn’t move until Ollie came back, “What happened to you?” “N-nothing! Just talked with Charles a bit.” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed giving him a shove, “Come on, I’m done so we’re gonna go back to the hotel! I need sleep.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You rushed around your hotel room, ensuring any stray socks or underwear were tucked away in your case and any possible embarrassing items were safely hidden out of sight. Thankfully you'd found a slightly less crusty and slightly less old t-shirt in your suitcase and you'd thrown that on over over some shorts that were a considerably more socially acceptable choice than your tattered travel sweatpants.

Your eyes swept around the room and gave one final check. Charles had texted five minutes ago to say that he was on his way up and so you knew there would be a knock at the door any second. Grabbing some extra pillows from the closet, you placed them on the bed and pulled up Netflix just in time for the door to sound. “Coming!” You raced over to the door before stopping, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. You opened the door, “Do you have a spare toothbrush?” “Ollie?!” “Yes…? It’s me? Your brother?” Ollie looked at you suspiciously as you stuck your head out of the door and looked up and down the corridor, “Are you expecting someone?” You choked on air, “Me?! Expecting someone? Pfft, no!” Though you had been thanking those higher powers earlier in the day, you now cursed them out as at the end of the corridor the elevator dinged, both yours and Ollie’s heads snapped to look as the doors opened and there stood Charles. Ollie looked at you and gave a laugh, “Not expecting anyone, hmm?” Your eyes widened. “He’s not here for me!” Ollie crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly, “Oh no?” You felt your heart race as Charles came down the corridor. You sighed and looked at Ollie, trying to sense how he felt about it, “If it makes you mad or upset or uncomfortable then no, he's not here for me.”

Charles approached the two of you and slowed his pace, sensing a conversation was happening that he didn’t need to hear, but still he couldn’t deny that he was curious. It was obvious you were talking about him. Ollie’s arms dropped to grab your shoulders, “Y/N, you’ve already given up an insane amount for me to be able to pursue this… Why would I ever be mad about you wanting a fun date night?” You pursed your lips, “It’s not a date.” Ollie’s facial expression dead panned, “Yuh huh, okay, and I’m gonna win the race tomorrow.” You flicked his forehead and heard Charles stifle a laugh to the side. “Just wait here, I’ll get you the toothbrush.” You grumbled going back into the hotel room. Charles coughed nervously as he stood in front of Ollie. Though he was younger than Charles, he was taller and Charles found the way he was staring at him ever so slightly intimidating. “Don’t keep her up late, don’t do anything to upset her and if you make her cry I’ll turn you into the wall tomorrow.” Ollie glared at him and Charles chuckled nervously, “Noted. I would never want to make her cry,” Ollie watched as Charles stared after you with a dopey smile, “I do wanna make her smile though, her smile is pretty.” Ollie coughed a laugh into his hand, Charles was seemingly already down bad and he knew you were too. “Can I ask a question?” Ollie nodded, “Shoot.” “What did you mean by she’s given up a lot for you?” Ollie sighed, shuffling his feet almost uncomfortably. “Dad couldn’t travel with me because of work, Mum couldn’t leave our other siblings at home because they were too young so it was Y/N that moved around with me and travelled with me.” Charles nodded, encouraging Ollie to continue, “She didn’t go on dates or go out clubbing with friends or get a boyfriend because she left it all behind for me. She even decided to not go to uni... She says she doesn’t mind but…” He trailed off, “You still feel bad?” Charles finished for him. Ollie shrugged, “Wouldn’t you? She says she got to travel more than anyone else her age and got to experience tons of stuff while seeing the world so I guess to her it doesn’t matter as much.” Charles hummed, starting to understand just how close you and Ollie were. “You know when Arthur got sick last year it was Y/N that took care of him and drove him to the hospital?” Charles head whipped up to look at Ollie, “That was Y/N?” “Yep. She drove him to the hospital and stayed with him all night, then brought him back home the next day. She made him soup and helped him take all his medicine on time and stuff.” Charles found his heart growing even warmer. He’d remembered how panicked both he and his mother had been when they learned the youngest Leclerc was extremely unwell, until his mother had received a call to say someone was looking after him - now he knew it was you! Ollie smiled to himself, glad that in some roundabout way he was now able to do something for you. It was clear you and Charles were already both smitten with each other. “Got it!” You reappeared at the door and flourished the toothbrush under his nose. “Thank you!” “Mhmm! What were you guys talking about?” “Race strategies-” “The room service menu-” Your eyes narrowed slightly as they gave different answers at the same time and you looked between them, “O…kay…? Cool… Well, you need to relax.” You gave Ollie a look and he saluted, turning round and heading back to his room a few doors down, “Yes coach!” You shook your head before turning to Charles and opening the door wider, “You coming in?”

He smiled and made his way into your room, noting how you’d added a few little touches here and there to make it feel like home even though you were thousands of miles away, “Cute pictures,” Charles wandered over to the vanity where you had put up some small pictures of your family and friends at home, pictures of you and Ollie at various tourist spots round the world and a few family pets. “It makes the distance a little less… distance-y.” “I get it.” “Soooo uhhh…” You stood in the middle of the room and nervously kicked your foot into the floor, “I see we both decided to wear clothes.” Charles smirked and you couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out, “Indeed we did.” “I can’t pretend I’m not slightly disappointed…” He gave you his best attempt at a wink and you hid a smile behind your hand, “I’m still working on it…” He huffed. As he stood there pouting you took in the sight of him in front of you. Dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a white sweatshirt he looked like the epitome of cosy soft boyfriend vibes. “Are you hungry?” Charles took the lead and you were internally thankful for that. “Kind of? We could have a look and see what takes our fancy? Although I’m pretty sure that the majority of the items listed are not approved by your PT…” Charles waved you off, “We all break our diets more regularly than you’d except.” “Tell me about it… I keep having to remind Ollie that chicken nuggets are not nutritious and healthy all the time.” Charles tipped his head back and let out a laugh and you found yourself unable to stop giggling along with him. The laughter eased the remaining tension and you settled onto the bed, patting the spot next to you to encourage him to sit.

The two of you sat on the bed, perusing the menu and selecting what you wanted before he called down to order it. While you waited you talked about anything and everything. The race tomorrow, how warm it was in Jeddah, your favourite places you’d travelled to, musicians you listened to regularly. You found yourself falling into conversation with him so easily, it was difficult to remember that you’d only known each other for a few hours. When the food arrived Charles was firm in getting you to stay sat down while he answered the door, determined to treat you like a princess.

“Charles, I can walk to the door!” You giggled, “Non! You will wait here and I will go.” He bowed before he walked to the door and you rolled your eyes, a smile plastered across your face. “Here you are, madame, your food.” “Why thank you kind sir.” Taking the plate from him you fluffed up the pillow behind you, clicking on your laptop to reload Netflix. “What do you feel like watching? Drive to Survive?” You asked, doing your best to hold in your laughter when Charles’ head shot up, looking ever so slightly traumatised, “Absolutely not!” You fell into laughter as he climbed onto the bed next to you, “How about a Studio Ghibli movie?” he nodded, taking a bite of his food, “The music is beautiful! I think you’d really like it!” “Let’s do it!” You nodded, clicking on Howl’s Moving Castle and loading it up.

The two of you watched the movie in silence for a while and you watched as Charles’ fingers tapped along in time with the rhythm of the music. You felt yourself getting swept up in the story, not even noticing Charles’ eyes on you. “I love this part!” You sat up a little and Charles followed suit, subtly moving his arm to rest behind you. You glanced around to see his hand almost over your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat up quickly. “S-sorry!” He went to move, “N-no, it’s okay…” You looked at him and moved a little closer until your thigh was touching his and his arm was fully around you. Charles smiled down at you as you settled back down and got comfy. God he could get used to this… He daydreamed for a second about getting to do this with you after every race weekend. For the rest of the film, you stayed firmly in Charles embrace, even daring to place one of your hands in his as the characters on screen also held hands. Soft smiles and shy glances were all you exchanged occasionally. You did your absolute best to fight the wave of sleepiness threatening to overtake you but with the heat from Charles’ body and the cosy bed and the soft music of the film, you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut. Your head dropped to rest between his shoulder and chest as the credits rolled and Charles looked down as best he could to see you asleep. He smiled to himself, refusing to move even when his shoulder started to cramp up. He looked at the clock on the wall across the room and realised he had better sleep. After all, he still had a race to drive. He slowly shuffled, careful to support your head as he laid you down on the pillow. You sighed in your sleep and shuffled closer to him, seeking out the warmth he provided. Charles found himself facing an internal battle. Did he stay and risk you feeling uncomfortable and offended or leave and risk you feeling upset he didn’t stay? As he debated the correct answer, you made the decision for him. Half-awake you tugged on the sleeve of his sweater. “Don’t go… warm…” You whined and he completely melted, sliding onto the bed next to you and lying on his back. You felt his heart race as you cuddled into his side and rested your head on his chest. Charles gently ran his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you dozed on his chest. “Hey Y/N?” He said lowly, “Mhmm?” You blinked sleepily, “Would it be okay if I kissed your forehead amour?” You nodded, “More than okay,” With a contented sigh, you relaxed once more, Charles leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. There was a pause before he leant down to kiss your forehead again, only to find his lips against yours. The two of you pulled apart quickly, you were now wide awake and sat up next to him while he led there in shock, eyes wide. If you weren’t so surprised, you probably would have laughed at the way Charles lips almost seemed stuck in a pout before he raced to sit up and apologise, “Fuck I’m so sorry!” He cried, “You’re sorry? I’m sorry!” Your eyes mirrored his, “I shouldn’t have just leaned down to kiss you again.” “It’s okay Charles really… I…” You went quiet for a moment and he gently reached for your hand, “What is it?” You bit your lip, not daring to look at him. “I-I…” “Take your time amour.” He smiled at you encouragingly as his thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand, “I kind of liked it…” You whispered, eyes squeezing shut, “Only kind of?” He asked, genuinely, not wanting to scare you. “C-can we try again?” You opened your eyes and felt him gently tilt your chin to look up at him, “You want to try again?” You nodded and Charles shook his head, “Non mon ange, I need to hear you say it. I’m not going to kiss you without you telling me it’s okay-” “Please. Charles. I want you to kiss me… I just might not be very good at it, you see I haven’t really had much practice so please forgive me if its bad…”

Any remaining words died on your tongue as Charles cupped your face with the hand that had been holding your chin and his other arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you a little closer to him. “Just follow my lead ma belle.” Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath swept across your lips. You expected to feel his lips against yours but you were pleasantly surprised at the feeling of his lips kissing your forehead once more. Your eyes stayed shut as he pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, then the other. A quick peck to the nose left your giggling, before he placed a kiss to your jawline that left you breathless, “Please… Charles…” His lips were almost on yours again and you felt them brush yours slightly as he spoke, “Please what mon ange?” “Kiss me.” Any little part of you that had been frustrated by his teasing only moments ago was certainly glad of it now. It made the moment his lips touched yours all that much sweeter. Any nerves melted away as he held you gently.

There was no heavy panting or biting, no licking or sucking. Just his lips caressing yours. Your head spun as he finally pulled away to let you take a breath just for a moment. You chased his lips, not quite ready to let him go yet and he let out a contented hum at the way you pressed your lips to him once more. He swore he fell even harder when you smiled into the kiss. You gasped when he pulled you into his lap and the kiss fell apart as you both dissolved into giggles. Your tummy flipped in the most delightful way as his nose gently rubbed against yours, “Was that okay?” Your hands linked around the back of his head and found the short hair there, gently threading your fingers through and twisting it round. You leaned down to whisper, “My turn…” His eyes closed, blissfully as you traced your own kisses across his face, in awe of the way his long lashes sat on his cheeks. You placed a small kiss on top of the freckle on his cheek and giggled at the way his stubble tickled your nose and lips, he opened his eyes and watched your wiggling your nose, “Tickles.” He placed his hands on your hips and softly rubbed his thumbs just under your shirt. You smiled down at him and nodded, “Words ma belle.” “Yes Charles, you can.” He smiled up at you and pouted to ask for a kiss, “Merci ma belle.” He slid his hands under your shirt to gently hold your hips and feel the soft skin there. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness and the comfort he was providing. “I’m so glad I asked you to come over.” A kiss to your forehead was your answer, “Me too…”

Neither of you moved for a few minutes, just feeling each other breathe. Feeling how your heart rates slowed after racing from the excitement of kissing. You hadn’t even noticed yourself getting sleepy again but Charles had. “Ma belle, I need to go…” You nodded but didn’t move, Charles chuckled, “Ma belle?” “Do you have to?” Charles cooed at how sleepy you sounded, “If I stay here I won’t sleep, I’ll just want to kiss you and hold you all night and I have a race tomorrow.” You conceded and lifted your head but remained in his lap, “That was actually my plan.” Charles head tilted, “Distract the competition so Ollie can sneak through.” Charles head dropped to your collarbone with a laugh, “So sneaky mon ange…” You nodded, climbing off of his lap and taking a seat next to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood up but found himself unable to help leaning back down to kiss you just once… twice… three times more. You pushed his chest and smiled, “Go Charles! I’ll see you in the morning.” He let himself out of your room and as soon as the door had closed you were squealing into your pillow, giddy with excitement and stomach full of butterflies.

And if Charles did the same thing when he got back to his room? Well that was his business.

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“Good morning!” “You are far too happy this morning. What happened with Charles? Did you kiiiiiiiiss him?” You glared at Ollie who stood in the door of your hotel room making kissy faces at you. “Whatever happened between me and Charles is between us.” You grabbed your bag and headed towards the elevator at the end of the hallway, Ollie easily falling into step beside you, “So something did happen?” “Maybe! I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Your brother knocked his shoulder into yours, turning serious, “It’s not. It’s just nice to see you so happy.” You stood in front of the elevator doors and turned to Ollie, “Thanks Ols.” “But also I need to know if I need to crash him into the wall today.” “hUH?!”

When you reached the Ferrari garage, you were excited to support your brother but also excited to see Charles again. You spotted him not long after entering the garage, his back was to you but even seeing the back of his head was enough to send you into a smile that alerted everyone in the near vicinity that you had it bad for the man wearing number 16. One of the mechanics stood with him greeted Ollie and Charles turned round, face breaking into an identical grin at the sight of you in a Ferrari red dress. Your Dad elbowed you, “Is there something going on I need to know about? Spill the tea bestie” He wiggled his eyebrows and you snorted, leaning into him and bumping your head against his shoulder affectionately, “There’s no tea to spill dad, and Ollie, stop teaching Dad phrases you think he needs to know!” Your Dad and Ollie laughed as you made your way over to Charles, “Hi.” “Hi. You look beautiful.” Charles found himself breathless as he took in your full appearance. “Did you get any sleep?” A goofy grin crept across his face, “Filled with dreams of you ma belle, I slept wonderfully. And you?” You nodded, “Something similar I guess…” “You guess?” “Mhmm…” You gasped as you felt his hand slowly grab yours, his fingers interlocking with yours, “Charles! What if someone sees?” “I don’t mind people seeing me holding hands with the prettiest girl at the race today.” You gently tapped his chest and shook your head, “You’re so silly.” You looked across the garage as you heard Ollie’s laugh and Charles’ face turned serious, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze to get your attention, “I actually wanted to say that I totally understand that you’re here for Ollie today. It’s lovely to see you but I’m not going to take you away from supporting your brother when he needs you.” You gave his hand a squeeze back in appreciation, “Thank you Charles. We’ll catch up later though! Good luck, race safe!”

Charles felt his cheek turning as red as his car as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek before darting across the garage with a giggle. He stared after you with a dumb lovestruck look on his face, one hand coming up to hold his cheek, “Oh my friend, you have it bad, no?” Charles whirled round to see Carlos and some of the engineers staring at him, amused looks on their faces. “I wish they hadn’t let you leave the hospital today.” Carlos laughed, wincing slightly as he did so, “And miss our little Charles in love? No way! This is more entertaining than the race will be.”

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You stood with Ollie in the garage as he waited until the last second to get in the car. “You ready?” He inhaled, “I guess we’ll find out huh? It’s now or never…” You smiled at him, handing him his helmet. You had your pre-race routine with Ollie that consisted of making sure he had one last sip of water, helping him put his helmet on before kissing where his forehead would be inside the helmet and finally a bear hug. You’d done it before every race since he was in his karting days and his debut F1 race would be no different. Charles caught sight of this and smiled. It was good that the young driver had such a great support system. In a slightly weird way he was almost envious that he didn't have someone to do those things for him. He watched as you held Ollie's bottle up to his lips before placing it to the side, buckling his helmet up once it was on his head. Charles' heart grew warm as he watched Ollie bend down so you could reach to kiss his forehead. You and Ollie were unaware of your audience, just completely in your own little bubble. "Can't believe I have to bend for you to reach my forehead now." It was a throwaway comment from Ollie but it left you with tears welling up in your eyes. Oh how he'd grown. When this ritual first started he was just a kid. Far shorter than you, almost looking too small for his kart. He had been so young but his dreams were big. You felt your bottom lip quiver as you watched your brother's dreams become reality in front of your eyes. You knew he felt guilty that you'd given so much up. "Bear hug?" You asked, holding your arms out. Ollie wrapped you up in the tightest hug he could manage, "Thank you." He didn't need to say what for. You knew. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again." He squeezed you just a little more before he was pulling away and climbing into that red car that he'd long dreamed of. You felt your dad come alongside you and pull you into his side, the two of you both misty-eyed with tearful smiles.

Watching his car leave the garage for the grid you couldn't help the way you looked around for Charles. You caught sight of him and approached him, "Are you alright ma belle?" You wiped your eyes hastily, "Yeah, just a little overwhelmed?" Charles gave an understanding nod, "It makes perfect sense mon ange." You cleared your throat, "But I have another pre-race ritual to complete." Charles eyes shot to yours, "unless you already have one and then I won't interfere-" "Please." You gave him a soft smile and took his helmet from him to allow him to do up his suit properly, "What do you still need to do?" Charles looked almost shy as he gave his request, "Could you help me put my helmet on?" Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded, gently tugging on his helmet to pull it down when he grabbed your wrists, "Wait." "What?" Your eyes searched his, worried you'd somehow hurt him or done it wrong, his face broke into a grin, "Can I get a kiss before my helmet goes on?" You looked around the garage, everyone busy with their own jobs and not really paying you much attention. "Are you sure?" Charles nodded. You looked for a small space of skin not covered by his balaclava and pressed a light kiss to his cheek just under his eye. His eyes shut as if he was savouring the moment before he nodded at you to pull his helmet down. He watched your face contort into an expression of concentration as you buckled his helmet up with so much precision and care. "What comes next?" "Help me with my gloves?" His voice was muffled through the helmet, you nodded and took his gloves from him. Helping him put one on and squeezing that hand before switching to the other one. "Can I suggest one last thing?" He nodded, "I think you should have a bear hug." You couldn't see his smile through his helmet but the way he enthusiastically pulled you into his arms told you all you needed to know. You stood there for a moment just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. You rested your head on his chest and sighed. His hand gently caressed up and down your back before he was being called to climb into his car. You squeezed him one last time for good measure before he was gone and off to line up for the start of the race.

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Your throat was sore from all the yelling and screaming you'd done at the screen, your legs were about to give out from the adrenaline rush and your cheeks hurt from the smiling you'd done. You had tears in your eyes again as you watched your brother cross the line in 7th for his first ever F1 grand prix. Turning to hug your dad you nodded at Carlos who sat across the garage. He gave you a warm smile and a knowing wink as the garage began rushing to the podium for Charles. You were bouncing on your feet as you waited to see Ollie, Charles, either of them, both of them?

The pitlane was packed as fans, teams and reporters all swarmed down to the podium. And there, pushing his way through all of it, was Ollie. You couldn't help the scream that left your throat as you sprinted to him. Pulling him into a huge hug. "Oh my god bear." You practically sobbed, "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Ollie slid his helmet off and his face was lit up, "Oh my god that was amazing! Intense, but amazing!" You giggled as he moved his neck experimentally before wincing, "Yeah I'm gonna need a physio appointment like... as soon as possible." You let out a laugh, "Dad was already on it by about lap four don't worry!" "Thank fuck." Your brother exhaled, eyes widening dramatically. You observed the way the podium was getting increasingly busy. "Go." Ollie looked at you, "You know you want toooo..." He sang, "But..." "No buts, butts are for sitting." Ollie, closed his eyes as if he would hear no further arguments. He leant in close, "I think it would mean a lot to him too." "Ollie I can't just g-" "Excuse me, Carlos?" Ollie called to the older driver, "You're going the the podium aren't you?" Carlos motioned that he was, "Are you going to?" You looked at Ollie and he gave an encouraging nod, "Go!" You looked at Carlos, "Lead the way."

It was packed. You wondered if Carlos should really be making his way through the crowd given his condition, but they almost seemed to part for him. It certainly made things easier for you so you couldn’t complain. You stood next to Carlos right in front of the barrier underneath the podium. You were just in time. The announcer spoke Charles' name and he walked out onto the podium, he had a huge grin that stretched from cheek to cheek. He stood there for a moment before looking down at his team Charles felt his heart stop. There was no way. Was there? You were stood celebrating his podium? Charles had never wanted a podium ceremony to be over quicker in his life. He was dying to get back down there and hold you in his arms again, maybe even kiss you if he was lucky. As he was handed his trophy he looked down once more, pointing at you. To the cameras it would look like he was pointing at his mechanics, or even Carlos. But you knew. Even though he was fairly far away from you he could still see how your eyes shone up at him. The way they sparkled not just under the floodlights of the track but from the way you were just looking at him. You weren’t aware of anything around you. Not Carlos smirking at the way you and Charles watched each other, not the music, not the champagne, nor the fireworks that now exploded in the sky above Jeddah rivalling the fireworks that were going off in your tummy at the way Charles gazed at you with so much adoration.

As soon as he could, Charles was racing off the podium and Carlos led you back to the Ferrari garage where he would soon appear. You waited, almost pacing back and forth. Ollie watched you knowingly, “You really like him huh?” You froze, “Is it that obvious?!” Ollie scoffed, “Uh? Yes!” You rolled your eyes before Carlos called your name, “Y/N you can wait in his room if you want? It’s opposite Ollie’s.” You nodded and wound your way through the now familiar corridors of Ferrari’s garage. You made it to Charles' room and settled down on the couch. Now to wait.

You didn’t have to wait long before the door was bursting open and a champagne drenched Charles was striding across the room, placing his trophy down on the couch before sweeping you into his arms, nose tracing up your neck, “Ma belle…” “Charles! That tickles!” Charles laughed and your legs went weak as you felt his chest rumble against you. “Wanted to do this as soon as I got out of the car.” He mumbled. You gently held his face in your hands and brought his face up to look at you, “Congratulations handsome.” Charles smiled, leaning in before catching himself and stopping with a groan, “Can I kiss you? Please say yes ma belle… Please fuck… I need to kiss you, it’s all I've wanted to do since the race ended, need to kiss you, please?” “Yes, Charles.” “Thank you amour.” His lips met yours and you sighed as you tasted the sweet champagne from his lips. He was sticky and sweaty but he was so Charles. You hummed happily before he gently bit your lip, eliciting a whine from you. He growled a little at the sound before pulling away, “We need to stop ma belle.” “Awww…” You pouted and he laughed, poking the lip that was jutting out. “I’m not going to do this with you in my driver’s room of all places, especially when I’m sweaty and covered in champagne.” “I don’t know…” Your arms circled his neck as you leaned into him, “I think it’s a good look.” His hands found your hips and he couldn’t help the way his thumbs traced tiny circles.

“You know… I think you should come to F1 races more often…” “Oh?” “Mhmm” Charles looked at you, “I think your ritual got me my podium today.” You stared at him for a second before laughing, “You think so?” He pressed a final kiss to your lips and nodded, “Absolutely!” “Then I think I need to come and stand in the Ferrari garage more often.” Charles pulled you into a hug, “That sounds perfect.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ BONUS INSTAGRAM POSTS

y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, scuderiaferrari and 23,196 others y/nbearman little weekend photodump ft. very on brand red outfits, the nicest hospitality and garage I've ever stood in, Ollie's first F1 race and post-race dinner and Dad's first TV interview for sky sports

View all 4,157 comments olliebearman Think that was definitely Dad's favourite part of the weekend ⤷ y/nbearman Papa bear for commentator 2025? Comment liked by skysportsf1 and olliebearman ⤷ olliebearman ICON

bearmanfan they have the cutest sibling relationship I swear 🥺 lalaleclerc PLS TELL ME Y'ALL ALSO SAW CHARLES LOOKING AT HER IN THE GARAGE ⤷ charleswifey omg yesssss 😭 he really thought no one was looking but there was a whole ass camera on him ⤷ y/nbearman wHAT? ⤷ lalaleclerc oops 🥹

charles_leclerc can't wait to have you in the garage again ma belle Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ y/nbearman looking forward to it handsome ⤷ f1f1fan wait. WHAT? ⤷ bearmanfam Y/N AND CHARLES?!

scuderiaferrari We're so glad you had a good weekend! Ollie is our new fave 🫶🏼 ⤷ charles_leclerc ouch ⤷ carlossainz55 I've been gone less than one weekend 🧍‍♂️ ⤷ y/nbearman you're so real for this admin I approve ⤷ scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️

charlesandcarlos I had no clue who this girl was until they said on the commentary that she was Ollie's sister, damn they have good genes ⤷ y/nfanpage isn't she the prettiest!! ⤷ olllie charles has good taste Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ charlessss does anyone know what she does for a living? ⤷ bearmanfam it's actually so sweet 🥺 she gave up on going to uni and following her own career path for a while to travel with Ollie and support him in F2! she's basically his PA, manager, photographer, nutritionist, therapist, best friend and sister rolled into one ⤷ charlessss holy shit 🧍‍♀️ we STAN her

bearmanhug is it just me that thought we'd get a really mushy post from y/n like when Ollie finished the F2 season last year? ⤷ ferrarifan no same here ⤷ y/nbearman oh it's incoming don't worry 🤭 ⤷ ferrawri OH FUCK WE AREN'T READY

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y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 21,874 others y/nbearman to say that I'm proud of you is an understatement. you make me proud every day no matter whether you win or lose not just on the track but off too. but this weekend I'm in absolute awe of you. the results you've achieved just show the hard work and dedication you've put into this sport. I know your passion to succeed and improve will take you far! this is just the beginning of amazing things to come. forever proud of you and I've always got your back. I love you to the end of the line baby bear ❤️❤️❤️ tagged: @.olliebearman

View all 3,562 comments olliebearman love you too sun bear Comment liked by y/nbearman

bearmanfam OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK 😭 ⤷ bearmanfam ollie once said in an interview that his sister always makes him smile and lights up his day and that's why he calls her sun bear! she calls him baby bear because he's younger than her ⤷ charlesandcarlos I'm pretty sure she used red hearts bc he drove for Ferrari this week 🥹 Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ bearmanfam omg YES ❤️ ⤷ charlesandcarlos CONFIRMED ❤️

charles_leclerc superb driving today! you should absolutely be proud. keep driving like that and it won't be long until we'll be sharing the track every week @.olliebearman Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman ⤷ carlossainz55 no doubt about it!

lewishamilton amazing job today kid 💜 leclerclove The way the old photos are in black and white and the photos from the weekend are in colour like it's a new era 😭 ⤷ smoothoperatorrr omg I didn't think of that 😭😭 ⤷ charleswifeyyyy The childhood pictures are so fucking cute too 😭

landonorris great results today! can't wait to see what you do in the future! ferrariiiii "I love you to the end of the line" AS IN THE FINISH LINE?! ⤷ f1fan STOP OH MY GOD 😭😭😭 carlossssainzzz I'm not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a baby reading this post 🥹 like it's so clear that they love and support one another ⤷ scuderiaferrari we're crying too! 🥹❤️ Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman

f1fannnn all the drivers commenting their support and congratulations 😭

fanoferrari "this is just the beginning" I-🥹😭 ⤷ olsbearmannn "you make me proud every day"

maxverstappen1 An amazing drive mate!

#mimi.writes #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #charles leclerc instagram au #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 oneshot

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months

Text

bad idea, right? | f. odair

masterlist

summary: after receiving a late-night call from your ex-boyfriend, finnick odair, you can’t help but agree to meet with him. what happens when you mix a sound-proof train car and an ex you haven’t seen in months?

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: rough-ish smut, a teensy bit of angry sex, swearing, unprotected sex (zon’t zo that), kinda ooc finnick, choking,

notes: based on 'bad idea, right?' by olivia rodrigo. i lost the person who sent the request so sorry this took so long to come out!! i don’t know if i like how this is written, but smut is smut so… enjoy :)

word count: 4.6k

Neon beams of light pulsed in time with the heavy bass blasting throughout your unnecessarily large home in the Victor’s Village. District Two. Masonry. Big houses.

Two shots of tequila and some other very unnatural concoctions were soaking deep into your brain. Everything was swaying—the room, the people, even you. Your small group of friends danced by your side, keeping together to avoid the creeps that might have entered your home. Although, to you, entertaining a stranger that night did not sound like such a terrible idea.

You felt lonely. Undeniably and pathetically lonely. The alcohol only enhanced your emotions and libido, leading you to search the room for anyone who interested you enough to take them upstairs. But there was no one, because in reality there was only one person you really wanted, and he was no longer yours. He hadn’t been for months.

Replacements had come and gone, but they never stuck. None of them made you feel the way he did.

“Excuse me!” an exasperated voice yelled. “Would you please get out of my way?!”

To your right, your housekeeper, bless her poor deafened soul, was pushing through a crowd of intoxicated partygoers and heading straight for you.

“Claudia!” you shouted over the music, tugging down your short black slip dress out of respect for her modesty.

The elderly woman stopped in front of you, her disapproval of the vibrant scene clear as day. You always paid her double in exchange for putting up with the chaos whenever you threw a house party, which was almost every weekend.

She hovered close to your ear. “There is someone on the phone for you!”

“Did you get a name?!”

After she shook her head, you escorted her through the thick crowd of dancers, into a quieter room and thanked her before beelining for the landline.

With a heavy sigh, you brought the corded phone to your ear and said, “Whoever this is, you better make it quick. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as I need to be and in dire need of another shot.”

Over the scratchy static, you could hear a quiet chuckle—a sound you had spent months trying to forget, along with the person attached to it. How many drinks did you have again? The alcohol must have messed with your mind because this could not be real.

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the caller said, his voice low and amused.

Everything you had longed to forget came rushing to the surface at an overwhelming pace. Wisps of hair the colour of a dying fire. Eyes resembling the sea. Arms that once acted as a life jacket. A dangerous mouth that had explored every inch of your body.

No. It couldn’t be—

“Finnick.”

********

Stupid. This was so fucking stupid. You were attempting to sneak out of your own party. A good old Irish Goodbye in your own house. With luck, you would make it out the front door without being caught by your friends, or worse, Claudia. Now that would be scary.

Water flushed through your system, a weak attempt you made at sobering yourself up because meeting up with your ex while drunk was a recipe for disaster. Then again, so was meeting up with your ex in the first place. Nothing will happen, you thought to yourself, we are just going to talk.

A thought even more unbelievable than thinking you would be able to be able to escape the watchful eyes of your friends.

Your high-heeled foot had just crossed the front door when someone called your name. “Damn,” you muttered, turning back around.

Valeria, your closest yet heavily intoxicated friend strutted over to you, her feet wobbling every few steps. “You sneaky little minx,” she slurred. “Someone said they saw you on the phone. It was him, wasn’t it? He asked you to go see him.”

“Just as friends. No, not even. As acquaintances.”

“Oh, my sweet, sweet silly friend.” She grabbed you by the shoulders. “We both know you aren’t that foolish.”

You looked away because you knew damn well that she was right.

“Look, I get it,” she continued. “Your hot, he’s hot.” You smiled. “You both have a history. I just want to make sure you know all the outcomes of what you're about to do. I’ll be here for you if things do get messy but expect a well-versed speech of me saying ‘I told you so’ afterwards.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Val,” you laughed, prying her hands off your shoulders. “I really do appreciate your concern, but I promise all we’re going to do is talk.”

“Alright, but if things go south, call me. Immediately!” she called a little too loudly as you took subtle steps away from the front door and onto the street. “Have fun with your innocent little ‘talk’!”

“Thanks, mum!”

You waved goodbye as you walked down the street, body buzzing with exhilaration and apprehension. Finnick had told you his train stopped in the district’s station for the night. He and his new victor were travelling throughout Panem for the Victory Tour and were currently in District Two. You didn’t know much about his tribute, only that they were a she. The thought of Finnick spending all his time with another girl had that green-eyed monster inside you writhing.

Enough to make you agree to meet with him after midnight while moderately drunk and slightly horny. What a fantastic plan.

District Two’s train station was a short distance from the Victor’s Village, but it was long enough to cause you to remove your heels. You finally reached the train, barefoot and with the wind softly blowing your hair. Finnick had specified a particular door to knock on so as not to alert the peacekeepers residing within the train. So, you knocked. And then you waited.

Your heart was pounding; your hands were trembling. Not long after, a dark figure appeared behind the door’s tinted window. With a click, the door opened and revealed a shirtless smirking Finnick Odair.

Oh, fuck me.

He was even more gorgeous than the last time you saw him. His crossed arms bulged with thick muscles as he leaned against the doorframe, gaze shamelessly roaming over your scarcely dressed appearance before settling on your face. The amusement in his expression was ever-present and ever-growing.

“Finnick,” you greeted.

“Y/N.”

He extended his hand, inviting you inside the train and hesitantly, you accepted. Sparks of electricity travelled up your arm, starting from where his and your hand connected. Some things never changed.

Empty silence welcomed your presence as you entered the train car. Patterned silver vases of white roses were placed atop every available surface. Meticulously crafted chandeliers lit up the room with a golden haze. To your left was an arrangement of black leather couches surrounding a small silver table; further down the car was a rectangular mahogany dining table decorated with fruit and unlit candles.

Somehow a single train car was more luxurious than your entire house.

“Is every one asleep?” you asked, running your fingertips along the pure gold that lined the couches.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes following your movements. “Every room on this train is sound-proof, so...”

You nodded, unsure of how else to reply. Conversations usually ran smoothly between you and Finnick. They were effortless. But that was when you were together. Four months must have passed now since you last spoke.

“Are you and what’s-his-name still together?” he asked.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I broke up with him last month.”

“My sincerest condolences.” His sympathetic tone was as transparent as glass. Sarcasm always was his favourite pastime. “Guess he just couldn’t satisfy your needs.”

Turning around to face him, you leaned against the couch’s arm, jaw clenched and eyes glowering with agitation. “Is there any specific reason why you called me here?”

He raised a glass of rich amber liquid to his lips. “Can’t two old friends just reconnect?”

“Old friends,” you scoffed. “That’s what you call it. From what I remember, the last time we saw each other, we were having goodbye sex in your bed. And in the kitchen and the lounge and on the balcony.”

Something sincere overshadowed his teasing nature, revealing itself in the tension in his facial muscles and the glassy haze that clouded his eyes. Reminiscence. “It didn’t have to be goodbye,” he spoke softly whilst holding your gaze.

You blinked. There was a short pause and only the quiet hum of the lights sounded in the room. You were the one to end the relationship, not the other way around much to your friends’ disbelief. Over and over, you had been asked the same question: why on earth would you break up with Finnick Odair?

Well, behind closed doors, he was incredible. He was loving, affectionate, and thoughtful. He would collect seashells for you that he found on the beach whenever he went fishing, leave hand-written poetry and heartfelt love letters whenever he left for the Capitol, and mother of fucking Christ was the sex just downright extraordinary.

But as previously stated, it was all behind closed doors.

Finnick never wanted to be seen together in public and on the off chance you were, he would practically neglect your existence. Only your most trusted friends and Finnick’s family knew about your relationship. No one else. Eventually, the secretiveness created a deep void inside you that not even the sweetest love letters and seashells could fill. You couldn’t remain with someone who seemed ashamed to be with you in public.

So, with a heavy heart, you said goodbye.

In fear of becoming too emotional, you disregarded his weighted words and crossed your arms. “So,” you began, “how’s the Tour been so far? You must be pretty ecstatic one of your tributes actually won.”

He bounced back fairly quickly. “I suppose it’s always nice to watch someone you trained live for a change,” he said, placing his drink on a nearby table. “Plus, she’s got a lot of charisma. A natural with the speeches and interviews, so I don’t need to do too much coaching.”

And there it was again—that green-eyed monster. “Charisma, huh?” You just couldn’t help yourself. “Is she pretty too?”

Finnick tilted his head, visibly surprised by your blatant jealousy. “She just turned sixteen,” he stated with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Well, no one told you that bit of information. Awkward. “Careful, Y/N. You sounded a little jealous there.”

You pushed off the chair, heading back toward the door you entered through. Maybe this was a bad idea. “Alright, I’m leaving now.”

Just as you turned the handle, a set of rushed footsteps thudded behind you. The door opened a mere crack, sending in a cold draft that caused your body to shudder.

“Wait, just—” A swift hand came over your shoulder and pushed the door shut, eliciting a startled gasp from your lips. You could feel Finnick towering over you, the warmth of his skin spreading onto your cold back and his breaths fanning down against the bareness of your shoulder. He was so close. “I just needed to see you before I leave tomorrow morning.”

Slowly, you turned around, coming face-to-face with the man you shouldn’t have loved. His burning gaze was a stark contrast to the icy metal door your back was pressed against. Tension pulsated in the small space between you and him. The intense attraction that had first brought you two together came rushing forth; trying to fight such a magnetic force was impossible. You needed connection—touch.

This night would not end with just a simple innocent chat, you knew that now.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “You needed to see me?” you asked. “Finnick, if you want me to stay, don’t beat around the bush. Tell me what you really want.”

Silence. He continued staring at you and you could see a scheme forming behind his mesmerising green eyes. Then the scheme was unfolding. He leaned down to your level, to your lips, his half-lidded eyes never leaving your mouth as he just barely allowed his lips to brush yours. On instinct, you tilted your head upwards.

“I want you,” he whispered.

You didn’t waste a second to respond. “Then take me.”

He was quicker than a bullet train. Finnick’s lips caught your own and were burning with fiery desire, evident in his haste to wrap you up in his arms and practically merge your body with his. Flames licked just beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight with passion and lust. You burned together in an inferno fuelled by each other’s touch.

Logically, this was wrong. Finnick was your ex-boyfriend and for good reason. But as your hands clung to every inch of him that they possibly could, as his tongue and yours danced fluidly with one another, and as your body buzzed with pure adrenaline, you were willing to abandon all your morals in exchange for five more minutes in his embrace.

A moan travelled from your mouth to his own as you felt him bite your lower lip. You could already feel that familiar throbbing sensation between your thighs and the wetness that exposed how much you craved him. You knew he felt the same. His sweatpants left little to the imagination.

Your hand slipped between your connected bodies, travelling down Finnick’s firm stomach, gliding over his small trail of hair and finally into his pants. Your fingers curled around his cock which already leaked with precum. He was just as desperate as you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound sending tingles down your spine.

You left his lips to press a wet kiss to his neck. “I wonder how many times you pretended your hand was my own,” you purred, leaving another kiss on his clavicle. “How many times you tried to recreate the warmth you only feel when you're inside me.”

His mouth hung open, letting out quiet uneven breaths as you stroked his length, your pace so quick that he already felt an overwhelming urge to release into your soft unrelenting hand. The sound of your voice, so sexy and lustful, combined with your swift pressured movements had his stomach tensing and contracting with a devastating build-up of pleasure.

“Too many times,” he admitted in a strained voice.

You sucked on the warm pulsing skin of his neck, this time receiving a groan that buzzed on your lips. His hands grabbed at your hips for support, roughly kneading the softness and satin in his large palms.

“This dress—fuck!” his voice broke as another hand slipped into his pants, cupping his balls as the other twisted with each stroke of his cock. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled breathlessly. “You look like a fucking siren.”

Your soft lips pecked at his toned chest before pulling away and looking up at him through your lashes. Euphoric delirium was prominent in his eyes. “You should’ve seen everyone staring at my party,” you said. “I wish you saw how badly the men wanted to fuck me right there on the dancefloor; how they undressed me with their eyes. Maybe then you would understand the mistake you made by never showing me off.”

Aggravation blazed in his aroused eyes which only made you so much hornier. Before you could pump another stroke, Finnick had ripped your hands from his pants and spun you around, pinning your body against the wall with his own, his hard cock pushing against the plush of your ass.

“I do understand,” he growled into your ear.

He abruptly started sucking hard kisses onto the side of your neck which had you gasping for air and tilting your head to allow him further access. One of his hands cupped your breast, massaging it with rough fingers and pinching your peaked nipples between his fingertips. His other hand travelled around your hip, wandering beneath your revealing dress and slipping into your lace panties.

You cried out when two fingers plunged into your soaking hole without warning.

“Know what I wish?” he asked, fingers curling in and out of you at such a rapid pace that the wet noises could be heard throughout the entire room. Blissful tears threatened to spill down your face. “I wish those guys could see how you looked right now with my fingers fucking you.” The hand on your breast moved to your throat, applying enough pressure on your carotid to make your head pound with dizziness. “I wish they knew you only enjoy being fucked by me.”

Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him even further inside. Your untouched breasts were squashed against the train door and the fabric of your dress rubbed against your sensitive nipples. Finnick’s cock twitched against you and his hand was constricting the blood flow to your head. Yeah. Nobody else could make you feel better than this.

Finnick plunged his fingers inside again with a hard thrust which forced a broken moan from your lips. “Isn’t that right?”

The heel of his palm dug into your clit and your entire body was overcome with pins and needles; your knees buckled and hit the metal door. That would definitely bruise. You hoped it would—you wanted a reminder of this night.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Finnick, only you. Only you.”

“That’s right.”

Your moans started to rise in pitch, signalling the orgasm which was rapidly closing in. But right before you could come, Finnick’s fingers slipped out of you and out of your now-drenched panties. Your orgasm began to fade due to the lack of friction until it disappeared completely, leaving you feeling frustrated and neglected.

Turning back around with a flushed face, you witnessed Finnick sucking your juices off his fingers with a pop. His grin was conniving, self-satisfied with his actions which proved how desperately you wanted him to fuck you. That smug bastard. You would give anything to wipe the amusement off his beautiful fucking face.

And, well, you did.

“Fuck you!” you exclaimed, shoving him backwards.

“Fuck me?” He raised an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “I already know you want to.”

With a frustrated cry, you shoved him again, but this time he caught you in his arms and fervidly crushed his lips to yours. You squirmed and writhed and resisted but eventually melted into his embrace when you remembered you wanted this. You wanted this so badly.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as both your bodies continuously curved into one another, neither of you being able to remain still for more than a few seconds. The taste of brandy and you were on Finnick’s tongue as it swirled around your mouth; the flavours, which were polar opposites, sweet and savoury, mixed together to create something utterly carnal.

With the knowledge that this was probably a one-time thing, your kisses became bruising and frantic. Finnick alternated between kissing your lips, your neck, your jaw, and any place he could possibly reach. You hung onto every sound he made, every hot breath he took.

The two of you stumbled around the train car, lips never leaving one another, hands grabbing at every inch of flesh they could reach. You bumped into walls and multiple glass ornaments and laughed together when Finnick just barely caught one before it shattered on the floor.

Eventually, you ended up down the opposite end of the train car. Your back hit something hard and you gasped in surprise. The dining table. Finnick gave a quick glance at the table before pressing another kiss to your lips, this time a little more tenderly.

“Turn around,” he said, and you did.

You immediately felt him press himself against your behind. You stared ahead, chest heaving and swollen lips tingling, waiting for any more commands. His hand walked around your thigh, over the mound of your pussy, and then grazed up your stomach. He left a trail of warm tingles between your breasts before continuing upward to move your hair from your shoulder where he placed another warm gentle kiss.

Finally, he splayed his hand flat between your shoulder blades and pushed, bending you over the table until your torso lay flat on the cold wooden surface. Finnick hiked your dress up to your hips and crouched down, caressing your outer thighs before sliding your panties down to your ankles.

The air hit your bare skin and you exhaled a shaky breath as you anticipated his next movements. As he rose to his feet, he trailed kisses up your leg, ending with a soft bite to your ass which earned him a small giggle.

You could hear him tug down his sweatpants which hit the floor with a muffled thud. Your breaths continued to shake with nerves, coming out in soft pants. Finnick held onto your hip with one hand and held himself in the other. No words were spoken. Both of you wanted this—needed this.

Next thing you knew, your panting breaths had stopped altogether. Finnick’s cock had slid between your folds, filling you up in one single movement, and you both released a relieved moan in sync. Your hands pressed against the tabletop as your body began to rock with his thrusts. You weren’t going to make love or whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. No. This was pure unadulterated fucking.

Finnick started off fast; neither of you had the patience for a slow build-up. You didn’t even bother caring about the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom. His hand had lowered to your mid back and the other gripped your hip as your warmth swallowed him over and over.

“Oh god,” you gasped.

The sensations that overtook your body were eagerly welcomed. You had tried to replicate the sex Finnick gave with other men after your relationship ended, but none seemed to compare even the slightest. You weren’t sure how a single human being could provide the sensations of nirvana, how one could master the skills of bringing another person to such an incredible high, but Finnick could. He always could.

It was only at this point that you realised how badly your body had been in withdrawal from his touch. The feeling of him inside you was like a drug. Addicting. Definitely not healthy.

You had tried fingering yourself to replicate his cock, but it was a pathetic attempt. Finnick could hit a deep spot inside you that no one else could like it was some secret forbidden location that only he held the key to. He made your body feel full. Stuffed. Complete. In a way that made you feel like you were going to burst into an explosion of white heavenly light.

Your nails scratched at the wood as he continued to pound into you, cock gliding against the ripples of your inner walls. There wasn’t a single inch of space left inside you. He fit like your pussy was where he belonged.

“Always feel so fucking good,” he muttered between thrusts.

His pleasure was always vocal, voiced with heavy breaths, grunts, and groans. Sometimes he even whimpered, especially when you edged him. He didn’t mind you being more dominant at times, but right now was not one of those moments. Being bent over and fucked into a table was not in any way, shape, or form you being dominant. This was Finnick being in control and it felt incredible.

“Finnick,” you said. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”

In response he grabbed your other hip and pulled you back into him, burying himself even deeper inside you with each thrust which had you crying out his name again. He hunched over your body, hips still pounding behind you, and sucked harsh kisses on your shoulder. He left behind red and deep purple marks on your shoulder, moving to your neck, and then grazed your earlobe with his teeth.

He returned a hand to your throat, forcing the both of you into a standing position. His fingers squeezed, reducing the blood flow into your brain which enhanced the explosion building up inside you.

“Harder!” you cried.

Both his cock and his hand increased their vigour. Stars were sparkling in your vision. You were almost completely sober now, yet you felt entirely drunk. Drunk on Finnick. He reached his free hand between your legs and your body fell back into his, only remaining upright from his support.

His fingers rubbed side-to-side on your clit, so hard and fast that his hand almost blurred in motion. Your moans rose an octave as your stomach began to tighten. A fire burned within your muscles, so pleasurably excruciating that you thought they would liquefy inside you. Your pussy clenched around Finnick’s cock, walls fluttering with each of his pounding thrusts.

“Come, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear. You could hear how much he struggled to contain his moans as he talked. “Come on, I know you're close. I can feel you.”

You nodded mindlessly and curled your arm backwards around his neck, in need of something to cling to. As the feeling inside your stomach intensified, your eyes squeezed shut and your hold around his neck tightened until you were almost choking him. With every ounce of strength that he had inside him, Finnick increased his pace until he fit multiple mind-destroying thrusts into each second that passed.

He was almost animalistic with his pounding and unrestrained groans of pleasure. And you were so close, so, so close to falling over the edge. His hand was constricted around your throat; the other assaulted your clit, and his cock was mercilessly hitting that swollen spot inside you. Any second and—

“I’m go—I’m gonna come!”

A potent cocktail of pleasure, ecstasy, and release washed through your body, unravelling the tension inside your stomach and exiting through your stuffed hole. Your juices coated Finnick’s cock with warmth as you repeated his name over and over.

You could feel him twitching inside you, spilling himself onto your clenching walls whilst bending you over to senselessly fuck you into the table. His moans were so loud, so fucking attractive, but may God have mercy on both of you if the room wasn’t actually soundproof.

Neither of you could stop. You came an immeasurable number of times; your hands left marks on Finnick’s body as he did on yours, and every surface in the room had been tainted with your sin. You clung onto one another, desperately prolonging your night together that would most likely be the last. Ever.

*********

“Don’t leave again.”

Your fingers stilled as you strapped on your high heels. You glanced up at Finnick—who now had his sweatpants back on—from the gold-lined leather chair you sat in.

“Finnick…” you sighed.

“Please,” he said. Crouching down in front of you, he gently took your hand into his own. His face, which previously reflected nothing but pleasure, now looked at you with pained desperation. “I’ll explain everything to you. Why I was always in the Capitol. Why it was too dangerous for us to be seen together in public. All of it.”

The mention of danger took you aback. You had thought he never wanted to be seen together because he was embarrassed, not because it was… dangerous. Brows furrowed together, your eyes flickered between his, searching for any hint of deception, anything that might reveal malicious intentions. But when had Finnick ever been malicious towards you? Never. All you found in his eyes was sincerity.

“I can’t lose you again,” he whispered, lowering his head.

After a few seconds of contemplation, you realised there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to walk out on him again. Life would mean nothing without Finnick beside you.

Your fingers sat under his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze. The two of you exchanged a look of vulnerability, signifying an era of newfound understanding and reconnection.

You whispered in response. “You’ve got me, Finn.”

tags: @tayrae515

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #sam claflin #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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contact-guy · 4 months

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I was seized with a fervor and could not rest until I illustrated one of my favorite scenes from Sherlock Holmes: the Adventure of the Devil's Foot. While Holmes and Watson take a holiday in the Cornish countryside for Holmes's health, multiple people in the nearby village are found driven mad or dead from horror. Holmes deduces a substance that was burned in their presence is to blame. With a bit of the mysterious powder and a gas lamp in hand, he proposes an experiment to Watson...

content warning for drug use!

I'm not sure if it's supported by the canon but in my mind this is the first time Holmes ever apologies to Watson and he is so overcome with emotion that he immediately makes it weird

Text under the cut:

"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face. The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then, I take our powder--or what remains of it--from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments."

They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had undergone.

"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry."

"You know," I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so much of Holmes's heart before, "that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you."

He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about him. "It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe." He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced?"

#it's another love confession #sherlock holmes #john watson #acd holmes #acd canon #long post #my art

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omgeto · 9 months

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☆ GIMME, GIMME MORE — GETO SUGURU

summary: you were just a stripper who had no desire to fuck with any customers, but there was just one you couldn’t shake. once he laid his eyes on you, he wanted you. and with every little piece of you he got — he wanted more.

wc: 6.5k (my longest fic ever, lord help me) its a lot of plot with a nice chunk of smut

cw: afab!stripper!reader, angst to fluff, smutty smut, you fuck in his car, you fuck in a private room (i remembered condoms this time) so mdni sassy geto, if you squint.

an: listen to this song to feel the vibe, I love me some geto and I’ve yet to do a fic for him so I hope you enjoy this one.

the entrance to the high-end club exudes an air of opulence, with its glimmering lights and sophisticated clientele. geto suguru strolls in alongside his best friend, gojo satoru, the low hum of the music washing over them. the glances around, a mixture of boredom and detachment etched on his face. this isn't really his scene, but gojo had insisted on a night out.

as they find their way to a table, surrounded by plush seating and an atmosphere of indulgence, geto's attention wanders. the dancers on stage move with practised sensuality, but his gaze remains distant. until, that is, a change in the music's tempo signals a shift in the performance.

the spotlight illuminates the stage, revealing a figure that seems to command the room's attention effortlessly. you move with a fluid grace, your body swaying in time with the sultry rhythm. the way your hips move, the confidence in your eyes, it's as if you own the room. gojo's earlier detachment gives way to fascination he can't deny.

he couldn’t take his eyes off the way you were sliding down the pole, leaning forward in his seat to see more of you. the star shaped nipple covers and the gem encrusted thong you were wearing left nothing to the imagination. but still he couldn’t help but picture it all off of you, leaning forward in his seat to try and get a closer look.

gojo nudges him playfully. "not bad, right?"

geto’s response is a low, appreciative whistle as his eyes remain locked on the captivating dancer. his heart races as he watches you command the stage, a magnetic presence that draws him in despite his earlier disinterest. he couldn’t help but feel that you were dancing for him, call him cocky but the way your eyes were locked on him as you threw your ass back against the pole — he knew that was just for him. he looked around the room and saw that everyone else was just as captivated by you as he was.

“she’s the best performer here, she doesn’t do private dances, she doesn’t even do a long set,” gojo brags to geto but he’s barely listening, his eyes too focused on you, “this is as much of her as we can get.”

as the performance reaches its climax, geto’s lips curve into a slow smile. gojo’s grin is knowing. "looks like someone's found their muse." geto’s tears his gaze away just as you exit the stage, his interest piqued.

“you’ve got a request,” your boss announces insistent and smug, cornering you immediately after you exit the stage.

“you know i don't do requests, i come here, i do a 30 minute set and i leave remember?” you retort, stepping to walk straight past him, but he stops you, standing in front of you to block your path.

“this is a request you can’t refuse,” he adds, a smirk forming on his lips. your eyes narrow at his words, already feeling a sense of unease.

“oh i think i can,” your intention is clear as you step forward, intending to brush past him and continue on your way. but he remains unmoved, determined to stand in your path, his stance a physical barrier you can't easily circumvent.

“there’s a special guest tonight, someone who’s willing to pay handsomely for a private performance,” he explains, his tone implying much more than his words reveal.

you pause, folding your arms, sceptical. “how much are we talking about?”

he names a figure that makes your eyebrows shoot up. It’s a significant sum, the kind that could cover your bills for months, or even help you save for a future beyond the club. but still, you hesitate.

“like i said, i don't take request,” you conclude, brushing past your boss.

“i don’t think this particular patron will like that,” he tries to argue, following directly behind you.

“ask me if i care,” with those words, you step forward once more, your purpose clear as you attempt to carry on. but his presence remains a persistent shadow at your side, his attempts to sway you far from over.

his argument falters momentarily, but he regains his composure quickly, his tone becoming insistent. "this particular patron isn't accustomed to denial. I don't think he'll take kindly to it."

a defiant smirk tugs at your lips, your patience waning as you find yourself driven further by your own principles. "well, here's a thought—perhaps he should learn."

with that final retort, you pivot on your heel, striding purposefully toward the locker room. the temptation of the significant sum and the vague promise of this special patron tug at the edges of your thoughts, but your determination remains resolute.

“if you don’t do it your fired.” he calls out after you, a desperate final attempt to get you to agree.

you knew you were going against your better judgement, but you turn back to face your boss and with a deep sigh you agree, “fine, i’ll do it. but you owe me.”

with simmering frustration bubbling beneath the surface, you push open the door to the private room, your entrance punctuated by the subtle swish of the heavy fabric. the air within was charged, a blend of anticipation and tension, as you found geto suguru lounging on the plush sofa, his presence an unwelcome sight that intensified your irritation.

your words come out abruptly, a firm reminder to both him and yourself, “i don’t fuck clients,” you state, a touch of defensiveness in your tone. you wanted to establish your boundaries, to make it clear you wouldn’t be swayed easily.

he chuckles, catching you off guard, his amusement evident. “thats nice…” he adds, with a hint of playfulness, “i just wanted to talk anyways.”

“to talk?” you question, surprised at his request, as you knew what went on in the private rooms and talking was far from that.

“yeah, just wanna get to know you,” he explains casually, his eyes studying you.

“i don’t do time wasters,” you complain, ready to leave the room, “and i don’t have time to waste.”

“even if im paying for your time?” he bargains, raising his eyebrows, “im sure your boss told you the pretty expensive bill im footing just for your time.”

crossing your arms, you met his gaze with a steady one of your own. “look, mr…?”

“just call me suguru,” he interjected with a smile that held a hint of charm.

“alright, suguru,” you continued, your tone resolute, “i'm not here to entertain idle chit-chat. i’ll dance for you for an hour and thats it. just abide by the club rules, otherwise im out.”

“why don’t you take private requests?” he inquiries, disregarding your comments.

“because i don’t have to,” you respond nonchalantly, “why are you so persistent that you pay for my time. there’s tons of other great strippers in this club.”

“because i want you.” he shrugs.

“well too bad,” you mock, “just because you have money doesn’t mean you can buy everything.”

“everyone’s got a price,” he argues, chuckling softly, a condescending tone underling his words, “ah, but isn't that the way the world works? everything has a price, even principles.”

the audacity of his statement ignited a fire within you, your voice heated with defiance and scorn. “you think im for sale? you think i’d compromise my integrity just for a fat stack of bills? you’re delusional.”

“oh but isn’t your integrity already compromised,” he teases, raising his eyebrows, “is miss, ‘i dont do private dances,’ not in a private dance with me right now?”

“you know wha–”

“i changed my mind. i don’t want to talk anymore,” there was a shift in his tone, amusement danced in his eyes, “strip for me.”

you were pissed. but you couldn’t actually argue – he was right. he was paying for your time and he could spend it anyway he wanted to. you’d rather have him silently watching you anyways than talking to you.

the music blared through the speakers in the room, and you immediately straddled geto, you could feel his dick harden underneath you. the only thing separating you two was the thin layer of fabric of your thong.

you could see him smirk at you, but you ignored him, grinding your hips down on him to the beat of the music. his starts to trail down your sides, but you give him a pointed look reminding him of the rules – no touching. he surrenders his hands placing them besides his head, content in watching you dance on his lap.

you moved off of him, using the pole that was in the room, his eyes stayed fixed on you. you wanted to put on a show for him, so you move your body expressing a mix of sensuality and power, your eyes lock onto his, daring him to challenge you further, to push your boundaries even more.

the hour was eventually up, and geto didn’t say anything as he left, he just leaves a fat stack of bills on the table, and for some reason you couldn’t bite your tongue, “is that it? you’re just going to leave?”

“well the hours up, no?” he responds, checking his watch, “and, i’ve paid you for your time.” you couldn’t argue with that, so you remain silent watching as he turns his back on you to leave the room.

“suguru,” you call out, getting him to pause, “wait.”

“i thought you didn’t fuck clients,” he smirks, coming up from in between your thighs, “but i am not complaining”

“s-shut up,” you exhale, you’d like to believe that you didn’t expect this to happen, but you knew that was a lie. you didn’t get far out of the club, in fact you didn’t make it out of the parking lot. the back of geto’s car seemed to be perfect with the way he was eating you out.

the feeling of geto sucking on your clit, had your head empty. his head being pressed between your thighs makes your back arch as you push up against his face. he laps against your folds, drowning in your wetness.

“‘i don’t do private dances,’” he mocks your previous words, amused with himself, “oh if only you could see yourself now.” he enjoyed you like this, pinned under him, your pussy dripping all over his face, you were a writhing mess; no longer complaining to him about his actions, you were reduced down to moans and incoherent sentences, the only thing he could hear clearly was his name.

“suguru ah s-shit,” you curse, as he presses down on your clit, “do you always talk this much?” you tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding his face closer in your pussy, his nose deep in your arousal. he was practically inhaling you, swirling his tongue deep inside, trying to taste every inch of you.

“‘m close suguru,” you whine, thrust up against his face aiming to reach your peak on your own.

“calm down princess,” he teases, pulling his lips away from your pussy, “didn’t know you were this eager.” he presses his lips down on yours, making you taste yourself as his hand goes behind your neck to hold you in place. “see how sweet you can be?”

he takes his dick out of his pants, quickly putting on a condom, not even giving you much time to think before he’s slamming into your cunt. your eyes widen as your pussy stretches, and geto can only bite his lip as he feels you clench around him.

“you feel so good, y’know that right” he murmurs, forcing himself into you deeper, “so fuckin’ tight.”

he was merciless, gripping his hands on your tits, as he pistons out of you. he could only focus on how your cunt tightens around him with every push. you were pushing yourself down on him, fucking him right back. you didn’t care for his praise, you just wanted to cum.

“‘you’re t-too much, i-it’s too much”

“but you’re taking me so well,” he argues, with a grin. peppering kissing against your neck as he fucks you to a hilt. your hands find their way back into his hair, pulling and tugging at it as you moan out his name.

his dick twitches inside you as you call at his name, you could feel that he was about to cum. his strokes were getting sloppier, and his mouth went from biting to sucking on your neck. you could feel yourself about to climax, clawing at his back, as he continues to hit your spot.

“suguru, i’m about to–”

“cum with me,” he demands, swiftly pulling out of and leaving his cum all over your stomach. you release onto his car seats, your cum spilling out of your pussy, pooling into his car seats.

after coming down off your high, you come to your senses. “this doesn’t change anything.” you remove yourself out of his hold, pushing him off you.

“you really gonna say that after i gave you the best time of your life?”

"'best time of my life?'" you echo, a smirk tugging at your lips as you gather your belongings, "someone's cocky."

“i'm starting to feel you like me that way,” he teases, his words a playful challenge.

you roll your eyes, not willing to engage in his banter any longer. "goodbye, suguru," you reply, opening his car door. "don't return to the club."

“oi princess,” he calls after you, “you left your thong.”

“keep it.” you wink as you step outside of the car, “think of it as a souvenir.”

“why would i need that, when im going to see you again?” you don't respond, shutting the car door with a smile on your face as part of you hoped that he did return.

geto did see you again, practically every day after that. it became a consistent routine, he’d book a private room for a couple hours, you’d fuck, you’d talk and see each other whenever he wanted. he came when he needed you – and he always needed you.

as a stripper, you’ve always had one rule ‘don’t fuck with clients,’ but the moment that geto suguru laid his eyes on you – you were his. there was something about him that made him different from all the other patrons, although they were all snobby rich guys, the way that geto carried himself made you feel like he was worth breaking your rule. or at least that's what you told yourself.

you didn’t just fuck each other – sometimes he just wanted to talk to you, to ask you about your day, to get to know you. and you could tell he was starting to catch feelings that you weren’t prepared to deal with. however, despite him being rich, there was something endearing in knowing that he went out of his way, every day, to pay just to see you. even when you were mean and standoffish.

you always spoke for longer than you expected – longer than he even paid for. geto surprised you, he was actually interested in talking with you. as the minutes turned into an hour, the conversations flowed in unexpected directions. you found yourselves sharing stories, discussing interests, and laughing at each other’s jokes. geto’s charming demeanour and genuine interest gradually chipped away at your initial reservations.

“did you always want to be a stripper?” he asks, you had just finished fucking and he still had an hour left of paid time with you, and he was going to use it.

“do you always pillowtalk?” you retort smartly, evading his question.

“who would’ve thought you’d still be this bitchy after being fucked so good,” he jokes, pulling you into his hold that you quickly ease into, “girl just answer the question.”

“i don’t know,” you sigh, “i needed the money, i loved to dance, so being a stripper was a no brainer to me.”

“do you like working here?”

you shift slightly in his embrace, your fingers idly trace patterns on his chest. "liking it? well, it pays the bills, if that's what you're asking."

his fingers brush against your hair in a soothing gesture. "but is that all? just a means to an end?"

you sigh, a mixture of vulnerability and honesty in your tone. "i mean, it's not like i dreamt of becoming a stripper when I was a kid. but it's a job that's allowed me some financial stability, even if it's temporary."

geto's voice was gentle, his curiosity evident. "temporary for how long?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating how much to reveal. "i don’t know, i haven’t thought that far. i just wanna make money.”

"well, if you ever get tired of dancing, i can always buy the club for you." his response was unexpected, a mixture of humour and absurdity. “i think you’d make a good boss.”

“ha, if you did that i’d know that you’re truly obsessed with me,” you chuckle, his words catching you off guard. “i know you enjoy this place, but that's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"maybe, but you're worth it." he grins, his playful demeanour unwavering. "you're more than what you do here, you know."

a soft, ironic chuckle escapes your lips. "funny, coming from someone who's always here."

his grip on you tightens slightly, his voice holding a trace of seriousness. "perhaps I come here because I want to be around you. not just the dancer."

it was as if his presence had chipped away at the walls you had erected, leaving you exposed to a whirlwind of feelings you hadn't anticipated.his gaze, unwavering and intense, held yours as if searching for a sign—a spark of recognition that you too were experiencing this undeniable pull.

"suguru," you begin, your voice a whisper that barely bridged the distance between you, "this... whatever it is between us, it can't be as simple as you wanting to be around me."

he smiles softly, a gentle curve of his lips that holds both understanding and patience. "you're right, it's not simple. but isn't that what makes it worth exploring?" his words were a delicate melody, an invitation to step beyond the boundaries you had created.

you met his gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and longing. the weight of his presence was undeniable, a force that had drawn you in and left you yearning for more. but your insecurities whispered caution, reminding you of the differences that set you apart.

"suguru," you admit, your voice softer now, "i've never let anyone get this close. it's complicated, and I don't even know where this could lead."

“it doesn’t matter where it will leads,” he says, “what matters is that you like me? right?”

his words hung in the air, a direct question that pierced through the layers of uncertainty and vulnerability that surrounded you. the room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of his question settling like a delicate veil over the intimate space you shared.

your breath caught, and for a moment, time itself seemed to pause. the truth, the raw honesty that had eluded you, stood before you—bold and unyielding. you looked into his eyes, his gaze unwavering and patient, as if he was giving you the space to find your own truth within the question.

your voice, soft and tinged with a mixture of trepidation and longing, finally found its way to the surface. "i..." you pause, the words catching in your throat. but in the depth of his gaze, you found a strange sense of comfort, an assurance that you could be honest without judgement.

"maybe," you admit, your voice a whisper that carries the weight of your emotions. "maybe i do like you, suguru." the admission felt like a release, letting go of the barriers you had constructed to protect yourself.

a slow smile curved his lips, a genuine expression that lit up his features. it was as if your honesty had unlocked a door, allowing both of you to step closer to a truth that had been waiting to surface. he replies with deep content, "maybe is a good start,"

the room felt charged with an energy you couldn't quite define, a tension that simmered beneath the surface. your eyes held his, a silent conversation that spoke volumes—an acknowledgement of the unspoken connection that had grown between you.

as you lay there, cocooned in the aftermath of both physical intimacy and heartfelt conversation, an internal struggle brewed within you. your heart was stirred by the sincerity of geto's words, by the connection that seemed to grow stronger with every interaction. yet, amidst the warmth and comfort, a sense of bittersweet uncertainty gnawed at you.

the boundary you had set, the rule you had vowed to uphold, wavered under the weight of emotions you hadn't anticipated. you were drawn to geto, but a tangle of reservations held you back.

in the embrace of the night, you found yourself torn between the allure of a connection you had come to cherish and the lingering fear of what being with him might entail.

“you’re here early,” you comment, seeing geto in his usual seat. at this point, you were practically excited to see him, happy to go to work knowing that he’d show up.

“i guess i thought i’d change things up a bit,” he mutters his tone of voice off, “we’ve got to make this quick, though” he starts to undo his belt, “i’ve only got an hour till my next meeting.”

“wow no talking today?” you ask amused. geto usually is the one that likes to take his time, he always says he prefers to stimulate your mind before anything else, but today was different.

he gives you a pointed look, not bothering to respond so you continue to say, “an hour?” smirking as you straddle his lap, freeing his dick, “i think that’s more than enough time.”

“new outfit?” he muses, pulling at the straps of the lingerie you were wearing. you nod, focusing on stroking his dick, “red’s your colour, i like it. but i’d rather see it off you.” suddenly, he rips off your bra and forces you up to take off your panties. you bend down to take off your heels, but he pauses you, “keep those on.”

“get my fingers wet for me,” he commands, dragging you back onto his lap. you happily comply, taking in two fingers into your warm, pouty mouth. he caresses your jaw as you greedily nibble on his fingers.

he pulls them out thoroughly coated with your saliva and shoves them into your pussy. you gasp at the contact, and crumble into his side but he forces your head up with his hand pressing a rough kiss to your lips.

“w-whats with you today?” you query, as you see the look on geto’s face – something was off with him. although you couldn’t deny the pleasure you were getting from his current roughness, you were used to a gentler geto.

“nothing,” he dismisses you, slipping in another finger into your soaking pussy. his thumb rubs against your clit as his fingers easily glide in and out of you. you felt like you cum off of his fingers alone, you grind down hard against his fingers aiding yourself in reaching your climax. but just as you were nearing, he swiftly removes his fingers landing a fat smack against your clit, “i know i said i had to make it quick, but i didn’t think you’d be this excited.”

geto swiftly puts on a condom, raises you up slightly before slamming you down on his dick. he smiles as your legs wrap around his back, pleased by the sound of your heels clacking together. you shudder as he immediately fills you, your pussy stretching, taking all of him.

he thrusts into you hard, and you try to meet his pace and fuck him back as hard as he was doing to you – but you were no match for him. you were practically a ragdoll as he hammered into you, your arms flinging around his neck to hold yourself up.

“f-fuck,” you moan, clawing at his back, “im gonna cum.”

“hold it,” he demands, continuing to give you strong, relentless strokes. your head falls into his shoulder in submission, you were already gushing all over him, but he keeps going, hard and fast. he lifts up your head, and presses a soft peck against your lips before saying, “cum.”

geto movements turn sloppy as he finishes into the condom. you release all over his dick, shuddering as you feel your peak surge through you. he presses one more kiss to your neck, before you move off of him.

“are you good?” you finally ask him, as you put back on your outfit, “you seemed a little out of it tonight.”

he shifts on his feet, his restlessness palpable as he watches you. "yeah," he mumbles, looking around the room at everything but you, his fingers fumbling with his belt as if seeking something to anchor himself. "i'm alright."

"you sure?" you persist, a touch of concern pushing you to press further. usually, you wouldn't challenge him this way – because whatever he says goes in the time that he pays for. but the stark contrast to his usual demeanour gnaws at your thoughts. "i just want to make sure that you're okay–"

"didn't I say I was alright," he sneers, a defensive edge entering his tone, "it's like you don't listen or something."

“see, there is definitely something wrong with you,” you snap, screwing your face up at his tone, “since the usual geto that walks up in here knows that he’ll have my heel shoved up his asshole before he can talk to me like that.”

your words hang in the air, the charged tension growing thicker as you each hold your ground. he shifts his weight, his gaze flickering toward you briefly before skittering away. the air seems heavy with unspoken words, a tangible unease settling between you.

"i've actually been wondering how long we're going to be doing this for," he finally says, his voice low, almost as if he's reluctant to voice the thought.

“this?” you question, a confused look appears upon your face as you fold your arms. you knew what he was getting at – you just wanted to hear him say it, “you mean my job.”

his gaze finally lifts to meet yours, a sardonic smile tugging at his lips. "oh, I didn't know it was your job to fuck the customers here. I thought you were just a stripper… not a prostitute."

his words hit like a jolt, a rush of emotion flooding your senses as you absorb their implications. your jaw tightens, a surge of frustration warring with a pang of hurt. "don't be condescending."

he chuckles, the sound a mix of amusement and something else you can't quite place. "why not? you seem to be a pro at it."

“fuck you.”

“y’know, i’ve figured a lot about you in these times we’ve spent together – despite the fact that you don’t talk much,” he starts to say, his grin getting wider with every word, “i’ve worked out that you liked to be chased, you like the fact that I was intrigued enough to make you break your dumb ass rule, you like the fact that even after I managed to break down your pussy walls, I still wanna take your rude ass to dinner.”

his words cut deep, the truth laced with a mocking tone. you glare at him, the mixture of attraction and anger churning within you. he was right in a way – you did like the chase, the thrill of his attention.

"you really have it all figured out, don't you?" you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. his observations stung because they hit too close to the mark. but there was a small part of you that reminded yourself that he was just like the rest of the rich assholes that strolled through the club – and he was proving you right in this very moment.

“well suguru, i’ve worked some things about you.” you sneer, “you’re not the first wealthy lame that has walked into this club demanding more from me than a lap dance and some ego stroking–”

“but i’m the first to get it though aren’t i,” he interrupts, his tone teasing, “what does that say about me?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms defensively. "it says that you're just like the rest of them, thinking you're different, thinking you're special."

his gaze narrows, the spark of something more intense gleaming in his eyes. "oh, I never said I was different. but I am special, darling, and you know it.” you huff defiantly, sitting back down on the couch – this was an argument you couldn’t. because although he was cocky, he was right.

geto joins you, his hand coming gripping your thigh to get your attention, “look i don't want to be doing this with you, all i want is to spend time out with you outside these four walls,” he says as you gnaw on your lip, considering it, “it would be nice to see you with some clothes on for a change.”

he holds your gaze, his fingers tightening slightly on your thigh as if trying to anchor himself in the midst of the storm of emotions you've stirred. his vulnerability is a stark contrast to the confidence he usually exudes, and it catches you off guard. for a moment, you're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting feelings – his words tugging at something deep within you that you're not quite ready to acknowledge.

but then, you remember the rules you've set for yourself, the boundaries you've fought so hard to maintain. no matter how much he may want to blur those lines, you can't afford to give in.

without giving him a direct answer, you shift slightly, his hand sliding off your thigh as you put some distance between you. your gaze flickers away from him, focusing on some distant point in the room as you compose yourself.

"well, hour's over," you finally say, your tone a touch colder than before. "leave the money where you usually do."

his face falls, the vulnerability replaced by a mixture of disappointment and frustration. he opens his mouth, as if he wants to protest or say something more, but the words seem to die on his lips. the atmosphere between you turns tense once again, the unspoken words and desires hanging heavily in the air.

you don't meet his gaze as you move to gather your things, your actions brisk and efficient. you've mastered the art of detachment, of creating a barrier between yourself and the clients who come and go, no matter how they may affect you.

as you head toward the exit, your heart beats a little faster, a mix of regret and longing that you refuse to entertain. this is how it has to be – business, no matter how much your heart might argue otherwise.

behind you, you hear him sigh, a sound heavy with frustration and resignation. the door clicks shut behind you, the echo of the room's tension lingering in the silence.

he never returned after that. days turned into weeks, and still, geto's presence remained absent from the club. while you hadn't expected him to return, a small part of you had held onto a glimmer of hope that he might. but the weeks turned into months, and the emptiness left by his absence lingered.

life settled back into its routine – the dimly lit stage, the rhythmic music, you danced, you entertained, you put on a show. yet, there was an ache within you, a void that refused to be filled.

as time went on, you found yourself replaying memories of his presence in your mind – the teasing glint in his eyes, the genuine concern in his voice, the way his smile could light up a room. the connection you had shared, brief as it was, had left an indelible mark on your heart.

you missed the daily banter, the way he would surprise you with his insights, the simple pleasure of knowing he was there. the club felt different now, as if it had lost a part of its vibrancy. the nights were quieter, the laughter more subdued, and the glamour that once surrounded your performances felt somewhat dimmed.

despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the longing that had settled within you. you had a taste of something more with him, a glimpse of a world beyond the club's confines. and now, as you danced under the neon lights, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever find that connection again.

the longing in your heart grew with each passing day, a constant reminder of what had been and what might have been. yet, even as you missed him, you were grateful for the moments you had shared – moments that had shown you a different side of life, a side you had almost forgotten was possible.

as you stepped into the club again to start your shift, an unsettling feeling settled in your stomach. the club, which was typically alive with the pulsating beat of music and the murmurs of patrons, was eerily quiet. it was as if the very essence of the place had been stripped away, leaving behind an empty void.

confusion crept into your mind as you glanced around, searching for any sign of movement or life. your footsteps echoed in the emptiness, the sound feeling unusually loud against the backdrop of silence. what was going on? had something happened that you weren't aware of?

just as you were about to turn and leave, the sense of unease growing stronger, your eyes land on a figure sitting on the main stage. your heart skipps a beat, a mix of surprise and a rush of emotions flooding over you. it was him – geto. he was here, his presence filling the void that had gripped the club.

he sat there, as if he belonged on that stage, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense as he watches you. the familiar, cocky smirk was ever present on his lips, and despite the confusion that clouds your mind, a warmth spreads through your chest at the sight of him.

as you draw closer, his smirk softens into a genuine smile, a glimmer of something unspoken in his eyes. the air was thick with tension, a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty hanging between you. your heart races in your chest, the space between you charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

"suguru," you finally breathe his name, your voice a mere whisper in the stillness.

he stands, his movements fluid and confident, as he closes the distance between you. "hey," he greets, his voice carrying a warmth that echoed through the empty club.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, your voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

“let’s just say there’s new management here”

“you bought the club.” you interrogate, “why?”

“i don’t know, im a guy with a lot of money, so i bought a business.” he shrugs blatantly lying, “that’s what guys like me do…”

"you missed me," you conclude, with a grin.

he nods, "I guess I missed you...or whatever," his facade drops immediately. "it's just after you rejected me, i was pissed. all i wanted to do was to show you that i actually cared about you, for you to give me a chance.”

“and buying the club was the most logical way for you to show me that you care?” you argue. “you didn’t have to do that,” emotions swirled within you – a mixture of surprise, hope, and a spark of something you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time. before you could respond, he took a step closer, his fingers gently brushing against yours. it was a simple touch, but it held a promise, a connection that went beyond words.

"why do you always have to be so difficult?” he questions fiercely, “why can’t you just let me show you that i do care about you?”

the weight of his words hung in the air, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw the vulnerability, the sincerity that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. “why do you care?” you retort, almost childishly. you knew that he cared, you knew why he cared – you just had an affinity for making things difficult.

he rolls his eyes at your hard front “if it was anybody else, he would’ve given up a long time ago. but for some reason you were worth it. “because i see you for more than just the standoffish dancer who doesn’t let anyone get to her, im sure you know this by now.” he pulls you closer to him, into a strong hold. “now will you stop fronting and let me have you – all of you?”

you nod with mock reluctance, practically melting in his arms, “but what about my job? I’m not gonna stop being a stripper just because of you.”

“and i wouldn’t even ask you too,” he says quick with reassurance, “besides i find it hot that everyone gets to see you this way but they just can’t have you like i do.” he starts to work your top off your body, unhooking your bra, exposing your tits, “like just imagine, a crowd full of people watching me fuck the shit out of you — wanting you so badly, but not getting to touch.”

“we can’t do this here,” you gasp out as his fingers start to toy with your hard nipples, pinching and twisting them.

“why not?” he smirks, “you’re the boss aren’t you?”

“me, but i thought you bought the club.”

“you’re the one who said if i bought it you’d know that im truly obsessed with you,” he reasons, his lips pressing a kiss under your ear as he whispers, “do you get the picture now?”

“like I said you really d-didn’t have to do that,” you say, “i was the one that fucked things up here. you didn’t have to buy a whole business for get me to tell you that i like you.”

“oh so you do like me,” he comments sarcastically, “who would’ve thought.”

“shut up,” you grumble, swatting at his chest as he laughs, “i am sorry though. i don’t know why i pulled you into my little game, i knew i liked you a long time ago — but I just couldn't bring myself to admitting it. and I'm sorry for that .”

“it’s fine,” he reassures, “i knew dealing with you would be a challenge — granted i didn’t think it would be this hard — but i knew in the end it would be worth it.” his hands lower down your body, shimmying your pants off of you, “so now you gonna show me how sorry you truly are?”

AN: um so this was A LOT my longest fic ever, please lemme know what you thought since I am SOOOO UNSURE ABOU THIS ONE. thank you to my baessss @kazushawty @satoruhour for beta reading (I owe you two my life) also ur boss was pissed asf to find out that the club he owned was bought and given to you when he was the one that basically got you and geto together in the first place. ill make a part two where gojo comes back to the club to see the pretty little stripper who's got all of his besties attention looool jk

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto angst #jjk angst #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen angst #geto x you #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x you

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evielmostdefinitely · 6 months

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Just read Cold Tonight! It was AMAZING pls do a (kinda) part 2 about the time she yelled @ him at the university? I know it was only a small part but I would love a fic about it! Thanks! Your an amazing writer

jealous girl |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: your jealousy leads to you causing a scene at university. coriolanus has to correct you. a/n thank you!! i'm so glad you enjoyed cold tonight and hope you enjoy this!

contains: smut 18+. dom/sub themes (consensual). dark, possessive but in love snow. jealous!reader. manhandling. degrading-ish??? spanking with implements (cane).

Coriolanus knew the flush of his cheeks matched the red of his uniform, that familiar burn searing through his veins. Embarrassment? Fury? He wasn’t entirely sure.

“Can you wait for a moment?” Corio tried to keep his tone light, tracking you without running. It was embarrassing enough, your little tantrum. Storming out of the library in a fit, huffing and puffing petulantly down the stairs. Coriolanus was mortified, biting his tongue to keep it from lashing at you in public, causing an even bigger scene.

“Darling, please,” Corio hissed, chin ducking, avoiding the wandering gazes of passersby. “Please calm down and act rationally.”

“Rationally?” You halted, whipping around with a look so dangerous and threatening, it made him flinch. “You want me to respond rationally to that?” You threw your hand out, a woman possessed, blinded by fury. All education, etiquette casted outward at the glimpse of him in the library. Clemesia’s hand on his arm, leaning in flirtatiously.

“Lower your tone.” Coriolanus hissed, eyes cutting around him. Peers and instructors glancing over at the two of them. Snow and Duke, the couple that already had enough eyes watching, now with even more, putting on a show.

“I told you it wasn’t like that-”

“-Oh, save me the lies, Coriolanus.” You huff, waving your hand dramatically. He flinched at the use of his full name. You never called him that, not unless you were truly furious. “She was all over you.”

“We’re study partners, sweetheart.” Corio gritted, pulling you closer to him, hand squeezing your bicep in warning. “We were just studying.”

“Oh? Then you’ve studied with me in a very similar manner, haven’t you?” You sneered, eyes narrowing in challenge.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure if he could flush any deeper red, burning even more with embarrassment at the alluded comment to your sex life. The girls passing giggled, covering their mouths with their hands, eyes cutting back at the two of you.

“How dare you.” Corio snapped, pulling you roughly into him. He continued his steps towards the door, his hand holding you close even as you struggled. “Can you try and have a little decorum? Some manners? Or have you lost your mind entirely?”

“Have I lost my mind?” You gaped, digging your heels and coming to a complete stop, yanking his grip off your arm. Coriolanus cringed, the few bystanders turning. “You’re asking me if I’ve lost my mind? Have you lost yours?”

Coriolanus hissed your name under his breath, reaching back for you. You smacked his hand away. “Let's go.” He hissed. “You’re causing a scene. You’re embarrassing me.”

“Embarrassing you? I’ll show you embarrassing, Coriolanus Snow, because you have embarrassed me!” Your voice rang through the tall ceiling, bouncing off the marbled floors. The building seemed to settle into complete silence, and Corio thought he might pass out from pure embarrassment.

Your eyes were wild, furious, chest heaving with rage. Corio knew the Peacekeepers outside wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you, not without your father having each of them tortured. Still, Coriolanus grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the building, head tucked in shame at the snickering laughter that floated out after him.

***

“You embarrassed me-”

“-I embarrassed you? You embarrassed me, you bastard!” You roared over him, pacing in the small living room of your penthouse.

“I told you we are just study partners!” Coriolanus roared back, teeth bared in a nearly animalistic way. The embarrassment had fizzled into fury.

“Oh, it really looked like study partners.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “She was all over you! What if I did that, hm?”

“Stop it.” Corio growled.

“What if I went out with my ‘study partner’ and let him touch all over me, or touched all over him? What would you think then?” You sneered, challengingly. “It would be alright, right? Because we’re just study partners, so he can touch me anyway he wants-”

Coriolanus felt it coming, the snap. His composure busting, nerves fried, and sanity on the brink of dissolve. His hands found your shoulders, pinning you roughly against the couch, hovering over top of you with a wild-eyed glare that had you gasping in surprise.

“If you ever let another man touch you, I would cut his fucking hands off on the steps of the Capitol Building for everyone to see.” Corio hissed, eyes dark, teeth gritted.

You gaped, heart hammering in surprise, maybe fear. “And don’t you ever accuse me of looking at someone else, do you hear me? Don’t you dare speak so lowly of me. Disrespect me in that way. Insulting me, thinking I’d ever give a damn about Clemensia.” Corio spat, face twisting in a soured expression.

You shuddered, your own eyes wide watching him, still under his pinned grip. “I have and only will love you. My heart belongs to you, my soul belongs to you. You have every piece of me, and you dare insinuate I would give a part of me to someone else? There’s nothing left to give even if I wanted to. You have it all.”

Your lip wobbled, tears brimming your vision at the passion of his words. Your own anger and frustration dwindling, squirming under the bruising grip of his fingertips in your shoulders. “And to ever think I would entertain the thought of someone else.” Coriolanus' nose snarled in disgust. “To cause a scene like that? Embarrass me and yourself over your own blind jealousy? Over your own insecurities? Throwing a fit like a child.”

Your lip wobbled, cheeks flushing furiously with embarrassment at your actions, suddenly very aware of how public they were.

“I won’t stand for it.” Coriolanus shook his head firmly.

“Corio,” You whisper, words strangled in your throat, nose burning with tears of embarrassment. “I-I just-”

“-Don’t you dare try to excuse your actions.” Corio snapped fiercely, but his grip loosened. “You embarrassed me.”

Your eyes casted downwards, looking at the rose pinned to his shirt. You couldn’t meet his eyes, not when they chastised you, made you feel so small.

“I should take you back there. Punish you in front of everyone so they know I’m not weak.” Coriolanus sneered. “So they know that I don’t allow my girl to act in such an ill mannered way. So hysterical and crazed, you should be ashamed.”

Your lip wobbled, swallowing the thick tears building in your throat. “I’m sorry, Corio. I just-I thought you-”

“-You should know better.” Coriolanus shook his head, releasing you from his grip, sitting back so he hovered over you. “I’ve taught you better than this. I know I have.”

Your spine tingled with an icy chill, the lingering threat in his tone, lips set in a displeased snarl. “I thought you were finally learning. Finally better. Clearly, you still need to learn.”

“No,” It sounded far too whiny for your own liking, further proving Corio’s point. “Corio, I’ve learned, I swear. I just- I just lost my temper when I saw her touching you-”

“-I’ve had enough of the excuses.” Coriolanus snapped, hand wrapping back around your bicep, pulling you into the small study. It was your apartment, but the study was Corio’s. You had it converted for when he stayed over and needed to do school work for University.

It also harbored all his favorite torturous toys for your thrilling sex life.

Corio pulled you over the mahogany desk, flipping your skirt up like a naughty school girl. His cock throbbed at the sight, your bottom raised and presented for him. He knew you’d be upset, already sniffling and pouty, which is exactly why he pulled out the cane.

“I want you to remember this lesson,” Corio’s voice was commanding, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up before he stood behind you. You gasped, writing away when he tapped the cane gently against the skin of your ass, one hand anchoring your back into place.

“The next time you think of behaving so inappropriately.” Corio looked at you through the mirror, holding your gaze. “The next time you forget your place in my life.” The cane cut through the air with a ominous swish, landing on cheeks, etching a thin line over the two globes.

The caning Coriolanus gave you was brief but brutal. Ten strokes, raised onto your skin, leaving you sniffling and sobbing over the desk, a pool of tears pathetically beneath your chin. Corio spent the night babying you, after rutting into you, grunts and whispers of his own affections pressed into your tear soaked cheeks.

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midascrow · 2 months

Text

Lucifer x GN!Reader

A Fan of the Devil?

———————//————

synopsis: Charlie’s father is introduced to the hotels “Gardener”, and comes to find out that they’re a fallen soul from above. He’s also surprised to learn that they’re a fan of his.

warnings: religious pressure(?)

an: Part 1? If this is well received ofc. This is told from Lucifer’s perspective and therefore his view and inner thoughts regarding what’s going on around him. I also threw in the idea that he’s bad with names cuz that feels very accurate to me lol

—————————————————————-

He hadn’t expected his daughter’s friends to be so….eccentric, upon meeting them. Of course he knew Charlie’s heart bled gold for any sinner around, but he thought-, more so he hoped that she would keep somewhat better company.

Especially in the revelation of this “RaDiO DEmOn”.

Baggie- Mag- Vaggie, was alright he supposed. She loves his daughter, perhaps just as much as he does,that much he was sure. And while he was a bit disheartened by having not known of their relationship prior, he was still content and moved by the way the two leaned towards each others embrace as they spoke.

His heart ached. Just a bit.

“Are they up in their room again?”

“I think they’re in the Garden again, hon.”

Garden? The hotel had a garden?

“Oh! Oh maybe we could-“

“I don’t know…you know how they can be about us going in there..”

“Pshhhh! I’m sure it’ll be fine Vaggie! Plus remember how they always talked about meeting him??”

Meeting who? Who’s meeting who??

Was there some kind of owl in here?

“Dad!”

“Ah!”

Charlie blinked down at her father in an awkward beam, watching his red eyes dart around nervously, for a moment or two. “Who?!-“ His throat dried and swelled in embarrassment, cracking his voice as he fixed his pride with a dust off his hat. “Uhm…Yes? Char?” Nailed it. Totally. Very cool and suave of you big boss.

His daughter smiled, a crease in her brow before she clasped his arm and tugged him forward, away from the peering eyes of the others and down a long corridor. “There’s someone- Well-there’s someone who’s been dying to meet you! Yknow ever since they arrived here it’s just be non stop-“

Someone wanted to meet him? Why??

Surely they were a weirdo.

His grimace must’ve given him away, because Vaggie, who he hadnt noticed following them till the moment of, gave a small hum, to cut through her girlfriends words.

“They were a bit of a fanatic on earth apparently.”

He dead panned.

“A cultist.”

“No.”

“A satanist?”

“That’s not even what satanists do!”

“…..”

“….A banker-“

“Just-!….Wait and you’ll see.”

He fell silent at that, a frown pulled onto his pale lips as his feet dragged him towards wherever they were headed.

He was a bit stumped when they came upon two large doors, both decorated in shimmering glass mozaics, depicting two dividing scenes. An Angel; hands carefully cupped around a beautifully red apple, kneeled down towards the other mural, was depicted on the right. And on the Left, in the same position, with the same red apple, a demon.

He shifted uncomfortably.

“Wow Honey! I uh- Didn’t know this door even existed! It’s very cool, yes yes very cool- now let’s head back to the-!” He called nervously, a half witted laugh leaving his sharp tooth smile as Charlie nodded vigorously, shiney eyes aglow as she took hold of the golden handles of the ornate doors, pulling them open with a mighty huff as a golden light spilled from inside.

It was startling to say the least, fact proven by how Lucifer felt his wings practically shoot from his back in defense, feathers cascading down in time with the petals and leaves that followed an imaginary breeze through the threshold.

His ears strained to hear the quiet sound of rushing water and leaves shaking, birds chirping and insects buzzing quietly somewhere in the back.

His skin warmed. Not in the way it naturally did from hells weather, but as if the sun was beaming down on his skin for the first time in eons. Of course, he knew it was fake. But it was so close.

“Oh- shit! Charlie!” A voice barked beyond the golden glow of the garden, a figure stepping out from the shadows of a large bush, covered in leaves and flowers as they stumbled clumsily through, racing towards the door and slamming it shut, completely ignorant to the king beside their hip, who’s gaze pierced them in silent wonder.

He hadn’t felt that in a while.

“What did I tell you about coming in unannounced! You could throw off the entire ecosystem! The slightest temperature shift might make one of the flowers wilt or one of the fruits shrivel! At least warn me before-“

“Ahem.”

The sinner paused, shoulders jumping stiffly as they froze, finger pointed towards Charlie rudely from their rant before their gaze shifted to the side.

He heard the way their breath hitched, and his chest puffed slightly in pride, wings fluttering just slightly.

“Hello there.” He was being cheeky, he knew that, though his smile felt a tad too genuine, caused by the sheer awe that glimmered across the sinners face at the sight of him. “Lucifer Morningstar, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet.”

He couldn’t find it in himself to dislike that look. He was the avatar of pride after all.

And a small part of him took a rather large enjoyment in the stuttering and stumbling of the sinner before him.

“Y-Your highness! Oh my gosh-“ He grinned “I wasn’t expecting your company- I would’ve dressed more- well I-“ Vaggie coughed from the side, redirecting their attention as they picked the stray foliage form their hair and clothes in a frenzy, towards the garden around them.

With a startled gasp they quickly stepped to the side, nearly tumbling in their haste as they held their arm out, presenting the garden to the king. “It’s..it’s an honor to meet you Sir.” Your voice was steadier, but still thick with anxiety that stuck like molasses to your tongue.

He watched your hand tremble, just slightly. Like his.

His wings fluttered again. A warm feeling bursting through his chest and into his eyes, giving them that shine that reflected the faux golden glow of the sun in the large green room. “The pleasures all mine, My dear. Do you mind explaining what it is you have-.…here”

His smile faltered, gaze stuck on the tree that stood tall and proud in the center of the spacious garden. Its leaves and branches stretched far, each adorned by beautiful red..apples, that hung and shimmered in the light. He expected the familiar ache of guilt to swarm his heart, but was surprised when he found himself breathless instead.

“I hope it’s..somewhat accurate. I’ve only seen recreations of course, never the real thing..” Your voice was a bit muffled in his mind.

He felt you step cautiously beside him, as he continued to gaze reverently at the scene before him. Shadows and memories danced past his eyes and through the patches of sun that decorated the floor. He swore he could hear quiet calls and whispers mix with the rustling leaves.

“You made this?” It wasn’t really a question.

Plants weren’t common in hell. Especially none such as this. They simply couldn’t grow in the rotted soil that spread across his kingdom. And there was simply no pure water to be found that could sustain them. So how-

“I might’ve take a few things before I fell.” You laughed shyly, cheeks warmed under the sun and the intense gaze of the King that snapped towards you.

Lucifer finally got a proper look at you. At your eyes and your features. Your afflictions. There was no denying you were a human soul. It was clear as day and still beat deep in your being. But..

“You were in heaven?” He gasped, eyes wide, mouth agape as he turned fully towards you, the grip on his cane tight as he scanned over the few demonic markings that lined your body, and the big golden X that flashed across your entire being. For only his eyes to see.

A virtuous soul cast out? Was that even possible? To turn away a true, virtuous soul, one of the few who had made it into heavens gate from their life on earth-

“It’s safe to say I didn’t truly agree with heavens teachings. It was too…polished.” There was an easy going smile that matched your tone, as you let your eyes wander towards the tree that wisely outshined every other plant in the garden. You continued.

“Heaven wasn’t my first choice. Frankly I didnt believe in it to begin with. But my folks were..somewhat of zealots. They wanted the best for me, I know that. But I missed…” You paused, seemingly thoughtful as Lucifer watched you with rapt attention, you both becoming ignorant to the two lovers that slipped out.

Charlie smiled softly to herself. Her dad needed this.

“I missed the free will that their religion took away from me.” Your gaze was knowing, almost wise like the tree when it peered back into his own, and Lucifer swore he felt something crack. Something lift from his shoulders and pulled his wings away, letting them spread proudly, in a way he hadn’t felt or experienced in years. Possibly ever.

“You know….I always enjoyed the story of you they told on earth.” Lucifer grimaced again, the vision of you dimming for a moment as he glanced away.

“Is that so? I’m sure they’re singing my praises.” It was a dry laugh, his hands gesturing in a faux confidence, but his lips quirked when he heard your muffled one.

“No, many aren’t. Most seem to align themselves with Heavens view…” You hummed thoughtfully and stepped forwards into the soft grass that peaked through the cracks of brimstone. Lucifer followed, instinctively. He felt leashed by your presence, though not necessarily in a bad way.

“Though there are plenty, who think a little more like me. There’s many versions of your story. I always knew that the original couldn’t be the full story. Too..one sided. Time on earth taught me that there was always a second side. Someone’s else thoughts-, perspective. Falling only confirmed that.”

You words tangled with your fingers that fluttered across the branches of a close bush, caressing a small flower that curled into your touch. “The first thing I did was look for the story. Of the garden. I wanted to replicate it, though admittedly there was never much detail to go off!”

You laughed again and the sound was quickly becoming a favorite of his. It was gentle..understanding. It almost hurt.

“And when I read the story..it was different. More romantic for sure.” You flushed softly, cheeks warm again as you recalled the way the story of Lucifer and Lilith warmed your soul. “But..more honest. Heart breaking even. I couldn’t believe how horrible it was must’ve been…and never knowing how amazing your gift was..” you turned to him again, your gaze so earnest and true that it made him step back.

Lucifer couldn’t deny the warmth in his own cheeks. You were pretty..pretty? That felt mundane. You practically glowed in the garden. And while it wasn’t a perfect representation of what Eden had been, it was better.

Eden had always been..one dimensional. It lacked the depth and feeling that Lucifer had hoped to give humanity. It was gorgeous, there was no denying that. But it wasn’t real.

This…This, is what he had hoped for the garden to be. Alive. Truly alive.

And…you brought it life…because of him? It didn’t feel right in a way. Having spent so many years locked away by himself and mourning the sin and ruin he had created from his own selfish wish.

Selfish? Had it been selfish? At the time, when he had done it, it didn’t feel selfish. He wanted humanity to live. To be alive! Truly, and honestly alive.

And you were so Alive. You were dead here in hell and yet you were breathing life into this gorgeous scene because you chose to. You chose to fall too. You chose to be in hell.

Because of him? Because of his…gift?

It was ironic almost. Laughable even.

Your lips pursed, a worried sweat on your brow as you lost that roaring confidence that bled into your words prior. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to preach or anything-“ He stopped you.

“So-.…you’re a fan?” His lips screwed into a wobbly smile, embarrassment creeping up his neck at his less then poetic comment, though the laugh you graced him with almost made the shame worth it.

“You could say that. I personally think I hold the title of number one fan, but you know beggars can’t be choosers I suppose.” You gestured animatedly, a small smirk on your lips as you professed your..favor towards the king, and he gleamed.

“Well!” His hands flew to his suit, straightening it out and letting his chest puff out from its slumped frame. “May I know the name of my, alleged, number one fan?” His words were coy, smug as he gestured to you with a flourish that he had shown to the other residents. (Of course till you had so rudely stunned him to silence)

The smile you gifted him was holy.

“(Y/N)…Your highness.” Your bow was playful, a little awkward and strained, but it made him laugh.

“(Y/n), hm? I’ll be sure to remember that.” His throat cleared briefly, “I…hope you wouldn’t mind me stopping by sometime again soon..I’d like to hear a bit more about your garden.” He liked the way you looked at him in this moment. Disbelieving but so hopeful. Like he was something, someone to gaze at in such a way.

“I’d be honored.”

Maybe you had a fan of your own now, as well.

———————☆

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #x reader #x gn reader #charlie morningstar

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veetri-bitcrush · 1 year

Text

Alright! Let's actually talk about this waterfall thing. It is an amazing showcase of many things that I adore from late 90s graphics. I am replicating this in Blender, through mere observation of the final game, so some things might not be exactly accurate to what the PS1 does.

First off, this is what I started off with, straight from the Noesis exporter into Blender.

"Looks boring!" "What are those weird gradient quads?!" Oh we'll talk about those too, don't worry.

Let's start simple, figuring out the Layers.

We've got the base level geometry, then two layers of water, each with a different texture.

Let's focus on the bottom Water layer first. A waterfall's water falls, and the age old trick to replicate that behaviour is to scroll the texture along the mesh by offsetting the texture coordinates every frame.

Simple enough. Not too convincing yet.

Let's do the same with the other layer.

Look at it goooo!

An often-used trick to enhance the waterfall effect is to increase the distance between vertices (or squash texture coordinates) as the geometry goes down.

This affects the scrolling velocity for the texture in each section, making it look like gravity is accelerating the water.

MGS pulls yet another trick on top of that:

Vertices are subtly animated to oscillate, making the water flow seem more irregular.

It seems to be something similar to what is done to geometry when the camera goes underwater in the docks or vents area.

One opaque layer of water on top of another is no good.

Alpha Blending is an expensive technique and it'd not give the desired effect.

Additive Blending is used instead. The lower layer is rendered first, the second layer is then rendered on top, adding the color values together.

Now we get to talk about those weird quads.

They are darkening gradients! Instead of using Additive Blending, they do the opposite, the color value from the texture is subtracted from the scene that was rendered below, effectively creating shadowed areas.

Who needs HBAO+ anyway?

Lighting pass!

I just threw a few point lights to try and replicate the original vibes of the scene.

MGS, instead, uses lighting information baked into the vertices of the scene to create this mood. And what a mood it is!

Here's an additional example of the same techniques used in the bottom part of the same scene. Although the game seems to be rendering that water mesh as (almost?) completely opaque, there is an actual floor mesh under it.

There, I fixed this post. If you enjoy my posts, shit or not, consider supporting me on Ko-fi, I will appreciate it a lot 💞: https://ko-fi.com/parametricpalta

#ps1 #playstation #metal gear solid #retro graphics #retro #vfx #blender #mgs #breakdown #waterfall #rex's lair #noesis #ripped #low poly #I fixed it!

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vivwritesfics · 4 months

Note

🫶🫶🫶

Hi hello

Nnta. Non cannon

Pretty little wife and carlos marriage is just for convenience

One day carlos either gets sent a video or gets tied down in a chair

He has to now watch his pretty little wife getting fucked by both oscar and max 👹🫶

Them both raking turns to fuck her but whilst the other is fucking her, the other is taking her mouth 👹

🫶🫶🫶

Anything for you, my love 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

Warnings: Threesome, spitroasting mentioned, voyeurism, nipple sucking, masturbation, blow job, cum swallowing, use of good girl, cumming inside

Series Masterlist

Y/N and Oscar had been fucking since before she married Carlos. He knew all about it, he just didn't care. It was a marriage of convenience and she could do what she liked, as long as it didn't embarrass him.

This, though, this was definitely going to embarrass him.

Carlos sat at his desk, his cock free as he watched the video sent by Oscar.

Carlos hadn't seem Y/N in some time. He'd filled his days with whores and whoever threw themselves at him while Y/N was in the Netherlands with the Verstappens, spending some time with her friend Max.

It seemed Max was a lot closer than Carlos realised. He pumped his fist up and down his cock as he looked at the image of his pretty little wife being spitroasted by Oscar and Max. He hasn't even pressed play on the video yet, and already he was panting as he touched himself.

His shaky finger pressed play on the button.

The video started from the beginning, of Y/N in her underwear as Oscar kissed her shoulder, unclaimed her bra, and Max moved away from the camera.

Oscar pulled it down her arms and pulled her into his arms. He continued to kiss her as Max got behind them, just in the way of the camera as he slipped his hand into her underwear and squeezed her ass cheeks.

What Carlos couldn't see from the video was the silent conversation of dominance Max and Oscar were having. Oscar was adamant that he should hold all of the power, and Max was somewhat reluctant to give it over.

But he did and Oscar pulled her away from Max. He laid her down onto the bed and hovered his body over hers, attaching his lips to her nipple as one hand travelled down her to underwear.

His fingers slipped beneath the fabric and she whined and moaned against him. Max was visible to the side of him, fisting his cock to the scene of her wriggling about on the bed.

Oscar touched her. He ran his fingers through her folds, but his touch was light. Y/N moaned, throwing her head back as he touched her in the way he knew she liked, drawing figures of eight on her clit, getting her wetter and wetter.

When she was ready, Oscar inserted one finger inside of her. He looked up at her as he slowly thrusted his finger in and out of her, watching as she called Max closer.

Max let go of himself and walked closer. When she touched him, he threw his head back, allowing her to put her lips around his cock. She sucked, slowly at first, but speeding up when Oscar worked her faster.

Suddenly he released her nipple from between her lips. He pulled his fingers away and sat up, pulling Y/N up with him.

Somehow Oscar positioned her perfectly in front of the camera. She was on her hands and knees, Oscar behind her and Max in front of her.

Max pushed forward first, pushing his cock between her lips. She held him there, moaning around his length as Oscar pushed into her.

They moved slowly at first, Oscar controlling the pace. Max was still and Oscar was holding her hips, pushing her forward onto Max's cock and pulling her back onto his own. "Fuck," Max growled as she hollowed her cheeks.

They were a mess of sweaty bodies and moans. Oscar's grip was sure to leave bruising on her skin as he pulled her back into him, spearing her with his cock. He threw his head back, letting out grunts groans and moans as he went.

Y/N allowed herself to be pulled around on their dicks. She moaned around Max's dick, shutting her eyes when he placed his hand on her head, lacing his fingers through her hair.

"Fuck, holy fuck!" He cried, his eyes squeezed shut.

Max was the first to cum. He held her there, keeping her mouth around him as he came. "That's it, swallow," he said as she looked into his eyes.

Y/N pulled off of him, her mouth full of cum. She swallowed and stuck out her tongue, proving to him that it was all gone.

As soon as she was finished, Oscar started thrusting again, his hips snapping against her ass. He reached around, touching her clit, bringing her closer to the edge.

She was squeezing him, clenching around him. It was almost sending Oscar over, but he refused to cum before she did.

He was slowing down, but he held on. Y/N finally came, letting out a cry as she tensed up and fell forward on the bed.

As soon as she came around him, Oscar let go. He let his seed flood her wall, fill her before he slumped forward against her.

Recovering quickly, Oscar pulled out of her. He turned her towards the camera and pulled her folds apart revealing the mess he had made inside of her. "Say hello to your husband," he said, helping Y/N to her feet.

On shaky legs, she walked over to the camera and waved. "Hi Carlos," she said and blew him a kiss.

The video ended after that and Carlos let out a pant. He'd made a mess on his pants, but he didn't care.

Holy fuck.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @hiireadstuff @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @chonkybonky @shobaes @celesteblack08 @watermelonworries @gracielukey @cassie0sstuff @goldenharrysworld @venusesworld @sparklyperfectionstranger @evans-dejong @graciewrote @formulaal

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tightjeansjavi · 5 months

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⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆ Tinsel ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

A/N: all I gotta say is..WHEN IS IT MY TURN DAMMIT 🥲

joel deserves nice things™ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

~word count: 4.9k~

pairing | boyfriend! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery, but your Texas hunk of a boyfriend makes sure that this holiday season you feel loved.

Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mommy issues for the reader, typical holiday angst, readers mother is a bitch, mentions of smoking and consuming alcohol, unprotected piv, dom/sub vibes, fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, cock warming, light ass slapping, unconditional love, Sarah and Ellie exist in this universe (Ellie is adopted) best friend! Tommy, close family vibes, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, Tommy is like a big brother to the reader, reader has no physical descriptions, there is one scene where Joel picks the reader up, no age gap, Christmas traditions, +18, minors dni! Please let me know if I missed anything!

“Hey, babe?” You chimed from the living room. Both hands on your hips as you peered up at your beautifully decorated Christmas tree. “Do you think the tree could use some more tinsel?”

Your boyfriend, Joel Miller was in the kitchen with Sarah and Tommy who were on cookie duty, while Joel was crafting together the best goddamn gingerbread house your mother would ever see in her lifetime. (You hoped)

“Here she goes again with the tinsel.” Sarah giggled, gently nudging her uncle with her elbow.

Joel gave his daughter a playful warning glare before picking up a dusting of flour between his fingers and threw it at her with a grin. “Be nice, baby girl. Y’know how her mom is with this stuff. Everythin’ has gotta be perfect.”

“I’ll be there in just a sec, honey!” He called back, brushing his flour coated hands on his apron and retreated from the kitchen while Tommy and Sarah snickered.

“I still think we should add more tinsel, Joel. Maybe more ornaments? If she sees a single bald spot on the tree—” you’re caught off guard from bare, broad arms wrapping around your waist from behind. His aquiline nose brushes the exposed bit of skin along your neckline. He inhales deeply, smelling of cinnamon, clove, and ginger with a hint of Joel.

“Baby,” he rasps warm and deep, lips pressing to your warmed skin with affectionate sweetness. “The tree is gorgeous. I don’t see any bald spots.” A gentle squeeze to your hips, followed by another peck.

“But—” your voice falls short.

You melt back into his arms the way that marshmallows do in steaming hot chocolate. Pliant in his hold, suppressing a giggle when the scratchy bits of his patchy beard gently scrape your skin.

“But nothin’, baby. How about you help frost the cookies, hm? Get your mind off this damn tinsel.” You feel his lips curve into a smile along your skin. His chuckle vibrates up his chest and through your sweater covered spine. His hands drop from your hips, settling against the curve of your back, fingertips slipping into the denim pockets.

Cheeky.

A grumbled sigh from your lips, agreement, for the time being. The topic of tinsel would be brought up again. Your hand floated upwards towards his face, fingertips ghosting the patchy spots that you loved to press hidden kisses to. A finger hooks around his jaw, pulling him downwards to meet you in a kiss.

He obliges to your silent request. His nose brushes yours eliciting a sweet giggle to pass through your parted lips. The sounds of Santa Baby drowns out in the background. White noise compared to the steady thumping of yours and Joel’s synchronized hearts.

“I’ll be bringing up the tinsel again, Joel.” You murmur through the palpable warm tension.

“I know you will, darlin’” he tuts playfully, “But shh. Less talkin’, baby. Kiss me, doll.” He all but demands. The gap between you is closed. He kisses you sweetly, squeezing your flesh below the denim fabric. You swat playfully, melting once more when his tongue swipes your lower lip, testing—

“Ain’t hearin’ much talkin’ goin’ on in there!” Tommy remarks from the opening of the kitchen. Smirk plastered.

It’s Joel’s turn to grumble. A hint of annoyance on his breath. He breaks away from the kiss begrudgingly, but not before he can whisper just for your ears to hear, “we’ll finish this later.” Shortly followed by an encouraging pat to your jean clad ass, and a nudge towards the kitchen.

“These cookies ain’t gonna frost themselves!”

“Relax, brother. We’re coming!” Joel shoots you a wink with a suggestive tilt of his chin in your direction. The simple action alone sends a wave of arousal gushing through the thin fabric of your panties. A jolt, like a bolt of lighting.

4 years of dating your Texas hunk, and the sparks were still flying.

Sarah and Tommy both give you and Joel a cheeky little grin once you appear in the kitchen. An apron is tossed in your direction. Your eyes roll playfully with a shake of your head.

Joel returns to his gingerbread house making when you realizing that there’s one more member missing. “Is Ellie still asleep?” You ask while glancing at the clock along the wall.

“Must be. I’ll go and drag her out of bed.” Joel announced. He untied his apron and laid it flat across the table. He brushed past you on his way out of the kitchen.

Ellie Miller was in fact still dead asleep when he quietly pushed open her bedroom door. “Ohh Jelly Bean.” He cooed, using her least favorite nickname purposely.

A pillow was tossed carelessly in his direction with the intent to hit him, but Joel was ready for it and ducked out of the way. “C’mon, baby girl. It’s half past 10 and we could really use your help downstairs.” Joel said while reaching for the comforter to yank back.

“Can’t the cookies frost themselves? Y’know how I feel about the holidays, Dad.” She grumbled with her face squished into her pillow.

“Mhm. I sure do. Just a buncha commercialized crap around a jolly big ole’ fat man that breaks into people's houses, steals their cookies, and leaves crap under the tree. The only cool part of Santa Claus is his reindeer.” Joel said monotonically.

“You’re forgetting the bit where Rudolph is the coolest because of—”

“His bright shinin’ red nose. See, I remember these things, kiddo. Now, please get on up and help us out. If you don’t wanna frost the cookies, then you can help me finish with the gingerbread houses. Fair deal?” Joel crossed his arms against his chest while he awaited her response.

Ellie let out a long, dramatic sigh before she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll come down and help out.” She grumbled.

“Thank you, grinchy.” He said teasingly while she shot him a playful glare. “There’s coffee downstairs too, if ya want any.”

Her nose turned upwards as she let out a disgusted sound. “Gross. Y’know how I feel about that stuff. It’s nasty. Smells like burnt shit. Don’t know how you drink that crap.” She grimaced.

“Hot chocolate?” He suggested with a warm grin.

“Now we’re talkin.’” She grinned.

Once the cookies were properly frosted, and the two gingerbread houses were fashioned, it was time for a well deserved break. Tommy volunteered to take Sarah and Ellie out sledding and then lunch while Joel stayed back to help you clean the kitchen.

Your boyfriend had his own idea of ‘cleaning’ and taking a break. You had just started the dishes when you felt his warm presence envelop and invade your senses. His strong arms were wrapped around you once more, and the tip of his broad nose was pressed into your neck, curls tickling your cheekbones.

“Have you come to help me with washing duty, baby?” You asked softly when his lips pressed an opened mouth kiss to your exposed skin. You learned very quickly early on in your relationship that Joel Miller was a lover, and a giver. He always needed to be close to you in some way.

“Mhm. I have, honey. But, I was hopin’ I could make you feel good first. I think the dishes can wait. Don’t you?” He nuzzled against you, thumbs slipping through the front pockets of your jeans.

“Joel..” you warned.

“Please, baby. I know the holiday season gets you all wound up. Let me help you relax, and then I will do the dishes and finish cleaning up here. Afterwards, you and I can settle in for a well deserved nap. How’s that sound?”

How did you get so lucky?

“You’re so good to me, baby. I suppose we can—” your words become lodged in your throat when his teeth graze your delicate skin. He nibbles playfully, knowing just how to get his girl going. His fingers toy with the button on your jeans before he pops it open.

“You’re my girl, ain’t ya? I live for makin’ you happy and feelin’ good. I love you very much, darlin.’ And I’ll be damned if this time of the year beats you down again.” He whispers while pulling down the zipper swiftly. His unoccupied hand slips under your sweater where he can feel your stomach clench inwards, the quickness of your breath while he splays his long, rugged fingers across your skin.

(If you ain’t dating a proper cowboy yet, then what the hell are you doin?’)

You allow yourself to indulge and melt into his grasp when his hand slips beneath the confines of your jeans, and below your panties. His broad fingers stroke gently between your folds, gathering up the slickness that has pooled there from this morning’s earlier interaction.

“Talkin’ of tinsel really gotcha goin,’ huh baby? Or was it the way that your handsome boyfriend was talkin’ to ya? Is that what got your pretty little pussy drippin?’” He purrs and your knees nearly buckle. Your Joel has never been shied away from dirty talk, and he knows how much you love it when filth drips from between his perfect lips.

You laugh, and it’s music to his ears whenever you let your guard down around him. Your head falls back ceremoniously against his shoulder, admiring his side profile through fluttered lashes. “It definitely wasn’t the damn tinsel, that’s for sure.”

“Thought so.” He mused with a rumbling deep chuckle. He’s acutely aware of your budding desperation taking the front and center stage when your hips buck upwards into his palm. “Someone’s a bit eager, hm? Want me to stretch this pretty pussy apart with my fingers, baby? S’that what my sweet girl wants?”

“Mhmm.” Is really all you’re able to get out because your mind is swirling, intoxicated with your boyfriend, and his goddamn hands that know how to play you to ruin. A flush rises to your cheeks, skin burning red hot like embers in a fire when his lips ghost the shell of your ear, sending a warm chill down every vertebrae in your spine.

“Can’t hear ya, honeybun. Gonna need ya to speak up for me.” His fingers dip down lower, teasing your tight wet hole that pulses around nothing, feeling empty and neglected thus far. His teeth bite down on your lobe, tugging it down playfully and elicit a desperate little mewl to slip past your lips.

“Fingers, daddy. Now. Please.” Your requests come out scrambled, misconstrued, but audible nonetheless. He seems pleased enough with your response and slowly sinks in two of his thick digits; ring and middle knuckle deep inside of your pulsing cunt. His hand encasing your entire mound while his thumb finds your clit with ease, curling his fingers inwards in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“Fuuck.” You moaned, wanton, depraved, love drunk on your Texas hunk.

His non-dominant hand that was presently resting along your stomach drops down. It takes him all of 5 seconds to tug your jeans down over your ass and thighs, exposing your bare skin to the room temperature air. His hand massages your supple flesh, curving against your spine before pulling back and returning with one firm smack to your left cheek that echoes through the expanse of the kitchen. “‘Atta girl.” He praises you lovingly, massaging the irritated skin before he delivers another smack, harder this time. It’s just enough to send you jolting forward into his hand, crying out his name.

The muscles in his bicep flex under the natural light flooding in through the kitchen windows. His fingers pump in and out, in and out. The mixed sounds of your pleasure, and your cunt squelching around his fingers sends blood flowing southwards to his hardening cock. You feel the press of him against your lower back when you reach around, fingers blindly searching till they find their home against the bulge in his jeans.

He grunts, lower lip taken harshly between his teeth, the speed of his wrist movements increase when you stroke him through the tight confines. You can feel all of him through the fabric, and you’re prideful that his desperately hard cock is just for you.

“Gonna fuck yourself against my fingers, baby? Gonna use me to get yourself off?” He questions hastily, breath shuddering when he finds himself grinding his hips in your hand with a need to satiate the building friction.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, mouth falling open in an ‘o’ shape when his fingers kiss that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. You’re so close, nearly at the edge when his fingers slip out, leaving you abandoned before his bending down and hoisting you over his shoulder like a rag doll.

His steps are calculated and precise carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. He tosses you on the bed in a playful manner, lips finding yours in a chaste kiss while his hands tug your jeans down completely, followed by your panties. “Couldn’t wait any longer to be inside ya, baby” his words fall like whispers against your lips. You reach for his belt, undoing it with that sweet giggle that he loves so much.

He licks into your mouth like a man starved when you finally release him from his confines. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. His lips detach, a string of saliva connecting you to him before he plops down beside you on his back.

“We don’t even need to fuck, honey. Jus’ wanna be inside ya. Take a nap with my cock keepin’ you stuffed full.” He’s vulgar, greedy when he reaches for you. You melt like putty, sticky and sweet, and dripping.

“I love keeping your cock warm, daddy. Almost as much as I love it when you send me to a new dimension.” You murmur, settling against his chest. Your hand reaches down between your bodies, grasping his length and guiding it to your opening. A combined sweet sigh when he eases himself inside of you.

“So fuckin’ perfect for me. Warm, wet, huggin’ me s’tight.” He sounds drunk now too. His grin is lazily, placid when your eyes meet in a loving gaze. His hips shift beneath you, bottoming out, filling, stretching, while you pull him in.

His chin dips down, capturing your lips once more. It’s probably one of his favorite things to do, kissing you. Lips that he believes were made for him. A peck to your nose follows, teeth nibbling, giggles, sweet sounds.

“Joel?” You ask through the domestic calmness that shelters you both.

“Mhmm?” He rumbles, words rolling slowly against his tongue.

“I love you.”

His arms shift to wrap around you, holding you close. Heartbeats entwined. “I love you too, baby doll. And no matter what happens this Christmas, you’re perfect to me. No matter what your mother thinks, or says, you’re perfect.”

“Did you knit these ghastly things yourself?” Your mother criticizes the sweaters you knitted for yourself, Joel, Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah. It was your first big knitting project. A daunting task at first, but the old ladies at the senior center you volunteered at were both charming, and helpful.

“Yes, mother. I knitted them myself.” Her words hurt, but that’s what champagne spritzers are for. You take a hefty sip from your champagne flute.

“Well, the pattern is all wrong, dear.” She drops the sleeve of your sweater with a sigh. “Your home looks lovely, by the way, but your tree could use more tinsel. I noticed five bald spots when I first walked in.” She has no idea how many hours you spent decorating the tree in the living room, the mantles, outside in the front yard. You worked tirelessly with your family, and she still had the audacity to say something negative about it.

You fake a smile, catching a glance from your Texas hunk who is preoccupied in the kitchen with making sure that dinner is absolutely perfect.

“Thank you for the compliment, mother. Can I get you more champagne?” You ask, hoping that you can just take a breather finally.

“Oh, thank you dear, that would be lovely. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, Joe?” She waved her wrist carelessly, bracelets chiming in your ears. Even after four years, your mother still didn’t call your boyfriend by his real name.

“His name is Joel, mother. And he’s in the kitchen with his brother who is helping him with dinner.” You respond flatly.

“Joe. Joel, what’s the difference?” She doesn’t get it. She never does, and never will.

“Mother, it’s rude. He’s my boyfriend of almost five years, and you can’t even bother to remember his name?” You’re on the edge of snapping. It's not fair that your mother thinks that just because her husband divorced her that she gets to make everyone close to her miserable too.

“He’s still your boyfriend? Well, by now I surely would think that you’d be engaged and married. Who in their right mind plays house with a man for almost five years? Dear, have I taught you nothing?”

Tears prick the corner of your eyes from the blow of her words. You and Joel never felt like you needed to get married. It was just a piece of paper, shared finances, social status that neither of you cared for. You loved each other, you loved Sarah and Ellie, and viewed Tommy like a brother. Wasn’t that enough?

“Excuse me, mother, while I go top off your glass.”

She doesn’t see the glassy look in your eyes when you snatch the flute from her. Your footsteps carry you directly to the kitchen. For a brief moment you think about tossing the glass into the sink and letting the crystal shatter, but you opt to set it down on the counter.

Joel and Tommy are watching you closely from a distance. You’re visibly upset, and no fake smile can hide that.

I just need a breather.

The air is chilly, and the sky is clear with twinkling stars. Your tears glisten under the Christmas lights hanging above the front step when you hear the front door open and close. You move quickly to douse out the lit cigarette that is pursed between your painted lips, feeling a twinge of shame from a habit you couldn’t quite break.

“You don’t gotta hide that on my account, sweetheart.” Tommy said softly with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

“I just..needed something to take the edge off.” You know that there’s no reason to explain yourself to him, or anyone for that matter. Tommy’s been your best friend for years, and he was the one that introduced you to Joel in the first place.

“I get it. Family can be real assholes sometimes, huh? It’s like that one scene in National Lampoon’s where the wife says, “it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, and the misery is my mother.” You scoff and offer him your cigarette.

“Ah. What did she have to say this time around?” He asks while taking the cigarette between your fingers and bringing it against his lips.

“What didn’t she have to say?” You stifled a bitter laugh. “Five bald spots on the tree. The sweaters I knitted are ghastly, and she refuses to call Joel by his real name. Oh, and the cherry on top? She thinks I’m naive for ‘playing house with a man who isn’t even my husband.’”

“Bald spots? Where? The sweaters you made us are adorable, and what a bitch. I swear, that woman grows more callous every year. Who cares if you and Joel aren’t married? What’s it any of her business to do in your private life? You’re happy, aren’t you? She’s jus’ bein’ bitter cus’ you got a man that loves you unconditionally, and her husband left her.” Tommy finishes off what is left of the cigarette before he douses it out with the toe of his boot.

More tears begin to freely fall when you begin to fold in on yourself. “I love that man so fucking much, Tommy. He makes me so unbelievably happy and I just wish she could support me. To be my mother for once in her goddamn life and not this jealous..entity.” You sniffled.

“Oh, honey, it’s Christmas time and tears are not allowed!” Tommy attempted to joke, but when he saw just how upset you were, he switched gears and wrapped you up in his arms. “She’ll never understand, unfortunately. But that’s her loss. She could be real happy for you, and Joel, if she wanted to. But jealous people miss out on those happy moments I’m afraid. She refuses to be happy, and that ain’t have anythin’ to do with you, sweet pea.” He reassured you.

What Tommy really wanted to tell you, but couldn’t say, was that soon enough he’d be your brother in law, and your Texas hunk was going to ask you to marry him, to be his wife, at the stroke of midnight tonight when all the guests would retire home.

“You’re right, Tommy. You’re absolutely right. She’s choosing to be unhappy for me. That’s her choice, not mine. And you know what? Fuck her. She doesn’t get to hold this over me. I’m happy, and I refuse to let her ruin that for me.” You hug him back tightly.

“‘Atta girl. Now, let’s get back inside before my brother starts worryin’ more than he already has. I’ll entertain your mother so that you can have a break. How’s that sound?”

“Really? You’ll do that for me? Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. I’ll get her all liquored up.” He jokes with a playful wink.

Your lips peck his cheek in a non-romantic gesture. Tommy has always been your rock.

Dinner surprisingly runs smoothly, and you no longer have to deal with your mother because Tommy is talking up a storm with her, and she actually..smiles? Maybe it was just the champs.

Your Texas hunk is seated beside you with his hand resting along your thigh underneath the table. His thumb is rubbing reassuring circles against the silky fabric of your tights. He checks in with you between bites, silent glances, softened eyes. God, you loved this man.

Ellie, Sarah, and Joel helped you with the dishes while Tommy drove your cousin home. He had a crush on her for years, and finally grew a pair to make it known. Your mom, thankfully, went home with your aunts.

It was nearing midnight when Joel returned from upstairs after saying goodnight to the girls and wishing them sweet dreams. He found you curled up in the loveseat next to the fireplace, deep in thought with a half drunk glass of wine resting alongside the table. The rim of the glass was coated in a residue of your lipstick that had long since rubbed off.

“Is there room for me there?” He gestured to the loveseat with a small grin.

Your eyes met his in a soft gaze, and a subtle nod. And when you start to rise from the cushion, he stops you and instead lifts your thighs up gently before scooting in behind you so you’re draped across his lap comfortably.

“Are the girls asleep?” You ask as his hand rests around your hip.

“Mhm. Jus’ you and me, baby.” He replies with a swipe of his lips against your forehead. “Is everythin’ okay? You looked upset earlier..”

“Oh.” You sigh. “Yeah, everything is okay, Joel. It's just the holidays, and my mother, but I’m okay.” You reassure him while your hand drifts up towards the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair with your nails gently scratching his scalp.

“Yeah, I reckon she had some shit to say? I’m sorry, baby doll. But remember what I said earlier? You’re perfect to me no matter what your mother thinks or says.” He murmured. His hand that wasn’t resting along your hip reaches up, his thumb brushes across your chin, eyes boring into yours with sincerity and pure love.

“I just..I hate her sometimes, and I know I shouldn’t because she’s my mother, but she’s a bitter woman, and I don’t want her in my life anymore, Joel. Not when she’s like this.” You nearly croak, and his face falls. His lips curved downwards into a deep set frown. He senses your tears before they even begin to fall.

“Hey, just because she’s your mother, doesn’t mean that she has a right to be in your life, baby. It’s your life, and you get to decide who you want to be a part of it.” He can feel the weight of the small box growing heavy in his pocket. “Darlin’, I love you, and I just want my girl to be happy.” He confessed.

“You’re right. It's my life and I get to make those choices, not her. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to—”

He shushes you softly. His thumb gently presses down against your lower lip before he steals a quick kiss to reassure you, and himself. “Hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. You’re perfect. You’re amazing. Could give less of a fuck what your bitter mother has to say about it. I love you for you, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”

He pauses, swallowing the lump that is growing in his throat. He releases your hip gently before reaching into his pocket. “I know I shoulda asked you this question a long time ago, but I had to be sure that..it was perfect. All my life I’ve found myself bein’ a hopeless romantic. Always giving, never receivin’ the same kinda love I put out there. Never thought that one person could make a man’s heart feel so full, so complete till I met you. Now, you know I ain’t one for cliches, but I love you with everything my heart has to offer, and I want nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my beautiful, sweet, unconditionally lovin’, girl.”

“Joel..are you—oh my god.” You’re in disbelief, heart thumping rapidly out of your chest when he pulls out a small, forest green velvet encased box.

“I ain’t finished yet, darlin.’” He tuts playfully. “So, will you do me the honors of becoming my wife? And as your husband, I promise to never stop lovin’ you, t’never stop supportin’ you, no matter what life throws our way?” His eyes are glassy with freshly brewed tears. He doesn’t even have the chance to open the box and reveal the ring to you before you’re throwing your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs from how tightly you’re hugging him.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you! Oh my god, a million times, yes!” You’re so happy you can barely contain it.

“Dontcha wanna see the ring?” He laughed warmly, wrapping his arms around you. “Ellie and Sarah helped me pick it out.”

“Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee and all that?” You ask teasingly while you pull back from the hug and hold out your left hand.

“Oh, shit! You’re right! I’m doin’ this all wrong.” He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“No, fuck the tradition. Let’s do it our way.” You suggest and he smiles brightly, dimples peeking through. You open the box together revealing the dainty ring that had you written all over the design. An oval shaped diamond in the center, a shiny gold band, and two smaller diamonds on either side.

“It’s beautiful, Joel. You and the girls have impeccable taste.” Your heart swells when his lips press to your ring finger before he carefully slips the ring into place.

“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t compare to the woman who’s wearing it.” He comments thoughtfully while your hands come to rest along his cheeks. His face is held tenderly while I love you’s are whispered only for yours and his ears. It’s not long before you're chasing one another’s lips. He kisses you with the same amount of passion every single time.

“Keep the sweater on, baby.” You request between kisses while his hands make quick work of tearing your thin tights open for easy access.

“I’ll buy ya a million pairs. Jus’ wanna make love to my future wife fireside without any obstructions.” His hands rest upon either side of your hips when you straddle his lap.

“And I want my future husband to sit back and watch his future wife ride his cock.” You finalize your words with a searing kiss while your fingers work open the button on his jeans. You push the material down just enough that you can pull his cock free.

“M’so fuckin’ lucky. God, I am so lucky. All my life I’ve been waitin’ for someone like you, baby.” He grunts lovingly, unconditionally when you finally sink down around him. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to grow old with you.”

Your hips roll slowly against his while he pulls you in with gentle hands. There’s no teeth clashing, or skin slapping. It’s just good ole fashioned love making by the fire. Just you and your Texas hunk.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Miller. You’re the only man in this world that deserves my heart.

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sillymercury · 2 months

Text

I’m Not the Crazy One, She Is!

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Slight suggestiveness and swearing

Word count: 7.7k (idk I went a lil cray)

Summary: You weren’t trying to kill your neighbor, honestly, you were just defending yourself. But that crazy fae and her antics land you in a holding cell. Luckily for you, getting arrested turns out to be much more fun than you ever anticipated.

My face was set into a hard line as I sat on the curb outside of Rita’s. The sound of the bar closing early was clearly audible from the spot the lawman had told me to sit and not move. Patrons exited with grumbling and angry faces, some glared as they passed and I could only offer apologetic smiles. I was already uncomfortable enough without the condescending stares and occasional curses.

The cool air pushed my hair around and with my hands magically bound behind my back I was repeatedly spitting strands out of my mouth. My thin dress provided no solace against the cold stone under my ass and the unrelentingly wind was only making it worse. I was beyond uncomfortable but the civil servants didn’t seem to care.

This wasn’t fair; it’s not like I started the fight, I just finished it.

I’ve never been a fighter per se, but I’ve also never let someone walk all over me and at this point I’d had enough. The crazy bitch to my left was currently raging against the other two patrols, thrashing around and spitting on their uniform. I scoffed as she screamed obscenities and pushed the female off of her with a hard kick to the chest.

“See!” I exclaimed at the patrol that was half watching me and half watching his colleges struggle to detain the crazed fae. “She’s fucking crazy! Obviously I’m the victim here.”

His eyes moved to mine and I widened them for emphasis, he responded with a scoff of his own. “It took all three of us to drag you off of her,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “not to mention multiple witnesses are willing to testify that most of the property damage was your fault.” His eyes narrowed as he dared me to challenge the statement.

I just leaned back and kicked my legs out with a huff. A couple of chairs, tables, some glasses, some bottles, a few bystanders, and an already weak wall wasn’t enough. I should’ve thrown her into or hit her with something else. Even now, watching her childish display had me itching to go put her in her place all over again.

“Listen, I’m a cool fae. Calm and collected, I don’t start problems. Her,” I jerked my elbow into the direction of the female that wasn’t slowing down, “on the other hand, does. None of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t come up to me. She was pulling my hair and scratching at my eyes! What would you have done?”

I leaned forward expectantly, I knew he agreed. Instead of confirming he just shook his head and looked away. Back-up had finally arrived and three of the four officers assisted in detaining the wild one. One of them used whatever magic they possessed to temporarily knock her out for transport. The remaining lawman approached where I was sitting and looked me up and down.

“I take it you’re the one who fought her?” I looked over at the unconscious female that was being slung over a shoulder and just nodded with a light shrug. “Can’t say I blame ya,” he responded in a much more relaxed tone than the first officer.

“Thank you!” I exclaimed as he helped me onto two feet. I threw the first patrol a look that said everything I was thinking which he only responded with another shake of his head. I didn’t miss the light smile he had and in that moment I felt like I had this in the bag. I assumed I would get a warning, maybe a slap on the wrist and be sent on my way. I hoped that they would lock her up in some far off dungeon and throw away the key.

The new officer grabbed my elbow lightly before winnowing us to the station. I suppressed my groan as I took in the depressing scene. Gray walls, gray floors, gray bars that lined different holding cells on the back wall. The room was packed with multiple desks where about 15 officers sat, some with either with victims or perpetrators in front of them. Every desk though had stacks of papers that threatened to spill to the floor.

I followed diligently behind the officer as he led me farther and farther to the back. I prayed that he would stop at any of the empty desks but he didn’t stop until he reached the cells. He opened up the metal door and looked at me expectantly.

“Wait, I have to go in there?” My voice was slightly shrill and I couldn’t contain the breaths that were coming out rapidly. The cop just raised his eyebrows and nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “For how long? I have to work in the morning. I can’t be here all night!”

The officer just chuckled and shrugged, “Well I’ve got about a hundred other things on my to do list. I guess you should’ve thought about that before destroying thousands of marks worth of property and assaulting someone.”

My hands shook behind my back and I suddenly understood what made that female rage against the law. I wanted to do anything, everything to keep me out of that cell. Screaming, crying, fighting, biting… whatever it would take to keep me out of there. I knew though that none of it would work, it would just make my situation worse. Begrudgingly I forced my heavy feet to carry me into the cell, all the way to the bench on the back wall. I sat with a plop and depression marred my face as I watched the cop lock the door.

I hit my head against the wall with a groan as I thought about what led me here, my stupid crazy neighbor. But seemingly my luck didn’t run out, it was still finding ways to make the situation worse. My neighbor didn’t just live next to me, her limp body was also parked in the cell next to mine. I cursed the wall for not being solid, instead it was just a row of metal bars keeping us apart.

Eventually her body began to stir as she woke up and I mentally prepared myself. Not only for her grating voice but for the verbal abuse that would accompany it.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Morrigan called out to her slow moving family, “We’re burning nighttime!”

Feyre laughed as she hauled Rhys off the couch and hollered one more time for Nesta and Cassian. Azriel was ready, standing dutifully by Mor as he waited with her for the rest of their family. He only took off his leathers at the persistent pestering of Mor. Donning black pants and a black muscle tank, his dark shadows concealed most of him and he looked more like a black mass on two legs. Mor wore her famous color in a tight dress that flowed beautifully over her legs accompanied by a slit that ran to her hips. Feyre’s dress complimented Mor’s but in a deep blue that resembled the night sky, Rhys wore his usual tailored garb that matched the silver detailing on Feyre’s dress.

The couple approached the door and Rhys had a far off look in his eyes before speaking, “Looks like it’s just us… Nes and Cass are,” he cleared his throat before flashing a coy grin, “busy.”

“Eww,” Mor muttered Turing around and opening the door for everyone. “Whatever we’ll have fun on our own!” Mor screamed into the house and only the sound of something falling over upstairs answered her. She rolled her eyes before closing the door behind her.

The pairs made their way through cobble stone roads aiming for their favorite bar. At least once a week Mor would drag them out demanding a good time and she always got her wish. Her and Feyre linked arms as they skipped and the boys walked in a comfortable silence behind them.

“Gonna pick up any ladies tonight?” Rhys nudged his brothers shoulder as he teased, “I know Mor will. Wouldn’t want you to have to spend the night listening to everyone else enjoy themselves.” Rhys chuckled as he pondered all the different ways to get Feyre out of that form fitting dress. Azriel shook his head, already knowing where his brothers mind had gone.

A small smirk snuck its way onto his lips, “I suppose I could indulge.”

“Ooo hoo hoo!” Rhys jested, “My brother, the fox.” A low chuckle left Az’s lips as he just shook his head again. The light air that surrounded themselves dropped when the girls stopped skipping to take in the scene in front of them.

All of the lights in Rita’s was on and crowds of people were formed outside. There were multiple patrols going in and out of the bar and some of them were taking statements from the bystanders. Some of the individuals were with medics, either being bandaged or given ice to sooth wounds. Azriel switched gears in the blink of an eye, going from easing going brother to spymaster as he detached to scope the scene.

“What the hell!” Mor practically screeched as she pushed through the crowded street, heading into the pub. Rhys and Feyre shared a glance that conveyed their confusion and worry before following Mor inside.

The place was a wreck. Multiple tables were broken and shards of chairs were strewn about. Wherever there wasn’t wood chips there was broken glass and the stench of the alcohol that covered the floor attacked their senses upon arrival. The wall that separated the entry way to the hall looked like it had been chopped up with an ax and Rita was behind the bar surveying the scene with distress.

“What happened?” Mor asked after rounding the bar and taking a defeated looking Rita into her arms.

“Bar fight.” She said simply, “I’m going to have to shut down for the rest of the week. Some of my best bottles are now in puddles on the floor, and that alone’ll take a month to get a new shipment in.”

Mor looked pissed and Rhys’ expression wasn’t far behind. To see his families favorite oasis in disarray and people of his court injured had redness creeping up his neck and threatening his face.

An officer strolled in and bowed to his high lord and lady before addressing Rita, “We’ve taken multiple statements and taped off the scene. There’s not much more we can do at the moment but we’ll be back to collect damage report.” Rita nodded understandingly but Mor wasn’t having it.

“Not much more to do?!” Her voice was loud as she screamed, “Look around! Look at this place! This… this is a crime!” She was irrational at the moment, she obviously didn’t expect the officers to clean up the scene but she wanted- needed- something to be done.

“Yes…” the cop blinked before straightening and clearing his throat, “it is. We are taking this very seriously. The suspects are already in custody so there isn’t really anything else we can do.” He seemed nervous as he remembered who he was talking to. His eyes darted between a flabbergasted Mor and his high lord, Rhys just nodded and that seemed to calm him down before he practically ran away.

“I am going to kill whoever did this,” Mor seethed, her hands shaking. Rita was her friend and this was her favorite spot in the city, she felt as though the crime was done specifically to her. “I mean- what? What are we going to do?”

Rita just shook her head but Rhys’ attention was redirected when Azriel materialized next to him.

“Bar fight, between two females. Subject A attacked subject B and B used her powers to fight off A. 3 bystanders were injured and by the looks of it,” Azriel keen eyes raked over the room before turning back to Rhys, “thousands in damage.”

Rhys let out a heavy sigh before placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Let’s go. I want to deal with these females myself.” Azriel nodded at his brothers words and there movements were halted.

“Do you want me to come?” Feyre asked, stepping over broken chairs and around puddles to reach them.

Rhys’ eyes softened as he took in his worried mate, her wide eyes scanning the scene for the hundredth time. “No, stay here. Do what you can to help and try to comfort Mor… and Rita.” His eyes danced over to Morrigan who was walking around the hall waving her hands and still screaming, she looked more distressed than Rita did. Feyre nodded and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, offering Az a supportive smile before making her way to Mor. With that the men shared a determined look before exiting the hall and making their way to the station.

At this point I was hitting my head against the cold wall repeatedly, not hard enough to hurt myself but enough to drown out the nagging from the cell next to mine.

The crazed female, Gala, had woken up and immediately began screeching. She pulled and tugged on the cage door and verbally assaulted any officer who passed. Her attention eventually shifted and she was now honed in on me.

“You selfish bitch! You couldn’t just let me have one night. One peaceful night without your presence! You had to show up and ruin everything! And now, I’m locked in a cage like some wild animal because you can’t control yourself!”

I didn’t want to, but I snapped, “You are a wild animal! I’m the one who doesn’t deserve to be locked up! You might be too dense to remember but you attacked me, I didn’t even know you were there!”

Gala began screeching again claiming that I was put here to ruin her life and I can’t help but indulged in her childish behavior. Something about this female irked me to my core and soon I was partaking in the screaming match through the bars.

The officer was who was unlucky enough to have his desk placed closest to the holding cells stood up so quick his chair fell over. He whipped around and glared with bloodshot eyes, “Shut up! Both of you! Or I’m adding disorderly conduct to your already long lists.”

Gala scoffed at that and I mimicked the sound, “Once again,” I said exasperated, “she started it!” The officer didn’t say anything else but a pointed finger came through the bars. His finger shook with his barely contained rage before he looked to Gala who was mumbling about police incompetence and gave her a finger as well. He turned around and quietly picked up his chair before going back to the gargantuan stack of papers on his desk.

After sitting back down I hit my head against the wall one last time shaking my head. All of the other ways the night could’ve ended mocked me as I closed my eyes.

“Don’t look so forlorn, not when it’s your fault,” Gala was determined to keep the argument going as she harshly whispered into my cell. She had her face squished between bars as she glared at me and continued her verbal lashing.

I counted my deep breaths as I tried to control the urge to reach through the bars and wring her neck. Images of me slamming her face into the bars repeatedly was my only solace as I tuned out her low shrieking. Even when she whispers she’s still incredibly annoying.

The venom kept spewing from her mouth until the same officer that brought me in came and unlocked my cell, I shot up and prayed for freedom. He unlocked Gala’s cell too and had the mind to hold her arm, “There’s someone here to see you two,” his tone was borderline teasing and he led us away from all the desks. “He says he wants to handle this himself.”

I followed quietly behind as nerves overtook my body, was it the police chief? Was someone in Rita’s family a judge who wanted to dish out the worst punishment they could? Cold sweat threatened my brow as we made our way into a private office.

Gala was shoved into a leather chair and I stumbled into my own. The magical binds on my wrists made it hard to sit comfortably and I shifted around while the leather squeaked. The officer closed the door with a smile and at that Gala turned in her chair, glaring.

“Can you stop? Even your shifting is annoying me.”

“I’m annoying you?” I felt blood rush back to my face for the umpteenth time, “Well imagine how I felt when you grabbed my hair and started scratching my face!” Your voices were low but the venom was still there.

“Don’t act like you didn’t have it coming. You go out of your way to ruin my life any chance you get, showing up at Rita’s tonight… I know what you’re trying to do.”

My eyes widened and realization hit me, “Your crazy. You’re just fucking crazy.” That was the only answer. Gala was out of her fucking mind, that’s why even when I breathe she cries abuse.

The word crazy seemed to spark something and the screaming match started up again, this time in a lower tone. Something about the formidable air in the office kept us from getting too loud; but you can still scream a whisper.

I couldn’t even hear what she was saying over my own words but I knew it was bullshit so I continued to say all of the nasty things that popped into my head.

Our voices were haulted when a cool black mist came over the room, obstructing everything. I couldn’t see an inch in front of me as darkness encompassed the room and my entire body. It wasn’t mist, it was shadow, and it clung to me like a second skin. The anger was replaced by fear as I tried to determine what was happening, what had stolen my sight and dropped the rooms degree.

Eventually the shadow cleared and suddenly someone was on the other side of the desk, two someone’s.

The High Lord of the Night Court and his Spymaster. A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the power rolling off them in waves, pushing me further into the chair. They were the last people I expected to see, and the last people I wanted to deal with. There stoney expressions conveyed the anger that was rippling through them.

Rhysand sat poised in the large chair, narrowed eyes studying me and Gala while Azriel stood behind him, arms crossed over his chest with an emotionless face.

Normally I would drool at the sight. Two of the three most handsome men in Velaris, staring me down. Rhys’ perfectly carved face set to impose intimidation and Azriel… I’d seen the spymaster a few times in passing, but seeing him up close was a different story.

His high cheekbones that contoured into a perfect jaw, his Nubian nose that sat perfectly straight above plump lips, hazel eyes that shone through shadows, and a low taper fade that danced across his forehead lovingly. He was the embodiment of beauty, perfection in fae form, awe personified. I knew I should be scared, shaking where I sat, but something in the hazel warmed me, soothed me. I forced myself to look at Rhysand so I could have the right mind of being scared, and it worked.

He stared at us for a few minutes and the tension in the air grew, Gala was crazy but no crazy enough to lash out in front of her high lord, not yet at least. We both sat uncomfortably in the silence and now it was her leather chairs turn to squeak.

“So,” Rhys began, picking up the paper that was laid in front of him and looking it over, “Disturbing the peace, public intoxication, assault, aggravated assault, battery, criminal mischief, theft, resisting arrest, evading arrest, assault of an officer, intentional infliction of emotional distress, reckless endangerment, disorderly conduct, obstruction of justice, trespassing, vandalism, and last but not least hate crimes.” He laid down the paper and I couldn’t help but gape at the list he rattled off, there is no way I was being charged with all of that. Especially not the assaulting an officer or evading arrest, I know that was Gala but hate crimes? They can’t possibly believe I fought her because she is a lesser fae.

“This is quite the list you’ve racked up,” he spoke again his eyes zeroing in on me. I just looked down, ashamed. I wished my power was to reverse time. I would’ve never stepped foot into Rita’s if I knew it would land me here, a meeting with my high lord who seemed determined to dish out terrible punishment. “Do you have anything to say for yourselves.”

I just shook my head, finding my glittery heels very interesting.

“I do,” Gala spoke up, my head snapped to her and I saw a disgusting determination on her face. “I shouldn’t be here! I should be getting medical attention, therapy, a protection detail! I am clearly the victim here!”

I knew it didn’t help my case but I couldn’t help my eye roll. By the looks of it, I was the one in the wrong. I had a couple marks on my face that probably wouldn’t bruise as well as minor scratches around my eyes. Gala on the other hand, had bruises and cuts all over her exposed lilac skin. Her silver eyes were bloodshot and one was swollen with green and dark blue hues, a cut lip, and a nose that suffered a gnarly break.

This was bad.

“Alright…” Rhys started slowly before glancing at the paper once more, “Gala is it?” She nodded fervently, “Since you’re the only one with something to say… tell me what happened. And don’t lie to me.”

Gala took a shaky breath and I almost groaned at her theatrics, “I have been so stressed, you know, I work really hard, with children, not easy work. But I decided to go to Rita’s, grab a drink. I’m a grown woman, you know, I wanted to let off some steam. Then she,” she pointed a crooked finger in my direction as she had some how shimmed her bound hand in front of her. As I looked I wondered if it was always like that or if it was crooked because I broke it. “She followed me there. She’s obsessed with me, you know, always doing whatever she can to make my life hard. She’s my neighbor, you know. always pestering me and my pets and plants. She’s unrelenting.”

I made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a gasp, if anyone was unrelenting it was her. Rhys sent me a harsh glare and the shadowsinger stepped forward, a warning.

I slunk back into my chair and I’ve never seen Gala look so happy.

“Well she followed me to Rita’s, and I didn’t feel safe. I mean she’s always sneaking around doing things she’s not supposed to, you know. As a matter of fact she has- well had- a baby hippogriff. Poor thing didn’t survive, she probably killed it. But those creatures are illegal in this court, you know,” Rhys nodded and hummed along, I just threw my head back on the chair and stared at the ceiling. I’m going to rot in jail.

“Anyways so she was being unruly and loud and that dress, I swear this girl would do anything for some attention. Well I went over there to ask her to quiet down, I wasn’t the only one getting annoyed with her, you know. But when I touched her shoulder she turned around and started screaming, I put my hands up because I didn’t want her to hurt me or anything, you know. She just lost it, screaming, hitting, it was absolutely insane.

She picked up a chair and whacked me. She threw some glass at me and tackled me into the shards. She threw me through a wall! This woman is a danger to our city! A danger to the night court- hel- a danger to all of Prythian! This woman belongs in a cell with no way out!”

By the end of Gala’s tale I couldn’t help but stare, my mouth was practically on the floor. He explicitly told her not to lie and yet she had the gall to do it anyway. If I wasn’t facing persecution from the most powerful man alive I would’ve gave her another black eye.

Rhys hummed, processing the story, his violet eyes turned to me. They were swimming with contempt and I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me. I forced tears to the back of my eyes knowing tears would only egg Gala on. “Still having nothing to say?” His voice was deathly calm.

“Yes- no!” I cursed the nerves that had my brain scrambled, I needed to calm down before I made things worse for myself. I took a deep breath before looking up again, my eyes caught Azriel and for a brief second something flashed across his face. His eyes got a far off look that matched the high lords. The conversation that happened between them was brief and when the high lord zeroed in on me I felt like the decision was made before I could even speak. I was guilty.

“I did hurt her- bad. But, I didn’t start it. I swear I was at Rita’s first, I didn’t even know she was there. I was drinking with my friends and this guy was looking at me, and I was looking at him, and then well we were looking at each other so I didn’t even notice when she came up to me, not until she tapped me on the shoulder. She was yelling about my dress, calling me horrible names. At that point the dude had walked away so I was already pissed when I told her ‘I’m not doin this with you tonight’ and when I turned around she grabbed my hair. Yanked me down to her level and bop bop!” I jerked my shoulder to try and insinuate a punch, “she was doing my head in and so I grabbed her wrist and tried to remove her from my hair and when I turned she started scratching at my eyes-“

“Liar!” Gala stood up and screamed at me.

“No! It’s true and you fucking know it,” I hissed at her. She opened her mouth to yell again but words didn’t come out when Rhys let out a low growl, accompanied by an unmistakable look. She was receiving the same the same warning I got earlier.

Rhys nodded at me and I continued, “she scratched my eyes and I shoved her off of me, that was when she fell into the table. My powers are… interesting so the table broke when I pushed her into it. She got up pretty quick after that, she grabbed a chair and started running towards me with it so I grabbed it before it hit me and I hit her with it. Mind you I had a couple shots in me so I was ready, I turned the chair on her and broke it over her. I thought that would be enough but she grabbed a glass from the table and threw it at me. I know those glasses hit some other people but I think when she missed me it upset her because she was screamed and ran at me-

“You threw the glass at me! I was screaming running away!”

It was my turn to growl at Gala, she only sneered before shutting up again. “She ran at me and I dodged her and she ran into another table, that’s how the second table broke. So I grabbed a bottle off the bar and when she came at me again I broke it, on her face. I really thought she would stop after that but she grabbed a tray off the bar that was full of glasses and threw that at me, some of it hit me and so I threw another chair at her. She was under the chair and tackled me to the floor, scratching at my face again. I hit her and it knocked her off of me, she grabbed the broken bottle and she looked like she would kill me so… well I picked her up and threw her. That’s what put the whole in the wall, and really, that’s when I thought she was done for real.

So I turn around and go to grab my things because I’m trying to leave but she grabbes one of those big bottles from behind the bar and threw it.”

“Bitch!” Gala was up again this time moving for my face, “You stupid whore! You know-“ her voice was cut off when the ground beneath her feet began to shake, the whole office was shaking.

Rhysand braced his hands on the desk and glared at Gala, “We heard your story, now I want to hear hers. If you interrupted a fourth time… you will regret it.” Galas eyes were wide and she was smart enough to look afraid. She just nodded dumbly before sitting down, her silver eyes darting between the angry high lord and the unyielding spymaster. I waited for Rhys to nod again before continuing.

“It hit my head and at that point, it wasn’t about defending myself, I just wanted to to beat her ass. So yes I did run at her and slammed her into a table, kinda roughly so that’s how the third table and those chairs broke. Anyway so yea, I get to her and that’s when I just started hitting her, some guy tried to pull me off but I think I hit him. I really do feel bad about that, I’ll pay for whatever medical treatment he receives. Anyways that’s when the cops dragged me off of her, three of them I think, they detained me and when they went to try and detain her she freaked. Started fighting the officers, she threw another bottle at the short one and they dragged both of us out. She fought them the whole time, kicking and screaming at the cops.”

When I finished the high lord just stared face still blank, I felt like I needed to explain more, pleade my case further. But he spoke before I could, “So you guys are neighbors?”

“Yes!” Me and Gala both said at the same time, the dirty look we gave each other also happened at the same time.

“Yes,” I repeated, “She has hated me ever since I moved in. Actually I’m pretty sure she’s the one who killed my hippogriff.”

Gala snorted, “I wouldn’t go near that thing with a ten foot pole! They’re dangerous creatures and they’re illegal here you know!”

“Yes, I know,” I mocked her and the fire that was in her eyes in, Rita’s returned.

Gala jumped up to scream, “You insolent bitch! You think you’re above everyone but you ruin lives for fun!”

“How did I ruin your life?!” I was standing now too, “I never did anything to you!”

“Lies!” She screeched, “you know exactly what you did! Sneaking around my garden when I’m not home!”

I, once again, gaped at her. “Seriously? That’s what this is about!? Because I watered you plants when you were out of town?!”

“Trespassing!” If my hands were able to I would’ve covered my ears, her tone was dangerously high. “You trespassed on my property! Not to mention you tried to steal my cat, probably to feed it to you hippogriff!”

“What?!” The whole situation was utterly insane to me, “I was trying to be a good neighbor! And your cat followed me home. Probably to get away from you.”

Gala was seething, “You don’t talk about my cat! You stole him after you broke in! Broke into my garden and ruined my work!”

A dark chuckle fell from my lips, “I ruined your work by keeping your plants alive? You’re fucking crazy,” I turned to the high lord to try and find some support, “You hear this? She’s fucking crazy!”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Gala screamed as she shook from rage.

“Come on bitch. I’ll beat your ass- again!” She ran at me only to hit an invisible wall and falling onto her behind with no way to brace herself.

“Enough!” Rhys voice was commanding now and the primal part of me coward at the sound. He was visibly angry. “This all started over a garden?” His voice held an incredulous tone and I couldn’t blame him, the story was ridiculous.

“It started before the garden, she’s had something against me since ever I moved in.” My voice was calm as I spoke, I didn’t want to anger him more.

Gala on the other hand didn’t seem to care much, she rose from the floor before continuing her rampage, “She moved into my quiet neighborhood, and my life has been hel ever since! Always singing loudly in the morning. Having friends over at night. Prancing around in skimpy dresses. Growing plants that I haven’t been able to grow just to rub it in my face! You should see it, she’s always flicking her perfect hair and smiling at everyone who looks at her. I can’t stand it! All the males coming to her doorstep trying to be with her, females flocking to gain a friendship with her. In all my years no one has ever tried to befriend me! I hate how everyone loves her! I hate it! And I hate her!”

I just blinked at Galas out burst and suddenly everything clicked. She was jealous of me. I stepped back and slumped into the chair at my knees. I just shook my head, all of this over some petty insecurities.

“Nell!” Rhys called and the officer that escorted us poked his head in, “Can you escort Y/n here back to her holding cell? I’d like to speak with Gala in private.” Nell just nodded, he moved towards me but I stood up and met him half way. All the anger was lost to me as I followed him all the way to the back of the station.

I sat down in my cell and my eyes were trained on the floor, the tears I was holding back finally found there way out. Nell locked the door and when I didn’t hear him walk away I looked up. “I heard everything, and off the record,” he leaned in, “I think she’s crazy too.”

I offered him a sad smile before looking back down. She was crazy but she was hurting, I knew her jealousy wasn’t my fault but I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I was trying to be helpful, living my life as happily as possible but for some twisted reason I was hurting her. Tears continued to fall until a small whisper of a shadow nuzzled my face and wiped them away.

The entire scene that played out in front of the brothers was no less than absurd. Almost comical, Rhys might have laughed if he wasn’t playing the role of the dutiful high lord. But the most interesting part was what Azriel had whispered in his mind. The girl, the main perpetrator, was his mate.

The second your voice hit his ears, Azriel almost fell to his knees. Your voice was melodic, soft and sweet, reminiscent of a summer breeze. The only thing he could do was petrify himself, to keep from falling in front of you, kissing your minor injuries, and tearing the throat out of the female who spoke ill of you.

He saw the tears threatening your eyes as you stood up to move out of the room. Every part of his body screamed at him to comfort you, hold you, inform you that you aren’t responsible for another fae’s bitterness.

When you left Rhys interrogated Gala further, listening to her wild tales of all the times you did something terrible. It truly sounded like you were just living your life and for some reason she hated that. She called you names, names that threatened Azriels resolution. He wanted to rip the spiteful bitch to shreds and finish what you started. He couldn’t lie, he felt some sick pride while listening to your side of the story. He knew if he was there things would’ve ended much worse for her.

Rhysand listened diligently, nodding and humming as Gala went on. Azriel slightly resented his brother for not striking her down where she sat. Rhys eventually cleared his throat, indicating that he was ready to speak. “So Gala, do you remember the first thing I said to you?” She nodded dutifully, “When I told you not to lie to me?” She nodded again, more unsure this time. Rhys just gave her a saccharine grin, “You wouldn’t mind if I checked, would you?”

“I- well-“ she shifted under the intensity of the stares, “It’s just my thoughts are my own, you know… I would like to keep it that way.” Her confidence wavered and suddenly she was unable to make eye contact.

Rhys chuckled lowly, “Look Gala, I just want to help. That- that wretch has made you suffer enough. Let me in; and I’ll take care of all of it.”

A deep growl came from Azriel his tight grip on his shadows loosened, causing them to swirl around him menacingly. Rhys knew the reaction was for him, he would react the same to hear his brother speak such words about Feyre. Galas eyes widened, taking the scene as a threat to her. She nodded lamely and with permission Rhys slipped into her mind.

Azriel tried to reign in his shadows, struggling against their will, it wasn’t until they relayed your voice he relaxed. They carried soft whispers to his ear and a deep breath pushed from his mouth at the sound.

I sat in the cell watching the lone shadow dance around for me, it seemed it was attempting to cheer me up. I chuckled lightly at its antics. An officer walked past the cell and it darted into my hair, hiding. This naughty shadow wasn’t meant to be here, I wonder if my power is what called it or if it came on its own free will. I decided to channel my power, hone it in on the male who the shadow belonged to. After a few seconds of concentration, I was connected.

“Hi,” I whispered and it circled my head, running across my face before landing on my knee.

Hello, hello, it whispered back. Beautiful, so so beautiful.

I laughed airily, “Thank you, so are you.” The shadow whirled around at the compliment, happy to hear praises. “Listen, I’m innocent. You have to believe me, I didn’t start this. I didn’t do anything to her.”

Innocent, innocent, it chanted and I let out a breath. The shadow believed me, I wondered if it was a reflection of its master or if it had its own will.

“Can you tell your master?” I questioned, leaning down, “Can you convince him?”

He’s here, it whispered back and I snapped my neck up to find none other than Azriel. He was leaning against the bars giving me a devilish smirk. He looked beautiful, his tan arms crossed showing off rippling muscles as his eyes glanced over me lazily. I pushed my thighs together, feeling hot under his gaze.

He wants you too, the naughty little shadow whispered, causing a blush to creep up my cheeks as I looked away.

He chuckled lowly as he turned to face me completely, his forearm met the bar above his head as he leaned in. The ravishing sight had me licking my lips, something his smirk told me he caught.

“Cool power,” he mused, his eyes shone with mischief as he held my gaze.

Busted, the shadow whispered and I rolled my eyes at it.

“Very cool, and very useful.” My voice was confident despite the shaking under my skin.

He huffed a laugh before leaning back and crossing his arm over his chest once more. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He does, the shadow outed him and it was my turn to laugh.

“I’m guessing that’s where you got the strength from, you channeled someone else’s power to throw that poor female into a wall.”

“Oh please,” it was my turn to lean back. I crossed my legs slowly and I bit my lip as his eyes tracked the movement. “That bitch had it coming.”

“Ooo,” he purred and the warmth between my legs spread to the rest of my body, “Naughty little girl, don’t you know? Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.” His head cocked to the side and I mimicked his movement, a smirk of my own forming. “Bad girls need punished.”

I slowly uncrossed my legs and pushed myself up, moving towards him. I was hot, burning under his gaze. Everything tingled as gave into some intrinsic need that command I be closer to him. I pushed my chest against the bars and my low cut dress showed off my cleavage. His eyes lowered to exactly where I knew they would. The shadow danced excitedly through my hair as if it too loved our proximity.

“And will you be personally handing out my punishment?” I made my voice sickly sweet, conveying an inappropriate innocence. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and batted them sweetly.

A low rumble left his chest and I hummed at the sound. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Leaning in he whispered, “I don’t think anyone else would do it properly.” His eyes raked the entirety of my body and I thanked the mother for putting on my most flattering dress. The double entendre coupled with his hazy eyes had me ready to tear apart the steel and pounce.

“Promise?”

His scared had gripped the bar so tight his knuckles turned white. Looks like I’m not the only one ready to tear through steal.

Suddenly he leaned back and crossed his arms again, smirk still evident. A second later Rhysand and officer Nell were at the cell door, and Rhys was looking at me with a pleased look that only garnered confusion.

“Where’s Gala?” I looked around but she wasn’t in the station and I didn’t see her exit the office.

“Gala’s not going to be a problem for you anymore,” the simplicity in his words was slightly troubling. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to Gala, not anymore at least. I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow waiting for an answer. Rhys noted my concern, “Nothing bad. But I looked through some of her memories and- what she felt for you, it was completely irrational. She needs help so we’re going to get her some. Very far away.”

I let out a breath which was followed by an airy chuckle. I leaned my head against the bar and my chuckle turned into a full belly laugh. “Thank gods, she was fucking crazy.”

Rhys smiled as he waved his hand and my magical bonds fell. My hands wrapped around my own wrists soothingly and I stepped out of the now open door. “There’s still the issue of all the damage Rita’s suffered,” Rhys cocked his brow, interested in what I might say to that.

“Whatever it is, I’ll pay it,” I made hands that conveyed that of a promise.

“The damage reports come to around 4,090 gold marks,” officer Nell responded, his coy smile ever prevalent. I made an O shape with my mouth and rocked on my heels back and forth. That’s about 6 paychecks, without factoring the need to pay rent or buy food.

“I’ll pay it,” Azriel said simply. I whipped my head around to look at him, on the cusp of disagreeing. “Well you’ll pay it, it’ll come out of your check; when you come work for us.”

My shock was evident on my face and my mouth opened and closed lamely before I mustered up a “What?”

“Your powers,” he clicked his tongue as he stepped next to me, close enough for our arms to brush. “They could come in handy, far more handy for us than they do at some desk job.”

I shook my head as I processed everything. How did Azriel know where I worked? I suppose that’s dumb, he’s a spymaster and I told the police earlier. But was he really able to offer me a job, on Rhysands court?

I looked to my high lord for confirmation and he just smiled, “Way more handy than having you behind a desk,” he shoved his hands in his pocket with a shrug, “plus we already know you can fight.”

I laughed at that and my hand met my head as I mulled it over, I would be stupid not to accept. I knew my powers were unique and I always wanted to do more, I just never knew where to start. “Sure, I never liked my job anyway.” I tried to play it off cool but my soul was bouncing on the inside. The sneaky shadow seemed happy too as it whirled around my head and down through my fingers.

“Sounds good,” Rhys clapped and turned to walk with Nell, “Oh,” he looked over his shoulder, “Be sure to apologize to Rita.”

I brought my hand to my forehead offering a salute, “Yes sir!” He smiled before placing a gentle hand on Nell’s shoulder and walking away.

A giggle stole from my mouth as I clapped my hands over my heart and turned to Azriel, he had a pleased look on his face. I decided in that moment I would do anything to keep it there. “Well, that all worked out nicely.”

“Lucky you,” he purred, before tilting his head down and whispering, “Not lucky enough to escape your punishment though.”

The darkness returned to his eyes and my whole body lurched, begging to be punished right here, in front of the whole station.

I hummed as I wrapped my hands around his strong forearm, pushing onto my tiptoes and leaning into his ear. “Don’t hold out on me shadowsinger.” I giggled as I pulled back and bounced towards the door. On my way out I felt some more shadows, sneaking up and brushing against my thighs before coming up to whisper to me.

Bad, bad girl, they said. I just smirked as I pushed out of the door into daybreak. Who knew getting arrested could be so exciting.

A/N: I didn’t plan on writing this but I got the idea and since it’s my day off I went for it :p

If you guys like it I would be sooo down to do a part 2??? Maybe I’ll be brave enough to make a smutty 2 :D

Anywhooo my requests are always open so don’t be shy ;)

As always, if you made it this far… I LOVE YOU<3<3

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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months

Note

Nice how about to give you one of my old DC DP crossover prompts

Danny is a big fanfic writer for Batman, most of the time doing Tim joins the bat family early and Alternate attack on Titan's Tower. After his accident he decides to write a Jason Todd is a halfa straight out of the grave fic. Just to get his emotions out there and to vent and it gets incredibly popular.

As Time evolves the fic itself evolves from a vent fic to a under the table way to reanalyze his ghost fights and do better by transplanting his ghosts into the fic for Jason to fight. This happens generally okay until Penelope Spectra of unlike the other ghosts she was known by the rest of the world and was actually tracked by Reddit. Making the fans realize hey this is actual going on maybe not by Jason Todd but someone is using this to reanalyze their fights under the veneer of being fiction.

Danny starts to get famous for his fanfictions when he introduces the idea of halfas for the second Robin. He's not sure what happened to the second Robbin, but there are rumors he didn't die; he just retired, and the fans all accept that as the truth.

At first, Danny writes the second Robin struggling with his double life, as alive and dead, forced to hide his existence from Batman as a secret helper at night. He uses the second Robin to freely speak about his struggles with his powers in the early days, using fiction to cover his venting.

He even gave Robin a secret identity- with a disclosure that it was all made up and he did not know anything about the Bats because fans can be crazy- with the name Noir.

He made Noir a loser in school- consistently bullied, his grades were low without Batman's help, and he even had Noir live on the streets for a while before getting flung into the Ghost Zone.

Danny didn't realize it, but his writing made Noir a loveable character to his fans, who all loved "how flawed but kind-hearted" Noir, the halfa Robin. One of Danny's best commenters always claimed that Danny captured the second Robin's character.

He quickly develops Noir into someone who grows comfortable in his role after defeating the old Ghost King and getting discovered by Batman. He made the series with Noir, focusing more on the threats of the other ghosts that came to challenge the Ghost King.

Each ghost was based on his own rouges- all fighting the same way but with different names. Danny switched his main focus from Noir being confused by his powers to Noir getting stronger and stronger through all his fights.

Instead of venting on what life had done to him, Danny used his fanfiction to analyze his fights. He often wrote about what he could have done better, only after writing the actual scene and using that in a fight later on.

He even threw in there some questions that Noir started having about boys- which in high sight he should have known Jazz would have quickly picked up on because she took him to Pride "just to experience new things, Danny!"

He confirmed Noir was bi two updates later and sat back with a smirk when all the comments started rolling in.

Noir's Double Life was his pride and joy. He thought people had to search for his fic, and no one besides his sister would ever read it. Then he made the mistake of writing in a new ghost- Penny Spectra- using her exact powers, thinking no one would recognize her.

What he forgot was that back before Danny kicked her ass into the ghost zone, was that she was a well-known school counselor. A miracle worker, they called her.

Because she always found the teenagers about to fall apart and "saved" them. She had made her way clear across the country, bringing to light issues parents and guardians had no idea their children were going through and getting them the help they needed.

Mr. Lancer had been proud of getting her to come to the school for good reason.

Most adults also didn't know that teenagers talk to each other or, like Danny, post online to vent. Her past victims- for they were victims as some had not been able to pull themselves from the darkness she plunged them into- had started a riddle trend about her.

People began to piece together that whenever she went young people became more and more depressed. They had no proof of course, so she became an urban legend, a demon that appeared as a woman in schools.

Like when a celebrity is turned into a meme for being a secret serial killer, no one takes it seriously, but they think about it in the back of their minds.

Danny just wrote about her with a far too honest retelling of what she had done and how he had found out she was a ghost. He hadn't realized that one of his readers would be one of the original responders for the old Reddit thread about the fact he was a past victim.

That same reader would later link his work for the thread- especially the chapter where she appeared- and everyone would agree that the real Penelope Spectra was a ghost.

And that would be read by Tim Drake, a young member of Riddit who always took mysteries to heart and knew what was real and what wasn't.

This sane Tim Drake would later present Jason to the fanfiction in an effort to tease him about someone adoring him so much they wrote a fic about it and Jason would surprise him with claiming to have already been following the story. \

Their bickering would grab the attention of Bruce, Zatanna, and Constantine, who were in the room next door talking about protection against the dead.

John will be alarmed to see how accurate the fanfiction writer's description of ghosts and King Phantom is, then even more alarmed to find that the writer knows about halfas.

Two days after he posted the newest chapter, Danny is hunted down by Batman to find the human with an insane amount of knowledge about the Infinite Realms and his second son's condition.

Danny would be busy trying to decide if he should give in to the idea of giving Noir a ship and who it should be with while his friendlier ghosts beta-read his work.

"Honestly, I'm a little flatter about how hot you made me sound. Noir definitely has a crush on James the ghost biker." Johnny says flouting to read over Danny's shoulder.

Kitty nods eagerly from where she is lounging on the couch. "I agree, James and Noir are meant to be Danny!"

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny's Online persona #Danny is a fanfic writter #and epople find out he not making shit up #His ghost rouges sometimes show up with notes #Jason died but didn't go crazy on Tim #so they argue like normal brotthers

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azrielsdove · 5 months

Text

Rejected: Cassian x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Slight Violence, Suggestive Scenes

***

He was drowning. The pain was too much. His heart had been ripped out of his chest, shattering his bones. He was done. He was going to die. He couldn’t remember anything before this pain. He didn’t know who he was or his own name. He was already gone, it didn’t matter if his body stayed alive. He was dead.

***

You were running, feet barely touching the steps below you. You had seen Nesta come to the Riverhouse and you had taken one look at her face and known. You left her with Elain and took off for Cassian. Rhys and Azriel were away, leaving you to climb the 10,000 stairs. It had been a hundred years since you had done this, but the adrenaline coursing through you made it an easy task. It was just taking too long.

Nesta had rejected the mate bond.

You weren’t sure if you were mad with her or not. You hadn’t had time to really think about why she would do this. Not when the second you realized you took off for Cassian. He was alone. He needed someone. You hoped you could get to him in time, that he would still be himself when you got there. You knew a rejected mating bond could nearly kill the mate. You didn’t think you could ever forgive Nesta if Cassian didn’t make it through this.

You finally reached the door into the House of Wind, throwing it open. You paused once inside, listening for any signs of life.

Nothing.

You took off running again, calling for Cassian. You checked his room before running up to the training ring. You knew he hadn’t left the House, that he would be in no condition to think, much less fly somewhere. You slid through the entry into the ring, heart tearing in two as you took in the scene in front of you.

Cassian. He was curled up on his knees, smaller than you had ever seen him. You threw yourself down next to him, arms wrapping around him the best you could. You didn’t know what to do for someone in this situation. You didn’t know what to say to him. All you knew was to hold him close and try to let him know he wasn’t alone. That he didn’t have to go through this by himself. You sat there and held him for hours, until the sun started to shine over the horizon.

You pulled your stiff arms from around him, calling his name softly. “Cass? Cassian?” You pushed his hair out of his face and lifted his head towards you, willing him to open his eyes. He gave a small grunt of disapproval, pulling his head back down. You sighed before slipping your arms under his and heaving him up. You got him to his feet and supported him as you began walking. You weren’t used to carrying this much weight, but you would be damned if you were going to let him sit out in the sun all day.

You guided him inside and towards him room, setting him on his bed. You carefully removed his shoes and his training leathers, pulling out light cotton pants to change him into. You got him dressed and under the covers, sitting on the bed next to him. He had never opened his eyes. He was a ghost of who he used to be. You felt tears start at the back of your eyes, panic coming that he would be stuck like this. You shook your head once and stood, heading down to the kitchen to get him some water and try to find something he would eat. It was going to be a long time before you knew if this damage would last.

***

It had been a week and nothing was different. Cassian had yet to open his eyes or even react to anything you did. He would sip water and broth when you held them up to him, and would allow you to lead him to the bathroom to clean up in the evenings. Otherwise he stayed in his bed and didn’t move. You had started reading him books you thought he’d enjoy, having given up on him talking to you. You knew he was going to need time, but that didn’t help the ache in your heart at seeing him like this.

You paused your reading to look at him. You had met Cassian almost two hundred years ago now. You were in a fight on the edges of the Night Court against some of the nastier creatures of Prythian when he found you. He arrived right before the last remaining creature delivered a killing blow. Cassian saved your life that day, finishing off the creature and rushing you to Velaris to see a healer.

You had expected to go back to your life after you were healed, but Cassian had told Rhysand he wanted you in his armies. He was impressed with how you handled yourself and thought you would be a key asset. He took on training you himself, turning you into one of the deadliest beings the Night Court had to offer.

The man who lay in front of you now was a far cry from the one who saved you that day. Yet he didn’t give up on you then, and you won’t give up on him now. You lifted the book back up and continued reading to him.

***

After a month you knew you had to at least get him to open his eyes. You had to convince him to leave his room on his own and begin to come back to life. You weren’t going to sit here and watch Cassian sink into nothingness anymore. You walked into his room bright and early, pulling the curtains apart and opening his windows. He could do with some fresh air and sunlight. You walked over to his bed and pulled his covers off of him. He let out a groan and rolled over to his other side. “Not today, Cass.” You said, keeping your tone light but commanding. You grabbed his hands and pulled him to sitting, patting the side of his face gently. “Come on, big boy. Open those eyes for me. I’m certain you can.” Your hand fell to his neck, angling his face to look at you. He made a noncommittal noise and tried to flop back onto the bed. You gripped his arms in both your hands to prevent that, tutting at him. “Cass, you have to open your eyes. It’s been a month. We need you to start to come back to us.” Your voice dropped as you continued; “I need you to come back to me.”

You sat next to him on the bed, still holding him up. You let go with one hand again and reached up to rub gently under each eye. “You can survive this, you know you can. I’ll help you every step of the way, Cass. I need you to help me though, I need you to just open those eyes for me. Please.” Your hand dropped and you brushed his cheek, his neck, his shoulder. “You can do it.” You whispered to him, yours hands moving to hold his own. He gave a deep, shuddering breath and slowly pulled his eyes open.

You almost jumped back in shock when you saw them.

Instead you gripped his hands tighter, giving him the biggest smile you could. “Thats it Cass!” You said brightly, hoping that he wouldn’t realize anything was wrong. “Can you see me?” You asked, wondering if the look of his eyes had changed their function. He gave you a small nod and you smiled again. “Wonderful. Do you think you can stand for me?” You asked, rising from his bed and tugging on his hands. He stood slowly and followed you as you lead him to the kitchen. You sat him at the table and turned to start making food for him. You paused while everything was cooking to send a quick message to Rhys:

He’s awake. He’s moving. I got him to the kitchen and I got him to open his eyes. Rhys…his eyes. Should you send a healer?

You sent the image of what you had seen when Cassian first looked at you. Of the cold, dead, dark black eyes he looked at you with. There was nothing there. The whites of his eyes were almost gone, fractured black swimming around them. You had never seen anything like that, but you didn’t know all the symptoms that came with a rejected mating bond. Rhys’ voice filled your head as he responded:

You did good. Try to keep him up. Make him get up everyday. As for his eyes, I was expecting that to happen. The black comes from the shattered bond, it resembles what’s flowing through his body right now. During his healing his eyes will go back to normal, so do not worry. Please keep doing what you’re doing up there.

You sent him a quick thank you before putting some bacon, eggs, and toast on a plate. You placed the plate in front of him and turned to make yourself one. You figured it would be easier for him to eat if he wasn’t alone. You sat next to him, angling your body to face him. He just stared down at the food, making no move to eat. “Come, Cass.” You said softly, picking up his fork. “You will feel better once you have eaten.” He slowly took the fork from you and scooped up a bite of egg, chewing like it was his first time. You stood to bring him a glass of water, nearly dropping it when he spoke.

“I had expected my next meal to be made by her. Not by you.” His voice was strained, hoarse. You tried not to take offense to his words, there was no emotion behind them. You sat next to him again, handing him the glass. You didn’t know what to say to him. You two sat in silence as he ate his food, and when he was done you helped him back to bed. You washed his hair and his face before tucking him under the covers, setting some water and crackers on his nightstand for if he woke up. He was asleep almost instantly, and for the first time that month you left him to sleep alone.

When you closed the door to his room, the emotion of everything took over you. You slid to the ground against his door, burying your head in your knees as you cried.

***

Another month had passed. You had started by bringing Cassian down to breakfast every morning, and then slowly added in lunch and dinner. He still hadn’t said much, but the black in his eyes was beginning to disappear. Now that you had him eating well again his body was regaining some of its weight back. You were ready to push him into the next step, preparing for some pushback.

“Cassian,” you began slowly, “Let’s train today.”

He stopped chewing but didn’t look at you. “No.” he said gruffly, going back to eating. You nodded, having expected this. “I know you don’t think you are ready to, but it has been over two months since you’ve last trained. Your body needs to feel powerful again, you need to feel powerful again.” He shook his head. “I won’t.”

You sighed and stood up, facing him. “I can’t make you do anything. I’ll be out there when you are ready.” You left him there to eat his breakfast. You didn’t expect him to come right away. You knew it was going to be more of a fight before you got him out here.

So you picked up your sword and began training alone.

***

The next few days were much the same. You’d ask Cassian to come train, he’d decline. You let him off easy the first few days, but you slowly started to push harder. Today you had decided that you wouldn’t give up until he at least went to the training ring with you. He needed to just stand back out there and remember who he was.

“Your training leathers are freshly cleaned for you. Put them on and join me.” You said, finishing your breakfast. As usual, he said no. “I’m not taking no as an answer today, Cassian.” You kept your voice calm, but made sure to have an air of command in it. He glanced at you and repeated, “No.” You shrugged and stood up. “I told you. I’m not taking no as answer. You’re coming up with me.” You stared at him until he finally looked at you. His eyes were still mostly black, but the improvement was there.

“No.” He said again, not dropping his gaze. You shook your head, holding onto the chair in front of you. “At least walk up there with me. You need to get out of this house. You need to feel the breeze again. You need to remember who you are.” You were almost begging. Your eyes locked on each other for some time, your heart beating rapidly.

“No.” He said again and turned back to his food. You let out a sigh of exasperation and threw your hands up in the air. “I can’t help you if you won’t even try.” You shot out, your words a bit harsh. “I’ve been doing everything for you, Cassian, and the least you could do is walk outside.” He stiffened at your words before standing slowly.

“I said. No.” He spoke again, glaring down at you. You kept your spine straight and leaned forward to whisper with deadly seriousness, “I said. Come.” A heartbeat passed and his fists clenched.

“You’re not in charge of me.” He spat.

“I’m not trying to be ‘in charge’ of you. I’m trying to help you.” You were trying very hard to stay calm.

“I don’t want your help.” Cassian sneered, looking you up and down.

“Tough shit, Cass. I’m not going to give up on you.” You responded, eyes fierce.

He scoffed. “Why does it matter to you? I didn’t ask for you to get me that day. You should have left me there.”

Your vision grew blurry at realizing what he meant. “I would’ve never left you. I love you. I care about you. Everyone does. You’re our family Cassian.”

You didn’t miss the way he rolled his eyes. “I dont care how you feel. All I cared about was her. And she left me. I don’t want to be around anyone, especially not you.”

You opened and closed your mouth, unsure what to say. You knew he was hurting and that it was common for hurt people to hurt people, thought that didn’t take the sting of his words away. You looked at him for a moment before turning and leaving, heading up to the training ring. At least you knew you wouldn’t see him up there.

***

You trained until it was dark, skipping lunch and dinner. You trained until your knuckles were bloody from punching the bags over and over. You trained until you thought your arms were going to fall off. You trained so you didn’t have to think about Cassian. You had no idea what to do with him. You don’t know why Rhys was letting you do this alone. Why no one would come help you. Azriel lives here too, why hasn’t he been around? You were certain he could be more help than you were.

You finally went down to bed, cleaning up and deciding to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Cassian was going through one of the darkest periods of his life, and you were here to help him. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, so why act surprised when it’s hard? Tomorrow you would try a new plan. You fell asleep with a small smile, having realized that an emotion had finally showed up in Cass. Until this morning he had been a void, a shell. Today, he had gotten angry. It was a small victory.

***

The next day, Cassian was already eating when you arrived. He looked up at you and you didn’t miss the way his eyes glanced to your bandaged hands. You grabbed some food, needing all your strength for what you were about to do. Neither of you said anything while you ate, as the meals typically went. When you were done you stood and washed your plate before turning to face Cassian.

“Get up. Wash your dish, and let’s go.” You said, crossing your arms. He looked sharply up at you, saying nothing. “I’m not arguing with you. I’m telling you. Get off your lazy ass and do something with your sorry existence.” His ears reddened and he stood up quickly.

“What did you say to me?” He asked, his voice dangerously cold. You weren’t going to let him scare you, not today.

“I said, let’s go. I get it. Your heart has been broken. Boo fucking whoo Cass, that doesn’t mean you throw your life away.” You stood strong in front of him, not letting the hate in his eyes affect you. The eyes that were slightly less black than the day before.

“You have no idea what it is like. You do not get to stand there and demand I do what you say. There is no life for me, not now.” He said, taking a step closer to you. That intimidation would not work on you, not today.

“Yea, I don’t know what it’s like. But do you really believe your life is over? If that’s what you think, what are you doing here? Why did you even get out of bed?” You raised your hands in front of you, gesturing to the kitchen. Cassian took a step closer, towering over you.

“You. Don’t. Understand.” He grunted out, leaning down to your height. You rolled your eyes.

That was your mistake.

In a split second Cassian had grabbed you by the arm and was dragging you through the house. He brought you to one of the closest balconies and shoved you against it so half your body was hanging over the edge, your arm tucked behind your back. He was pressed up behind you, mouth by your ear. “Look down.” He whispered, using his other hand to tilt your head down, down to see the ground way below. “That’s quite a drop. I could toss you over this without a second thought. No one would hear your scream, no one would come and rescue you. Push me again, and I won’t hesitate to do it.” He spat out, pushing your body so hard into the balcony you couldn’t help the cry of pain you gave.

Then he was gone.

Your whole body was shaking as you stepped away from the edge of the mountain, not stopping until your back hit a wall behind you. You couldn’t do this. Cassian couldn’t be saved. Cassian was dead. Whoever that was, you didn’t know him. You felt the tears come hot and fast, wrapping your arms around yourself. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t do this.

***

You called for Rhys. You called for Feyre. You even tried to find the shadow Azriel usually leaves, hoping to contact him. No one responded. You didn’t know why, you didn’t know why they had abandoned you up here with a male who clearly had no issues killing you. Was this some part of their messed up plan? See how far Cassian would go before he snapped? Would they be able to save you in time?

You cried hard that night. You cried for yourself, for the fear of your safety. You cried for who Cassian used to be, and you cried for the being he was now. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore, and then you cried so hard you threw up. You didn’t sleep at all, the morning coming too fast. You debated hiding in your room to avoid him, before realizing that’s exactly what he wanted. You knew deep down that Cassian wouldn’t hurt you. You could only hope that was true for the monster he currently was. You took a deep breath and got ready, trying to hide the shadows under your eyes and the tear tracks on your skin.

You weren’t going to give up on him. Not when it seemed like everyone else had.

***

You didn’t talk to Cassian at breakfast. You ate quietly and when you were done you simply announced you were going to train and left. You didn’t even look at him.

You trained for the morning, coming back at lunch. Again, you didn’t speak or look at him. When you were finished you announced you were going to read, and he could find you if he needed anything.

Dinner went much the same, except you could feel his eyes on you now. You refused to look at him, not caring about which expression he wore. When you finished you bid him goodnight and went to bed. This started your next plan for him.

***

The following weeks you acted in the same way. Not looking or speaking to him until your meal was over, and only then speaking to let him know where you would be. If showing you cared didn’t work, and trying to demand didn’t work, then you would act indifferent. He could figure it out on his own.

You were beginning to doubt your plan, sitting in the middle of the training ring. You were drawing circles in the sand, having no desire to train today. You were tired of training alone. You were tired of being alone. You were just tired. Your eyes started to droop and you wondered if you should just take a nap right there. It didn’t matter anyway. Nothing was working to get Cassian up here. You laid down in the sand and let your eyes close. You felt the warm sun on your skin, breathing deep. You almost felt at peace for the first time since finding Cass in this very spot. You wished you hadn’t been the first one to get to him. You wished Azriel or Rhys had beat you up here, had taken the role of bringing him back to life.

You were so lost in thought you didn’t notice Cassian enter the ring. You didn’t see the way his eyes looked over you. You didn’t see the small smile on his face as he took you in, your relaxed expression, your hair falling out of its braid behind you, the way your fingers trailed through the sand. You didn’t notice him come lay beside you, closing his eyes as well. You had no idea he was there as a calmness settled over the two of you, sleep welcoming you with wide arms.

***

Your throat was burning when you woke up. You groaned and stretched your muscles. Sleeping under the sun in the sand was probably not your best idea. You had no idea how long you were out. You opened your eyes and slowly sat up. You knew you should go back inside, down to lunch to see if Cassian-

Cassian. Cassian who was laying in the sand next to you. Cassian who was asleep in the sand next to you. Cassian who must have come up, seen you, and decided to stay. Cassian, who looked so beautiful with his hair splayed behind him, the sun shining off his face. He reminded you of the old him, the loving, funny, kind Cassian.

You don’t know how long you sat there and looked at him. A selfish part of you never wanted this moment to end. You weren’t ready to go back to the cruel, sad Cass of the past few months. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached over and brushed some hair out of his face, feeling his soft skin under your fingertips.

His eyes shot open and before you could react he had you pinned under him, a blade against your throat. You couldn’t breathe or move, your eyes wide and panicked as you looked up at him. He pressed the blade in harder, looking ready to kill you. You wiggled an arm free and put your hand over his on the blade, slowly lifting it up. You watched as his expression calmed and then horror took over his face. He jumped away from you, hands up. “No, no I didn’t mean- I didn’t know- I didn’t.” He stuttered, his hands having a slight shake to them. You slowly crawled over to where he was sitting and pulled his hands down into your own.

“It’s okay, Cassian.” You said, squeezing his hands. He looked down at your locked hands, unmoving. “I’m okay. You’re okay.” You whispered soothingly, trying to coax him out of his own head. “I’m here. I’m here and you’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” You continued, holding his hands tight. You felt the first tear hit your hand before you heard his gasping breaths.

Cassian was crying.

You pulled him into your chest and wrapped your arms around him as best you could. You let him cry for what felt like hours. He needed to get all that emotion out, all that pain from today and the past months. You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair, whispering that he was okay and that you loved him. That he was your best friend and you’d do anything for him. That you wouldn’t hold the way he’s been acting against him, no one you knew had been in his spot before. You held him until his breathing began to even out, until his eyes ran dry. You held him until he moved first, pulling away to look at you. You felt your own tears coming as you took him in, as you looked at his eyes. His eyes that were almost entirely back to normal, with just a few bits of black on the edges. You broke into a smile and pulled him back into you, holding him tight. “It’s good to have you back, Cass.” You whispered as his arms wrapped around you too.

***

“Wake up, sunshine!” A voice bellowed through your room, your curtains being thrown open. You blinked in surprise as your eyes focused in on Cassian, who was dressed for training. “We’ve got lots of work to do.” He said, crossing his arms and looking at you still in bed. “Up! Up!” He clapped, coming over and pulling your blankets off of you. You squealed and tried to grab them before he had fully exposed you and the very thin nightgown you were wearing. Unfortunately he was quicker than you. You watched as his eyes dragged over your body, a strange expression on his face. You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach at his gaze.

The moment was broken when he gave a laugh and told you to put something “training appropriate” on before leaving your room.

***

For two months you and Cassian trained harder than you ever had before. He pushed you to your limits and then some, not happy until you almost collapsed at the end of each session. You were glad to do it as you watched the last bits of black fade from his eyes.

It had been half a year since Nesta had rejected the bond. You and Cassian hadn’t seen anyone else since then. You knew you had to talk to him about seeing the others soon, and the likeliness of him seeing Nesta too.

You didn’t want to ruin your happy little bubble quite yet, though.

You smiled as Cassian talked over dinner, explaining the new techniques he was ready to teach you. You loved how excited he got, the way his eyes would light up. Your gaze fell to his mouth as he talked, staring at his lips, wondering how they’d feel against your skin-

No. You had been pushing your feelings for Cassian down for 200 years now, trying to pretend they didn’t exist. When he first saw Nesta you didn’t miss the slight change in him and you knew he would never be yours. Your selfish mind pointed out how Nesta had rejected him, how he was open for the taking, how he could be yours. But no. Cass had a long way to go on his healing journey, and the last thing he needed was you lusting after him.

***

It had been a year. A year since Nesta rejected that bond. Over the past six months you and Cassian had gotten closer and closer. Rhysand had started visiting, Azriel too. Feyre had stayed away at first, wanting to be sure Cassian would be okay seeing her. Seeing the sister of his would-be mate. You were surprised at the way he brushed her concerns off, wrapping her in the biggest hug when she finally came. He told her that she wasn’t her sister, and he would never hold anything Nesta did against her. You felt your heart swell with pride, so different from the Cassian of a few months before.

You had convinced him to leave the House of Wind on a few occasions, flying down to walk the streets of Velaris. You purchased two small chocolate cakes in secret the last time you went, proudly showing them to him when you got back home.

Home. Home was with Cassian now. You loved the life you had created for him, you loved seeing him so full of joy and hope. You would sometimes remember those first dreadful months, the way he looked and the way he acted. That perfect bubble you had created around the two of you was going to end soon. Rhysand had brought up the idea of having a party at the House, a party to welcome Cassian back.

A party that would include Nesta.

You had shot that idea down the second it came out of Rhys’ mouth, eyes burning red. “What are you thinking? Inviting her?” Cassian had laid a soothing hand on your arm, making you look at him. He wore a calm and peaceful expression on his face, and his words shocked you.

“Let her come. I can’t avoid her forever.” He rose a hand to cup your face. “Take it as the last step of my recovery. I’ll have my little savior by my side the whole time.” Heat rose through you at his touch and his words. His little savior, he had taken to calling you. Cassian knew it made you blush, and a part of him enjoyed the pink coloring your cheeks a little too much. You simply nodded, wanting to sink into his hand, into his skin. Sadly he had already pulled away and looked back at Rhys. You gave a small shake of your head, clearing your thoughts and looked to Rhys as well.

You did not enjoy the knowing smirk on his face.

“A party then! We will have it a week from today.” He gave Cassian a broad smile and clapped him on the back. “It’ll be good to have you back, brother.”

***

You felt as though your heart was going to explode. Anxiety coursed through your body, leaving your hands shaking as you tried to button up your dress. You gave a shout of frustration, slamming your hands down on the vanity in front of you. You looked up at your reflection and wished you could put on a brave face.

You were scared. You were scared of Cassian seeing Nesta. You were scared all your hard work this past year was going to be for nothing. You were scared for how she would react. You were scared to see her.

You ducked your head and stared at your perfectly manicured fingers digging into the table below them. You wanted to rip off each nail and throw them out the window. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t care how calm Cassian was about this whole situation. This was wrong. You dug your nails harder into the vanity, trying to force the negative thoughts away. You were about to give up and tell Cassian you couldn’t go, maybe you could be sick, when you heard a knock on your door. You straightened up and took a deep breath to calm your nerves. No, you couldn’t abandon him. Not tonight. He needed you to be strong by his side.

You walked over and opened the door to reveal Cassian. You pushed the door open wider to allow him to come in, closing it behind him. You looked him over, heat coursing through your body as you took him in. He looked delicious. He had on dark dress pants and a button down, a suit jacket thrown over his arm. You had never seen him in anything like this before and it left you embarrassingly speechless. You quickly moved your eyes to his face, trying to hide the way you had been looking at him. The embarrassment disappeared once you saw the way he was looking over you, the way his eyes lingered on your half buttoned dress, his pupils blown.

You could eat him.

Feeling a little daring, you turned your back to him and pushed your hair over your shoulder. “Do you think you could help me? I can’t seem to get it the rest of the way.” You asked, partly to actually get his help, and partly to feel his touch on your skin. Cassian nodded and stepped closer to start buttoning your dress. Goosebumps spread over your skin at his touch, your body betraying your thoughts. You looked up to the mirror in front of you, heart beating at the sight of him behind you. All too quickly the buttons were all done up, and you watched in the mirror as he hands rested at the base of your neck for a moment. You watched as his head lowered and his lips connected to your bare shoulder. It took everything in you to not throw your head back onto him and close your eyes.

Cassian cleared his throat and stepped away, gazing at the two of you in the mirror. “You look…beautiful.” He said, his words thick. You couldn’t help but agree with him as you looked at the navy blue velvet draped over your body. The high neckline wrapped around your throat like a collar, leaving your shoulders and arms bare as it connected to the tight material over your chest and stomach. At your waist it flowed almost dreamlike to the ground, one long slit going up to your hip to show your leg. You watched Cassians eyes in the mirror trail over you, the room feeling a million degrees.

You turned suddenly, pulling the jacket out of Cassians hands. “Come on,” you said, helping him into it, “Let’s get to your party.”

***

You had already found a glass of wine. No, you had found several glasses of wine. You tipped them back one after the other until that pleasant fuzzy feeling filled your body. You grabbed one more and went to find Cassian with Rhys and Azriel, wanting to make sure he was doing okay. He smiled as you joined their little group, an arm coming to wrap around your waist. You decided to act like this was completely normal, leaning into his touch and sipping your wine. You didn’t miss the look that shot between Rhys and Azriel, glaring at them in response. “Whatever keeps him comfortable.” You shot to Rhysands mind, a small nod of confirmation coming from him before he turned to Cassian.

“Are you ready?” He asked, arms out as if to say “We will go when you do.” Cassian plucked the wine glass out of your hands and downed the rest of it, laughing at your cry of disapproval.

“I’m ready.” He said, smiling down at your and tightening his grip on your waist. “Stay with me?” He asked, eyes searching yours. You smiled back at him and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”

***

There she was. Nesta Archeron. As deadly beautiful as always, she was standing in front of you and her rejected mate. You felt Cassians fingers dig into your hip, but he placed a small smile on his face and tipped his head to her. “Nesta. You look well.” He spoke politely, as if they had only ever been casual acquaintances. She looked over the two of you, not missing his arm around your waist.

“As do you.” She responded, just as politely. “You seem…happy.” She gestured to the two of you and you felt your body stiffen, preparing for the undoubtably nasty comment she was going to follow up with. “I am glad.”

You couldn’t hide the shock on your face at not only her words, but also the kind tone she said them in. It seemed Cassian wasn’t the only one who had changed this past year. He smiled at her and looked down at you.

“Yea, I suppose I am.” He said, and there was no hiding the red that colored your cheeks. What was going on? was all you could think, this situation playing out completely different than you thought it would. You felt a hand on your arm and turned to look at Nesta.

“You have always been what he needed.” She said quietly, a shine in her eyes. You nodded at her, still confused on what was happening. She looked up to Cass once more, saying; “Have a good night, Cassian. Enjoy your party.”

And then she was gone.

You looked at Cassian with wide eyes, gauging how he was feeling. You were surprised at his relaxed smile as his hand moved from your waist to grab you hand. “Come with me.” He whispered, pulling you behind him. You felt like you were running after him until he stopped and pulled you out onto a balcony. Onto the balcony. The one he had threatened you on when he was in the deepest part of his anger.

You turned to face him, hands on your hips. “What are you doing?” You asked, frustrated at the way everyone was acting. “Something I should’ve done two hundred years ago.” He replied, coming close to you.

Before you had a chance to respond, his lips were on yours.

Your heart stopped as one arm wrapped back around your waist, the other threading through your hair. You melted into his touch, kissing him back the way you had dreamed of doing for so long. His hand in your hair tilted your head back, allowing him more access to you. You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped you as his tongue slid into your mouth, and you felt on fire when you heard his responding growl of satisfaction.

This was better than anything you had ever dreamed.

He gently moved you until you felt the railing of the balcony against your back. In a second Cassian had flipped you forward, facing out over Velaris just as you had all those months ago. However this time, you felt safe.

Cassian started trailing kisses on your shoulder, undoing the top buttons on your dress so he could kiss up your neck. His hand splashed across your stomach, keeping you tight to him. You let out a pleasured breath at his actions, dipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long.” He growled into your ear, his other hand coming to cup your breast. A shiver ran through your body at his touch, at his words. “Nesta knew it.” He placed another kiss on your neck. “The day she rejected the mating bond, she told me she wouldn’t allow me to chain myself to her, not when my heart belonged to another.” He sucked the skin under your ear lightly, a gasp coming from you. “I was confused at first. I didn’t know what she was talking about.” Another kiss. “And then it was you who came to me that day. And I was so angry.” A sharp bite, your hands grabbing onto the railing in front of you as pleasure shot through your spine. “I was angry that she had seen what I hadn’t. I was angry that you came to save me. I was angry that my heart had betrayed me, had betrayed my mate.” Another bite, the hand on your stomach sliding to find that slit in your dress. “When I dragged you out here that day and pressed you to this balcony just like I am now, I was so full of rage. You were perfect. I gave you chance after chance to give up on me, and you wouldn’t.” Another bruising kiss on your neck, his hand on your hip sliding under the fabric of your dress. “I heard your cries that night, the pleading to Rhys. I begged him to not send anyone. That I would never hurt you, I would never act like that again. I realized the mistake I was making.” His hand found the edge of your underwear, tracing it lightly. You felt his smile against your skin at the small moan of need you gave him, pressing another kiss to your skin. “These past months training with you, i’ve wanted to pin you down beneath me and have my way with you every day.” You arched back into him at his words, begging his hand to slide to where you needed it. “Today, I decided I was done hiding my feelings. I was going to be honest with you.”

His hand came up to angle your head to face him. “I’m in love with you, my little savior. I always have been, from the day I found you fighting for your life on the edges of Court. It’s always been you.” Cassian stared at you, willing you to say something back. You rose on your toes and pressed a light kiss to his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since the day you saved me on the edges of Court.” You whispered against his skin. He gave a small laugh, leaning down to kiss you again. “It seems we have wasted quite some time, then.” He said, before lust took over his eyes.

He leaned you back against the balcony, the hand under your skirt finally sliding to where you needed him. You cried out at his touch, his lips hot against your neck. “Now, i’m going to fuck you on this balcony so all of Velaris knows who you belong to.”

***

Thank you for your patience on this story!!! Please let me know how you feel about it, I kept rewriting it. I appreciate all the feedback so much <3

#acotar #acotar x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #rejected

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 9 months

Note

Ok but imagine 42! Miles with a s/o who's literally the complete opposite of him in terms of aesthetic but she helps him when he's the prowler. Like nobody would expect the sweet, energetic, girl with the "Mabel pines" energy to be the gal in the chair for the prowler and making his weapons and at the same time being his girlfriend. They're a literal force to be reckon with.

Complete opposites but totally work

(I love this and so sorry it took so long but enjoy!)

Mabel Pines!Reader

You guys work very, very well together

I can't even describe it very well but it's like yin and yang

He was absolutely gobsmacked on how smart you actually could be

Because not mean, he thought of you as a sort of airhead for a while

But he actually found it quite cute or adorable on you

But he did find out very quickly that y'all have very, very different aesthetics

To be frank you look like a rainbow threw up on you

While Miles is all gloomy and dark over there

So safe to say you throw some glitter in him and force him to be colorful

He finds it hard sometimes to keep up with your energy

But it good for him

His mama absolutely LOVES you

She sees how much Miles loves you just due to the light you bring into his eyes

You can give this man anything and he will pretend to not like it but raise hell if you try and take it back

You guys proudly watch the news of worried women and men on TV talking about jobs you guys pulled and tryna catch you guys

Y'know those sassy guys we see in Tiktoks?

He's that sassy guy with you when you make him mad or annoyed

Knees facing the other way with his whole body while he side eyes you

But he can't resist you for very long

He actually was quite shocked when he found out you had a little dark side

He always saw you looking on the bright side of things

So you partaking in his Prowler activities, much less MAKING the shit for them, absolutely shocked him

He found it quite hot though I can't lie

You're absolutely right when you're completely different but work so well together

Even Uncle Aaron saw it

He uses you sometimes as a little diversion

A fake damsel in distress might I say

He never actually puts you in danger a you can very much so handle yourself but he's always lurking around the corner in these situations

You are an absolute monster at anything Miles needs

New gloves? Done

New mask? Done

Fucking Ray gun? Why didn't he ask sooner? Here, it's in your bag

You absolutely stick little stickers on his crap as well

You can't help yourself

But he absolutely loves it

You sit in the chair looking all pretty but can turn intimidating real quick as he's sitting on the arm chair

Y'know those scenes where the bad guy asks their "dumb/weird" henchman like

"I have no idea…how about we ask (Name)?"

Those type of scenes and you can come up with the best shit he didn't even think of

Absolutely soul mates

Anyway, enjoy this little scene I made:

Miles breathed heavily, leaning against the wall on the rooftop to the door to go back down to his home. He was dressed as the Prowler, breathing labored from a fight.

Miles tried to breathe the best he could, even succeeding for a moment before his eyes snapped open as he heard the shudder of a phone camera and a flash.

Miles' eyes widened, hand in front of him as the flash died and he saw you standing there, blank faces and camera held out in front of you.

Miles and you stared at one another for a moment, nothing to say at all.

"Is that carbon fiber?" You suddenly spoke up.

"...what?-" Miles blinked, barely able to process this before you almost jumped on him.

"Ooh! How did you make this?!" Miles couldn't even breathe and before he knew, his helmet was in your hands as you went on.

"This material is tough enough but you know I could make a much better one if-" you rambles on, an excitement to your voice Miles knew all to well as you flipped over the mask in your hands

"Wait– hold on." Miles held his arms out, effectively causing a pause in your rant as you stared back at him.

"Y'know who I am…right?" Miles asked, slowly and almost trying to be intimidating.

"Um…the Prowler?" You muttered, utterly confused as you tilted your head, holding the helmet to your chest.

"Yeah?!" Miles exclaimed, eyes wide and hands held out like he was trying to get a point across.

"Mhm. Is this like…a trick question, or…?" You asked, completely unbothered by it all as you looked down at the mask, examining it as you merely glanced up at him.

"No! Just- why are you so calm about this?" Miles asked, shocked as well.

"Well, it's not really shocking. You sorta have the backstory of a villain, anyway." You shrugged, staring dead at him.

"...seriously?"

"Well, kinda. Sorry, is this like a bad time for you?" You asked, still not handing over the mask as you held it over your head, almost trying to put it on.

"No, just, you can't tell anyone about this." Miles said, grabbing the mask to hold it in place and off your head, almost dangerously close to your face.

"I mean, I'm not? But-" you started and Miles almost rolled his eyes at your excited expression.

"I can help you!" You stated, biting your lip in excitement as you almost glowed from the glitter on you.

"Help…me?" Miles raised a brow.

"Yeah! Everyone thinks I'm dumb, but I have dirt on everyone. Everyone. And, not a lotta people notice I'm there so I can get you a lot of info, or like- routes and stuff. I'm also good with my hands."

You went on proudly, Miles looking between you and your hand which held his helmet.

It took a moment, Miles going over it all in his head.

He finally sighed.

Miles opened the door to the stairwell, gesturing inside as your eyes widened in shock before you actually smiled, hurrying inside quickly as you rambled on.

Miles followed after you, a seemingly annoyed expression on his face, but the dust of pink across his cheeks from your smile gave him away.

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

@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @lovelymiaablogss @sussybaka10 @shisuishoe @sairavity @moonlight-rosevine @spectr3inl0ve @najiiix @popeheywardssecretgf @onginlove @sylisan @onginlove

#across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spider verse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #into the spiderverse x reader #miles morales earth 42 x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader

1K notes · View notes

ninthskzmember · 3 months

Text

Sharing is Caring. Part III

Lee Know x reader x Bang Chan (Pt 1.) (Pt 2.)

warnings: smut. smut. smut. and more smut. petnames too. and unprotected sex. word count: 3,2k (I got carried away) an: and with that... the Sharing is Caring season comes to an end... Goodnight. (please don't forget to reblog and like <3). Not proofread

Requests are open! :)

You were so used to your boyfriend's lips that kissing Bang Chan was a whole new experience.

His big lips, soft as feathers, made you feel like you were in heaven. His gentle tongue was playing with yours as his hands threw you further against him and his growing bludge.

"You sure about this?" He whispered in your ear, making you get goosebumps.

"Of course I am." You tried to devour his lips again, but he pulled away abit.t

"Once we're into it, I don't think I'll be able to stop, doll face."

"It's okay, Chris; my partner is Minho, if you don't recall."

"I'm not Minho," an almost scary grin came out of his face.

"Hyung, she said she didn't think she could handle Kim Seungmin," Minho informed funny from the couch in the room.

"Oh, so, Kim Seungmin?" He looked at you.

"She said that, and she chose him at first."

"Owh," he said, making a sarcastic face. "Was I not your first choice?"

"She squirted for the first time ever when I told her about you fucking her deep inside." Your boyfriend was setting up the fire between the two of you.

"Baby girl squirted from the thought of me inside her?" Your breath started to be uneven. He barely even touched you, and you could already feel your panties soaked.

"Lee Minho, I told you. You can't interfere." You looked at your boyfriend sprawled on the couch with his gray sweats and white shirt.

"Oh?" Chan looked surprised. "So it's just you and me?"

"Baby, what did you tell him?"

"I think I said something about a threesome." He looked everywhere but at you.

"So, Oppa, great news to you: We're not having a threesome. Minho just thinks he'd like to see me getting fucked," you smiled at the older one. "So it's just your dick and my pussy… and our mouths too."

"And your hands," your boyfriend added.

"Yeah, and our hands." You nodded.

"No, not hands." Chan took your wrists above your head and pinned you up against the wall.

"Say please?" You joked, but you were actually flustered by his sudden movements.

Chan started working on your neck. Again, it felt different, but you didn't dislike it. It was like changing the routine a bit. Maybe you'd do this with a few other members.

"Chris," you let out a moan the moment you felt his hard cock touch your drenched core.

"You like it?" He let out a cocky smile while looking at you for a few seconds. "I certainly like the hickeys your boyfriend left on your neck. I might leave my own."

"Yes, please," you said, moving your hips, looking for some friction and pleasure.

He kissed you again. A wet, messy kiss. Not like the ones before, this one actually made you realize what you were about to do.

You looked at your boyfriend, scanning the scene carefully. Yes, he had lust in his eyes, but you could also perceive a light amount of jealousy.

"Baby," you called Minho. "You okay?"

"Yes love. Keep on," he said, moving a bit, still giving his full attention to the moment in front of him.

Your body wanted to keep going, but your mind was still wrapped around Lee Know's sight.

You started to get a little clumsy with your movements, and Chris looked at you for a brief second, seeing you eyeing your partner. He turned around and looked at him too, calling him with his eyes as he let go of your wrists.

With no words spoken, Minho stood up and walked towards you both.

"Kitten, it's okay, really." He caressed your shoulder. "I was the one who brought this up; I'm okay with it. I know what's going on in your mind."

"I just… feel guilty," you said as Chan moved a bit away from you.

"Baby, don't be." He took you by your waist and wrapped you in a wild embrace. "If you don't want to do it, it's okay; I'm sure Hyung will understand."

Chan just nodded in silence—kind of uncomfortable, actually—and it's understandable since his dick was fucking strangling in his clothes.

"I want to," you nodded along, looking at both men in front of you. "I just want you by my side," you directed your world towards Minho, and he agreed, letting out a sassy smile.

Chan took position again right in front of you and kissed your cheek softly, making a road down towards your neck and then up again to end kissing your lips.

Minho moved you away from the wall, placing himself behind you and reassuring you by placing kisses on your neck.

"You like how Hyung is kissing you?" He whispered in your ear, "Think about how you'd feel when he eats you up."

By inertia, your butt pressed against his—of course, already hard—dick, and you heard him chuckle. “You said I'd have to beg, yet here you are, pressing your ass on my cock, kitten."

You moaned quietly in between kissing Chris, whom you took by his big biceps and pushed to the mattress.

You climbed onto him, your legs at each side of his hips, and took a seat right on top of his now semi-hard penis. You smiled at the older man and bitted your own lower lip a bit, taking an imaginary picture of him in that position, in that moment.

"You can guide me, sweetheart. I love giving pleasure," you whispered close to Chan's face. "Tell me what you like; tell me what you don't." You moved your hips a bit, experimentally, and he let out a small groan.

Minho pleased himself behind you again, standing. He took your hips and pressed you downward while you moved just a little bit faster, making your arousal stain not only your leggins but also Chan's pants.

"Fuck" the three of you cursed at the same time.

"It's so hot when you do that," said your boyfriend from behind, where it was easy to see the wet patch on his hyung's pants.

"When I do what, baby?" You let out the sluttiest voice you ever heard from yourself, looking at him with your fuck-me eyes.

"You just" he took a breath "You just stained Hyung's pants."

Chris looked down, and his grip became tighter on your thighs.

"That's it" Chan groaned and sat up, taking you by your back to lay you on the mattress. "You go there and sit," Chris demanded to Minho, who did what was told.

"You're so wet, and I barely touched you, baby girl." He pecked you and practically ripped your shirt out, kissing your chest above your bra and your belly.

Started playing with the elastic on your leggings, kissing and biting right above it.

"Chris, please," you moaned.

"Look at you, being all disrespectful just because you're horny," he smiled up at you. "We're not that close for you to call me Chris," he slapped your thigh, and another groan left your body. "Try again."

"Chan, please, I need you." You let out a whine, and he chuckled.

"Nicer, but still not what I'm looking for," he said, pressing a soft kiss on your clothed core.

"Please, please, please." You tried to keep his face in your pussy with your thighs, to which he laughed and stopped you with his hands.

"What do you want, sweety?"

"I want you to touch me, taste me, fuck me," you whined again, moving your hips in the air. He pushed you against the mattress.

"That sounds amazing," he said, taking the elastic of your leggings and pulling them off with a smirk.

You were left with just your black lingerie, and you swore Chris could make his own lip bleed from the force he was biting it with.

"Like what you see?" You smiled. "Wish you could have me anytime you want, huh?" You pressed your arms together, squishing your boobs, and he was practically drooling and nodding.

"Too bad" Your boyfriend made a silly remark, and you smiled at his voice but didn't look at him.

You took the older boy from his shirt, pulling him closer into a kiss. He took it off, and you could feel yourself getting breathless at the view of this man from where you were. You clenched around nothing, watching him flex his muscles to make the movement.

Your legs are wrapped around his waist now, making him closer, and then turning him around. Wasting no time, you took his stained pants off.

All that he was wearing now were his black boxers, and damn did he look hot in those. His dickens were twitching under your hand, and the fabric was practically screaming to be relased.

You got on your knees, taking the last piece of clothing from his body, leaving Chris with nothing but his lust on the bed.

It was the prettiest dick you've ever seen—after Minho's, obviously. His tip was leaking just for you to taste, and you just did what you've not ironically done way too many times before.

The second you tasted his fluid and sucked on him, a loud moan was heard in the room. You made eye contact with the culprit with his dick still in your mouth, and he took you by your hair and nodded.

You sucked his dick like it was the most delicious thing you've ever tasted, and he was frightened not to cum so soon.

"Fuck, y/n," he breathed loudly. "I don't want to cum yet."

"Cum, babe, I want to fully taste you," you answered while still bombing his member. "Your dick is so pretty."

You took him as deep as you could in your throat, gagging around him to trigger his orgasm.

"Oh my fucking god" he sounded desesperated. All the moaning coming from his mouth only made you still clench around air, rubbing your clitoral against your heel. "I'm coming, I'm coming, babe, I'm coming." He whined again and held your head against him as he relaxed his cum inside your throat, letting you suck and taste every little drop.

Once you felt his grip loose, you smiled and looked at him with a smile on your face.

"What?" he asked, smiling the same way you did.

You didn't even say a word; you just took out your tongue and showed almost all his cum there. You could literally see how his eyes sparkled and then got dark the second you swallowed it all without even a flinch.

"Come here," he ordered, and you laid on the bed. He took out your bra as if he had a master in that.

He knew you had sensitive boobs; he talked about it with Minho when this topic came up. His member told him how much you love getting your nipples sucked and played with, so that's just what Chan did. He was sucking so sweetly and gently on your boobs that you forgot about everything.

Again, you wrapped your legs around him and brought him closer. His now flacid dick is rubbing against your completely wet pussy.

"Oh, god," you heard him moan in your boob, making you let out a cheeky smile. "Mate, is she always so hot?" the man asked your boyfriend, and after a while, you looked at him.

Minho was all messed up. In his eyes was pure lust, completely dark. He was all sweaty, and his hair was glued to his forehead. His shirt lifted just enough to see a wet spot in his gray pants.

"Babe, did you cum in your pants?" You smiled while looking at his crotch.

"In my defense, I was pretty good until you started deepthroating him," he excused himself, and you laughed out loud.

"Imagine when he's got me in all fours and fucking me deep inside from behind." You winked at your man but, actually, turned both of them on again.

"You liked that thought, huh?" Chan captured your attention again. "You clenched, baby girl. I felt it," he said, and he started kissing you again after a while.

He reached down with one hand and started circling your clit delicately.

"Oh shit," you groaned at the touch.

"You like that?"

"Yes," you breathed out.

"You like that, huh?" he smiled at you knowingly.

"Yes, daddy," you quoted Felix, and a loud scream from Minho took place in the room.

"Un-fucking-believable" He gasped, "She doesn't even call me daddy."

"Because, mate, that's me." As soon as he said the last word, not only did he slide one finger inside you, but two.

You were obviously wet enough to take it, but the loud moan you let out left both men in silence. "Chan, please." You started pleading again.

"Wrong again, princess," he said, taking one out.

"Daddy, please," you said, moving your hips towards him and your head against the pillow.

"That's more like it," he smiled, taking off your pants with his other hand. He reached down and started eating you up.

If his kisses on your upper lips made you feel like you were in heaven, the feeling of him eating your pussy sent you through heaven, hell, space, and beyond.

You weren't able to hear, see, or feel anything else than the pleasure he was making you feel right now. In your ears, there was only white noise, and you couldn't bring yourself to anything.

He was eating your cunt like it was his last meal, while his nose kept rubbing your clit. The next thing you know, you're shaking with his face in between your thighs. He introduced two fingers again, touching your sweet spot from inside, and there it was, squirting all over the bed once again.

"Oh my fucking god, babe," Minho said in a high-pitched voice.

"That's so fucking hot, y/n," he said as he kept fingering you through the last of your high.

Once it was done, you just laid there, catching your breath for a minute.

"You're perfect" Chan said by your side, moving the hairs that were glued to your face, "You're so yummy, I'd eat you anytime."

"Too bad," Lee Know repeated, and you laughed again while looking at him.

"What is your dick doing out?" You asked him, raising your eyebrow, "That was not part of the deal." You weakly got up and walked towards him.

"I just, babe, I…"

"No, Lee Minho," you said, sitting right on top of him, moving your hips delicately since you were still sensitive from the orgasm. "You're in so much trouble now," you said, rubbing your lips together.

Chris was looking at both of you and analyzing whether watching instead of participating was as interesting for him as it was for Minho.

"How many times did you come?" you asked.

"Two," he answered, "once in my pants, and then when you got all high-pitchy and moany."

"And that's not fair for me or for your Hyung; you know that, right?" You asked and started kissing his neck, at the exact points where you know it drives him insane.

"You're making me hard again," he said, avoiding the question.

"I know that," you answered quickly.

"I'm not begging."

"Then don't" You kissed him passionately as he grabbed your waist and guided you through your ride.

While your man was busy with your kiss, you called Christopher with your hand to walk over to you both.

You took Minho's dick and placed it in your entrance, almost sliding in, and moved like that a few times. He looked at you with the most deadly look he ever gave you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, babe," you smiled and slided him inside you, but just the tip and then got him out again.

"Don't make me pin you down, kitten," he said, grabbing his own dick and aligning it with your pussycat.

You smiled and got up, taking Lee's wrists on top of his head and leaning over to him, letting Chris have you all for himself.

He did not doubt himself once and slid himself inside you.

A brand new feeling, a brand new stretch.

"Oh my god, you're huge," you moaned as your boy's friend Dick was getting inside.

"I've been told," he said, a bit out of breath. "You're so tight."

"I've been told," you said this time.

"Wait a minute; she stretches really well."

"You shut your mouth," you said between teeth. "Move; you feel so nice inside, Daddy."

Minho flexed his muscles, looking you straight in the eye. You really never called him that.

"Oh god, babe, he's making me feel so good," you said while Chris started pounding you from behind, making your boobs jump in front of Minho's face.

You started letting out every single sound you wanted to make, knowing that your boyfriend gets turned on by them.

Soon, between nasty words, moans, and a bit of 'accidentally' rubbing Minho's dick with your legs, you could hear him moaning with you two.

"Chris, daddy, I'm close. Don't stop," you whined, and he kept doing exactly what he was doing.

"Jagi," your boyfriend called you, and you hardly opened your eyes to look at him with a pleading look.

"I can't, Lee Know, he's making me feel so good; it's going to take way more from you to let him go."

Chris slid his hand on your throat and pressed just enough for you to feel an electric wave through your body. And you did the same thing to the one who was sitting, hearing a groan from him and feeling a buzz in the palm of your hand.

"We need to be even," you said out of nowhere. "Just let me cum once more, babe." It was your sub-side talking shit; you were so used to being under Minho's control that you were asking permission to come again.

"I'm going to cum," Chan said, moaning, breathless.

"Come inside," you said, pulling your hips backwards.

"Y/n, I don't think… I…" he stuttered.

"Please, daddy, please, please." You kept repeating it and pulling your hips

"Fuck," he let out a big groan, and you felt it. You felt his warm cum fill you up, and you felt how it was so much more than what you swallowed.

"Oh my god." You rolled your eyes. "A bit more, please," you whined, and he kept moving inside you and touching your clit just to make you explode again.

You slid Chan's cock out of you just to penetrate yourself with your boyfriend, making him feel how hard and tight you were clenching.

"Do it, babe, please," you whined at your boyfriend this time, and he started thrusting at you, touching your g-spot repeatedly.

"I love you so much," he said in your ear, and it was enough for you to let out all that liquid again, squirting around your boyfriend, who just kept going in and out, looking for his own release.

It only took a few seconds because your twitches were so hard and stimulative.

"I love you too," you said while he let out his cum inside you too.

The three of you lay in bed in silence for a few minutes.

"So… Kim Seungmin?" You said it quietly.

"You're NOT calling him daddy," your boyfriend said quickly, and Chan let out a laugh.

This is definitely not the last time this is going to happen.

Bonus

taglist: @httpswilloww

#skz #skz imagines #stray kids #lee know #stray kids x reader #skz smut #bang chan #lee know imagines #minho x y/n #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bangchan smut #bang chan smut #bangchan x reader #minho x reader

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klemen-tine · 4 months

Text

Glass Bones and Paper Skin

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

More Platonic Bruce x Reader than Batfam, but they are mentioned and will have a bigger role in the future.

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

Just a reminder for everyone, your bodies are perfect and beautiful! Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

Part 2

Part 3

Blinding lights and hundreds of eyes are enough to thwart people from the runway. It makes people stumble, trip, or even run from it. Their mind focuses on if they mess up, the world will see. Their managers, agencies, everyone will forever refer to it when they ask them to walk for them again.

They focus on their walk, the way the clothing either hugs or drapes off their bodies, how the shoes don’t fit, the way their hair is styled, and how the makeup can burn. They try not to focus on how their stomachs ache, how the heels cut into the thin skin on their feet, and that everyone in this room that is dressed and prepped, are equally or more or less beautiful than them.

Y/N L/N seemed to be the topic of conversation at all of these events. A newer runway model who has been eating it up. From their first runway debut to this one, they have always left people in awe and dropping to their knees for more. It is hard to believe that they are only 18. Y/N has been a photoshoot model since 15, but on their birthday when they turned 18, they finally agreed to their agency’s desire to make them take on the runway.

It was the best choice for their career. Y/N’s manager was the daughter of their mother’s manager, back when she was alive and used to do modeling. Her manager threw her own daughter at Y/N, and stated that they were the best people to work with because they know Y/N. Whether Y/N was cursed or not –they have yet to figure that out– has nearly the same exact features as their mother and the same ‘air.’ One that demanded everyone to pay attention to them, and is a natural for posing and had a natural strut.

They’ve been right, and Y/N doesn’t know if it is because of them that they all made it this far. They knew what looked best on Y/N and what wouldn’t work. They knew which designers would adore them and which designers wouldn’t fit.

Those who know Y/N though understand that the ‘air’ was only on the runways and photoshoots. Y/N is actually a very demure person, while not a wallflower, they were someone who could blend in the crowd.

Alfred once told them that every country should be grateful to not have Y/N working against them, because Y/N can just disappear.

“Y/N, are you ready?” They smiled at their fellow models, slipping into the person of Y/N L/N, child of M/N L/N and Bruce Wayne, and nodding, “Of course. When am I not?”

Cheryl whistled, a fellow model that has been Y/N’s mentor in some way, walking around Y/N and smiling, “Designers sure know how to dress you up. I think almost every runway walk has had your hips on display” Y/N chuckled at her, “It’s because of these hips dips. You can probably drink soup out of them.”

“If it was ice cream I’d be down, but not soup.” Jon was another model who has been in the scene for a long time. He was a handsome man with a diamond face.

“Models get ready.” A shuffling of feet and high heels clip clopping sounded in the backstage, and Y/N took their place in front of everyone. They will be the one opening the show today, an honor that the 18-year-old took gratefully.

Opening a show was a big deal, setting the tone for the show in general and also the tempo. Y/N took a deep breath, and at the cue, their mind went blank as they began walking. Their eyes focused on the end camera, and the walk on beat to the music. Once at the end, they looked directly into the camera and struck a pose. Highlighting the slit hips and underboob design, showing off the almost sheer fabric that had the slightest hint of shimmer in them. A statement piece.

Turning around they walked back to where they emerged from, making sure they kept their face in control for the last camera. However, a sight at the corner of their eye momentarily broke them out of their blank space. Five familiar people that should not be here. Sitting in the front row, wearing nice tuxedos, and almost making Y/N stumble.

Almost. Controlling their features, Y/N returned their focus to the camera and disappeared in the entrance they emerged from. Smiling at all the 'congratulations’ ‘you looked great,’ ‘you look beautiful,’ they went back to their manager, Maya, and whispered, “I need you to confirm five people in the front row on the left side. They are four chairs down from the camera.”

Maya nodded, scurrying away and without a doubt checking it out. Y/N could feel the curiosity and dread build in their stomach. If they are who Y/N thinks they are, then the after party is going to be interesting.

“What’s wrong?” Jon wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, bringing Y/N out their thoughts, “Nothing really. Just thought I saw some familiar faces.” Jon made a weird face, but dropped the issue when another model, Logan, strolled on over.

“Did you see them?”

“See who?”

“The Wayne family! They are in the front row!” Y/N closed their eyes in misery and a headache began forming. They saw Maya running back, her face pale and a large frown on her face. Jon glanced at Y/N, taking in the annoyed expression and scrunched nose, “Hmm, no I didn’t. I was too focused on looking at the camera, Logan.” She rolled her eyes, “Oh, it was only a second.”

Jon and Y/N gave each other a dry look, remembering the last time Logan had said that and somehow the camera managed to snap a photo when she was oggling at someone. Y/N shook their head, “I momentarily saw them, but I didn’t think it was them. Do you think I can get the oldest son’s number?”

‘You’re not his type.’ Y/N thought but didn’t say, shrugging and smiling in amusement, “Logan, what would your girlfriend say?” The model stuck her tongue, “She’d ask to join.” Before Logan could say anything else, Cheryl waltzed over, “Stop being inappropriate, there’s a kid present.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, if you can’t drink yet you can’t have this conversation.” Y/N made a face, “That’s the stupidest sense of logic I have ever heard.” Everyone laughed at them, clapping Y/N’s shoulders and helping each other fix their wardrobes. Some stylists came over to fix their makeup and hair just in case. Everyone was getting ready for the last walkthrough, and honestly, Y/N was dreading it.

As the front runner of it all, Y/N’s face will be seen by the now confirmed Wayne family and Y/N isn’t confident in themselves enough to not make a face.

The show will be closing soon and then there is the afterparty that all models are expected to attend. It's a networking place, where other designers, brand ambassadors, and just people who are rich enough to get a ticket can talk to the models and try and recruit them. Its a place and time to mingle for those who have an open schedule and unfortunately, Y/N has an open fucking schedule.

This was their last show in Paris, and then they have one destination and then it will be done. Runway season will be officially over and then it will be smaller gigs and back to the every now and then runway.

“Models get ready!” Y/N took a deep breath and fixed their face, eyes forward and chin up.

‘I’ll call Alfred when I get home.’

+++

‘I want to go home.’ Y/N nursed the drink in the flute, filled with sparkling cider instead of champagne. They stood off to the side, changed out of the clothes they wore on the runway, and instead in a deep-v top and leather pants. Still dressed to impress, but at the moment they just wanted to curl up and go away. Y/N’s hotel room has a bathtub in it and Y/N really wants to just sit down in hot water and relax.

Y/N was constantly scanning the crowd, moving further against the wall whenever they saw black hair and blue eyes.

Maya said one more hour, then it will be acceptable to leave. She was doing all the talking and networking for Y/N, trusting that when it came to meet the designers Y/N will charm them enough to want to have them keep coming back. Sighing once more, Y/N took a longer sip and wished to be home.

Something moved the hair near their ear, and Y/N almost threw their glass at whoever it was until they caught sight of blue eyes and black hair, staring at and analyzing them.

“Tim…”

“Hello, Y/N.” Y/N gave a practiced and polite smile, “Odd to see you here.” Tim shrugged, “Seeing that the designer is friends with Bruce, and told us of your show and that you will be leading the walk, of course we had to come.” Y/N nodded, “In Paris?”

“Where else? You’re next one is in New York right?” Y/N gave a polite chuckle, “Since when did you pay attention to fashion week?” Tim took a sip of champagne, “Since my younger sibling decided to run off and become a model.”

Y/N took a sip of the sparkling cider, not missing the way Tim was eyeing them with interest and curiosity. They smiled against the rim of the flute, “ ‘Run off’ huh. I don’t think those are the words I would use. I never hid it and I didn’t pack my bags in the middle of the night and sneak through a window.” Y/N set the empty flute down, still smiling politely at Tim who was still watching them, “I simply walked out the front door and no one stopped me.”

“Y/N–”

“Y/N! There you are!” A tall woman, hair dyed a shade-off from white gray and wearing the crispest red suit, strolled over. Y/N gave a larger smile, opening their arms and welcoming the hug, “Ms. Gabbana, you look lovely as always.” The woman laughed, “That’s the botox. Anyways, you looked so amazing opening the show!”

Tim was quickly forgotten as Francesca Gabbana, an Italian high-end fashion designer and luxury brand owner, chatted away with Y/N. Her presence called forth other designers and models and soon enough, Y/N was entrapped in a small group talking about the next runway show next week.

They talked about the dreaded flight to New York, and where they will be staying. It will be Francesca’s show next week, along with some other high end designers. Francesca seemed particularly excited for Y/N’s, and when Y/N first saw the design, they had to hold back the shivers.

“Right, Y/N you’re from Gotham aren’t you? Will you be visiting your family?” With the attention all on Y/N, they smiled tightly and shrugged, “We’ll see. They are always so busy so I think it's best if I don-”

“I hope Y/N visits, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.” A large hand clapped Y/N’s shoulder, and from the facial expression everyone was making, Y/N knows who it was. Peeking up through their lashes, Y/N could see Bruce’s smile on his still handsome face.

Cheryl was the first to recover, her eyes narrowing slightly, “How… how do you know each other?” Y/N glanced at Bruce, who right now is Brucie, and before he could say anything Bruce gasped, “Y/N, you haven’t said anything?” The young adult shrugged, “It never came up. Bruce Wayne is my father.”

The room erupted, and Y/N actually wanted to go die in a hole. What proceeded afterwards was the most intense questioning for the next two hours.

++++

“Bruce, why are you here?” Y/N asked over dinner. He tossed the crouton around in his salad, waiting for his father’s response. They have never had a 1 on 1 meal together. It was alway family meals, and even then Y/N rarely showed up for those. There was no need too. They never noticed when Y/N was there or not.

The Billionaire playboy shrugged, “Is it wrong to see my child open a highly sought after show?” Y/N chuckled, “No, but you have never shown any interest in this before.” Y/N never hid his modeling gigs. Often using the family weight room to keep in shape and also turned one of the unused offices into a strut practice room when Y/N lived in the manor. Hours and the amount of money spent to ensure their skin was perfect and their hair was nice, and that they looked beautiful.

Y/N never hid their modeling job, even as a teen, and yet the only one who seemed to notice was Alfred.

“You never said anything.”

“I didn’t think I had too.” Y/N can recall trying to show Bruce, Dick, Jason, anyone that would bother to look, a photo of them making it onto Vogue. Not the cover, not yet, but as a newer model within the prestigious magazine. They made it at 16. 16, and only modeling for a year! Francessca had them in a piece that was first page worthy, and it fit Y/N like it was meant for them.

Alfred was the only person to look at the magazine Y/N held open with their trembling hands, and ruffle their hair and congratulate them.

“You didn’t even tell Alfred where you are living.” No, because Y/N doesn’t want Alfred showing up unexpectedly and seeing the almost empty fridge. The thought of the older man’s disappointed look and inquisitive questions would have Y/N breaking down crying.

“Hmmm, I’m always moving around so I didn’t want him showing up when I am not there.” Bruce nodded, taking a bite of his lobster, and watching Y/N take a small bite of the salad. Y/N swallowed with great difficulty, “Bruce-”

“Since when does a child call their parents by their first name?” Y/N sucked their teeth, “The only one who calls you ‘father’ is Damian.”

“You used to.” Y/N shrugged, “You never seemed comfortable with me calling you that.” Bruce rarely answered when Y/N called him ‘dad’ or ‘father,’ and yet he alway responded when someone else called for him. Y/N would watch from afar as Bruce came running to them in need, but when Y/N needed help they had to figure it out on their own.

At some point Y/N stopped calling for Bruce entirely, running and calling only to Alfred.

Y/N is not mad about it. They never were. Dull E/C eyes accepted it and pushed forward, watching the explosive fights, the angry words, and the silent apologies. Alfred’s words affirming that they all loved each other, despite everything saying otherwise. Y/N watched, and continued to watch as they focused on themselves when Y/N began making a name for themself.

They’re not mad. Y/N never was. Hurt? Maybe, but not mad. That is just their hand in life. Besides, it made the modeling career easier. No need to worry about missing any events, Y/N wouldn’t be invited even if they had lived there. Holidays weren’t huge, nor were birthdays. The only one Y/N sent a card to was Alfred.

It made traveling easier. There was no such thing as homesickness. It made taking more gigs easier, more destructive behavior easier to handle.

“Y/N,” Bruce called to him and Y/N paused while eating. Raising an eyebrow in question as Bruce set down his own eating utensils. Ocean blue met E/C, and Y/N tried to place the emotion in those blue eyes.

“For what it is worth, I… I am sorry about the neglect you have faced within our home.” Y/N’s mind stopped functioning and they stared at Bruce in shock. The man either ignoring him or not realizing that Y/N was staring at him continued.

“You… you didn’t deserve that, especially when you were grieving and that fact that I could not see that shows my fail–”

“Wait wait wait!” Y/N held their hands up, cutting off Bruce, “What are you talking about?” Bruce stared at Y/N with questions in his eyes, and blinked in shock when he saw the genuine confusion in his child’s eyes. Y/N looked floored, “Bruce… I-I… what?”

Bruce knows he’s not a good parent. He is intimately aware of his failings and shortcomings, and how some of them haunt him. They claw into his skin, his mind, and chest as a reminder of all the times he has failed his children. He and Dick barely started talking, Jason and him are slowly mending that bridge, and Tim and Damian seem to hate each other and Bruce doesn’t know what to do about that. It seems the only children he hasn’t officially fucked over are those that aren’t even his.

Then there’s Y/N. A child of his genetic makeup, just like Damian, only Y/N’s mother was a model Bruce had treated as a hookup whenever she was on the east coast. Y/N was 13 when they came into Bruce’s care, older than Damian and a few years younger than Tim. Their mother was caught in a drug-use scandal, one that cost her her career and then her life. Her choice left behind a traumatized child, walking in on the body as she decomposed in their bathroom. They had been forced to pack up their bags and move across the country to live with a parent that they only heard about once or twice.

Bruce somewhat knew of Y/N. He knew that Y/N’s mother had been pregnant, but when he asked if she wanted child support, the woman huffed and said ‘no thank you.’ Her income was enough, as a high in demand supermodel, and she didn’t need Bruce’s ‘pity’ money.

So, he never sought after her and she never phoned him.

Until CPS called and told him of the news and the now homeless 13-year-old child he was now in charge of.

Y/N and him never really connected, and Bruce wonders if some of that is his own fault. He was always too busy with Batman, then his drama with Dick, and Jason’s whole dying thing, the persona of Brucie Wayne, then there was Tim, then Jason coming back from the dead thing, then Barbara’s whole Joker incident, then Damian….

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t too busy, he just never made time for Y/N. Which, the other never seemed to complain about. If they did complain to Alfred, the butler never said anything, and neither did their brothers. Y/N was just a ghost living in the manor that showed up for meals because it was expected, and then… left.

Now he sits here, across from his child who doesn’t seem to understand the wrong done to them by not only Bruce, but the rest of the family.

“Where did this come from?” Bruce doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it was because of Alfred that Bruce and the family finally realized what was wrong. The tour of Y/N’s old room, still kept clean due to Alfred’s insistence, but instead of clothes on the ground and signs of life within the room, it had photos of Y/N's past modeling gigs. Hundreds of photos, some framed, some not, as they covered the walls. Magazines that had Y/N on the front cover, magazine pages that had Y/N taking up the entire page.

The tour of the room-turned-practice room. Full of mirrors, and a 4 inch wide ply board used to practice walking. The shoes that were hidden in the closet, some too big and some too small. Blood staining the heel area of most of them as the image of Y/N practicing until and through the blisters filled all their heads.

The meal regime, still written hastily down on the post it notes, and the exercise routine that didn’t match the calorie intake. The broken mirrors in Y/N’s closets and the clothes that now looked like they would be too big on the present-day Y/N that is sitting in front of Bruce.

The written blogs, printed and folded in one of their drawers, relating them back to their mother. Accusing them of the same thing they accused M/N. Highlighting Y/N’s faults, Y/N’s mistakes, Y/N’s features, and Y/N’s heritage.

‘Child of drug-abuser model M/N L/N, Y/N L/N using the same drug?’ A 15-year-old Y/N posed in a way to show their figure was the picture that was used.

‘Child of famous model M/N L/N able to hold up to the heat?’ Another photo of a 16-year-old Y/N looking exhausted as they walked out of a building. Eyes red and bags under their eyes.

‘Beauty genes skipped a generation.’ Y/N is 17 in that photo.

‘Y/N M/N will never be as beautiful as M/N L/N without extensive work.’ Y/N is 15 again in this photo. They had kept every critique, every mean and poorly written article about them, and kept them. Some of them were tweets, printed instagram photos, and magazines.

Bruce could see the drastic changes in Y/N throughout the photos. The strict lifestyle changes affected their appearance and made them look even more like M/N. The Y/N in front of him, still beautiful, but Bruce knows the thoughts behind the perfect skin and perfect hair.

It would seem that one of the things Y/N inherited from Bruce would be the internalizing of every little bad thing to happen, and deny that it has affected them while they wore the scar of it on their sleeves.

“Bruce, you didn’t neglect me. I had food, clothes, a manor… where did you get all of that from?”

“Emotional neglect is still neglect.” Y/N still looked confused, setting their fork down and controlling their expression as they processed that. Okay, so yeah maybe Bruce wasn’t an attentive father, but the man never hit Y/N. He never said anything about Y/N that Y/N would have to go to therapy for. Besides, Bruce’s lack of attention paved the way for Y/N to do this!

Y/N’s lips formed a serene smile, “Bruce, I’m not mad that you didn’t pay attention to me. You were busy with your company, you are legally a dad of five kids, not everyone is going to get the same attention.” They took a sip of the water, hoping the conversation would end there.

“It wasn’t that I was busy, I just never made time Y/N… and for that I am sorry.” Y/N hates this. Absolutely hates this. All of their excuses for Bruce are being shot down by Bruce himself and it was leaving Y/N feeling a little raw. Wounds they didn’t even know about now being rubbed with salt.

Y/N stuck their tongue in their cheek and looked around, before smiling once more, “Bruce, I am literally giving you a way out for your guilt, which I still don’t understand why you’re feeling guilty, so why aren’t you taking it?

“What are you hoping to do?” Bruce stared into E/C eyes and he could see the irritation in them. He set his fork and knife down, and leaned forward, “Is it wrong to try and mend broken bridges?”

“The bridge was never broken in the first place.”

“You’re right, and that’s because there was never a bridge in the first place.” Y/N cocked their head to the side, watching with an intense expression. Those E/C eyes flickering around, taking in the restaurant and narrowing their eyes, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but did you rent out the entire restaurant?”

“I did. So we can talk freely.”

“The other ‘customers’ are Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian.” Bruce nodded, “Family dinner.” Y/N’s smile held no amusement, “You know, if you were anybody else I would be thinking this is a way for you to slide back in my life in hopes you could get some of my paycheck. But what is a model’s paycheck to Bruce Wayne’s?” Bruce chuckled, “You are making quite a bit. I’m happy you're conscious of your position now.”

Y/N sipped the water, “How do you know how much I’m making?” Bruce only smiled and continued eating. He watched his child contemplate asking the question again, but then decided to drop it.

‘Smart.’ Y/N continued to watch him, no longer touching the food and seeming unwilling to even look at the dessert menu.

“You’ll visit when you’re back in the states, right?” It didn’t feel like a question. In fact, it felt more like a demand poised as a question to keep intentions hidden. Y/N gulped, “I’ll try.”

“You should, Alfred misses you. Besides, Manhattan, New York isn’t too far from Gotham.” It was such an innocent sentence. One spoken with a smile on his lips and kind sky blue eyes. An innocent sentence, except Y/N has never once told them where they live.

“A beautiful place, I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave. With windows like those and that giant skylight, it is truly a wonderful place befitting a top model such as yourself.” Y/N’s mouth went dry, and they could feel the sweat on the back of their neck as they continued to stare at Bruce. Their instincts implore them to go along with this.

Urging them to carry on the conversation as they felt the gazes of four others on their back. They gave a wobbly smile, “Ye-yes. I really love it, I am super lucky that I managed to have enough saved up, and that I make enough to own a beautiful home such as that.” Bruce nodded, “As an apology for all the missed birthdays and Christmases, I decided to help out a bit.”

“...Excuse me?” Bruce ignored them, and instead looked at their plate that was still untouched from when Y/N had put down the utensils. He took a bite, “Do you not like your food? I can get something else made for you.”

“N-no, I’m-I’m just full.” Bruce’s eyes narrowed before making a show of shrugging it off, “If you insist. Do know Alfred will want to feed you when you visit.” Y/N’s smile was becoming hard to maintain, “It was a pleasure to have dinner with you, Bruce, but I have to go. Long flight tomorrow and I need to be ready for next week.” Y/N fished out their credit card, but Bruce stuck his hand out, “Don’t worry about it, dinner has been paid for.”

Y/N didn’t fight, only nodding and smiling pleasantly, “I suppose I will see you next week?” Bruce stood up, and brought Y/N into a tense hug. Feeling the bone and sinewy muscles in his rough hands. Y/N’s top is open back, exposing the shoulder blades and some of Y/N’s spine. Each one a small knob against skin, looking like the Rocky Mountains.

“Safe flight, Y/N. See you at the shows next week.” Y/N gave a tight smile and quickly left. The four other pairs of eyes never left their back, and when finally in the safety of the streets, Y/N pulled out their phone and checked their Mortgage app.

‘Successfully Paid!’ In bright green letters, bolded as if it were a game.

It’s been paid off. Y/N now owed nothing on that house, and while that might have been freeing, it meant someone could now have access to their mortgage account. An alert sounded on their phone, and when Y/N saw that it was their bank account, notifying them of a deposit Y/N felt the breath leave their lungs.

A large sum, one that had Y/N blinking at the amount of 0’s, was just deposited to their checking account. Right under their bill for walking on that runway.

‘Shopping money, for when you visit.’ - Dick

They have access to their bank account. Y/N’s family, because while Bruce was a solitary kind of guy he never was one to withhold information from his former Robins, now had access to their account. They could see what they were spending money on.

They know where Y/N lives. From the sounds of it, Bruce was even in the penthouse. Y/N covered their mouth and tried to stifle a sob, the feeling of an invasion of their privacy weighing heavy in their chest.

++++

Y/N stared at the article of clothing with anxiety. When Francesca had first shown them the clothing, it had only caused slight discomfort. Now, now that Y/N knows that their family is here, and watching, the clothing had felt like it was a metal ball. Francesca stood next to them, admiring Y/N’s hair and makeup, and how it all looked with clothing item.

“I knew this would look great on you. As a Gothamite, this must feel great right? To be wearing the symbol of your City’s greatest vigilante.” Y/N swallowed down the bile, “He’s typically seen as the boogeyman, but yes. I suppose it does feel odd wearing the symbol.”

The piece of clothing was quite scandalous, a bat symbol made out of gold rest across their chest, attached to a black silk fabric and lace. It hugged their body, bringing out the hip dips and long legs, as well as exposing their toned stomach.

“Why didn’t you say anything about you being Bruce Wayne’s kid?” Francesca asked, and Y/N could only shrug, “Just… it just never came up.” Y/N loves that Francesca drops that. There are tons of models who have family issues. Y/N’s are minor.

Not worthy of anything.

“Y/N, for what it is worth, I do think you are a one in a century model. No one has taken to the runway quite like you have. I think if you had started the runway earlier you would already be a supermodel.” Y/N smiled at Francesca’s kind words, and they wondered just how they got so lucky to have befriended her.

“Thank you.”

“Models get ready!” Y/N took to the back of the line, being offered to close the show just after they had opened one. Another prestigious offer that Y/N gratefully took. Sighing heavily, they watched as the line grew shorter and the sound of cameras flashing and grew louder.

Taking a deep breath, they steeled their breathing and controlled their expressions. Blocking out the world in the way they do best, strutting. The intensity of the flashes increased, and Y/N made a show of keeping their face neutral.

Just how Batman does.

They made a point to not look at the people in the front row. When they made it back behind the entry way, there was no time to catch their breath. They were ushered back into line for the final walk out, and Y/N wonders if they can all see how pale Y/N is. Can they see the sweat on their brow or the fact that their E/C eyes are terrified?

“You did great Y/N!”

“Looking beautiful Y/N.”

“C’mon Y/N, after this its a party!”

No, no they can’t see it because they are all focused on what Y/N wants them to be focused on. Y/N has spent countless hours into ensuring they loook beautiful without makeup, and ethereal in it, no one will care about their inner thoughts and turmoils.

Y/N strutted to the music one last time, focusing on the flashing light and hoping that the photos they captured showed exactly what Y/N wants them to see. Once they were in the back, the models stripping and changing into comfortable clothes and all of them getting ready for the afterparty, Y/N stayed seated. The pads of their fingers running against the cold metal that was in the shape of a bat across their chest as their makeup artist and hairstylist undid all of their work.

Francesca smiled, “You were great Y/N, I knew you would be the right person to pull this off.”

“Thank you, what inspired this piece if you don’t mind me asking.” Francesca smiled, “Oh, I got a call actually. It was just a call to run the idea by me, but I loved it so much that I accepted it.” Y/N furrowed their brow, “A call?” They began to strip out of the clothing, but Francesca’s startled look made them pause.

“...What?”

“You’re not going to keep it on?” Y/N gave a confused look, “We don’t keep clothes, Francesca.” The stylist smiled, “Well, no. But Y/N, that was a commission for you.” Y/N stared at Francesca with a new found fear, and their mouth going dry as they processed it all.

“Who… who did you say the call was from?” Francesca beamed, “Your father, who by the way I am offended you didn’t say anything about, Bruce Wayne.” Large hands clapped their shoulder, and Y/N would have shouted if it weren’t for the familiar smell of cologne.

Turning around, they met Bruce’s blue eyes, and the blue eyes of their siblings. All of them dressed to the nines and eyeing the clothes.

“Truly a wonderful piece, Ms. Gabbana. I could not thank you enough.”

“Of course! Thank you for the idea!” Y/N felt their breath quicked when Dick’s hands gripped their wrist, and gently tugged them in his direction, “C’mon Y/N, you’ll be late to dinner. Alfred is making your favorite.”

“At least let them change, Dick.”

“Todd is right, a drive in that would be difficult. Not to mention that it is snowing outside.”

“Y/N, we have some clothes for you. They should be more comfortable then the clothes you came in.” Y/N couldn’t even say anything as they were dragged away, Bruce keeping Francesca busy while their brothers pushed them into a changing room. Dick smiling gently as he passed the bag of Y/N’s clothes, taken from their penthouse, into Y/N’s trembling arms.

“Bruce paid for that outfit, so try not to ruin it, okay? We’ll be waiting out here for you.” Dick booped their nose, and left Y/N alone in the changing room taht only had a curtain for a door. With trembling hands, they searched the bag for their phone. They have to call someone. Cheryl will help them. So would Jon. Maybe even Maya! Y/N just needs to call–

“Y/N, we have your phone out here, so don’t panic.” Y/N bit their lip to stop themself from sobbing. One thing. They just want one thing to go right today.

A knock sounded on the wood that was hoolding the curtain, “Y/N, do you need help?”

“N-no! No, I’m just try-trying to be gentle with the piece.” Bruce hummed, “Well, try and hurry. Alfred is excited to see you and is expecting us for dinner in three hours.” Y/N gulped, carefully stripping and putting on the sweats and hoodie. Clothes that still smell like their laundry detergent and shoes Y/N knows were in their closet.

‘Dear God.’ They whimpered as they slipped on the comfortable pair of shoes, and bagged the shoes from teh show, and carefully picked up the article of clothing. The gold bat symbol shining mockingly at them.

The curtain pulled open, and like a horror photo, the light from behind them casted and eerie shadow. Bruce’s face hidden in teh darkness as he reached his hand out for Y/N, knowing full well his child cannot run.

“C’mon Y/N, time to go home.”

______________________________________________________________

A Part 2 will definitely happen! Kinda has to, to be honest.

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