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#let me know if everything is horrible and you want it taken down
sorrygotthesesacks · 23 hours
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Yes, yes, more Stolitz thoughts.
Most of which were eaten up earlier due to an internet glitch when I was still trying to sort out how my thoughts tied to Striker and then my draft never saved.
Of course, we all know that Blitzø is absolutely horrible at expressing emotions. His walls are high, thick, and nearly impenetrable. That's a given. Even Stolas mentions the walls in Just Look My Way.
But Stolas is just as self-sabotaging as Blitzø. He doesn't mean to be (Blitzø, maybe just a little, out of a sense of self-preservation). And a lot of it is the product of his upbringing.
We know that his bottle of anti-depressants was empty, and others have pointed out that may have been a factor in Stolas' reaction (how Stolas' happy pills work in hell, who knows. I know that one missed dose of an SSRI/SNRIs would not be enough to cause him to be more emotionally fragile, but at the very least, we can allow Stolas a placebo effect in feeling even more ill equipped when he's already a ball of nerves - so much so that he vomits as soon as he wakes).
Let's take a look at how Stolas, without intending to, is the one with the steering wheel on this.
He is afraid. He is deathly afraid of losing Blitzø when he sets him free. He is in his own head, and has been in his own head, since he came to this decision.
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He can't take it back, but considering where they are, that isn't a bad thing. It's not the what, it's the how.
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Well. We know they both fucked this up.
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But my point is about the "I'll set us free" line. Emphasis on the "I" as in this is what Stolas is doing, all by himself.
Of course, we know that Stolas is coming at this genuinely - and we know that he truly loves Blitzø and has done his best to drop hints left and right.
We also know that Blitzø does not see himself as lovable, so of course he will not be picking up what Stolas is putting down.
We know this.
Blitz does not.
Let's think back to how resilient Blitzø is in most cases. He has built this shell around himself and protects the vulnerable parts of himself with barbs and insults and witty rejoinders. He is not afraid to kick ass and take names, and who recognizes that Blitzø isn't like typical imps?
Striker, that's who. (Argh, please ignore the fact that the CC does not know Blitz's name.)
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But the thing that made me really think of Striker is that, despite his own personal grudges against the royals, he made a very strong (bloody and violent) point with Stolas and sadly, Stolas wasn't able to extrapolate this to Blitzø.
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Stolas did not deserve this, but he definitely struck a nerve with Striker, who just got done telling him how "some of us" have had everything taken away from royals like Stolas.
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Stolas has never been kidnapped before, and any abuse heaped on him by Stella is nothing like what Striker is doing here. He hasn't had his powers stripped from him. And of course, both his power and station place him above the imps. Even though he doesn't see it! Even though he bows to Blitzø, who he sees as an equal, but doesn't act as if they are equals, not to Blitzø.
I hate Striker for hurting my dear sweet owl boy, but I do get his anger here.
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And thinking of that, it's painfully ironic that Stolas does exactly that to Blitzø.
Which is how we got to this point.
Stolas has deemed himself unworthy of Blitzø's love, despite wanting it so desperately. And yes, Blitzø was a total dick for the whole role playing and saying I love you as a fucking joke - but this is how Blitzø deals with his emotions. He doesn't just tamp them down, he buries them before they can hurt him - and still, we see him begging Stolas - pleading his case, that he can do better.
He doesn't want to lose the book, but he really doesn't want to lose Stolas, and if this relationship between them isn't what he has believed it's always been, there is more of a chance to be hurt by opening up.
Fuck.
I totally get Stolas jumping to the conclusion that Blitzø does not think very highly of him at all. He has no idea how Blitzø has lamented to Fizz how he believes that Stolas only wants one thing from him. He doesn't dare believe it's more / can't possible see that it could ever be more.
And I would be so crushed by Blitzø's reaction, too, if I was Stolas, and I'd just poured my heart out, splayed everything on the floor, to be trod upon.
I get it. I would probably do the same exact thing. Stolas has already built up the rejection in his head, but still very much hoped for his feelings to be reciprocated, instantly, honestly, and passionately. He has been on the receiving end of passion in the physical sense so it makes sense that he'd expect for more. I absolutely get that and do not hate Stolas for this at all.
(And someone pointed out that Stolas put his cigarette out on Blitzø - but like - that was his horn? Which seems to be like horse hooves and YOU KNOW HOW MUCH BLITZØ WOULD LOVE BEING COMPARED TO A FUCKING HORSE! Ahem.)
It hurts so much to see these two, who both deserve to be loved, who want to be loved, to fumble so violently through their own issues and not just stepping but jumping up and down on the land mines that are each other's baggage. Even knowing that in the end, this will make their bond stronger, it hurts.
But I am so happy when I see so many people getting that we can't put the blame solely on either one of them. The beauty of their relationship is all the complicated stuff that Blitz hates.
Which I hate, too.
But also, I really really love it.
It's complicated.
(Cue the Avril Lavigne song.)
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wooyoungisbaby · 3 days
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Finally sat down to make a proper list. This took a fuckin WHILE!!
All of these are member/member, literally all the xreader i've read is here on tumblr. I'm always open to recommendations, don't be shy o send some my way ^^
Please let me know if any of the links are broken or wrong! :) DM me if you wanna ask for clarifications about anything, i'd be happy to help :)
✨ Seonghwa 🎸 Hongjoong 🎮 Yunho 🎀 Yeosang ⛰️ San 📣 Mingi 🤸 Wooyoung 🍎 Jongho Red title: contains smut. most of this list is just smut :') Blue title: angst
Sillage by BBQkitten | 90k · OT8 · 📣 centric · omegaverse · mind the tags
After suffering a particularly horrible physical assault from his pack leader, a very traumatized alpha Mingi gets adopted by Hongjoong's pack. Here, he finally starts the journey to healing from the abuse he suffered in his childhood and young adulthood.
We Got Innocence for Days by CoffeeKitten | 24k (ongoing) · OT8 · 🤸 centric · omegaverse
- Wooyoung is an omega who has never had a home, and his past gave him a lot of shame about his own natural behaviours T_T He's taken in by the rest of AU-teez, and they begin to show him that he's great the way he is :')
Collar Full by long_green_onion | 6k · OT8, 🤸centric · incubus 🤸
Wooyoung is an incubus, and dating the rest of ATEEZ. None of them knows what he is, and he feels guilt for hiding this secret from his partners. After a while of not having sex, he's starting to have serious hunger issues. Which is to say, he needs sex or he gon die. But none of the others want to fuck him bc he looks like he's dying - which hE IS.
Digression by ImNotSorryImThirsty | 4k · everyone except matz · 🤸centric · kinky
Wooyoung has been a big ol brat recently, and his boyfriends team up to punish him thoroughly. A great time is had by all.
Don't want to stay in the dark || 7k · 🎀 centric · OT8 · omegaverse · omega 🎀 · hurt/comfort
After a horrible dance practice and the thought that maybe his pack did not want him, Yeosang goes into heat for the very first time.
Libido by cosywoo | 12k · OT8 · ⛰️centric · omegaverse · trans characters, both primary and secondary gender
A mix of medicines, remedies, and sex are pushing San ever closer to the bliss of being bitched, and he loves it.
How To Care For Your Song Mingi by twoshotrobot | 3k · OT8 · 📣 centric · everyone else's POV
A home made documentary about how to keep Mingies happy and content. Spoiler: You just need to provide him with enrichment in his enclosure, by which i mean. well. peanits.
Now The Time Stands Still by kittenhwa | 2k · OT8 · 📣 centric · kink · sub 📣
#gangbang #cock_cages #rope_bondage #degradation #objectification #struggling and more :3
Muzzled by cosywoo | 4k · ⛰️🤸🎮 · puppy play · sub 🤸
Puppy Wooyoung is being very bad, but luckily he has owners who are ready to degrade punish train him :)
Play Pretend by beanguni | 45k · 🎀🎮 > 🎀⛰️🤸 · non-idol AU · kink · 🎀🎮 fake dating
Yeosang is in love with his roommates Wooyoung and San. He teams up with his colleague Yunho, a kinky bastard, to make them jealous :3c
Cast Out by beanguni | 37k · 🎮📣 · soulmates AU · college AU · top 🎮
Yunho and Mingi are rivals, but they do love to fuck.
A Child of the Sea by HJsGayBF | 8k · 🎸🤸 · mermaid + soulmate AU · mpreg but it's a mermaid
After an injury, mermaid Wooyoung, is taken care of by the crew of Hongjoong's pirate ship. But... What is this feeling inside both their chests... No... it can't be....... unless? uwu
Don't Stop by imiyoko | 1,5k · 🎸🤸 · mean dom 🎸
"This was supposed to be a punishment — Edging you while I use you" Hongjoong sneered, "But you just take everything I give you like the toy you are, huh?"
Under My Skin by geshulins | 7k · 🎸🤸 · mean dom 🎸
Hongjoong bullies Wooyoung and makes him cum :)
Biting Down by cosywoo | 11k · ⛰️🤸🎸 with bg 🎸✨ · non-idol AU · cucking · mean dom 🎸
Sannie and Wooyoung are boyfriends, but there's a real hot guy at Wooyoung's place of work. San gets cucked and he is Very into it :)
I Miss You by flowerwoo | 2k · ✨🤸🎸 · fluff and smut
Wooyoung cockwarms his favourite hyungs. thats really it.
Comfort in the Night by regalmingi | 1.3k · ✨🤸 · cockwarming · sub 🤸
Wooyoung is anxious and the medicine is. well. it's Seonghwa's peanits :) how convenient that they're dating!
froot by cosywoo | 2.5k · OT8, ✨🤸 focused · kink
With the help of blindfolds, light bondage, a cock cage and fruit, Seonghwa helps Wooyoung practice his patience.
Desecration by ImNotSorryImThirsty | 3k · ✨🤸 · sub 🤸 · background OT8 · kink: CNC, humiliation etc
Wooyoung was naughty, and Seonghwa teaches him a very thorough lesson.
Acts of Service by seonghwalazia | 6.5k · ✨🤸 · dom ✨
Wooyoung asks Seonghwa to take care of him. In this case, "taking care of him" involves making cum so hard that he cries- repeatedly. Wooyoung loves it though.
Tool Thrash by orca_mandaeru | 2k · ✨🤸 + 🎀 · sub 🤸
seonghwa belts wooyoung's ass in front of the members, yeosang may get involved
Tame a Brat by Moonshine_Milkshake | 4k · ✨🤸 · sub 🤸 · kink · aftercare, crying
Seonghwa doms the fuck out of Wooyoung and then takes really good care of him as he cries in the aftermath :')
if looks could kill by comma | 14k · ✨&🎀 · escort 🎀 · protective ✨ · mind the tags, they're all important
"We are so going to hell.” Seonghwa laughs. “‘Course we are. Together.”
Sweet Peas and Freesia by Evmoonleigh | 4k · ✨🎀 · omegaverse · dom prostitute ✨ · both alphas
Seonghwa isn’t supposed to play favorites. He’s a professional.
Lotus and Pink Peppercorns by Evmoonleigh | 5k · ✨+⛰️🎸 · omegaverse · alpha prostitute ✨ · omega clients ⛰️🎸
“We’ve never done this before,” Hongjoong starts slowly. “My husband’s name is San. We’re both Omegas. I…can’t give him what he needs, so I need you to do it for me.”
Call Me Doberman by zesstea | 41k · ⛰️🤸🎀 mainly · kink AU · dom 🎀
Established couple WooSan want to try new dynamics in the bedroom, but it's not quite working out for them. So San finds himself a dom in "Doberman", Yeosang. Things... Escalate, and they all become more importamt to each other than initially planned.
We'll hold off the flood tonight by ninetyeights | 17k · ⛰️🤸🎀 · non-idol AU · fluffy!! · podfic version
wooyoung's boyfriends fall in love: the fic
Flight 806 by Evmoonleigh | 10k · 🍎🎀 · sci-fi AU · soft mind the tags · space travel
Yeosang goes to space! :D ...He can feel something calling for him from out there, and he has no idea why.
The Feeling You Bring by moonrisematz | 15k · 🎸✨ · non-idol AU · friends to lovers · dom ✨
Seonghwa ""accidentally"" tells Hongjoong about one of his kinks, edging/denial, and Hongjoong is decidedly not handling the information well. What happens next will warm your heart :}
Take Care of a Leader by Moonshine_Milkshake | 1.4k · 🎸✨ · bottom ✨
Seonghwa lets Hongjoong fuck him sometimes. But this is the first time Hongjoong surprises him.
Clutch series by cosywoo | ~24k · ✨centric, feat. ⛰️🤸 · eggs! :)
Tentacles and eggs man, what more do you need to know?
Imbroglio by orca_mandaeru | 3k · OT8 · ✨ centric · feat. ⛰️🤸🎮 · omegaverse · sub ✨
Omega Seonghwa is tied up for anyone to fuck if they so choose. Wooyoung chooses to tease him bc he's a meanie!! But perhaps after that, someone will show up and let him come? óuò
It Would Cost You by lieanni | 8k · ✨⛰️🤸 · kink · dom ✨ · sub ⛰️
Wooyoung is invited to join San and Seonghwa for a scene.
And they were roommates by zesstea | 6k · ✨⛰️📣 · sub ⛰️ · trans ⛰️ · edging/denial
San gets that special glow™ when he goes on stage after being edged. Mingi and then Seonghwa are determined to help him achieve this.
Practice Lesson by zesstea | 7k · 📣🍎 · they switch :)
Mingi is unhappy that he's inexperienced in bed, Jongho selflessly offers to help him out.
All Mine by undeliveredtruth | 5k · 📣🍎 · gentle dom 🍎
Mingi is upset about a smth that happened on a game show, and Jongho takes care of him by making him cum :)
Everyone Needs Some Care by Moonshine_Milkshake | 6k · 📣✨ · top + gentle dom ✨ · background OT8
Seonghwa likes to take care of his band mates by having sex with them. Mingi has never taken him up on the offer before, but Seonghwa is happy to help him de-stress.
Mind the tags section
Fics that depict noncon or dubcon between members.
Trial and Error || 2.5k · ✨ (🤸🎀) · sub/victim ✨ · noncon
Seonghwa is the primary subject for a clinical study.
Eyes On Me by SariErrbody | 50k · ⛰️🤸 · non-idol AU · stalking, dubcon, past noncon ...
Wooyoung works at a cafe, and there's this patron who's very handsome but also very odd. The patron keeps showing up just to stare at him.
Nectar and Ambrosia by orca_mandaeru | 4k · ⛰️🎀 · superhero AU · sub ⛰️ · dubcon?
Magical girl Yeosang lets San suck him off :3
Until He Breaks by JustNothingHelps | 5k · ⛰️🎸🤸 mafia AU · noncon
Hongjoong has something San and Wooyoung want, and they are real mean to him to get him to spill the beans about its location.
Entrapped by gutsey | 5k · ⛰️🎸🤸 · mafia AU · transmasc 🎸 · noncon
San and Wooyoung need some intel from Hongjoong, the tech guy of an opposing mafia family. And well. They try to fuck it out of him :)
The Secrets Within by flamewhipper | 11k · ✨🤸🎀 · alien ✨ · tentacles · dubcon
Yeosang and Wooyoung are waiters at a resuatrant. One day, they have a very, very beautiful patron who captures their attention in a way that seems very, very unnatural.
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kihyunsflavor · 1 month
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Cold shoulder
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Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader
Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.
Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)
word count: 4.6k
Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3
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A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.
"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.
You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.
You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.
For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."
His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.
"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.
His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“
Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?
„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.
It kills you.
The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.
"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."
With that, you're gone.
Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.
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You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.
The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.
You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.
With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.
The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.
You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.
Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.
The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.
But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.
It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.
And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.
He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.
The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.
As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.
"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.
Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.
Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again
Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.
Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.
Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.
Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.
Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.
Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.
Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.
Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.
If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.
Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.
The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways
When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.
You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.
With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.
An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.
As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.
In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.
As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.
Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.
Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.
His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.
As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.
You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.
In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.
"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.
"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"
Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.
Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.
It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.
After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.
Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.
But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.
With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.
Dear sister,
I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.
With all my love,
Your sister
You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.
The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.
The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.
A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.
With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.
As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.
A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.
"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in the witch's room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.
"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.
Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."
His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."
Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.
"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.
It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.
Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.
When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.
A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.
He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.
Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.
At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.
"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.
But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.
It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."
Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.
With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.
"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.
"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.
"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.
Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.
"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.
"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.
You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.
On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.
Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.
This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.
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star-girl69 · 5 months
Text
New Romantics
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
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sypnosis: you and clarisse meet during a capture the flag game, In A Good Way prequel!!
a/n: IM SO GLAD EVERYONE LIKES MY CLARISSE FIC ☹️☹️☹️☹️ i have so many planned but i just wanted to say thank you all sm!!!! this one is so silly….. i hope you all enjoy!!
LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ON MY CLARISSE TAGLIST!!!!!!
New Romantics - Taylor Swift
warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of death and blood, insane clarisse bc she gets a LITTLE too into capture the flag, protective clarisse obvi i will never write a fic without her showing up, clarisse makes me SWOON if you couldn’t tell, not proofread we get turned into pine trees like thalia over here, tell me if i missed anything!!
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Your legs ache. You’ve been at Camp Half Blood all your life, but you just spent the entire school year doing absolutely nothing. It was an adjustment. You’re already being forced into the horrible tradition of capture the flag. You met up with your favorite and best friends Jackie and Tyla at the beginning of summer, and you’ve all been attached to the hip ever since.
The three of you thought you could escape to a random part of the woods and skip out.
It’s not like you were lazy, or couldn’t hold your own in a fight- but you had just taken turns doing each others nails yesterday, and it would be such a shame to see them all smudged and broken.
You were on the red team, so you watched as the incomparable Clarisse La Rue ran around instructing everyone what to do- completely skipping past the three of you. Jackie took it to heart, complaining about how she had lasted two minutes sparring with Clarisse once, and she had no right to label all Aphrodite kids as weak and useless.
You remember the night you finally made it to the crest of camp, blood staining your hands, your satyr protector dead on the ground behind you as some monster you didn’t know the name of chased after you.
The three of you thought maybe a nice walk at the edge of the woods would be nice, when suddenly a squadron of the blue team came running out trying to catch you as prisoners. It wasn’t a rule of the game, but it was generally expected that that the winner had more prisoners, or else the victory just didn’t seem right.
The blue team saw Aphrodite kids as easy targets to pick off.
This felt all too familiar to that stormy light, your pounding heart, looking around as everything crashed around you. One of them even jumped down from the freaking trees, and you screamed at the top of your lungs as all three of you sprinted off into different directions.
There was only one chasing behind you, a Hermes kid you didn’t know the name of, but he was fast on your tail.
Just as you had reached the crest of the hill, you screeched at the top of your lungs as you saw four figures in front of you. A satyr. Two girls. One boy.
“Not another one,” the stayr moaned, before beckoning you towards them. You stayed frozen in place. The monster was big and slow, but you could hear it approach.
The boy held out his hand.
“I promise,” he breathed, locking eyes with the smaller girl, maybe a year or two younger than you, before looking up at the older girl. You could tell she was battle hardened, she was ready to win this. “We’ll all make it to camp.”
Both monsters chasing you let out ear-piercing roars, and you quickly slapped your hand into his and sprinted away.
Thalia, you would later learn her name, didn’t survive that night. But you did. Luke did. Annabeth did.
The three of you will forever be bonded by that, even if you’re on different teams in capture the flag. Gods, you wish it was Luke chasing you right now- but it’s not.
You’ve forgotten everything about swords and fighting in exchange for the Russian Revolution and the Periodic Table. You hate school even more in this moment.
He reaches out towards you and you’re distracted by his hand touching your shoulder, heart pounding in your ears, and you trip right over a root and stumble before falling to the ground.
You faintly see the flash of bronze armor pass you, then you suddenly hear a body slam into the ground. You whip around, only to find a girl wearing a red-tipped helmet on top of the boy chasing you.
“Clarisse!” she shouts. “I got him!”
You breathe heavily, watching at the boy yells and tries to buck her off of him, but you faintly remember seeing her constantly around Clarisse. She must be another Ares kid, which means there’s no way she’s letting this Hermes kid gets away.
Clarisse saunters out of the woods on your left, looking between you and the boy on the ground.
You sit up on your hands, watching it all play out, not able to catch your breath.
She smiles, slow, like a cheshire cat.
Gods, why does she have to look like that? Why does she have to smile like that? Why does she have to make you feel this way?
Why doesn’t she just drop the spear and make out with you?
“So, this is the dummy who thinks it’s funny to chase around Aphrodite kids,” she says, slowing walking turns him. The girl holds up his head so he has to look at Clarisse. She places the end of her spear into the dirt. She leans down in front of him. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Aphrodite cabin is on the red team, right? Right?”
The girl tugs his head up and he winces, but nods.
“And who captains the red team? Cause I think it’s me, isn’t it?”
He’s learned his lesson. He nods quickly, now.
“I’m feeling nice today. Why don’t you apologize to the pretty girl, and maybe I won’t kill you.”
His eyes lock with yours. He says nothing.
“I said apologize, dumbass.”
He glares at Clarisse.
“You’re fucking insane.”
She laughs a bit. “It’s capture the flag, Zander, why are you not getting a little crazy? Chasing after Aphrodite kids is just embarrassing, honestly.”
“Fine,” he spits. “Fucking fine. I’m sorry.”
“Was that so hard?” she coos. She nods, and the girl let’s him go.
Holy Hades if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
He runs straight off into the woods after a moment, when he realizes they’re not gonna chase after him, not now at least.
The other girl turns to you. “You ok?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you dust off your knees. “There’s more of them by the edge, just so you know. Just north of the river.”
The girl smiles. “Gods, yes. Fuckin’ love destroying the Hermes cabin.”
Clarisse turns to you. She tilts her head to the side, watching you breath heavily on the ground. She sticks out your hand. Your grab it quick, scared she might pull away, and her hand is so warm and fits perfectly with yours. She pulls you up and you dust off your knees.
The other girl takes off running, following the boy, yelling for Clarisse to hurry up.
She smiles a bit, and you swear to Zeus her cheeks are a little flushed, you swear she looks at your lips for a second.
She brushes her thumb across her cheek.
“You’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous.”
She runs off before you can say anything, electrical spear crackling to life.
Oh, you fucking love capture the flag.
—-
clarisse “you’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous” la rue the woman you are
—-
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hazelfoureyes · 1 month
Text
A Doe in Fall (part 5)
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⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦
Part 5 Too Much
Actions famously speak louder than words, so what did you say, exactly, to Alastor with your actions that night? You were briefly rattled by what happened in the park but not for the obvious reasons. Despite everything, despite your fears, you found the situation deepening between you two when he suddenly invites to stay the night at his home. Perhaps he had fears of his own?
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! That’s next part because this part was already super fucking long 😭 , but we do flirt our asses off and get taken by the hand, crying, panic attacks, discussions of murder, dead bodies, you really have to stop smoking, deer, adorably nervous Alastor, this man owns more than one mug you fucking know it」
19 days later… 😩 please don’t kill me. 5000 words here, Another like 6000 words are posting this Thursday, also tumblr wouldn’t let me post this for like an hour , just gave me error messages, I had to copy and paste 4 times so there may be some errors in here so let me know if you find spelling or format issues🙏
When he came to, momentarily either unconscious or just incapacitated as his brain started up again, he was frantic for his glasses. He could hear the sounds of a brutal death, the crunch of anger, the squish of rage. 
His eyes focused now, slightly askew and smudged glasses helping him see you clearly. 
Leaning over the man, hands red and face twisted in a marriage of fear and wrath, you were bringing a large rock down on the man’s unrecognizable face over and over and over and—
You flinched when Alastor’s hands delicately slipped down your arms and peeled your fingers from the rock.
Full body shaking, “He was going to kill you!” You said it too loud, too fast. “He was going to—,” Your breath got caught in your throat, “He wanted to— He was trying to kill you, Alastor.”
Wet with mud and blood and the rain still left on the grass, you were pulled into Alastor’s lap. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck with a small wince and hugged you. “He was. He almost did.” Low and slow, his chest rumbled when he said it. “You did such a good job.”
You looked down at your hands, but he pulled your face back up to look at his, “Always surprising me in the best ways.”
You’d forgotten already, how when adrenaline wanes you’re left with terrible tremors and a suddenly clear head. Alastor almost died. You hadn’t thought at all when it happened. Everything had taken place so fast, faster than your brain could process.
You had seen Alastor stop struggling against the man, his body went still and your eyes were blinded with tears, there was a horrible sound that may have come from you, and then there was nothing. A flash of running Colors. Distant muddled sounds.
Maybe you saw someone grab a rock. 
You might have hit the man on the back of the head. 
You think he fell down and something didn’t stop moving against him. 
Perhaps you thought if you hit him enough you could make it have not happened at all. If you killed him fast enough, Alastor would have been fine and standing.
But you weren’t sure. You blinked and Alastor was touching you and underneath you was a pulp of a man’s face. 
Alastor’s heart was racking against his ribs. Arms tightening around you unconsciously as his eyes landed on the dead man.
He’d gotten too comfortable. He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. He was too much.
He felt himself spilling over and staining your hands metaphorically and now literally.
You didn’t feel anything. Not during. Now you felt too much.
Your mind was filled with an echoing chorus of, ‘He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost died. He almost died.” 
There was a strange fear that Alastor had died, and any second you’d blink again and be alone in the trees with two dead men. You twisted in his lap,  hands rocketing to Alastor’s face and gripping the sides of his head. You were staring into his eyes, panting.
“You can’t die. I’ll—,” tears poured down your face in streams not drops. Your throat closed around the words. Short and fast, your breath ran wild. Hands tingling, your lips felt like they were pricked with a hundred tiny needles. 
Alastor pushed down his own mess of emotions, “One deep breath in.” His hands settled on yours,  still on his face. He could feel the familiar stickiness of drying blood in his hair. “Keep breathing in.” You coughed, shaking your head no. “You can, I promise it. Would I lie to you?”
You laughed, managing to catch your breath for a moment, “Y-yes.” 
“Well, now you’re adding insult to injury.” He made a show of rubbing his neck. You smacked his chest lightly, breathing in twice in a row.
He held both of your hands in both of his, “Name a time I’ve ever lied.” He distracted you but wounded himself. He could name a time.
You tried to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just a really good liar.” Your voice was hoarse. 
Alastor nodded, “That’s true, there’s actually nothing I can’t do well.”
Another laugh, a cry, “Stop it.”
His warm, clean hands wiped your tears. “You’re being aggressive again, sweetheart. You know I prefer soft spoken women.”
The laughter helped break the cycle of hyperventilating. As your breathing finally got to a manageable speed you felt exhaustion deep in your bones.
All at once the sensations became prominent. Your knees were red and muddy, your hands bloody, your left side and back wet. You were sticky and sore and cold. “Alastor,” his legs were framing you, yours now folded under yourself and digging into rocks, “I wanna go home.” You adjusted his glasses, “Together.” 
If he had a reason to say no, he ignored it. 
“I thought I was the messy one.” He washed your hands with the water cans and settled you into the passenger seat of his car. Alastor took care of filling the trunk and cleaning the ground before sliding into the driver's seat.
He turned to you, his face dirty and clothes worse. You looked down at yourself; knees a color of wine, and blue dress now dyed brown.
“I know you have to get rid of him. So, I won’t ask you to sleep over. Just,” you felt sleepy, mind asking you to let it catch up, “let me take care of you for a little bit. Okay?”
His hand slipped onto your leg, he wanted to make a joke about sex or murder hoping to make you laugh again. But it was obvious he needed to be quiet, so he just nodded.
Alastor left the car on a side street behind your building. The man whose name you never asked concealed under canvas and red oil tins.
Luckily everything was clean in your apartment. It was small, just one room and a bathroom. The other apartments you’d seen had communal toilets and showers so you were quite proud of your space. You’d made it yours, gifted trinkets here and there, walls decorated with hanging dried flowers you'd had thrown at your feet. A shrine to your abilities.
You peeled off his clothes, tossing them in the kitchen sink and wiping off as much dirt as you could with a damp rag. 
Clothing hanging over the radiator, you both got into the shower. Cold and wet now hot and soaking,  you took his hands and sat you both down in the tub while the water ran down. Taking your time, you gently scratched the blood and mud from his hair and let it all wash away.
When fully cleaned and dried off he slipped on the only bit of clothing he had left, a loose pair of boxer shorts. You had a slip, silky and soft, to comfort you. Your mother wore silk, and it always made you feel safe. The way the fabric slid around its self and others, never catching or bunching up, was something you always hoped to emulate; smooth and cool, but always in need of a little caution and care.
A small bed meant for one, but you offered it. When Alastor motioned for you to slide in too, you didn’t hesitate.
Nose to nose, the room was quickly heating up with the radiator's help. 
You hadn’t been in a bed with Alastor in nearly two months, not since that first time. His words stuck to you like embroidered messages lovingly stitched into a handkerchief you didn’t want to lose. So you kept your hands between your thighs, still and away, to make sure he had space to exist in your bed.
“You saved my life.” Alastor whispered, one of you finally bringing up the obvious.
A hummed acknowledgment, “That makes us even.” He saved you before, you did the same in turn. A little piece of you worried the contract was done and he’d disappear.
“No, my dear. I owe you so much more.” A kiss to your cheek.
A terrifying thought took hold of you. “Roll over.” He looked confused but did. You were always asking him to turn away, always trying to hide your face when you said things that scared you. You hooked your arms under his and held tightly. 
“If I wasn’t there, there’s no one to have told me. How long would I have waited,” another torrent of tears into his back you couldn’t keep in if you tried, “at the phone booth for you to call in the morning.”
You were crying like a child, uncontrolled and with your entire body. Pathetic. 
He had never had someone to worry about those details. Everyone truly close to him was dead. Until now, of course. 
Of course.
What a natural addition you provided to him. He thought it like that it was a long standing fact.
He hugged your arms tighter to his chest. 
A shiver of fear in the warm bed as you continued, “I want to be there. With you. Always.” You gathered your courage. Shields completely down, if just for a moment, “I know there was nothing right about tonight but,” you wiped your tears off his back with your palm, reabsorbing that pain before he could soak it in, “Please. Don’t shut me out now. I’ll go to hell tomorrow for you but please don’t damn me to picking up a newspaper and seeing your name in the headlines; Learning you died in block letters for a nickel. I wouldn’t survive it.”
You didn’t want to meet his eyes, worried rejection was waiting for you there, so you’d asked him to turn so you could hide. He picked up your hands and kissed your knuckles one by one. “Please don’t say things like that outloud. Things like ‘go to hell’ and ‘tomorrow’ so close together. The spirits can hear you.” A kiss to your palm, “And I wouldn’t dare shut you out.” He couldn’t. The very idea of going back to how he was before, alone and mumbling to the dead, made his heart race with his own panic. If you disappeared tomorrow he was scared to think what would happen to him. “Plus, I know you’d just find me anyway. You always do.”
Had you not been there, he would have still tried to kill the man. Waiting in an alley or for a walk home through an empty space. You weren’t at fault. He’d been hurt before, but this was by far the worst situation he had been in. But he would have been in it regardless of your participation. Alastor pressed his lips into your hand, smelling the soap you’d washed him with. 
You hadn’t hesitated. He had thought you would run, that he’d slip away into death and you’d book it to safety. Something he never planned to ask you to do, to kill someone, you’d done it for him when it was the most selfless option. Did he mean so much to you? He wanted to ask, but if you said anything other than an immediate yes he feared he would turn to a pillar of salt and crumble.
If you both could find the courage to just look at each other you’d have all your answers. But you couldn’t. The fear still too strong. So you changed the topic for a chance at an escape.
A small confession, to turn the conversation away from death. “After our dates, your cologne always lingers on my clothes. Sometimes I just fall asleep in them. When I wake up, my pillow smells like you.” Your body formed against his back, pressing as tightly as you could. How was that less embarrassing than everything else you’d said when it was arguably more pathetic?
He was quiet. You worried you’d pushed too far. Alastor worried he’d already hurt you too much.
“If you asked me,” he spoke slowly, hands resting on yours above his heart, a deep breath, “I’d stop.” He would. 
But, “I’d never ask that of you.” You said it so quickly, like blinking or yawning it happened without you needing to think about it. Alastor did something he felt he needed to do, you saw that look in his eyes before and understood this was Alastor at his truest. And the people he killed weren’t good people. He provided a service to New Orleans that no one appreciated.
He smiled against your palm, making sure you felt it, “Why are you so good to me?”
Without hesitation, Because I love you.
After a beat of silence, “Because you know where I live, obviously.”
A huff, “And where you work.” 
“And the park where I like to get fingered.”
Finally, his unburdened laugh, “I didn’t expect you to say that.” That sound of his joy bounced off the thin walls around you both. He rarely expected anything you said or did. It was part of your charm. Normally he could predict what people would say like reading a bad story, but you were something else. Effortlessly entertaining, was that a compliment? He was sure you’d say no and make that face you always did, something between a pout and a glare, between sad and angry. 
He had been asking genuinely. Why were you so good to him? Why so patient? Why care at all? 
“Can you sleep? Or do you need to go?” 
Alastor thought about it, if he left early enough he could still get home in time to empty the trunk. He hummed an affirmative, when he didn’t move you understood it was the former. He didn’t want to go. He needed more time. He needed to feel you nearby. An odd sense that if he pulled away now the thread holding you two together would pull him apart at the seams with the distance. 
You would think nightmares would plague you after killing someone in cold blood, but no. You practically killed Tommy, when you considered it thoroughly. And while this night was not a joy, you had defended yourself and Alastor. You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t regret it. You were just scared you did a bad job. That you’d get caught. 
The kind of dreams you had were different kinds of scary. Of Alastor always leaving a room when you entered, of falling off the stage and landing too far down, of waking up to feel Alastor cold beside you. 
When you did wake, your arms were still tight around him and he was warm. Your forehead rested between his shoulder blades. You didn’t feel different this time, you didn’t feel changed like after Tommy.
Alastor always had nightmares so he wasn’t surprised to have them in your bed. He dreamt he awoke on the ground, the man was gone but you were there broken into several pieces.
Had it been a dream though? 
After he dressed, you brushing his hair over a shared cup of coffee (you only had the single mug), you walked him to his car. The sun was nearly up and luckily no one else was. You had just wrapped a coat around your slip, not exactly acceptable clothing for being in public.
A shared kiss, small and chaste, Alastor’s mind elsewhere. He opened the door but stopped and turned back to you. It was always in these moments before you two parted that he felt the most frantic. 
“I know we love talking in circles and making jokes, but I have to ask you, bluntly. You killed a man. Are you alright?” When you only blinked, he quickly added, “It’s okay if you’re not.” His expression was pure worry, furrowed brows and flat mouth. “Nothing will change if you say you’re not.”
When you started to smile, Alastor thought he had lost his mind. The sun was rising behind you, making the shadows on your face slowly shift. He took a second to take in the scene. Ankles naked with sockless shoes. To your right was a trunk full of a dead man. And you just smiling like he’d made a joke. Which he explicitly said he wasn’t going to do.
“I don’t feel like I killed anyone.” You said it with a levity that made him glance around, wondering if you’d hit your head a little too hard earlier, “I feel like I stopped someone from killing you. Which feels,” you fought to suppress your smile from growing any further, “kinda good. Like I’m strong. I’m just scared I made a mistake and police will find out. I’m terrified we’ll be seperated. But I don’t feel bad.”
A normal man would be deeply concerned. You didn’t feel bad? For killing a man with a rock? Arguably one of the most brutal ways to murder a person. A normal man would worry he would be next.
Luckily for you both, Alastor was not a normal man. He stared at your face, trying to discern any hints of deceit there before he fell into the comfort of trust.
Your pinky came out, “I’m fine, and if I’m ever not, I will tell you. Promise.” His eyes left your face to stare at the tiny digit, “If I break the promise, you get to break the pinky.”
“Pinkies are useless, we should use a finger that matters.” He offered his index. You let yourself laugh, hooking your pointer finger with his.
Smile to smile, he exhaled his stress and slipped into his normal demeanor, “No worries, darling! No one will ever know what happened to him.” He leaned beside you and patted the trunk. “Leave it to me.”
Alastor drove away with the man, ready to disappear the body and try to sleep before work if possible. A nagging still sat in his stomach, a little pull that maybe you’d change your mind. 
He asked you the next morning, on your routine call, if he could stop by the theater when he finished with work that night. No reason in particular. He’d pull into the side street, and you could run out to see him.
When he arrived, you were in your stage outfit waiting to greet the crowd. Alastor smiled, “The prettiest bird I’ve ever seen!”
“A bird? Alastor just ‘pretty’ woulda been a fine compliment.” 
He offered an apology by way of kiss, soft hands coming to your cheek as he leaned against the door of his car. “I just wanted to see you. Steal a kiss before you stole some hearts. May I return tomorrow?”
Ah, that feeling again. Stupid school girl with her first crush, her first taste of love. “I wouldn’t complain.” 
That flow of conversation eased Alastor, things felt normal already. For you, they were. A small worry remained he may begin to act differently but the only difference was he seemed to be embracing you deeper. 
After your delivered kiss, you took the stage like a woman reborn. The warmth of the light felt like the sun. Pointed toes as you moved along the stage, hips loose and smile coy. 
As you looked around the backlit crowd you didn’t search for a good mark. The times you did play a man’s attention for Alastor were different, it felt like art when you lured men into Alastor’s claws.
A shake of your feathered fans, a very controlled lowering of your head, you let a hip rock out into view. A little flash of inner thigh. Then, your favorite part. One hand gripped your fans as you them with the aide of practiced fingers. Free hand undoing your still remarkably heavy and glittering bra and handing it behind the curtain.
Surprise reveal, a naked magic trick done behind distracting whirling feathers. Arms open, fans high, you waited for the applause to die down. Deep breaths were not possible, adrenaline and the weight of your costume keeping you from hiding the heaving of your chest. 
The whistles were your favorite. You couldn’t imagine Alastor whistling but you were sure it would be flawless in its ability to capture your attention. 
“Anyone wanna smoke? I don’t want to go into the alley alone.” You asked the room, several girls glancing your way and shaking their heads no as you hurried back in from your set.
“Just take the fire escape to the roof. That’s where we’ve been smoking since Mr. Brady said it was dangerous at night.” Florence was normally a perfect smoking partner, never talking too much. The name Brady made your stomach flip though, you had forgotten about him for a second. You’d managed to avoid him until Tommy’s bloody trail went cold, but you knew he still stalked around the jazz and music district.
A dancer laughed, “Nighttime has always been dangerous for women.”
Someone you didn’t see added, “Fuck, daytimes not safe either.” 
You climbed the creaky and seemingly forgotten-about fire escape to the roof. The breeze hit your face before your feet even left the metal railing. 
It was… a roof. Grey painted floors and brick sides. Nothing special, but you could see the bowl full of discarded cigarettes near the front of the building. You looked over the short wall that edged the front, you were able to see the pigeon shit covered marquee. What an unattractive view, the lights flashing out from beneath actual shit.
There was a metaphor there, you were sure. 
Looking around, there were a few wicker chairs hidden in the shadow of the street’s lights, thankfully upside down to keep them clean from the birds.
If more people used roofs instead of alleys Alastor would be out of luck. Tommy was difficult enough with a staircase, the fire escape would have been the nail in that coffin. 
It had been a lovely night, absolutely jarring compared to the night before. You leaned back in the chair, you knew you weren’t the best at saying what you meant. Especially when the words you offered could be used to hurt you. Words of affection and love, when true, were daggers given handle-first to someone else. 
So you hoped Alastor could guess how much he meant to you. You shouldn’t need to say it, right? Actions speak louder than words. You bludgeoned a man to death for what you had thought was a lost cause. It had seemed Alastor was already dead when you first brought down the rock. 
Diamonds are rocks, you considered. The most expensive costume the theater had was peacock feathered with shining crystals. You wanted to say you felt like a peacock, spirit large and wide and colorful. But those were males. Of course they were. The animal kingdom had males compete for mates with pretty colors and lovely songs. Now ladies pranced around in painted faces and short dresses. You didn’t feel pale or small like the ‘fairer sex’ peacock.
You felt like the swan. Vicious and beautiful, not out shone by anyone.
Well there was someone you’d allow to shine brighter. Someone you’d happily let take the lead. You’d thought letting a man walk in front of you was a sign of subservience. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that there could be respect in trusting someone else to go ahead. That the act of going first could be for protection and not power.
“Hey!”
You hurried to the fire escape, “yeah?”
“There’s a man asking for you. Tall guy named Frank?”
Frank?
Oh, Frank.
You’d forgotten about him. He’d left months ago. He was a whale, rich and generous. You took a moment to consider sitting down with him, smiling and laughing at his jokes, letting his hand settle on your thigh. It had been weeks since you entertained scamming anyone, and now you couldn’t even stomach the idea of faking interest in another man. Frank wasn’t one to scam, he just liked having a pretty lady on his arm to make him feel young and wanted, and in exchange you got into private parties and were gifted jewelry and clothing.
“Tell him I’m busy and send him off.” You hollered down. You could buy your own clothes. 
“Did he leave?” Alastor asked you the next morning, you leaning against the glass phone booth in the early morning light.
Your finger wrapped around the phone cord, “No of course not! They never do. I snuck out the back.”
There was a hum, “Well my dear, you’ve offered me a wonderful transition into my next question.” Alastor was sitting at his kitchen table, nervously turning his coffee cup around in circles, “Would you like to come over tomorrow night? I can pick you up after your show.”
Like a glacier drifting away from shore, you very slowly crouched down in the booth. “To your home?” 
“No, to Alabama.” He waited a beat, “Yes of course my home. I can show you what happens after I drive away.” A cheeky smile evident through his voice.
You pressed the phone receiver into your chest, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. What happens when he drives away? So…where the bodies go. But most importantly, the biggest part of this—where he lives. So much can be gleaned about someone from their home. A bookshelf alone could make or break an attraction. You brought the receiver back to your mouth. “Lovely! Sure thing— Alastor. Yes.” you almost added on an awkward nickname like daddy-o or mister man, like an idiot, because your brain was misfiring like you’d seen him in the sunlight again.
Ah, you could see his bed. 
Where he slept.
Did he ever dream of you?
What if it was terribly dirty? Could you still love him if he was a slob? 
“I’m quite far from downtown, pack an overnight bag, okay?” He stopped fidgeting with the mug. When the call ended he sat at the table for some time, staring around the kitchen. The home was large by city standards, but it was old. His mother’s charm was evident through every part. A finger scratched at the wooden table, heavy and solid. Why was his heart racing? 
He walked to the screened back door, looking from the weathered patio steps to the greenhouse. 
No one had ever been to his home. Ever. A teensy part of him was panicking. Was this a mistake? Was he going to fuck up the budding relationship? Throw off the peace of his safest place?
Budding. Okay that was ridiculous even for him. The kind of intimacy gained through murder did not allow any union to be called budding. He’d shared pieces of himself no other living soul knew of. Your image of him was possibly even more complete than his own mother had held, even though he tried to always be the most sincere with her. Even people he did care for and consider close friends had never knew where he lived. Never heard what kept him up at night. Never learned his distaste for a random lay.
Opening the screen door with a signature creak, the sound many southerners could call comforting, he walked to the greenhouse.
The newest part of the property, the glass walled structure was built shortly after his mother’s death. Double doors: locked. Just beyond the glass was a forest of plants and potted trees. They had no need for a greenhouse, but Alastor had a need for them.
He set about preparing his home for another occupant, a task that brought him such a shock of joy and anxiety he began to wonder who he was. New sheets on the bed, extra pillows set against his wooden headboard. Large glass jar in the backyard full of water and tea bags.
It was also unexpected he was thinking so much of his mother. In a perfect world she’d be there to greet you. Though if she was alive, he wouldn’t have been in that alley that night. He made a mental note to not mention his mother, at least not as much as he was remembering her as he walked around the two story home tidying.
Would he have met you if he wasn’t a killer? 
A flicker of fear was quickly extinguished by romance. Definitely. You both ran in the same scenes. He’d seen you before that night, he just never approached you. He hadn’t anticipated how much more you were than the facade you put on. Nothing about your sweet face said, ‘I have a high tolerance for murder.’
Alastor spent the day at work physically present but mentally pacing his living room. He nodded along to discussions of who was to be live on set next, smile never faltering as he worried if he had breakfast foods. He rarely ate breakfast, did you? How had he not thought to ask. Sloppy.
The only outward sign he was feeling any stress was the tapping of his finger on his desk, which he hadn’t even noticed until the stage manager commented.  
“Alastoooor,” her voice was high, like it seemed many women’s voices were recently. Was it a trend? “Impatient? Hot date with a young lady this evening?”
While she meant well, she always pried, always asked questions he didn’t appreciate. 
Alastor shook his head, smile strained. A perceptive person would have picked up on it, but Brenda was not perceptive.
“Oh.” A noticeable disappointment, “That’s boring.”
Actually on second thought maybe she didn’t mean well.
“I’ve had too much coffee, is all, Brenda.” He pulled his hand into his lap. “Was there anything you needed?” 
“No,” she pouted, much less endearing than you.
If he murdered purely for fun Debra would be dead before sunset. Unfortunately her only crime was being remarkably annoying.
Alastor waited behind the theater, where it was less likely any staff would see him. It was still important to avoid connecting the two of you together, at least at your workplace yet. 
He was quick to grab your bag for you.
“Not the trunk, please.” You said, it took him a second to catch the joke. He set it on the back seat after opening your door for you. You’d only been in his car a few times but he never failed to be a perfect gentleman. 
Your palms were sweating, when his hand rested on your leg while he drove you resisted the urge to hold it. Instead you slipped yours under his. Alastor asked you about your day, about work, about if Frank came back. Typically as soon as you left the theater you were in a cone of silence until your phone call with him the next day. It was kind of nice, having someone to speak to. Before meeting him there were times you worried you’d forget how to talk naturally, how to sound like yourself.
The glowing eyes of deer popped up from the side of the road, startling you. Eerie. You held your breath, would they run, stay still, or sprint into the road.
“Is it true their antlers can break car windshields?” You asked not breaking eye contact with a doe as you drove past.
Alastor nodded, “If a buck hits your car the wrong way, not even the car will make it out of the accident.”
“Are there a lot of bucks around?”
“Will be soon, as fall— wait why am I telling you this,” he laughed, “Miss Autumn Hind already knows what makes the bucks run wild.”
You shouldn’t be smiling, it was a dumb rut joke, but it felt like a compliment. 
The car lights passed over the home as he turned into the dirt driveway. Powder blue. It wasn’t a color you associated with Alastor. He was caramel, honey, midnight blue, red. His sometimes sinister smile didn’t look quite right against powder blue. But, for a home, it was lovely.
“Is someone home?” You saw a light on in an upstairs room.
Alastor reached behind you for your bag, “No, I leave it on when I’m gone. Gives the impression that the house isn’t empty.”
A minor bit of acting, Alastor opening the door and offering to bring your bag upstairs before a tour like a good host. His anxious energy was barely contained by that grin of his. For your part you played the appropriately impressed guest.
But deep down you were very impressed. An actual house. Your mother struggled to keep apartments rented. Alastor had a home. With stairs. That went to more home, not a neighbor. What a lovely thing. What did he do with all this space?
He could probably hide quite a few bodies in there.
Alastor opened his bedroom door and motioned for you to enter.
You took in every detail as shrewdly as you could. Two circular nightstands, a wide dresser with a few framed photos and a radio. One large window facing the yard, you could see the car outside from where you were standing. “Wow a man’s bedroom. I tend to avoid these.”
“What a coincidence, so do I. Bedrooms in general, really.” He placed your bag on the dresser, offering to unpack it for you. Your smile screwed up, shaking your head no. You couldn’t imagine Alastor folding your panties and setting them into a drawer. 
Well.
“Yes please.” You took a seat on the end of his bed, watching him tenderly empty the bag before beginning to put things away like you’d come home from a trip. “A bed big enough for two people. You didn’t tell me you were a fancy man. Ooh la la.”
Alastor laughed, “Your bed was quite comfortable.” He set your dress onto a hook attached to the closet door, hands running down the fabric to straighten out the wrinkles, “But I have a feeling that had more to do with you than anything else.”
The floor was clean, the rug beneath the bed a simple but pristine white. What an odd color for a rug.  
You truly did avoid men’s homes. The power dynamic shifts too much.
“Are all men so clean?”
“Oh god no. Have you really never been to a man’s home?” Without a moment of hesitancy his long fingers flattened out your underthings and neatly folded them. You could call it erotic, knowing what else his fingers could do.
A hum, you swayed side to side, “Too much risk. I don’t know where the knife drawer is, which locks stick, what windows open all the way.” 
He set the empty bag into a reading chair in the corner, “That sounds stressful.”
You shrugged, “My mother taught me to always have an escape. From situations, from rooms, from people. Not terrible advice.”
That was true, he thought. If the few women he killed had considered that, he would be less prolific. Women tended to be easier in some regards.
Alastor finally let himself look at you sitting on his bed. Were you wearing the black garters today? He liked those. He appreciated the red dress you’d worn.
Taking off his jacket and vest, he hung them up while his eyes kept returning to you. Your legs were crossed, thighs soft and pressed together. He remembered feeling them against his ears. A little cough to clear his throat and mind.
“Are you hungry?”
You werent, but you weren’t ready for sleep either, so you asked for some bread and butter. Alastor sat beside you at the table, watching you look around. It didn’t look like a killer's home. 
“Ya know, I was going to rob you. I had been wanting to talk to you, before that guy caught me off guard when I was smoking.” You said it easily. 
He smiled, “Oh, why’d you change your mind?”
“Well, you slit a man’s throat in front of me.”
“Tsk tsk, you give up too easily, my dear.”
Salted butter, soft bread. Simple. Happy. “You were so handsome-,”
“We’re?”
A snort of a laugh, rolling your eyes dramatically, “and you looked well off. I was searching the room for the lights reflecting off of your glasses all night.”
Alastor grimaced, fighting the well of his ego, and leaned on his elbows, “Is it too morbid to say I’m glad that man tried to kill you? I like this timeline more than being robbed and never seeing you again.”
“That’s very selfish. I would have enjoyed chasing you down and finessing your wallet off you.” You set the glass lid back over the butter dish, content with the snack. “Some men come back actually and confront me at the theater.”
He howled. The idea was ridiculous, “Seriously? Why not just tell the cops.”
“Men don’t like telling other men they got taken for a ride by a dame.”
Alastor stood, “What would you have done if you had robbed me and I marched into the theater demanding my cash back.” It took a second to realize he was being serious in wanting you to play along. 
You popped the last piece of bread into your mouth and stood too, “You rake!” A fake smack to his chest, “I booted you to the curb! You had more hands than an octopus!” 
Alastor tried to stay in character but his smile kept cracking through his serious face. “And my wallet? None of my hands can find it.” You took a few steps back, feigning shock at the accusation.
“Sir! You were so drunk I’m not surprised you lost it.” When Alastor closed the space between you with two wide steps and pulled you into his chest you giggled, hitting softly at him, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Trying to take advantage,” his hands wandered down your hips, making your voice catch in your throat, “of a good woman like me.”
His mouth came to your ear, “Well, miss, I think you owe me the opportunity to try again.”
You went stiff against him, the sudden turn of his voice into seduction taking you by surprise, “If you were a real mark, I’d punch you in the face for saying that.”
“But for me?” Breath against your neck.
Your hands slid up his chest and to his collar, pulling him down and into a kiss. His smile spread across your lips. 
His mouth stayed against your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “Ready for bed?”
“Are you sleepy, hun?” You pulled away, a sincerely worried face. Two nights now you’d interrupted his normal routine.
Alastor’s eyes seemed to sparkle behind his glasses, head shaking, “No, not at all.” You felt the heat rise up your face. Wanting to avoid assumptions, you tried to temper your expectations.
His hand pulled you toward the stairs, you dragging your feet, “Did you want to show me around?”
“In the daylight.” He led you up the stairs and to the right.
“Oh okay….”, your mind was reeling, mouth dry. No dead body in sight. No blood. You hadn’t pressed him or asked for anything. Maybe he just wanted a good cuddle, or some kisses. You often enjoyed necking near the car before he would go home. Right. Let him lead.
You followed him, letting him guide you hand in hand back to his bedroom.
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
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kelstey · 4 months
Text
i waited
theodore nott x reader
warnings : none
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❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
theo kissed your forehead, both you bodies sticky and sweaty from the moments prior. you smiled to yourself as his muscular arms made their way around you.
"i don't think i'll ever get over how beautiful you are," theo ran his fingers through yourhair.
"thank you, theo," you turned your head and kissed his lips.
your happiness was quickly replaced by a sudden wave of what felt like guilt and shame.
the two of you had always been close, sharing kisses, looks, even touching when no oneelse would be looking. that part killed you.
no one knew. not even pansy and luna. given, luna may not be accepted by a large majority of slytherins but you couldn't help but love her, she was amazing and understood you in a way no one else did.
that's how private the two of you had decided- well improvised on. you wanted to show him off. you wanted to kiss him before class, hold hands when sat next to each other, dance in front of everyone, everything.
but he didn't want that. he liked the privacy. but you were never sure if that was really a cover for simply using you.
but you let him.
"i should get going, i'm going out with luna to the three broomsticks," you moved out of theo's arms and started picking up the clothes that were discarded all over the room after theo ripped them off of you.
"tell her i said hi," theo said, another thing that you liked about him. he liked luna. but he was partially stupid as you couldn't tell luna that he said hi, she would ask questions as to why he would even do that.
"i think you forgot we are a secret," you put your tights on.
"fuck, yeah. well- have fun then," theo waved and you hurried out, still attempting to tie your tie.
you felt the tears coming. you couldn't help it. you felt idiotic to allow theo to walk all over you. you promised yourself you would never let a man take you for a fool, but no. here you are, years later, being taken as a fool by a man you were in love with.
obviously he didn't know, he couldn't. it would ruin everything.
the two of you agreed to strictly have just sex. just sex. just stupid fucking amazing sex. he was a natural at it, he knew how to make you cum in minutes. he had you wrapped around his finger.
you typically wouldn't let anyone see or touch you, but theo? he could do anything and you would let him. it also felt like a weird bonding experience.
sex is intimate, of course. it's the closest two souls can get to each other. and you were convinced that the countless amount of times you did it in a day with him made some sort of connection.
you wiped your tears away as you entered the three broomsticks and saw luna sat alone in your usual corner. "luna!"
"you're here!" she exclaimed and got up out of her seat to hug you.
"of course, you know i love our chats here," you smiled and the two of you sat down.
"are you okay?" she asked as she observed the mascara which was evidently smudged under your eyes.
you had to tell her. you had to tell someone. there's no one you would rather tell than her. "luna, please, pinky promise me you won't ever tell a soul."
she nodded, "your secret is safe with me. you know that."
you looked around the place, only noticing two other tables of people who seemed to be in their own little worlds. "okay, me and theo have been hooking up. like friends with benefits style, but i'm in love with him. i cant keep doing this. it hurts, luna. i want to love him and kiss him around our friends but i can't."
luna sat and listened to you ramble on, a few tears shedding in the process. "that's horrible. but you must know, no man, especially one who you aren't even dating, should ever make you feel this way. the right one will make you cry only tears of happiness and pleasure, if you know what i mean."
her comment made you laugh, this was why you loved her. "thanks lu. sorry about that rant, i haven't told anyone and so feel special you're first to hear about this fucked up situation."
"i'm glad you can trust me, but i think i may have an idea," luna sat upright. "how about you stop meeting him so often? maybe start seeing him once a day; then once every few days. if you want to take it a step further you could even start hanging out with another boy more."
"luna you're a fucking genius," you reached over and hugged her.
"you know i always have the best ideas," she giggled.
just then the door opened and luna's eyes focused behind you, as your back was turned to the door.
"who is it?" you asked as you noticed her smile had dropped.
"don't turn around if you don't want to cry," she said and you immediately turned your head 180°.
"no fucking way," your jaw dropped as you saw theo walk in with cho. "is he fucking shitting me right now? luna tell me i'm dreaming. tell me."
"i'm sorry, babe. do you want to go somewhere else?" she asked.
"yes it is best we go. i don't think i'll be able to hold back a fucking fist in both their stupid faces," you both got up.
and as for your amazing luck, they both spotted you and luna. theo called out your name and walked over to you. "hey, what's up?" he asked with a stupid smile on his face as if he didn't know what he was doing.
"hey theo," luna gave a small wave and he smiled at her.
"we were just leaving," you said and took luna's hand and the two of you walked out. you heard theo say something but you were too distracted by the ringing in your ears.
"it's okay, it's okay," luna engulfed you into a very big, very needed hug.
"why would he do that? i literally told him i was going to be here with you?" you cried into her arms.
"he's a boy, they don't think with their brains, only their dicks."
-
it had been a few days since the incident and you still had not spoke to theo. you were going out of your way to ignore him, not caring if it hurt you more than him.
you would spot theo in the halls, once he noticed you, you had already turned around and walked the complete opposite way before he even got a chance to call out your name.
it hurt too much. it didn't help that after those first couple of days, he eventually stopped trying to get your attention. instead he was being all handsy with cho.
it killed you, hardly being able to speak or react. it also hurt that you had to distance yourself from the other slytherins who noticed the lack of your presence.
but it wasn't all too bad, instead of hanging with them you and luna started hanging out more. she would check up on you constantly, making sure to cheer you up to avoid you thinking about him.
she knew you were deeply upset about it. she allowed you to grieve, cry and let all of it out. she herself had never experienced this type of hurt, but she was almost grateful as she saw how badly it impacted you.
aside from not speaking to theo, you kept your head up high. you still went to class, still did your work, still sat at the slytherin table for meals. everyone noticed the tension between the two of you.
no one asked, or at least in front of your face. they decided it was better to keep quiet and try keep things as normal as could be.
amongst those few days of hurting, you started growing closer with mattheo. he was also there for you, he wasn't sure exactly what happened with theo but he knew it was hurting you and so he decided to be there for you.
he also had to admit that it was also due to the fact that he fancied you. you began sitting next to him at meals, class, even sometimes being spotted after classes walking together.
this didn't go unnoticed by theo, of course. he wanted to punch mattheo in his face. mattheo was one of theo's closest friends and to see him get close with you, it also hurt him.
it was a stupid, stupid situation. the two of you pretending to move on while both your feelings grew stronger- though a large majority of it was anger due to the fact you were not communicating.
or at least verbally communicating. whenever you looked up, no matter where you were, his eyes were the first ones to meet yours.
it was ridiculous, really. you couldn't seem to get away from him, he seemed to stalk you as if you were prey. he couldn't get you out of his mind.
-
you looked over at the clock, 2:56am. great. you couldn't seem to sleep for some reason and it was starting to annoy you. you quietly got out of bed, slipping on a random hoodie on the floor and your slippers before leaving your dorm. you knew that after 12am, no teachers or prefects would be on lookout so you didn't have to worry too much about getting caught.
you made your way up to the astronomy tower, your favourite spot to go when you were unable to sleep. you reached into your pj short pockets and retrieved the joint that you rolled earlier.
you got the lighter out and attempted to light it. of course it had to be out of fluid. you were just away to get up when you noticed theo standing behind you.
"you spooky bitch! why the fuck would you stand there like that, holy fuck bro. you better be glad i'm a teenager and not an old woman cause you would've gave me a heart attack," you scolded him as you raised a hand over your heart to relieve yourself of the pure distress he just put you through.
"calm down, darling. here's a lighter," he passed you his stainless steel lighter. the same one you carved both of your initials into. you were surprised he used it.
"you don't get to do that," you looked up at him, feeling anger flowing through your veins. theo looked at you, he seemed confused but also like he knew what was happening.
"you don't get to have cuddle me, kiss me, make love to me, everything a couple would do, and then fucking show up to a place where you knew i was at with another stupid fucking girl! do you know how long i've waited for you? years theo, fucking years! i thought it was best to keep waiting, hoping for the day that you would admit you loved me back, but you didn't. but i still waited, theo, i fucking waited. i would never do this if it was anyone else," you felt tears threatening to spill and a lump in your throat.
theo remained quiet, he looked down at his hands and played with the silver rings which decorated his stupidly pretty hands. you waited for him to say something, anything. but he didn't. once again, but were you surprised.
"have your stupid lighter back. i never should've carved our initials in it thinking we could've been something," you shoved the silver lighter into his hands before walking off.
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
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scribblesofagoonerr · 2 months
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I'm not a loser!
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Pairings: lia wälti x teen reader, caitlin foord x teen reader, awfc x teen reader
Massive thinks to @alotofpockets for her help with motivating me to write and put this out. Sorry it's taken a while, but I wasn't overly keen with how I wrote it & even now, I feel like it's not my best work.
I hope you like it though, and please let me know your thoughts of what you'd like to see happen in this mini fic series!
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Things really hadn’t been going in your favour today at all, in fact it had been a completely terrible day at school and you didn’t realise that it was only about to get worse.
Since the day started, it had been horrible from the very minute that you woke up, overhearing the latest argument between your two mums’ on the phone as they fought about you, but you didn’t care to listen to any of the conversation; It always seemed to land back around on the same topic that you argued about, and that subject being you.
It seemed like your mood only worsened when your latest test was handed back to you, graded with a big fat F circled in red around it and it’s not like the disappointing look you received from your teacher helped matters either.
You were quick to shove the paper in the bottom of your backpack, at least then you could try and forget about it; The last thing you wanted was to see the disappointed looks from either of your mums, after you promised them that you would try and keep your head down.
But sometimes it was easier to say that then actually do it.
It’s not like you have ever been a troublemaker in school, but it’s been tough to keep on top of everything and now you’re finding yourself both in trouble at school and at home; You were currently grounded after the latest stunt that you pulled over the weekend with Kyra, which you didn’t find completely fair, but your mama seemed to think different, so what did you know?
The rest of the morning at school hadn’t exactly been great either, you’d somehow managed to land yourself with a break time detention for the forgotten piece of English homework that you were supposed to hand in, but it wasn’t meant like you did it on purpose when there’s added pressure from football games and training, not to mention the messy home life situation that you currently faced, so it's’ safe to say that your school work has now been slacking ever so slightly.
By the time that the bell for lunch went, you were more than ready to escape the classroom. However, when you were walking out of the classroom that’s when it all changed and you came face to face with your tormentor.
“Oi, Y/L/N!” You flinched at the familiar voice of your bully shouting at you from behind, just as you thought that you had been doing so well to avoid them only for you to turn a corner and see them.
You could say that life’s never really been the easiest roller coaster for you, your past homelife hadn’t exactly been fantastic and you’d never even felt true happiness until you found your home at your childhood dream club with a new family that welcomed you with open arms.
The day you signed your first ever professional contract, your life changed completely. When the opportunity arose for you to play for the Arsenal womens’ senior team, you couldn’t help but leap at the chance to play for your dream club, even if you were still quite young.
It was all you’d ever wanted to do.
Despite the rough start in your life, you’ve necessarily not been one of those types of kids to act out, you just get on with life without a single complaint, even with the challenges that you’ve faced in life.
Just like the current situation right now, your own personal tormentor.
You weren’t bothered at first when it was tolerable, it was just harmless name calling and sure, the names’ spilled were mean but you had enough sense just to ignore them but then it got worse and eventually the names turned into physical assault.
You just didn’t know what to do anymore.
“Oi, don’t ignore me, Y/L/N. I know you can hear me, you stupid twat” Your own personal bully continued to shout aloud to get your attention.
Mustering up all the courage that you had, you bit your bottom lip and spun around to face your bully although they were tall and had that slight advantage over you, “I… I wasn’t ignoring you. I just didn’t hear you” Your quick to lie and cover your tracks.
“Whatever” The older girl muttered, rolling her eyes before she continued to push you into a nearby locker, “Listen, stupid. The chemistry homework needs to be handed in today, do you have it or not?”
Your eyes widened in a sudden panic, you’d completely forgotten about it when you were so busy with football and trying to keep up with your own school work that you pushed your bullies’ to the back of the pile, and now you knew that you were gonna pay for it.
“Well, do you?” You pulled out of your thoughts by a sharp pinch on your bicep.
“Um, no… I forgot about it” You quietly admitted, although you knew it was an instant mistake right there and then.
“You forgot? Huh, you really must’ve been born stupid then” The bully spat venomously as they tower over you with a menacing look on their face, “Well, I guess we have a problem now then, don’t we?” they sneer at you.
A single second later, you hissed out loud in pain at the instant impact of being thrown directly into the locker behind you, you can’t help but flinch as an automatic response to the violence that is being directed towards you while you peer up with wide eyes as they tower over you with a venomous look in their eyes.
“You’re not going to fight back, you wuss? What a loser!” They taunt you before they throw you directly into the locker again, “Huh, no response, no defence. You really are a sad little lost orphan aren’t you” they continue to taunt.
You don’t know what it was inside of you but it was like something snapped. You couldn’t take it any longer of the harsh comments spewed or the violence, you didn’t have to put up with it either.
“I’m not… I’m not an orphan” Your usual calm approach to your bully has gone as you can’t help but growl at the older girl while clenching your fists tightly, “I’m not a loser either, I’m not— I’m not!” 
“Oh, yeah? Prove it then, loser” They smirk, almost challenging you.
You couldn’t even explain the next few minutes even if you tried. 
It was like you blacked out in a state of absolute rage, your fists flying at them as you remembered the self-defence that your mum had so helpfully taught you in case you ever needed it in a situation like this, and now it finally came in handy against them.
“I’m not… I’m not a loser!” You exclaimed loudly as you lifted your own fist up and swung it in the direction of their face, “I am not… I am not a loser!” You’d lost control of your anger like a flick of the switch, lashing out and throwing punches at your bully whos’ been endlessly taunting you for the better part of the last several months.
Even though you know you were  bound to be in trouble for it, you couldn’t care less right now because punching your bully and sticking up for yourself was definitely worth it in the end.
And maybe this way, you’d be able to get the attention of both your mums’ in the same room, so that was another positive reason to punch the girl square in the face.
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“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Bye” Lia exhales a sigh as she ends the most recent phone call with your head teacher this week, having asked her to come down to the school after you’d landed yourself in trouble.
“What’s going on?” Leah looks at the older women confused as the trains alongside her in the gym.
Lia exhales a sigh and slips her phone into her pocket, “That was the school again. Y/N is in trouble” she explains to the blonde.
“Again?” Leah's eyebrows furrow, confused, “What happened this time?” she wonders.
“I don’t know, but I guess I’ll find out when I get down there” Lia mumbles, standing up from the bench that she was previously sitting on, “I seriously don’t know what’s been going on with her lately. It’s just one thing after another” she adds.
“I guess Y/N/N is having a rough time, maybe?” Leah comments that sounds more like a question, not used to your recent streak of wild behaviour compared to the calm girl you are usually.
“What’s going on with Y/N?” Caitlin overhears the conversation and the mention of your name, before she makes her way over to join the two women, “Is she okay? Has something happened?” she asks, confused.
Lia exhales a sigh as she has to face her ex-girlfriend and speak to her, “The school just called, Y/N is in trouble” she explains once more as she pinches the bridge of her nose.
“What? What happened?” The Australian woman frowns and digs into her own pockets, pulling her phone out to check for any missed calls from the school, “The school hasn’t phoned me about it” she mumbles, furrowing her eyebrow.
“Well there’s no point in phoning both of us when we’re at the same place most of the time, is there?” Lia remarks, not having the time nor energy to explain anything further.
Caitlin continues to frown and shake her head in disagreement, “I should still be kept in the loop with what’s going on. I hardly hear what’s happening with her at the minute” she states.
“You are told what’s going on Caitlin, I don’t keep things from you” Lia exhales a sigh as she tries to keep calm while talking to her ex-girlfriend, “What more do you want me to do?” she asks.
“Aye, that kid. What’d she do this time?” Katie joins in on the conversation, not sensing the seriousness of it all, “Bad mouth the teacher or get caught cheating on a test?” she jokes.
Lia purses her lips in annoyance with the Irish woman, “It’s not funny, Katie” she states, bluntly.
“Oh come on, so the kid gets into a bit of trouble every now and then. It’s not a big deal” Katie insists, rolling her eyes.
“You’re clearly not seeing the point of how serious this is then, Katie” Leah steps in as she can see Lia getting herself annoyed with Katie’s mock teasing, “This isn’t funny, you know Y/N/N and you know that she’s never usually like this at all!” she remarks.
Katie holds her hands up in mock surrender, “Relax, eh, Williamson, will ya? I’m only joking here, there’s no need to take the high ground about this now, is there?” she says and she can’t help but rile the blonde up.
Leah scoffs in disagreement with the brunette, “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if her behaviour as off lately was down to your antics when she’s around your house on the weekend, cos’ she certainly doesn’t act like this when she’s at Lia’s house” she remarks.
“My antics?” Katie fires back in disbelief.
“Y/N/N acting up isn’t anything to do with how she is at ours” Caitlin chips in and defends the pair of them, “I don’t know what is going on with Y/N/N but this isn’t something that’s neither mine or Katies’ fault” she tells them.
“Oh, really?” Leah scoffs and raises her eyebrows before she looks at the Swiss woman, “Do you want me to come down to the school with you?” she offers.
“Would you?” Lia glances at the blonde in appreciation.
“Of course, I would–” Leahs’ agreement is cut off.
“No way, absolutely not!” Caitlin interjects, very much in disagreement with that decision, “If anyones’ going down to the school with you then it should be me!” she states.
“Caitlin–” Lia begins to speak.
“No, I’m Y/N’s mum just as much as you are, Lia” The Aussie woman insists, not liking the idea of being pushed out of the picture, “We should go down to the school and deal with this together, as a family” she mumbles.
“We broke up Caitlin, we’re not a family anymore” Lia quietly tells her, shaking her head in disagreement, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to go down to the school together, Caitlin. I will go with Leah and then I’ll just tell you what happens” she tells her.
“Why not? No offence, Leah but this hasn’t got anything to do with you!” Caitlin objects to the idea as she looks at the blonde.
“I’m going there to support Lia and that’s important right now” Leah explains to the Aussie woman.
Caitlin shakes her head completely in disagreement with the idea, “No, no– I should be there, Y/N is my daughter, not yours!” she points the finger at the blonde firmly before she looks at Lia, “Fine, if you don’t think we should both go down there then why don’t I just go down there? In fact I’ll take Katie, we’ll take her back to ours afterwards instead” she declares.
“Oh yeah, Y/N/N loves Coopurr!” Katie exclaims, in agreement with the suggestion.
“There we have it then. I’ll find out what’s been going on with Y/N/N and then we’ll go back to ours” Caitlin insists with the idea.
Lia shakes her head in disagreement, “Oh, and make it seem like I’m the bad cop when you bring her home?” she questions.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do here, Lia! I’m just trying to help you out here and be the parent that Y/N/N needs– She’s my kid too, you know?” Caitlin shouts back in response, earning the attention of a few girls in the gym, including their captain Kim.
“I’m not saying that she isn’t. I know she is but it’s easier to do it this way” Lia explains, avoiding the looks from the rest of the girls in the gym who look concerned.
“Is it? It just seems like you’re pushing me out of the picture!” Caitlin makes her feelings evidently clear.
“Caitlin has got a point, Lia. You can’t stop her from seeing Y/N/N like you’re trying to do that” Katie chips in, looking at the Swiss woman.
Lia turns to look at Katie in disbelief, “Stay out of this, Katie. This isn’t your argument to get involved in” she says as she begins to collect her stuff. 
“Okay, alright, that’s enough. You’re all causing a scene in here” Kim speaks up loudly as she walks over to them as she overhears the conversation between the 4 adults in the gym, “What is going on?” she asks, glancing between them all.
“Y/N got into trouble at school” Lia begins to explain.
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have known that unless I didn’t overhear Lia and Leah talking about it” Caitlin huffs and rolls her eyes.
“I told you, I was getting round to it” Lia fires back as she scowls at her ex-girlfriend.
“Yeah, right” Caitlin mutters in disagreement, “ “And now she won’t even let me come down to the school with her, when I have every right to do that!” she adds.
“It’s just better this way, Caitlin” Lia explains to her ex-girlfriend, exhaling a sigh.
“Caitlin has every right to be there for Y/N” Katie chips in defending her girlfriend.
“Why are you getting involved in this, Katie?” Leah questions the Irish women.
“Why are you getting so involved, Leah?” Katie fires back at the blonde.
“Seriously, Katie? You just seem to find this whole thing hilarious like it’s one big joke!” Leah mutters, shaking her head, “I’m right to want to be there for Lia in this” she adds.
Kim shakes her head in disbelief at the 4 of them acting like they are, “Alright, that’s enough. Okay?” Kim interjects in an authoritative tone of voice as she looks between the 2 exes, “Regardless of you all blaming each other, it’s not going to help you figure out what is going on with Y/N/N unless you work together” she tells them.
Lia’s facial expression softens in realisation, “You’re right, Kim. I didn’t think about it that way” she admits as she looks at her ex, “Look Caitlin, I’m not trying to push you away like you think I am. I just think it’ll be difficult for us to both be there, right now. I’m sorry and I know Y/N is your daughter and you do have every right to see her, just as I do but I would prefer to do this with Leah by my side instead, okay? I’ll text you and let you know what is said, but please understand I find it better to do this way” she tells the woman quietly, finding it hard enough to be in the room with her ex-girlfriend without dealing with anything else.
Without saying anything more, Lia and Leah left the gym as they quickly notified Jonas about the recent events, before they head out to the car to make the way down to your school to find out what trouble you’ve landed yourself in this time.
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You knew the single minute that you raised your fist at the girl it would end up in dire consequences, however now finding yourself sitting outside the head teachers’ office with bruised and bloody knuckles, you remain hopeful that this latest stunt was something that both of your mums would be coming down to talk to the head teacher.
Although you still can’t help but wonder how it got so bad?
It wasn’t like you could talk to either of your mums though, because most of the time when you spent time with either of them, you didn’t really want to mention the other in case it brought up any sort of hurt feelings, but you needed them both together.
You didn’t really mean to get yourself in that much trouble today, in fact you’ve never really been one to cause many problems at school if you’re being honest, but you were just so sick of them pushing you around and calling you endless names that you finally had enough and lashed out.
As soon as you hear the sound of footsteps nearing you, you remain hopeful as you look up with eager eyes, hopeful to see your two mums together.
However, you’re severely disappointed when its’ your mama and Leah instead.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, you didn’t want Leah to be here with your mama; You wanted your mama and mum together, but why did that seem so impossible to do?
“Hi mama” You mumble, biting your bottom lip as you avoid the disapproving look on both of their faces, “Hi Leah” you acknowledge the presence of the blonde, whos’ stood there obnoxiously chewing gum.
“Hey kid” Leah greets you with a worried smile.
Lia exhales a sigh and shakes her head, “What have you done this time, Y/N/N?” she questions.
“It wasn't my fault” You try to defend yourself, picking at the skin around your nails.
“I find that one hard to believe Y/N. This is the third call I have had from your school this week” Lia reminds you, moving to sit beside you on the uncomfortable plastic chair, “Do you want to tell me what happened before I go in and speak to your head teacher?” she asks.
“Nope” You shake your head in disagreement.
Leah furrows her eyebrows and sits on the other empty chair, “What happened, kid? It’s not like you to be in this much trouble, or acting out in general” she tries to get answers out of you.
You shrug your shoulders carelessly and bite your bottom lip, “Dunno, is mum coming down as well?” you wonder, curiously as you look at Lia.
“No, Y/N/N. It’s just us– Is this why you’ve gotten yourself into trouble at school, so your mum and I would come down together?” Lia asks in realisation, putting the pieces together about it all.
“Maybe, sorta. I don’t know, cos’ it didn’t work anyways” You mumble, deflating your shoulders as you stand up to head into the office after the head teacher calls you all in; Leah and Lia share a look of confusion with another, finding it hard to understand why you would do that as they follow you in behind.
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The result of your behaviour in school leads to you being suspended for the next 2 weeks, which your mama isn’t best pleased with at all if the silence is anything to go by as you trail behind them to the car.
Every time you have tried to talk, you're met with a stern look from the Swiss woman which makes you shut up pretty quickly.
“Mama?” You try your luck to get her a response.
Once again, you were met with complete silence on the car ride back apart from the faint sound of music playing.
“Okay, I know I messed up but how much longer am I going to receive the silent treatment for?” You huff aloud as you peer out the window as your mama drives out of the school car park.
Yet again, complete silence.
“Come on, seriously? The fight wasn’t even my fault in the first place!” You whine in protest, huffing and crossing your arms in the back of the car.
Leah clicks her tongue as she sits in the passenger seat, “You shouldn’t even be fighting in the first place, Y/N” she states sternly.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes and not snap back at the blonde, who you really don’t know why she’s even here, you wanted your mum instead, not her.
“I had my reasons to do it, Leah!” You mutter as you glance out of the window in the back of the car.
“Hey! Be nice” Lia glares at you to knock it off.
“What? I’m not doing anything!” You huff in annoyance and fight the urge to kick the back of her seat, “And I did have a good enough reason!” You still continue to insist.
“I don’t want to hear any of the excuses, Y/N” Lia exhales a sigh, shaking her head.
“But if you just let me explain–” You're cut off before you even have a proper chance to speak.
“Explain what, Y/N/N– How can I be so sure about what you’re telling me when you’ve been acting out like you have been for the last several weeks, huh?” Lia scolds you as she looks in the rear-view mirror, “I don’t know what has even gotten into you anymore, Y/F/N!” she states.
You kinda know that your mama does have a point in saying that, because despite your own rough upbringing with your biological parents, you’ve never really acted out or gotten into much trouble until recently, however with how its’ been the last several weeks, you can’t deny that you haven’t been acting out in an attempt to get the attention both of your mums together in the same room.
It just didn’t work this time round.
You just didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to control the anger any longer and you would end up lashing out like in the way that you did. No matter how many people tried to talk to you to figure out what was going on, nobody really understood what was going on right now.
You can’t help but scoff in response, “You won’t even hear my side of things though, at least I know that mum would take the time to listen to me. Why can’t I go and stay at her house instead?” The words slip out of your mouth without much realisation and it’s definitely loud enough for both women to hear.
“Y/N, your mama wants you to stay with her” Leah chips in.
“Why? And why are you even here when this has nothing to do with you?” You glare at the blonde, although you know it’s not her fault for what’s happening, but despite that you’re a stubborn teenager and refuse to admit when you’re in the wrong sometimes
“Y/N” Lia gasps in shock, “Don’t be rude, you don’t speak to people like that” she scolds you.
“It’s the truth though” You mumble and technically, you’re telling the truth about that one.
The Swiss woman shook her head in disagreement, “There’s no need to be so rude, okay? I won’t stand for it, so apologise please– And you know when it comes to you, that your mum and I are both on the same page” she tells you.
“Are you? Cos’ all you ever seem to do is fight these days” You remark snidefully.
“That’s not true, Y/N/N” Lia frowns at you.
“Yes it is, you guys always argue about me– I can’t even tell you how I feel, so I was only defending myself like how mum taught me to do” You explain to the older women.
“What!?” Lia exclaims in shock.
“Mum taught me self defence in case I ever needed to use it. Definitely showed them that today cos’ now they won’t mess with me again” You grin proudly to yourself.
“Are you… Of course she bloody did” Lia mutters, clenching her hands on the steering wheel.
“Calm down, Wally” Leah rests her hand on the older womens’ thigh.
“Mama, you’re clenching your fists. You might want to just chill out a bit” You note in concern as Lia looks angry and you realise you’re going in a different direction back home, “Where are we going?” you ask.
“Change of plan, Y/N. We’re going to see your mum after all” Lia states as she grips the steering wheel tighter.
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© scribblesofagoonerr
494 notes · View notes
wandanatsgf · 3 months
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Sugar, Sugar Part 1
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Pairing: WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: After losing your job, you are desperate to come up with some money. Your best friend Kate signs you up for a sugar baby app where you meet Wanda and Natasha, who eventually become your sugar mommies.
Authors Note: I've been reading so many sugar mommy!wandanat x reader fics that I wanted to make one myself. I know the beginning is a bit rough, but I'm just trying to set everything up. I promise it will get better!!!! There will also be plenty of smut in the upcoming chapters, this is just a warning for that now. And I plan on making many parts to this. I hope you all enjoy it!
Part 2
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you dramatically exclaim. You drape yourself across the old and slightly musty couch in your small two person apartment. Your work uniform rides up your body a little as you lay down, which you quickly pull down, covering yourself again. You pull your right arm over your eyes, trying to block out the light and the horrible day you just had.
Your best friend and roommate Kate laughs sympathetically at your dramatics. “I know getting fired sucks but there’s tons of ways to make money.” She moves your legs and sits down next to you, placing your legs on top of her.
“Like what?”
“Well you could mow lawns, dog sit, babysit, just until you find another job,” Kate suggests.
“I guess I could but I just don’t know if that would be able to cover my bills and let alone rent.”
“Well there is another thing you can try.” The tone in Kate's voice has you sitting up, removing your arm so you can look at her.
“You remember my friend Darcy that I told you about?”
“Yeah the super rich, successful one.”
“Well when she was in college she was a sugar baby,” Kate says before she cuts herself off to scold you.  “And y/n don’t give me that look just hear me out!”
“Ok fine, keep talking.”
“Well she got a whole bunch of money from it. She was able to pay off her student loans and she had some money leftover that she invested and y’know now she’s rich and super successful and hot and amazing. But that wasn’t the point.” Kate shakes her head at herself, scolding herself for getting off topic like she always does. “Anyway maybe you should try being a sugar baby.”
“I don’t know Kate.” Sure this would be a great opportunity for you, if you find someone that is, but do you really want to use your body to get money?
“You could just look and see what’s out there. You don’t have to accept any sugar daddy or sugar mommy proposals,” Kate says and you’ve got to admit that she’s got a good point.
“Ok what the hell,” you say, agreeing.
“Let me just get the sugar baby app name from Darcy and we can do this.”
A few minutes later the app is downloaded on your phone. You feel nervous but also excited. This could be a way for you to not have to worry about money, at least for a while. Maybe it would be nice to be taken care of.
“Ok it’s downloaded, let’s set it up.” The two of you create your profile and pretty soon you’re looking at sugar mommies and sugar daddies.
“What about this one?” You ask Kate. You pass her the phone, and from the look on her face you can tell that it’s a no go.
“Definitely not,” Kate says, her nose wrinkling up in disgust.
“Why not?”
“I know you, and that’s not what you want.” You have to admit she is right, you don’t really want some 50 year old with a penchant for “parading his girls around” as he called it, but you’re desperate and he is the best looking person on there so far.
You continue to scroll through the men and women, none of them really catching your eye until you see the profile of a beautiful red haired girl and an equally beautiful auburn haired girl. You would recognize their faces anywhere, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the owners of the country's best security company.
“There’s no way this is real,” you say. “This has to be some sort of joke or something.” You pass her your phone and watch as her eyes go comically wide.
“There’s no way the Natasha Romanoff and the Wanda Maximoff are looking for a sugar baby,” you say. You practically scoff at the idea, but there’s still that little voice in your head that wonders if maybe the profile is real.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Kate says. She still has your phone in your hands and you watch as she types, until finally she stops.
“Katie what did you do?”
“I just messaged them,” Kate says innocently. You glance down at the message and it says, “Hi my name is y/n and I’d love to get to know you both and see if I’m what you’re looking for ;),”
“Did you have to add the wink Katie? They’re gonna think I’m like a whore or something now,” you whine.
“Oh relax you big baby. It’s fine. And besides maybe a whore is what they’re looking for,” Kate says, giving you a wink.
“Kate!” You exclaim. You lightly slap her on the arm.
“Owww y/n. You’re very feisty for such a tiny person.”
“Serves you right,” you mutter underneath your breath. The two of you continue to scroll through the app when you see a notification pop up.
Natasha and Wanda had replied to your message.
“Oh my god,” you say. You can feel yourself freaking out, even when you’re going into the texting part of the app and opening the message.
“Hi darling, we’d love to get to know you more too! We’re Natasha and Wanda, we’re both sugar mommies who are looking for a sugar baby to share. We work quite a bit, but we promise that we’ll still have time for you if things work out between us. Can’t wait to hear back from you,” the message reads. You show the message to Kate who responds with excitement.
But you can feel yourself freaking out on the inside even more now. However your doubts from earlier creep in and calm you down. There��s a big chance that this is just a catfish, but you still want to take the chance. Who wouldn’t want an opportunity to be with Natasha and Wanda?
“Help me come up with a response,” you tell the girl sitting next to you. After a few minutes of back and forth, the two of you come up with what you think is the perfect response.
“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I’m y/n, a sugar baby who is currently in college trying to pay off my loans. I normally have plenty of time on my hands and would be able to be around whenever you need.”
You cringe at the last part of the message, which was all Kate’s idea, but clearly it worked because a few minutes later you have a text inviting you out to get some coffee tomorrow afternoon and you say yes.
“You have to come with me though, just in case it’s like a catfish or something,” you tell your best friend. 
“Of course, I’ll sit in the cafe and just text me if you need me,” Kate says reassuring you. 
The next day comes too quickly and before you know it you and Kate are sitting in the cafe waiting for Natasha and Wanda. You’re sitting at a table in the back, while Kate is sitting at a table across the room from you. The minutes seem to drag on forever, making you even more anxious than you already are. Everytime the bell above the door goes off, you glance up, hoping it’s one of the girls walking through. You’re just about to lose hope when you see Natasha and Wanda walk in. They look so breathtakingly beautiful. 
“Hi Y/n,” Wanda says, being the first to greet you. She towers over you as she envelopes you in a hug, which you gladly reciprocate.  
“Hi,” you say back. It comes out quieter than you meant it to. You can feel your cheeks heating up, but gladly both women ignore it. 
“And hi I’m Natasha,” the red haired girl says. She also towers over you, but you like that about the two women. She also envelopes you into a hug. She smells like vanilla and smoke and it gives you a sense of comfort. The three of you sit down and the two women get straight to the point. 
“So as you know we’re looking for a sugar baby,” Natasha says, her voice a low tone. “We just wanted to meet with you today to go over some things and see if we’d get along,” she explains. 
“Ok that sounds good,” you agree. 
“Have you ever been in a dynamic like this before?” 
“No I haven’t,” you say, your blush coming back. You can feel your nerves getting worse as well as you fidget with a ring on your hand. 
“It’s ok to be nervous baby, we won’t bite,” Wanda leans in to tell you. She places her hand on top of yours, stopping your fidgeting. She places her hand in yours, which you gladly hold. 
“That’s alright, we’re pretty new to this too. But there are a couple of things we wanted to go over today. First, when do you have class?”
“Well Tuesday and Thursday mornings I have class until 11am, but besides that my days are wide open.” This answer makes Natasha smile, which in turn makes you smile. 
“What is it that you need help with?” You appreciate that Natasha is getting straight to the point, it’s doing wonders at calming your nerves.
“Mostly rent and some bills. I, uh, just lost my job and it’s been hard to stay afloat.”
“Well that won’t be a problem now that we’re here,” Natasha tells you, sending you a wink. The action sends a blush across your face, turning it a shade of pink. 
"I know this isn't exactly normal," Natasha says, "But we promise if today works out, which I think it will, we'll take care of you darling." Natasha's words make you smile. Normally you were never so shy around people, but the two women next to you really bring it out in you.
“Do you have any questions for us honey?” Wanda asks. 
“Yes actually. What is it exactly that I would be doing?”
“You would keep us company, go to some company functions with us, and,” Natasha says, her voice dropping low as she says the next part, “have sex with us when we want it.”
“But obviously we would work up to that part,” Wanda adds cheerfully. 
“Ok,” you say, taking all of that information in. You knew going into this that sex would be on the table, but it shocks you that these two beautiful women are wanting to do it with you. 
“I’m sorry if this is a weird question, but aren’t the two of you together? What exactly do you need me for?”
“Yes we’re together sweetheart, but we’re not the most compatible in the bedroom.”
“What Wanda means is that we’re both pretty dominant and we need someone submissive to fulfill our needs,” Natasha says. Wanda slaps her on her arm and lightly scolds her, making you giggle. 
“I can do that,” you say, letting both of them know that you want this. The thought of being submissive for both of them stirs a longing within you. You can feel a slight dampness in your panties and you cross your legs, hoping Wanda, who is still holding your hand, doesn’t notice. But of course she does. 
“You already feeling a little needy, baby?” Wanda whispers, her cockiness coming out of nowhere, but god does it turn you on. Her lips ghost on the outer shell of your ear, causing your breathing to become ragged. 
“Mhm,” you manage to get out. 
“You’re so cute when you’re needy. I can’t wait to see just how needy I can make you,” Wanda says. She leans away from you, but not before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, making you go pink.
“Don’t kill the poor girl Wanda,” Natasha scolds. 
“I can’t help it, she’s just so cute,” Wanda says, like you aren't there, which just turns you on even more. 
“Yeah she is,” Natasha agrees. 
You don’t know what to say, too absorbed in your own lust, when Natasha speaks again, snapping you out of it.
“Here are our phone numbers,” she says, slipping you a piece of paper. You take the pieces of paper and program their numbers into your phone and you give them your number and they do the same.
“We’ll text you tomorrow to work out the details and set up a contract, assuming you still want to do this?” Wanda questions. 
“I do,” you reassure her. 
“Then we’ll talk to you tomorrow, detka,” Wanda says. The two women get up, both hugging you goodbye. You watch the two women walk out, having forgotten that Kate was also at the cafe until she comes up to you. 
“Oh my god,” Kate says.
“I know,” is all you say.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to get two sugar mommies.”
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I'm just needing some reassurance, don't mind me.
Warnings: none just fluff and Eddie being a big softie for you.
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"I just really need you, Eddie, and I feel like a spoiled brat for complaining about anything." You looked down, feeling defeated.
You look around the room, avoiding his gaze, knowing you'll break down the moment your eyes meet his. "I miss you.....a lot. I feel horrible for even dumping this on you, because you've done nothing wrong at all"
Eddie already did so much for you as is. He was always there for you. He always made sure you were taken care of. He always made sure you were safe. He'd buy you anything you asked for.
You've been feeling insecure since your lack of intimacy lately and lack of quality time in general. He wasn't around much a lot since working extra hours at the plant. You really miss him and feel bad for expressing your feelings so suddenly. You didn't want to seem ungrateful. You didn't want to make it seem like what he did for you wasn't good enough.
"Baby, look at me." His deep voice finally spoke after letting you vent about everything you've kept bottled up.
You look up at him as he speaks to you. Your eyes glassy, full of tears that threaten to spill out. You're worried he just doesn't want you anymore.
You're also terrified since expressing your feelings that it'll drive him away. You never want to push him away. You know that's not true. He's given no indications of that at all. But you get in your own head way too much.
"Don't feel guilty for expressing how you feel to me. Please dont think you're being selfish for wanting my attention. Dont think you're spoiled because you want to spend some time with me." He has a soft expression on his face as he gets up to kneel down closer to you.
"....you literally can have me whenever. I'm at your beckon call." He takes your hands into his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.
"You really mean that?" You cleared your throat, trying your very best not to cry. He always seemed to know exactly what to say.
Eddie smirked and moved to sit on the couch. He patted his thighs, signaling you to sit in his lap.
"I promise I meant everything. You want me all to yourself? You bet your ass you can have me all to yourself. want me for only a little bit? You can keep me until you're sick of me. Lock me in your basement, " he reassured, wrapping his arms around you. you snuggled up to him and laid your head on his chest.
"You always know how to make me feel better." You took the collar of his Dio shirt to wipe your eyes.
"ya know you can talk to me about anything. Always. You're my partner in crime."He whispered in your ear, squeezing you tight.
"Well then, can I keep you all night long and all day tomorrow?" You smiled and played with the ends of his curly hair.
He chuckled. "You can keep me forever, sweetheart."
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megumisgirl · 11 months
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megumi boyfriend headcanons!
— when you guys first started dating, he was no where near the touchy-feely boyfriend. all you got were hugs, kisses on the forehead and sometimes, if you were lucky long deep passionate kisses that came out of nowhere. all in private of course, megumi likes to keep things that is between you guys between you guys, he doesn't tell gojo, yuuji, nobara, anyone.
— when you guys had your first fight, he was super furstrated. screamed a bit and let his hidden anger issues show (you can thank toji for that). in the spur of the moment, out of furstration and pent up sexual-anger he ran his hands through his hair, making you flinch. he immidietly stopped talking and just left the room. the topic you guys were fighting about wasn't cleared up, you both were obviously angry, and now with this, you both were going to have a conversation that none of you wanted.
— the next few days of the fight, megumi would try to talk to you but you would give him the silent treatment. it was a no-win situation, if you tell him you flinched for nothing, he'd feel horrible to even make you think that he was capable of hitting you. if you told him the real reason, a dark looming thought in your mind told you that maybe he wouldn't accept you for who you are. maybe he would leave you. people started to notice that you and megumi weren't together as much.
"meeeegumiiii" gojo cooed, making megumi roll his eyes, "did you and y/n have a fight? you can tell me. im basically your second father. not that im gay. i mean i could be, but like the sex-" "no." megumi stopped gojo, putting his hand in front of him, "we're not in a fight. and its a disagreement. we'll be fine." he'd already said too much for someone who says nothing. but he had too much in his mind, so the words just spilled out.
— after the intial conversation, at first, megumi didn't know how to comprehend what you just said to him. he never had to comfort someone and he was never comforted either, so he based himself on your position and did everything right. my man. he was sweet, gentle, and never judged you.
— megumi got comfortable with affection about seven-nine months into the relationship only because you were so touchy, other wise would've taken four years or smth. and his level of affection is holding-hands in public, and holding your hands above your head in private, if you catch my meaning...
— when he met your parents, he was PROPERRR. mans was dressed in a fucking suit, styled his hair right instead of the spikey usual hair, and showed the barest amount of physical affection to assure your parents their daughter is in the right hands.
— but when you met his, it was CHAOS lmaooo. toji was showing you all the embarassing baby pictures of megumi on purpose to embarass him. his step-wise called him embarassing nicknames like bubbles or pineapples or something and you couldnt believe why megumi was the way he was when they were like this.
truth be told, megumi was made for you (and me).
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NSFW cannons.
— i said this once and i'll say it again. MEGUMI IS A ROUGH DOM!!! man-handles you every chance he gets, whether it's spreading your legs apart so roughly that there are bruises on his hands on your thighs, or flipping you over to pound you from behind. he will do it all.
— favourite position, anything where he can see you. missionary, to some extent matting press? he loves to see you squeeze your eyes, arch your bag and whine inconsistent pleas. he loves to see the full of personality character that he's so into just dissappear as he pounds into you mercilessly. the perfect smart girl becoming a bimbo that he loves to use and fuck.
— has a thing for eye-contact. BEFORE U THROW TOMATOS AT ME... LISTEN OKAY..1!!1!! when you're giving head, he grips your jaw so he can see your eyes as he fucks your mouth, tears streaming down your face, getting mixed with the tastes of his arousal. when its you recieving, he is adamant about eye-contact.
he has been inbetween your leg for hours, absolutely devouring you while making you watch. your eyes are sore, your legs are sore, everything is sore. you cant move an inch without feeling sensitive and your entire body just shakes as he laughs at you, looking at you with his blue eyes. "look at me." he said, the vibrations from his throat hitting your soaked cunt as you whimpered, opening your eyes just enough for new tears to leave your face. making a thin smirk place on his lips. his tounge circled your bud, making you shut your eyes again. "eye-contact, or this stops."
— dirty talker. and not just any dirty talker, the sweet praise ones. "my little slut," "taking me so well, baby. you're such a whore, but.. you're my whore," FHBYIEDWUSOKPX
— ending on a positive note, he's good at aftercare, too. after an intense session, he will draw you a bath and just sit on the edge of the tub, drawing mindless circles on your arm as you rest in the warm bath. ocasionally stealing kisses from you as he watched you take a bath. he's just... perfect.
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konigsblog · 5 months
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tw: stepcest, dubcon, coercion&manipulation, slight age gap (20s-30s)
older brother!soap and younger stepsister!reader is rotting my brain away -- slowly. :3
johnny has a thing for manipulating his little stepsister into wanting him. he coerces you — guilt tripping you for not immediately having sex with him when he came home from deployment. it's gross. you know it's gross. it's depraved for johnny to be like his towards you; his younger, naive stepsister.
he knows there's a power dynamic, especially with how easily influenced you are!! you take his criticism and work towards whatever expectations he has of you. so when johnny complains about you being a prude, you desperately try to fulfil his needs by becoming a whore for him.
coming over to his apartment on the occasion and doing whatever he asks. you always feel used afterwards, like your nativity and sensitivity was taken advantage of. he knows how you take whatever he says as criticism, and he uses it against you!!
“ye’ dinae show enough’ skin, bonnie.” he mutters, watching how you swallow his cock greedily, on your knees before him. your lips are tightly wrapped around his thick, meaty shaft, gagging on him with mascara ruining your cheeks, rolling down along with your tears. you gulp, uncomfortable, but pressured and desperately wanting to prove yourself as a good girl — an obedient stepsister. slowly, you take your shirt off, tensing up at he sound of his hoarse chuckles.
“good lassie.”
he leans back, head cocked to the side. he tuts quietly, catching your attention as you pump him. “up--c’mere. wanna get a better look at those tits’.” on shakey legs, you straddle his lap, pussy already wet and slick as you ease down onto his hard, throbbing dick. your tits bouncing in his face was already driving him utterly insane. he couldn't help but touch you, grope your ass and breasts while you needily worked your hips down onto him in an attempt at getting compliments and love from your stepbrother.
johnny does feel sympathy, he feels pity for you. you take everything to heart and you're so, so sensitive. you sulk when he tells you you're covering up too much, and you especially can't help but cry when he tells you that you're being a horrible stepsister for not letting him fuck you when he's home from his hardworking job.
don't you care about his needs? he's a man, your stepbrother... surely you trust him, right?
—you allow him regardless, crying into his pillow as he fucks and degrades you for not listening.
“jus’ relax onto me, doll.” he whispers, pushing you down. he feels as you fuck and ride him, holding back tears when he drags his cold fingers down your hardened nipples. he sucks them, pushing your tits against his face as you buck and rock your hips. you pant breathlessly, bouncing so that he can reach his orgasm, following along with his little game just so you can be a good stepsister — a people pleaser.
he bucks into you, covering your nipples into saliva, looking up at you with cruel, lovesick eyes. your nipples puffy and his lips glossy, his load covering your gummy walls in a thick layer of his semen, oozing into you.
“such a good, dumb lass, ain’t’cha? so precious, always followin’ along so well, jus’ like ye’ should for yer’ older stepbrother, aye?”
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gracieheartspedro · 8 months
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Somewhere With You
Part 4 of How Long
pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller
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FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!
description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.
word count: 5.3k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.
author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!
“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”
Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”
You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since. 
The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah. 
Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family. 
You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again. 
Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.
“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred. 
“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered. 
Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too. 
You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change. 
Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.” 
You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”
Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter. 
“In a rush, dear?”
The nickname makes his heart race.
He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”
“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”
He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice. 
“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?” 
It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.
“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her. 
It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table. 
“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”
You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.
“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”
He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”
“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”
He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.
“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”
“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again. 
Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”
He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat. 
-
Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder. 
You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase. 
The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him. 
This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you. 
You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second. 
“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.  
He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”
No offer. Maybe you could propose it?
“Maybe I could just spend the night.”
The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him. 
“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”
He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms. 
“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”
He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him. 
When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air. 
“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”
As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel. 
“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”
“Sarah Jane!”
-
You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff. 
“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”
He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.
“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”
You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”
“That so?”
You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.
You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”
The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.
“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body. 
You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”
He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones. 
Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin. 
When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed. 
“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.
“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate. 
He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”
His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight. 
“Joel, please.”
He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”
“I want you all over, Joel.”
“Yeah? Where? Here?” 
He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl. 
You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression. 
“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved. 
“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth. 
“Always am.”
Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.
“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”
He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm. 
“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”
“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”
“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”
You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently. 
His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language. 
When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum. 
“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”
His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs. 
“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”
Your stomach drops, “Like what?”
He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”
You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.
“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”
“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”
You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”
He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples. 
“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”
He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you. 
But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation. 
“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”
You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”
“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”
You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster. 
But, no.
“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”
You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”
He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions. 
“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”
“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”
Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum. 
You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.
He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm. 
“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”
You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”
He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”
“Yes, please.”
-
Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed. 
Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake. 
You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum. 
“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord. 
“Mornin’ handsome.”
You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked. 
“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”
He silently nods, looking at you confused.
“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”
You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet. 
“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”
“Well, you do.”
He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task. 
You were his dream girl, truly.
Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture. 
“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. 
“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.
“Both.”
You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it. 
This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did. 
It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before. 
As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.
“What is going on here?”
His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s. 
When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before. 
Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”
But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you. 
“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”
He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords. 
“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”
Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive. 
“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?” 
His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes. 
Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”
“Answer the fuckin’ question!”
You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane. 
You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was. 
Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.
“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“
Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words. 
“Not your girl.”
You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off. 
Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”
Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing. 
“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower. 
“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”
You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way. 
“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”
The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit. 
“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”
He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”
You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”
“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”
Now you’re laughing. 
“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth. 
“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”
Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face. 
“Fuck you!”
Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor. 
The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name. 
When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you. 
“Don’t.”
It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door. 
You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is. 
Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip. 
“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”
“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation. 
“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”
Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose. 
“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”
Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes. 
“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”
It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat. 
“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”
Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly. 
Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care. 
He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen. 
Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them. 
But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry. 
You kind of scared yourself. 
“Joel-”
“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”
“Joel, we can’t d-”
“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”
You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.
You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl. 
You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect. 
“I love you, okay?”
His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.
“I love you, too, Joel.”
767 notes · View notes
snowfll · 6 months
Text
A Soldier I Will Be; Treech
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pairing - Treech x mentor!reader summary - your one goal was to get him out of the arena, you didnt care what the Capital thought of you words - 2.54k warning - fluff! note - I am actually in love w Treech, there isn't enough fanfics about him on the internet so I decided to write my own! part 2 part 3
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The day arrived for the reaping of the 10th annual Hunger Games, and you were far from excited. The games are cruel and unfair to district citizens, and your values set you apart from the heartless enthusiasm displayed by many in the Capitol.
Walking into the giant room filled with Academy students, you heard the whispers of those you passed. You learned to ignore everyone after years of being treated differently, but there were only two people you could tolerate: Sejanus Plinth and Coriolanus Snow.
“Ms. Graham, I'm glad you made it after all.” Sejanus Plinth, the only other person open about their hatred for the games.
“Oh, you know they would drag me into this either way, Sejanus.” He had previously warned you that the Plinth prize would not be awarded that day, and in its place, something that goes against everything the two of you stood for.
Although you voiced your opinions, you were still a capital sweetheart. As you come from one of the oldest and richest families in the capital, you were expected to act a certain way, despite your rebellious spirit.
Sitting between Coriolanus and Sejanus, you heard a throat being cleared, signaling the beginning of the reaping. Casca Highbottom, the one and only creator of Hunger Games, chugged down a vial of what looked to be morphling.
“The prize is a bit different this year. The top performing students will each receive a tribute, only one, and whichever tribute… performs the best, will receive the prize. Winning is set aside but will be taken into consideration…”
So this is what the capital had planned—put the capital kids in charge of the district kids? You couldn’t help but feel horrible for Sejanus, coming from the districts, he was bound to be given a tribute from his old home, District 2.
Dean Highbottom started announcing which student would mentor what district. When it came to Sejanus, you were right; they gave him the District 2 male tribute. Reaching over, you grabbed his hand in hopes of providing a sense of comfort. On multiple occasions, he has expressed to you how being from the districts has affected him.
“District 7 male,” you heard Highbottom pause before looking up to you, “belongs to Ms.Graham.”
Making your way to the big screen in front of you, you saw your tribute. He was staring straight into the camera, almost like he could sense you were watching him. ‘Treech’, you read below his figure. You couldn’t help but smile, but it was soon replaced with a frown once you saw the condition he was in.
You took in the image of the boy; he seemed your age—maybe 17 or 18? The hat he wore looked bent out of shape and covered his dark eyes. He looked as if he were about to scream or cry, and he was trying his hardest to act tough in front of his district. All you felt was pity and a sense of needing to help him survive.
After all the mentors were given their tribute and a speech from Dr. Gaul, the head gamemaker, the ceremony was brought to an end. Sejanus was called by his father, and he bid you goodbye. “I’m going to the tributes train arrival, and you’re coming with me." You jumped at the sudden voice and turned around to see Coriolanus staring at you.
“And why would I?” You crossed your arms, unsure why he wanted you, of all people, to accompany him. Sure, you were friends, but you didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye on things, often bickering while Sejanus was there to calm you both down.
“The peacekeepers will let me in if you are with me,” he explained, knowing that most peacekeepers know not to mess with you. “They won’t turn you down; you’re the capital’s top sweetheart.”
It’s true; every peacekeeper knew of your existence and obeyed you in fear of upsetting your father. You didn’t like to take advantage of your capital status, but it did come in handy when you got into trouble.
“Fine,” you agreed, “but only on one condition: you leave me and my tribute alone.” Coriolanus nodded his head and explained that you two would meet at the train station the next morning before school.
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
Arriving at the station, you walked up to Coriolanus, who was already waiting there with a white rose in his hand. Groups of peacekeepers were stationed every few feet. Guns in hand, ready to shoot at any kind of violent nature.
A loud whistle was heard, causing your head to snap towards the track, where a large mechanical train began to slow. Once the train pulled into the station, you took notice of the carriages; there were 12, one for each district. The peacekeepers that once stood still were now making their way towards the train. Slowly, they began to open the carts, and tribute after tribute came out. As each tribute climbed off the train, you were on the lookout for ‘Treech’.
Passing by each cart and watching each pair climb down, you eventually found the pair from District 7. Lamina, whom you remembered as Pliny’s tribute, noticed you as you walked up to her. Her eyes were red from the tears that hadn’t stopped falling. You gave her a warm smile, which she returned, except there was a sad look in her eye.
“Who are you?” A voice called out from next to Lamina, and your face turned to see your tribute. He had placed a protective hand in front of his district partner, like you were going to hurt her. You felt sad at the fact that he thought you would hurt either of them.
Reaching your hand out, you told him your name, “But everyone calls me by my last name, Graham, so it’s up to you!” As he looked at your hand, hesitant to shake it, you realized you hadn’t explained why you were there. "Oh, right, I’m your mentor. Thought it was the right thing to come and introduce myself as you arrived in the capital."
“Well, I don’t need no mentor. I don’t want your help." He spat with a look of disgust in his eyes, causing you to lower your hand and stare awkwardly at the ground. You heard Lamina whispering to him something about how he should be nice to you. Looking up, you smiled at her again as a sign of thanks for being kind to you, even though she didn’t know you.
“I don’t have to be nice to her, Lamina, she’s from the capital." He looked at you up and down as if trying to prove his point with your outfit. You could understand why he was acting like that—if you were in his spot, you wouldn’t trust anyone from the capital.
“I am just here to help you; I don’t mean any harm." You saw his face start to soften but quickly change back to his sour expression once two peacekeepers appeared behind you and began to drag the pair towards a big van being filled with the other tributes. The two stared at you as you began to chase after them.
“Hey, where is that van taking them?" You called out to a peacekeeper, who just rolled his eyes and walked away from you. “Don’t ignore me.” Before you could walk back up to them, you felt someone grab your arm. You were ready to hit whoever it was, but you realized it was only Coriolanus.
“Just wait; once the peacekeepers aren’t looking, we will sneak into the van.” You nodded softly, praying that you were able to be by Treech’s side the entire time.
As you made your way into the van, you were pushed to the ground as it started to move. You saw many of the tributes staring at you and Coriolanus as the two of you stuck out like a sore thumb with your bright red uniforms. The tributes had threatened to attack the two of you, one of them even grabbing Coriolanus by his shirt. Fortunately, Lucy Gray stepped in for Coriolanus as Treech pulled you up off the floor once he saw you sitting there, afraid for your life. He stayed standing in front of you, with Lamina behind you, instead of going back to his spot, standing with his hand grabbing the bar above his head.
There was a sudden stop, causing everyone in the van to jerk forward before it began to tip over. Once the doors opened, everyone flew out, falling on the hard rocks. You groaned as you tumbled down, and you ended up landing next to Treech, who groaned as well. Noticing his hat was no longer on his head, you looked around before crawling to grab it for him. He muttered a quick thank you as he took it from your grasp.
“Where are we?” He questioned, seeming confused about where they were dumped. As you fully took in your surroundings, you gasped. The tall bars and the animal-like environment—they dumped everyone in the Capital Zoo.
“They are keeping you in the zoo? You guys are not animals. How could they do this?” You were beyond outraged. They force them to fight each other to death and don’t even give you a decent sleeping place.
Turning to Treech, you kept apologizing over and over, “I am so sorry about this; I had no idea they were going to keep you here.” He looked like he did when you saw him at the reaping, as if he were about to cry.
"Well, look over here; is that another Academy student I see?” The two of you turned your heads to see Lucky Flickerman and his camera crew on the opposite side of the bars. It looked as if he had just finished talking to Coriolanus and Lucy Gray. "Ahh, isn’t it, Ms. Graham? You're certainly a favorite here in the  capital." You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not; either way, you walked over to him, dragging Treech behind you, who was protesting the action.
"Hello, Lucky, it is nice to see you again. Have you met my tribute yet? Treech, here, is quite the gentleman." You continued to talk him up to the camera while he just stood there behind you.
“It was amazing to speak to you, and thank you for introducing Treech to us, but it seems as if you are about to be whisked out of the cage.” He warned you as you turned around to see a peacekeeper making his way to you as another made his way to Coriolanus. To try and avoid any more violence, you stepped away from Treech as a sign of your cooperation, but the peacekeeper still grabbed you with a great deal of force.
“Don’t touch her like that." Treech yelled as the peacekeeper tightened his grip on your arm, “You’re going to hurt her.”
“They won’t even dare to hurt me; don’t you worry about me." You called after him as he looked at you with fear in his eyes. Lamina had to hold his arm to warn him not to go after you. “Take care of yourself; I will be back later today." The last thing you saw before you were forced to exit the enclosure was Treech giving you a hesitant smile. It was barely noticeable, but, you know, it took a lot for him to do it.
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
Unfortunately, you weren’t able to make it after school like many of your other classmates. By the time you arrived at the zoo, it was dark and everyone was already gone.
“Treech, where are you?” you whisper-yelled for him as you made your way to the bars. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it earlier in the day; my father did not like the little stunt I pulled. I had to sneak out to be here.” As he made his way to where you were, you started to pull packages of food and water out of your bag.
“Did you bring anything for me?” He asked, sitting down, once he saw you cross your legs on the floor.
“I sure did. Tons of stuff." You began to list off everything you brought. “I even brought enough for Lamina, so be sure to share with her.” As you handed him everything, he turned around and tossed some of it into her lap.
“Did her mentor stop by?” You nodded your head towards Lamina. You were curious to see if Pliny would actually take on his role as a mentor or just sit back and let you do it, knowing you cared for them.
“He did for a few minutes, but she didn’t speak to him,” he sighed, remembering the event that occurred a few hours prior. “She only wanted to speak to you. She seems to trust you, but how do I know I can?” He asked, taking a bite of the cookie you brought him.
"Well, for starters, I made that cookie you are eating, and I don’t bake for just anyone,” you said as he bit into it again. “Secondly, I care about you. I don’t agree with how the capital treats the district.”
He looked at you like he didn’t expect you to feel that way. “You better not be lying to me, sweetie. Are you sure you aren’t in it for the money? We heard that man mention it to his camera earlier.”
“Oh, I don’t care for the prize; even if I win it, it just ties me down to the capital like I owe them something, and that is the last thing I want when I try and escape this hell.” One day, you were going to leave the capital; you truly were not meant for this place. You explained to him that you wanted to hide out in one of the districts and live out your life away from the capital.
“Whose side are you on? Are you a saint or a sinner, Ms. Graham?” He shot you a look before continuing. “I have a feeling the way you treat me isn’t going to be liked by the capital. I’ve grown quite fond of you, so I’d hate to see them turn against you in the comfort of your own home.”
“I don’t care if the capital hates me for protecting you. It doesn’t matter if they won’t take me back, Treech; all I care about is getting you out of this.” You grabbed his hand through the bar to provide comfort. At that moment, he knew you weren’t lying, but just for safe measure, you spoke up again.
“I’ll throw away my status, just to keep you safe.”
The relationship between you and Treech evolved from mentor and tribute to something deeper. Bonds formed in the face of distress were not easily broken, and you both found strength in each other.
As the 10th annual Hunger Games continued, the Capitol was about to witness a different kind of uprising—one fueled by empathy, compassion, and a shared desire for freedom. And at the center of it all was the unexpected alliance between a Capitol sweetheart and a district tribute determined to defy the odds.
583 notes · View notes
redclercs · 1 year
Text
DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
v. i gave my blood, sweat and tears for this
— the one where both of you have given everything to be where you are.
warnings: misogyny, sexual harassment, this is how monaco went btw i accept no criticism. barely proofread, sorry. 3.7k words (+ article, podcast excerpts)
masterlist ✢ next
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'Have we let y/n y/ln get away with way too much?'
By Alan Gomez
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Yes folks, it might be our own fault, we have created a monster in the form y/n y/ln. Mediocre actress at best and with an even worse personality, if the latest events are any indication.
But how could we let this happen? Come on, we're smarter than this!
The thing is, y/n brainwashed us into believing that her doe-eyed, no-brain characters were actually her. Don't beat yourselves up over this too much, even I was a victim of those pretty eyes. But now that the blindfold has fallen, we have come to realize we have let y/n get away with everything!
You might know y/n from Supercut, the romantic comedy that took the world by storm in 2019, where she starred alongside Aidan Kim and it lead to these two becoming one of the general public’s most cherished couples. At least until two months ago, when their breakup was announced via Inside Out. Although there haven’t been any official statements, given the circumstances, we believe it was the actress who broke it off with Kim.
RELATED:
→ Aidan Kim and friends at Cannes Film Festival
→ Y/N supports alleged boyfriend at charity football match
But whether she’s dating a new guy now or not, why do we keep letting her do whatever she wants?
How did she actually brainwash us into thinking she’s anything close to an “it girl”? After Supercut, all she’s done is the absolute bare minimum to keep people talking about her, it’s all RomComs and no effort. I didn’t want to be that person, and you have to believe me on this, but Aidan Kim made her.
Let’s remember Aidan built his career from the ground as a member of Star-5 the early 2010’s boyband that split in 2018. He was the ‘someone’ in the relationship. How can people even compare having the hit song “Round and Round” in your résumé to being in Scream (Netflix) and The Mist (again, Netflix)?
Aidan made us like her and the writers of Parisian Valentine, The Hating Game and Last Night In Love, did her a HUGE favor by consolidating her as the “Queen of RomComs” by what standard? Well, don’t ask me.
The truth is, we accepted y/n into our hearts and homes, thanks to Aidan Kim and an unbelievable amount of luck, and we haven’t held her accountable for anything ever.
Here’s what I’m talking about, if you’re still wondering what the point of this article is, click on every link to be taken to the whole context, you’ll thank me later:
❍Y/N yells at paparazzi to leave her alone as she walks around Beverly Hills with Victoria Presley.
❍ Y/N praises Taylor Swift while tearing down several male artists for writing songs about their personal experiences.
❍ Y/N says in interview with ELLE that not every movie has to be “profound”.
And just for fun:
❍ A collection of Y/N’s disastrous looks.
It’s time we realize y/n y/ln is talentless, has a horrible personality and feigns innocence she certainly doesn’t have. You will NOT continue to take advantage of us, y/n! It’s all over for you, so I’m glad you’re dropping your pathetic career to become a WAG. #Y/NIsOverParty.
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↺ FROM ❛WE WATCH❜ PODCAST
Paul Byrnes: Can y/n really do another role now, after all she’s known for are romantic comedies?
Anna Sanchez: well, I really liked her in The Mist, she did great as character in a horror it was—
Paul Byrnes: No one cares about The Mist, Anna, just you.
Anna Sanchez: all I’m saying is she’s a good actress, she can do other things. That was your question, Paul.
Paul Byrnes: Well, in my opinion she can't and that's it.
↺ FROM ❛IT TALK❜ PODCAST
Greg Zane: Let's talk y/n y/ln and her fashion choices now that she's an F1 WAG. What do we think?
Riley Green: She's a what now? How long has it been since she broke up with Aidan Kim?
Martha Vincent: I think she's looking great, I just wish she'd let go of the ugly caps.
Riley Green: No seriously, how long did she stay single?
Greg Zane: I agree Martha, but caps are big in Formula 1, nothing we can do about that. I'm wondering if she'll go for a more glamorous look in Monaco.
Riley Green: guys? hello?
Martha Vincent: Oh Riley, we're not talking about her love life, let it go.
↺ FROM ❛HOLLYWOOD VIBES❜ PODCAST
Pauline Oscar: [cont.] I'm just so curious about the reason of their breakup, why hasn't anyone said anything?! It must be juicy.
Brenda Yim: I feel like it's bad for one of them, most likely y/n. Hello, can anyone offer one of their friends some money? Just like old times!
Pauline Oscar: [laughs] Definitely! We need to know! Can it get any worse than the fact that she's already with another guy? What's his name? Charles Le what? She soooo cheated.
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liked by charles_leclerc, vicpresley, mati.bassi, carlossainz55 and others.
ynfreesia UM THE LIKES?
xxynbaby it's "monaco" of course
aidanluvs you don't even have the decency to pretend like you're alone? fuck you
ynredstar i cannot defend you if you pull this shit girl
mati.bassi great view for breakfast with my best girl!💕
ynredstar oh ynredstar nevermind thanks mati ↳ feels4aidan don't be so gullible she's obviously covering up for them
THE COMMENTS FOR THIS POST ARE DISABLED.
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May 27th, Montecarlo, Monaco.
THERE are tears in your eyes, and despite your best efforts not to let them run down your cheeks, it's futile. The worst part is that you're the one doing this to yourself. There's zero need to read 'articles' from pseudo journalists on how a man gave you your career and how you're tossing it into the trash for another. Not to mention the cascade of curses you received for a picture on instagram, where everyone thought you were with the other man.
Has your life really come to this? People don't talk about you unless a guy is involved? You loathe it. Your career was never about Aidan, and it's not about Charles now. Who only makes things worse every time he shows up and yet you can't manage to bring it up to him.
It's embarrassing. You don't want to walk up to him during whatever free time he has in a hectic weekend, and ask him if it really doesn't annoy him everything the press has made up about the two of you, or if he's really that unbothered by being paired up with you in the wildest scenarios, and tell him that he can shut them down whenever he feels like it (you wish he would already), and let him know you won't mind whatever he says about not being involved with you.
But no, Mr. Leclerc is busy giving unclear answers at interviews and liking your instagram posts, as if this isn't already a wildfire.
You put down your phone and pick it back up almost immediately, Vic's ringtone fills your hotel room and you wipe away your tears before answering her FaceTime request.
"Were you crying?" it's the first thing she says, moving her sunglasses to the top of her head. There's a lot of noise in the background and you can barely make the words out, but she comes so close to the phone that all you can see is the tip of her nose. "Why were you crying?"
"It's nothing, Vic. What's up?" you sigh, rubbing your eyes only makes things worse but you don't want to worry about that now.
"I just got to Monaco, babe," the phone is at a safe distance from her nostrils again and you can see around her, the airport where you landed a few days ago. "I'm with my parents," she rolls her eyes, lowering her voice. "But if you could get me into the Ferrari Suite I can hang out with you tomorrow!"
They allowed you one guest and the spot has already been taken by Mati, so there really isn't much you can do in terms of getting her into the Ferrari Suite. "Well, let me see what I can do, okay?"
"Okay," she sounds unsure, you know Vic enough to be sure she expected a different answer. "I mean my parents have Lounge privileges but it's more fun to be with you."
Had she said something about coming to Monaco you might have been able to do something, but as far as you were concerned she planned to stay in France all week, enjoying Cannes and mingling.
"I'll do my best Vic, but you know how they are," you exhale heavily, "Plus it's a crazy-ass weekend."
"Isn't it always?" she's yawning now, "We can meet for dinner later and you can tell me what's up alright? Being with my parents is so boring."
You shake your head, "Be nice, they just want to hang out with you. I'll call you after Quali," you check the clock on top of the nightstand, it's 10 am. You have to get ready for FP3, which you don't care about attending or not but Stuart Schaffer asked to see you, so you haven't got much of a choice.
"Sure babes, love you." Vic pulls her sunglasses down again and blows a kiss to the screen.
"Love you too," it's your turn to yawn as you tap the hang up button.
You look at the special edition Ferrari cap you received as a gift yesterday on top of your suitcase and immediately discard the idea of wearing it. No caps. And then the wave of disgust invades you, are you seriously going to do what some random man said on a podcast you came across by accident?
The answer is yes, unfortunately.
─────────
You would rip your leg off if you could, at least it would mean you’d be able to get out of this chair and away from Stuart. But his palm resting on top of your knee feels like a death grip and you’re frankly afraid to move in case it goes further up.
Mati decided to skip FP3 and you’re really hoping she’ll be on time for Quali because you have no one else to talk to, Stuart is just parading you around again and keeping you way too close for comfort because he’s in a great mood since both Ferraris maintained their top spots and things are looking hopeful for Qualifying.
You know it’s your chance to ask if you can bring Victoria around tomorrow, and you know the answer will be yes, but you don’t. You don’t want to ask things from this man, he’s the type to never forget a debt.
You barely catch a glimpse of Carlos and Charles as they walk by on the way to their debrief and Charles waves at you quickly, with a single-dimpled smile. He’s wearing the same cap you refused to put on.
“I’m going to call my friend,” you blurt out once Charles is out of sight, finally moving your leg back to make Stuart’s hand drop. “She had the worst hangover, I have to check up on her.”
“Oh, you girls get wild in Monaco,” Stuart cackles as you sprint away from him, actually resisting the urge to wipe your knee clean.
"Hey y/n!" Mati's voice can barely be heard above the EDM playing wherever she is. "What's up?"
"Where are you?" you whine, looking back inside the Suite. "Help."
"What's wrong?" you picture her frowning as she tries to walk away from the noise helplessly.
You feel guilty for worrying her so you sigh. "Nothing, I just hate being here. Are you coming here for Qualifying?"
"Yep," she pops the 'p' and laughs. "Listen, why don't we have lunch here at the yacht and then go back for Quali?"
"Yes!" once again you look over your shoulder to where the Elix men are laughing at their own jokes and patting each other's backs. “I’m on my way, okay?”
“I’ll be right here, also don’t scare me like that again, please.”
“Sorry,” you chuckle, embarrassed. Maybe you’re a bit dramatic at times, but it’s really all good-natured. “See you in a minute.”
You turn to the door of the Suite, giving a short jump back when you open it at the same time as someone else.
“Oh, god,” you sigh, stepping inside as Charles moves out of the way to let you in. “Thanks.”
“Sorry I scared you,” he smiles, closing the door again once you’re fully in. Charles is once again holding a closed Elix can, tapping his fingers on the side.
You eye it suspiciously, wondering if the thing has really grown on him. After all, one of the first things he told you was how much it disgusted him.
“It’s alright. I thought you were in your debrief?” You grab a can of Elix yourself, looking good in front of the sponsors cannot hurt.
“It was a short one. Keep doing what you’re doing kind of thing,”
“Right. Well, good for both of you,” you look around for Carlos but he’s nowhere to be seen. “Would it jinx it to say ‘good luck’ for later?”
You know many sportspeople take their jinxes and rituals way seriously, and you don’t want to be the one to blame if something goes wrong for the local star.
Charles considers this for a second and then shakes his head no. “Wish me luck,” he smiles.
“Good luck, Charles.” You beam back at him, enjoying—despite yourself—the way his eyes burn into yours.
─────────
You’re back at the Suite with Mati 10 minutes before Qualifying starts. The tension that had seeped out of your body in the form of laughter and loud singing with Mati is already making its way back to your back and jaw. You’re not ready to be around the Elix people again, but you must. However, first, you make Matilde promise she won’t leave your side.
Stuart Schaffer is already patting the empty seat next to him when you make your way through the refreshment tables. You smile at him, a muscle in your cheek falters as you walk past him on your way to the balcony, to catch both Ferraris leaving the garage.
“Oh don’t drink that,” you whisper when you see Mati walk your way, two cans of Gold Elix in her hands. “Don’t.”
Matilde snorts, “You’re literally the ambassador of this thing, and you don’t like it?”
“SHHH!”
“Fine, but those guys are looking at us so we have to at least sip it.”
You groan, opening the one she offers you and then taking a huge gulp. “Yum,” you mock.
Mati laughs again before her face goes sour with the taste. “Oh my God,”
“Warned you,” yet you take another sip. You think that if it grew on Charles it might grow on you, but you don’t really see it happening.
Q1 and Q2 go by smoothly, at least for Ferrari and you’re on the edge of your seat for Q3. This is the race you’ve been more excited for, but it’s not like you’ve attended many others. Still, Monaco just hits different.
The end of Q3 almost gives you a heart attack, although you also blame your almost empty Elix. You didn’t even notice how much you drank, but the thing that really gets your heart jumping out of your chest is Victoria’s ringtone.
Begrudgingly, you turn away from the track. She has texted you a thousand times, without exaggerating, since Quali started and you know it’s because she’s bored out of her mind at the Lounge with her parents. But you’re starting to find this genuinely entertaining and you are bothered by the distraction.
“I told you I’d call you after Quali, Vic,” you singsong, looking up at the screens inside the Suite.
“Well Quali is almost over, no one cares about the last three minutes.”
You do, Max Verstappen is in first place, then Charles and Checo in P3. You’re crossing your fingers for Charles to manage to get above both Red Bulls. And for Carlos to squeeze in there too.
You don’t say anything else, too enthralled by the battle on the screen.
“Y/n?” Vic raises her voice, “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes Vic, what is it?”
“We’re going to be at Ferrari together tomorrow, right?”
You wince, glad she chose a phone call instead of FaceTime this time around. You haven’t asked and you don’t intend to. Vic still has VIP Lounge access, she’ll be fine.
“They said no, Vic.” You lie, your eyes scanning the screen, it’s the last lap before they get the checkered flag out. “I’m sorry.”
“What? Why? Did you tell them I can give them publicity? I have one million followers!”
“Monaco is different from Miami,” you explain gently, “But you’ll still be at the VIP, you have a great view.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she’s beyond annoyed now, as it happens every time things don’t go her way. You can’t blame her, but you also think it will be good for her to spend some time with her parents, whom she refuses to visit although they live in Malibu and pay her mortgage. “We’re still up for dinner though, right?”
“Yep! I’ll meet you at your hotel.”
“Okay see you then, babes.”
By the time your eyes return to the screen, Charles is in P1, Carlos in P3 and the Ferrari Suite is exploding in cheers.
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YOU’RE up painfully early the next day. Vic and you went back to your respective hotel way past three am and you’re exhausted, but at least you had enough self-control to avoid today’s hangover.
Nevertheless, the morning goes by in a blur between breakfast with Elix people, calls with Mildred and Walter, your manager, and two casting agents that tell you that no, you don’t need to go for an in-person casting, you’re not getting the role.
By the time you get to the Suite you have a headache and the knot on your throat is progressively getting harder to swallow. You only make things worse by rage-reading tweets with your #IsOver hashtag.
People claim, with more force every day, that Aidan gave you everything and you are starting to regret ever meeting him.
You have worked your ass off for years, taking on small roles, commercials, stock-photo deals. Learning scripts and going to castings and taking classes, you have been criticized and rejected for more things than just “not fitting the role”.
You have given everything you are and everything you have, and people assure what you got in return you owe it all to some man.
“Hola y/n!” Carlos is the first one to get back to the Suite and you wish he would rub off some of his good mood on you. “How are you today?”
“Hi Carlos, I’m alright and you?”
“You definitely look it,” he says, semi-sarcastically. “Something on your mind?”
The knot is back in your throat so you shake your head no. “And yours?”
“Nada de nada.” he smiles. You’re still growing on each other, but this is the most comfortable you’ve been while sharing the same space.
Charles arrives while Carlos, Mati (who is hungover from her party at the yachts) and you are comparing workout playlists. Wearing what now seems to be like his comfort cap, and a pair of ugly ripped jeans, he smiles brightly at the three of you.
You’re happy to see both Ferrari boys so smiley after the past couple races. Miami especially. And you hope they’ll do well; but you’re particularly scared for Charles, and whatever it is that made him unlucky in his hometown, you don’t want this day to end on a sour note.
You spend about an hour talking to them about anything, your movies, their races, Mati's tour with Romeo and Juliet. Music, hobbies and quirks, Charles and Carlos have an opinion on everything and they are actually quite fun to be around. Then, a Ferrari Team member comes to get them for the Drivers Parade so you wave them goodbye, wishing them a smooth race.
"You're not going to wish me luck, y/n?" Charles asks, the smirk on his face is one you identify as mischievous, and it makes a small wave of anxiety run down your back.
Mati stops the bottle of water halfway through her mouth to ogle at the two of you, and the palpable tension that has installed itself in the space.
"Good luck, Charles," the smile you return falters in one corner, but Charles doesn't seem to mind as he adjusts his cap and says thank you before leaving behind Carlos.
Mati has forgotten about her need to hydrate and is staring at you with both eyebrows raised. "I thought you were not doing that?" she gestures with her head towards the door through which both drivers vanished.
"I'm not doing anything," you reply, defensively. "He's being—"
"y/n, you could cut the tension there for a minute," Mati finally takes a swig of water and you wait for her to continue talking. "Like I said, I don't recommend it but... you're free to do whatever you want." she isn't unkind while wording that last part, but it still stings you with annoyance.
"Thanks, Mati." you bite the inside of your cheek, leaning back into the sofa.
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The Ferrari Suite explodes in cheers once the checkered flag is out. After a frankly insane race with rain, crashes and too-long pit stops, both Ferraris have crossed the finish line, and most importantly Charles has finally managed to get rid of his Monaco curse. His enlarged picture appears on every screen with P1 right in the middle. Carlos is P4, but the points are extremely important in the long run, so people celebrate nevertheless.
Before you know it, Mati and you are being dragged down to the track for the podium celebrations. You're buzzing with excitement, holding Matilde's hand as you run to one side, where the mechanics can't crush you as they jump up and down.
Even above the general screams of happiness, you can hear talks of 'Charles deserves this so much', 'It was about time' and 'His hard work is finally paying off at home'.
At least someone's blood, sweat and tears are valued.
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YOU are probably not living down the Charles dating allegations this weekend. Which is not your fault, honestly, had they enlarged the picture, it would have shown Mati just as excited for Ferrari as you were. She's Italian, and she bleeds for Ferrari.
But right now, surprisingly, you're not overwhelmed with whatever it is they're saying on Twitter. Although it took Mati snatching your phone away and tossing it in her own purse before sitting you down to retouch your makeup for the celebration party.
Victoria is joining you too, because a 'the more the merrier' applies to any sort of party happening in a Monaco club, especially if it is for the unofficial prince.
It is the first time in three months you let go of your worries, even if it is for the shortest amount of time as you dance with Victoria and Mati and drink anything you please and whoop every time the DJ mentions Charles and Carlos.
You're happy to be with your friends, away from Elix and celebrating two people who can become something more than coworkers to you. Although through the night you see them on a few occasions, Carlos waves at you as he passes by a few times only stopping in the third time to let you congratulate him with a quick hug that's more of a shoulder squeeze than anything.
Charles is obviously harder to approach, and to be fair, it's not like you're even trying. He's surrounded by his hometown friends and by anyone who wants to have his attention for a minute, for a picture or a dance or to buy him a drink.
It's past three am when Victoria is beyond buzzed and you're starting to feel exhausted so you decide it's time to leave. Mati has found someone to take home so she's been gone for around forty minutes, minding her business.
"Come on, let's go," you are grabbing Victoria by the wrist as her ankle twists. "We've both had enough," you laugh, Victoria joins your laughter as you snake through the crowd of people pumping fists in the air, some of them point and wave at you and you smile back at them politely.
You hear your name being passed around a few times, but you focus on finding the exit while keeping Victoria by your side, who has started to whine about not wanting to leave.
Once you break into the outside, you take a breath of fresh air, the coolness makes your skin rise in goosebumps and you shiver, letting go of Victoria to lift the hair on the back of your neck.
"It's too early!" Victoria complains once again, her eyes are glassy and she's just as sweaty.
"It's not, plus you're drunk, we should leave," your ears still feel drowned in the sound of music. “My feet are killing me.”
The exit opens again, and a couple stumbles out laughing and they tell Vic and you goodbye in drunken French. Before the door shuts again, Charles is out on the street too.
"I heard you were leaving," he says in what you're sure it's a too loud voice. But your ears have barely stopped ringing, so you can't blame him. "Are you two okay?" he eyes Victoria, who is starting to lean down on her knees to soothe her dizziness.
"Oh we're alright, we've just partied enough," you smile at him. Charles is rosy, bright-eyed and sweaty. Is it corny to describe someone as painfully handsome?
"I didn't get to congratulate you," you add, trying to keep your attention on Charles while being aware that Victoria might start retching at any given moment. "You did amazing."
Victoria straightens immediately, her glassy stare focusing on Charles. "You're such a good driver, Charles, for real."
"Thank you," Charles nods awkwardly a few times as Victoria pokes him with her left index finger. "And thank you y/n."
"Come on, Vic," you chuckle, keeping her hand away from Charles. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you."
Charles smiles again, running a hand through his hair. "Thank you, really. I'm sorry I didn't see you earlier," he points behind him, to the club.
"It's your party, you can't be everywhere,"
Vic is yawning loudly, and you roll your eyes, amused. "We better get going."
"y/n, when are you flying to Spain?" Charles blurts out, the moment you turn to lead Vic down the street.
"I'm not sure, Wednesday probably?"
"You know, I can still show you a place or two in Monaco. If you want." He sinks his left hand in the front pocket of his dark jeans, and you wonder where the mischievous aura from what seems like ages ago went.
You pause, letting Vic put her whole weight on your shoulder as she finally gives up to the exhaustion. "Um well..."
The same tension that appeared at the Ferrari Suite is back, and the more you hesitate, the thicker it becomes.
Victoria pulls you down with her as she throws her head back, yawning again. Charles is just in time to hold you back up, his other arm pulling Vic back to a standing position.
"Only if you want," he says, he is far too close now and you can smell the mix of alcohol and cologne on him.
And maybe it's the alcohol in your own system, and you'll regret this once you sober up and realize that you told Matilde several times this is exactly what you were not going to do, but you say yes.
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─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I want to say thank you to everyone who interacts with this series, it means a lot to me to know that you're enjoying it!♡❞
✰ paddock club members: @majx00
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1K notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook
𝕽𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | Teaser
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Hang the sinner by his wings.
Tags/Warnings: Demon!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Modern fantasy AU, Angst, slow burn, mature themes, hurt and comfort, Tags vary for each chapter
Length: ~4k words per chapter
There is no taglist for this fic.
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He can't even get you to drink anything at all, but he has to if he wants even the slightest chance at getting that rogue demon out of you.
He tips the cup of water against your lips to aid in getting you to drink anything and replenish what your body so desperately needs during this time- but he knows, deep down, that you can't keep this fight up much longer than you already have. Your soul might be strong, but your body is already hitting its limits- muscles trembling from the force of the most recent attempt made to possess you.
"There you go.." he hums to you in gentle reassurance, unable to contain his affection for you even if you're incapable of returning any of it. He can't help the way his hand runs over your back to try and comfort you, even though he knows it means nothing to you.
You feel nothing for him but indifference. You don't even hate him.
Knowing what he does now, he's aware of the fact that this entire situation is partially, if not entirely, his own fault. When he saved you centuries ago, he also made you very much horribly attractive for houseless demons like the one currently attempting to use you as more than just a host, but even if he knew back then what he knows now, he would've still gone through with it.
He'd save you any chance he'd get. And maybe that's the sickest part of his whole curse.
The knife on the table is another way out for you, of course. A dead vessel is worth nothing to a demon of this kind, and maybe, it would let you rest for once as well- but he knows that even if held against the prospect of eternal punishment, Jungkook wouldn't ever be able to be the one to take your life. After all, he did what he did many lifetimes ago to save it, and not have it taken either way.
He didn't just buy you time.
He bought you the guarantee of a full life, with every reincarnation.
Jungkook helps you back into bed after letting you calm down for a little bit, before he opens the door to let your friend back inside. At the sight of him, you immediately begin to reach out and cry, and the sight alone has his heart in a chokehold.
Or whatever is left of it, in this case.
Your tears are salty in the open scars he has inside of him, but the fact that you can even shed them at all makes the sting feel a little less harsh. He can deal with this, as long as he knows you're getting the life you were almost denied. He can see you smile, and cry, and love-
Even if it's in the arms of someone else.
"She's a lost cause." Yoongi mumbles from a corner, watching Jungkook who closes the door behind him.
"She's not." Jungkook denies.
"You barely made any progress." The fellow demon shakes his head at him. "You're torturing her."
"I'm saving her." The younger demon denies. "Any progress is progress."
"And how long can you stand this, I wonder." The cat eyed man asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall behind him. "Let me-"
"No." Jungkook instantly denies. "You'll kill her."
"And maybe that's for the best, my friend." He offers in sympathy. "Why are you chasing after someone who cannot even love you?"
"Because if I don't,.." jungkook mumbles, turning to look at your closed door.
"...then everything I sacrificed has been for nothing."
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spidernuggets · 6 months
Text
Jason Todd x Reader
"I let you down"
When the Joker sent the tapes to Batman, you were forbidden to see them, and your heart shattered seeing him buried 6 feet under.
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You and Jason have known each other for a good while. You were already under Batman's wing, known as Red Hawk. When you met Jason when Bruce adopted him, you two instantly clicked and were best friends ever since. And soon enough, a sense of love blossomed between the two of you.
After that, you pulled out of the crime fighting gig, knowing you weren't at your best when your love was taken from you.
A few years later, you still haven't moved on. Everything reminded you of Jason Todd.
Soon, word went around that a new anti-hero was running around gotham killing criminals. He was later identified as Red Hood.
It was then heard that Red Hood was out for Batman. You knew you couldn't go back to being a hero, but you called Dick and he assured you that they have the situation handled.
A month later, you get a call from Alfred, telling you to come to the manor quickly. You tried to decline, but Alfred said it was important, and you knew that if Alfred says it's important, then it's serious.
When you arrived, Alfred told you to meet Brice and Dick at Jason's grave. Your eyes widen, and your eyebrows furrow. Why would they need you at Jason's grave?
You rushed over, and from the distance, you can see the silhouette of Bruce and Dick standing over the freshly dug ground, staring into the hole that Jason was buried in.
You looked at them in confusion but then glanced down at jason's tomb. The casket was open.
And it was empty.
Your breath sped up, and it became uneven. You felt like you were to pass out.
"Where is he?" You whispered, not to anyone in particular. Then you turned to Bruce and Dick who still stared at the empty casket.
"BRUCE, WHERE IS HE??" You screamed, making for throat itch.
You were back at the manor in Jason's old room. It still smelled like him. You were on his bed, clutching his pillow.
"Where are you, Jason?" You cried to yourself.
You went back to your home, instructed by Bruce, with Dick staying in contact with you, updating you on their search for Jason's body.
Your phone rang.
You quickly picked it up, seeing Dick's name on the ID caller.
"He's alive," was all you processed when Dick called you. The only other thing you processed was "And he is Red Hood."
You hung up, pacing around your apartment, chewing on your lip.
Jason's Red Hood? Your Jason? And he's out for Batman?
You thought you needed a while to process. But you kept yourself locked in your room for two months. Only coming out to use the toilet and when Dick forced you out of bed to eat.
What you didn't know that soon enough, Red Hood hadn't made up with his adopted father, but they're now on a bumpy road towards reconciliation.
Jason told Dick not to tell you that they've somewhat made up. He wanted to talk to you himself. In person.
You went into your room after treating yourself to a glass of water.
You lost all senses when you saw Red Hood standing in your bedroom, staring at polaroid pictures of you two on the wall.
When he heard you come in, he turned, looked at the ground, and slowly took off his helmet.
"Hi, doll," he said. He mentally slapped himself for it, thinking he could've said something more sensitive.
You didn't say anything. You couldn't say anything. What the hell were you supposed to say?
Jason took a breath.
"I'm sorry," he said lowly.
You didn't show it, but you were confused. Why was he apologising? What was he sorry for?
"I- I wanted to come back to you. I really did. But I did things. Horrible - unforgivable things that I can't take back. I know you stand by Bruce's morals. But- But after I came from the dead and heard Joker was still alive, I- I was so angry. I was angry at him, I was angry at Bruce. I was angry at Batman. I m'm not excusing my actions. But I knew if you found out, you'd- you'd hate me. Never look at me again and only see a monster every time you think of me. I'll get better! I pro- I promise, doll. I'm not asking you to forgive me I just-"
He couldn't finish what he was saying once you burst into a sob. You dug your palms into your eyes to stop yourself from crying, but to no avail.
Seeing you cry broke his heart, and he knew he hurt you so bad. He didn't know what to do. He took a steo forward, wanting to hold you.
Did you even want to hold him? Did you even want to hold such a monster? So he stopped himself from hugging you.
He took another deep breath.
"My sweet Y/N, I- I'm so sorr-" He was interrupted once more when you threw yourself at him, arms circling around his waist.
Jason was shocked. You were hugging him? Hugging an ugly monster who became something you'd hate?.
"I missed you so much- I- I thought I'd lost you forever," you cried into his chest.
Jason slowly wrapped his arms around you, gently placing his lips at the crown of your head.
"I missed you too, sweetheart"
"I'm sorry," you whimpered.
Jason's face scrunched up and pushed you off him, bending down to make eye contact with you.
"Why the hell would you be sorry?"
You furiously wiped away any tears left from your eyes.
"I-" You choked on another sob.
"You what, sweetheart?" He asked, pushing strands of hair away from your face.
"I- I let you down," you sniffled.
Jason's eyes widened and his grip on your shoulders tightened.
"No- no, no. Why would you think you let me down? I- I'm the one who let you down! I went on a killing spree, I wanted to kill Batman!"
"I couldn't save you! If- Maybe if I had gone with Bruce to find you I could've-"
It was Jason's turn to interrupt you as he pulled you back into a tight embrace.
"You didn't let me down, doll. You could never let me down. I was going to die either way," his whispers muffled as he leaned his lips against your head as you cried.
It was true. Whether you went with Batman or not to look for Jason, the Joker still would've had him killed. Or had the both of you killed.
But he's here now. And he's making an effort to get better. That's all that matters to you.
"I love you so much," you say, your voice muffled against his chest plated armour.
"I love you too, darling," he replied.
You both stood in each other's embrace for a good while before you broke the comforting silence.
"You copied me," you said quietly.
Jason's eyebrows furrowed.
"What?"
You lifted your head, looking at him.
"I'm supposed to be Red, you stole my name," you smiled, eyes remaining bloodshot from tears.
Jason couldn't p but break into a smile at your comment as he placed a lingering kiss on your forhead.
"Red reminded me of you," he said.
You copied his smile as you both leaned into a starved, loving kiss, happy to be reunited.
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