#look at me tagging people who never knew i existed

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 2]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n I tried to tag everyone I saw, but some of y'all weren't linking. Also, there is a part three because part two became so long. Whoops!

[Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3]

-> <-

“You're eventually going to have to talk to them,” Robin shimmies her backpack into the empty chair next to her rather than being strewn across the lunchroom table. “As far as they know, you changed your hair and your clothes and now you hate them.”

You place your lunch tray onto the open space, then sit across from her.

Distancing from your friends was cruel, and you knew that. Robin is also right. Still, you wake an hour early to get to school ahead of them. Taking windy pathways past the gymnasium that stunk of socks to avoid Eddie on his way to his classroom that is two doors away from yours. You carry all of your heaviest books now because Gareth’s locker is across from yours. You do regret leaving that sandwich in your locker though. Gross.

With a routine schedule, two months have flown by without a hitch in the plan. Robin likes sitting with you at lunch, but she does wish you chose to sit here rather than watching you screw away at a tight bond with the boys over at the other table.

Things were desperate by the first week when you shoved toilet paper up your nose in order to fib to Eddie that you were too sick to go anywhere. You missed two days of class just so you could keep away from him.

Then, there was the band performances. You never missed a single night that Corroded Coffin played music at the scrappy biker bar at the outskirts of town. The boys had stopped inviting you after “missing two,” but you snuck into the shadows in the back of the bar. No one really bothered you there. Stage lights distracted the performers enough to where they could only see the front row of drunks.

All of the practice in Gareth’s garage paid off. Corroded Coffin was good - no, excellent. You were so proud of the boys.

You wish you could tell them.

And, so, maybe Robin is right. All of this running around is silly and reckless. You miss all of your friends dearly. Even Eddie, who still you find absolutely and undoubtedly the most complicated soul you ever met in your entire life. Your friendship is more to you than desperately clinging to his ankle like a shaken chihuahua in heat.

Maybe there is a part of you that still wishes he’d see. All the effort you put into your hair, your skin and your nails isn’t just about proving that you aren’t just one of the guys. You knew this from the very beginning. Still, even after your conversation with Gareth that one night, you still play out this plot a little longer.

You like the shiny bling and the tighter clothes that get you a bit more attention. But, you didn’t have to change yourself completely - right?

“Isn’t it time for me to mingle with people who have similar interests as me?” You say finally out of your head. Snagging one of Robin’s fries, you drop down in the seat across from her.

“You've proven you can be a chick with or without that frizzy haired freak. Don't act like you don't like the same stuff they do,” she flicks your jacket, which has hours of patchwork done. You had sewn on patches of your favorite bands. Most of the bands, you had learned from Eddie, himself.

Hours of listening to music together in his trailer, while sharing a blunt. Eddie would get a wind of energy and then he’d leap onto his bed for a solo performance. Fingers stroking a guitar that never existed. You laugh as he tumbles over his mattress, and he tells you that’s when the crowd will carry him - to victory!

You warm at the memory.

Eddie is the only person at his lunch table. Kicking his foot up onto an empty chair, he lounges and he waits for his friends. He’s always the first to get there because his class is so close to the cafeteria. It takes Gareth and Jeff a longer time because they come from the gym. And, the freshman come from the opposite side of the school, so they take the longest to get to the cafeteria.

“Go on,” Robin nudges you. “I’ll see you in math later.”

By the time Robin kicks you thrice in the shin, you get over your worries. You want to patch your friendships up with the boys, but you’re not sure what to tell them. Explaining the truth felt horrific. That you like - er - liked Eddie. Gareth’s confession in the kitchen.

Yeah, the truth seems far fetched.

Your second option is to beg for them to quit calling you ‘one of the guys,’ but that too came off risky. You've never had a problem with their comments before, or their disgusting antics and habits. Once you smell a Jeff fart, then all of the other farts seem forgiving. Seriously, no one should ever give him cheese again. Yet, they do.

Anyway, talking to Eddie first feels less daunting then to come up to all of them at once. But, with your stalling, your wish comes to late. The boys rush the table, hollering and whooping like unkept animals.

You stop in your tracks fully when you see two women beeline for the table. They never invite people to their table. Or at least, they never invite just anyone.

Roxie is easy to recognize. Candy coated red lips meet that of Eddie’s pale cheek that blushes a deep crimson at the affection. Eddie hangs his head, so he can smack a wet kiss to her lips. She uses a free hand to swipe the spare lipstick from his mouth.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cooed.

Roxie touches his hair in a way that makes his eyes droop low, and he rests his head on her chest. All while he keeps his conversation with Jeff going.

Meanwhile, the other woman is her opposite.

Brunette hair cascades down her back, and tangles amongst her woven sweatshirt. Arms wide open with her slender fingers covered by the net sweater she hid under. She sneaks up on Gareth, and hangs over his neck. Gareth cranes his neck, and whispers in her ear making her laugh sweetly. He touches her wrist with gentle fingers and he pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with his free hand, before they have a chance to slip further down her face.

“Indie!” Dustin shouts.

The girl hanging from Gareth picks her head up, and grins with a shining sparkle in her eye at the young freshman. She reaches over to ruffle his hair.

You panic.

Slamming into someone’s shoulder, you apologize and you retreat like a mouse being stepped on. Time slows down. You move around people as fast as your feet will carry you.

You can hear your breath in your ears meeting up with your heart banging against your ribcage.

Robin calls to you, but you can’t hear her. Blood rushes through you, and you swear your can feel the swimming and the tingling. Your fingertips tingle when you push open the door into the hallway.

Technically speaking, you couldn’t be out here if you're on our lunch period. A few classes still go on, but mostly the teachers didn’t want anyone to catch them smoking in their classrooms where they shouldn’t be. It’s not like the smell lingers.

Somewhere down the hallway, a classroom is having a heated debate. Voices bounce from wall to wall. Echoing into your eardrums. All. Too. Much. You aim for the big showy doors at the front of the building.

Cool damp air hits your cheeks. Trees stand tall. Birds hold meetings on their branches. They sing soft melodies. Outside smells earthy.

Immersing yourself in the sourness of the damp remains of rainfall, you slow your jagged breathing. Your heart beat regulates.

Keys trembling in your fist, you find your car parked not too far away in the parking lot. Some asshole has blocked your passenger side in, so even if you wanted too you wouldn't be able to get in that way.

Kicking yourself for taking the cowards way out, you catch a tearful glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Mascara slips down your cheeks. Your drowning in two inches of water.

Eddie's bandana sits in your glove compartment. It still remains his with the lingering tang of old cigarettes and sweat. You told him if he left that nasty thing in here that you'd wash the stink out.

You haven't.

Clinging to a tissue, you use that to pat your face dry. Dabbing at your eyes, you don't want to disturb your makeup. Funny how a few months ago, you would be scrubbing your cheeks raw to get anything off of your face.

The tapping on your window startles you because you think a teacher has seen you. However, you find only Robin with a pitiful expression on her face. She waves for you to roll down your window, then holds out your backpack and your jacket that you’ve left behind in your scurry to get out of school.

“You left your things,” she looks at your puffy eyes and your worn out makeup. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you reach out for your things, only to put them in the passenger seat next to you, “I think I’ll go home.”

“Indie is a really nice girl-,”

“I’m not worried about Indie.”

Robin winces at the sharpness of your tone slicing through the air like butter. You apologize to her.

“I’m going to go home, Robin.”

“Roxie and Eddie are only going to last for a day - I guarantee,” her shoulders bobble. “It’s Roxie.”

“Yeah,” you say thinly.

Robin taps your car. “Get home safe.”

“Will do,” you say. “Thank you.”

-> <-

When you arrived at school the next day, you're in class for less than fifteen minutes before your name blasts on the intercom to report to the main office. Robin salutes you from her seat in the back of home room like you’re taking a final walk, before they take you around the back and shoot you between the eyes. Well done, soldier.

Although not as dramatic, you were served a detention slip for after school. You suspected as such, since you left halfway through school without an explanation. Next time you'll go to the nurse, and heat up the thermometer with your tongue. Give her a cough, or a sneeze and she would send you home.

You tap your fresh manicure across the etchings in the desk. Profanities. Markings of once was, and forever will be.

Low rumbles cause for distraction. You pick a desk next to a window where you see the gray clouds clustering in close. They spit at the ground. Droplets of water slip across the glass. You guess which droplet will get to the bottom first, and silently cheer the winner.

Your eye drifts to the front of the class where your chest rises and falls at the next person to walk through the door. All those months of hiding your head felt worthless when Eddie shows up.

For a moment, you think, he’s looking right at you. You swallow, but you try waving. Eddie does ignore you and plops himself into a chair at the front of the classroom. His backpack drops with a thunk.

Tipping your attention back to the window, the rain comes down harder in flashes of wet thunder and lightening. Dark and stormy weather is your favorite. Because, after the rain stops, you like splashing in every puddle until you can’t see the color of your boots anymore.

You can’t do that in your new sneakers. Not a speck of dust on them. Barely out of the box.

“Everyone in their seats,” a man in a blazer walking with an arch to his spine tells us. He hovers at the front of the classroom with both hands on his desk, while peering just above his square framed lenses. Wild gray hairs stick out on end near his ears. You wonder if he’s done this on purpose to accentuate that despite he’s bald on top of his head, he still in fact has hair. “I’m Mr. Clark, and this will be an hour long detention session.”

You came prepared with notebooks and homework to do for the next hour.

“I’ll be taking attendance, and then you may quietly do your homework or read . . . for all I care, bang your head against the desk just be quiet,” he aims the metaphorical bullet at Eddie and misses, and hits the wall just over the top of his head.

Eddie clicks his teeth. “You got it teach.”

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark groans. “Will I ever get tired of seeing your face?”

Eddie grins famously. “Oh, you know you’ll never get tired of me, Dick.”

“It’s Richard,” he clears his throat, then straightens his tie, “Mr. Clark to you.”

You miss the banter. The smart mouth Eddie that has you drooling. Oh, God, please resist getting sucked in again.

The notebook in front of you has pages of blank white paper. You focus on filling in the lines with your math equations.

“Solve for E,” you tell yourself in a hushed whisper. “What ever happened to X?”

So, you solve for E.

You raise your hand when your name is called for the attendance. Pretending that Eddie didn’t whip around at your name, instead you solve for E. You solve for E because E is the equivalent of- E is the equivalent of-

Eddie can’t help, but watch your eyebrows get closer and closer to your nose. You get frazzled easily when you know you’re close to an answer that’s on the tip of your tongue.

You’re breaking now. Keeping your head down, as Eddie burns holes into the top of your head. E isn’t an equivalent of anything. E is the most complex and confusing letter of the alphabet. You swore up and down that you would avoid E. E’s in front of you. There’s no way to escape E for an entire hour. Even when you think you've solved E, you still have to see E living in a trailer across from you. E’s lights still on. Eating. Watching TV. Changing. Sleeping. Dreaming.

Crap, you are not thinking about the fifth letter in the alphabet. And, you are certainly not thinking about math.

You throw down your pencil in frustration.

Eddie waits for Mr. Clark to finish his attendance taking. In mere moments, the old geezer passes out despite his fifth coffee of the day. He rocks back in his chair, arms at his side with a trail of drool spilling out down his chin.

That’s when Eddie moves.

“Hey,” you have your head down on your desk by now, but Eddie doesn’t care.

He doesn’t understand why you’re avoiding the group. Obviously, he misses when you would sit at the table and you correct his homework from the night before. You’re too smart for him. Eddie knows this. You’re more than a brain to him, though. The way you speak with your hands more and more when you get excited.

Eddie likes to pretend not to understand why he gets nervous when you lean over his shoulders to show him how to work out a problem in one of his classes. He pretends to not notice the scent of your soap that smells so sweet and delicious. That the smell lingers when you leave.

What he can't shake, however, is why you haven’t been speaking to him for the last two months. Darting into empty classrooms when you think he’s not looking. When your home, you'll keep the lights off or low enough that he might forget you’re home (he doesn’t). And, you think you’re clever sneaking into the back of his performances with the band, but Eddie sees you there dancing by yourself with a grin on your face that could break apart the gray days and bring back the sunshine. You haven’t missed a single performance yet.

So, where have you been?

You bring your head up from the table because you know Eddie is smarter than to think you’ve fallen asleep. Sometimes you talk, or you twitch your arms - Eddie’s seen this when you knock out after a long day. He'll let you sleep there, but he'll take off your shoes so that you're comfortable. And, he'll even place a blanket over you because you'll start to shiver. But, he never stays. He doesn't want you to wake up because Eddie is notoriously clumsy. Instead, Eddie would sneak into the living room twiddling his thumbs making no noise until you wake up. He wouldn't turn on the television. He wouldn't warm anything up in the microwave. He wouldn't even open his fridge. He would sit on the floor of his living room kicking his feet together, and plucking at the carpet fibers.

You never sleep long - thirty minutes at most.

Eddie thinks about how much time you spend together in his trailer at this moment. You’ve shared everything. Clothes. Towels. Blankets. Toothpaste. Food. Secrets. You've made a mark on him when he wasn’t looking. If there is a way to tattoo someone into their brain, into their heart, you're there.

That terrifies him.

“Hi,” your voice melts him.

Eddie stumbles over his words. “Erm-,”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I just-,”

“How are you doing?” Eddie wants you to keep talking. He’ll ask about anything to keep you here with him. Tempting you like a rabbit, and him holding onto a carrot, he waits for you to bite.

“Good,” you reply. “You?”

“Yeah, good.”

You can’t hold back. “You’re with Roxie, now?”

“Hm?” He hums. “It’s casual.”

“Casual,” you repeat. “Like I said- erm- I’m sorry that I haven’t been around. My classes-,”

“Don’t lie to me,” Eddie’s eyes swell, and you fall deeper into the trap. “What’s happening to you?”

Okay, truth time.

“I liked a boy, and he didn’t like me back,” you stretch out your top. “I even tried changing my look, but that seems pretty pointless now. But, I guess I just got tired of being compared to a boy.”

Eddie could faint. You're infatuated with someone so much that you changed your entire wardrobe. Guilt rubs at him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie's denying what he already knows about himself. That if he kept comparing you to one of his guy friends that certain emotions couldn't grasp hold of the surface for air.

“Who's comparing you to a boy?”

He had to be sure.

“Seriously?” you frown. “Everyone. You. Gareth-,”

Confirmed.

“Is this about Gareth?” Eddie clenches his fist around the back of his chair. “I swear to God, I’ll pummel that little sack of shit.”

“Eddie,” you scold. “It’s not Gareth- never mind.”

“Wait, who’s the guy?”

You hum. “What?”

“You said you liked some guy?” Eddie pieces together. “It has to be one of us, right? I mean you stopped talking to all of us specifically, so which one of us is it?”

“That’s not important,” you suck in a breath. “Eddie, I’m doing homework.”

He snorts, the flips the page so he can read the question, “you’re doing it wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t I usually the one who’s correcting you?”

“Gareth’s girlfriend has been helping me since you- never mind,” Eddie sees the tension in your jaw. “Okay, so to solve for E, you plug in this number here and then you take the square root there.”

You’re irritated, but Eddie is right and you mark your paper up how the equation should be.

“Thank you.”

“So, it’s Gareth,” Eddie presses on.

“What?”

“The boy you like that doesn’t like you back?”

“No,” you write another math equation out on your piece of paper. “Actually, Gareth liked me, and I didn’t feel the same.”

Eddie knows this, but he just needs to hear you say you don't like his friend.

“The plot thickens,” he gets comfortable. “Is it Jeff? Come on, Jeff is a catch.”

“Eddie, please drop it,” you beg.

Eddie throws a few more names out that you can ignore over your homework. But, slowly he begins to run out of ideas. You know where he’s going, and you’re not sure how to react when he says,

“It’s not me is it?”

Your pencil stops scribbling, and if you’re careful you can pretend to be thinking really hard about - what two plus two equals. Oh, damn.

“It is me.”

Those three little words trip you up more than Eddie’s jaw being on the floor right now. You stammer for a little too long. Tripping over the right words to say to him.

This is it.

The moment you’ll lose him for good.

You want him to just tear your heart from your chest and squeeze it until it pops. Make the pain of an aching heart go by so much faster.

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark rose like a zombie from the afterlife. “Is there a reason that your seat is empty?”

Eddie whirled around. Still stunned, he replies,

“Uh. . . right, sorry.”

Without making too much noise, Eddie puts himself back into his original seat towards the front of the classroom. Fidgeting with his pencil, someone might mistake that he’s doing homework for the first time.

Eddie lives across the trailer park from you. How could he not see this coming? All the nights he's spent rescuing you from the clutches of your mom, who, despite being a wonderful host, has this unnecessary plea that you embrace your ‘femininity.’ That’s what you call it, he thinks.

Oh, and now to let you down.

Eddie’s seeing someone great. Roxie. She’s - she’s - she’s not as much of a slut as people say. And, he likes - no he loves that thing she does with her tongue.

Okay, he’s getting distracted.

You’re one of his closest and longest friendships he’s had. And now, you, have to go and change that.

Eddie’s mad. Angrier than angry. How dare you bring this to him.

Two months you kept away. You ran around the school like a chicken with your head cut off trying to avoid all of your loyal friends. And, you brought Robin into this mess?

Robin, at the very least, is a sweet and a neutral party. Okay? She doesn’t involve herself with anyone’s drama. She just sticks to the side of the drama like she's riding in a sidecar, and she takes notes. She lingers.

Eddie rubs his eye.

Maybe if you and he went on one tiny - the tiniest - date. As in, he doesn’t pay for food, kind of dates then you’ll get whatever you want out. You can go back to being friends, and Eddie can still see Roxie. Because, he likes Roxie.

He doesn’t like you like that.

Eddie wants nothing more than to forget the conversation you two just had. Yet, you’re lodged in his brain like a damn tumor. Yeah, a tumor. Growing at an alarming rate, he wants to smush your pretty little face. Not in a violent way - no, he’s not like that. He just wants to get out the tension, and - and hold you for a night? Does that make sense?

No, Eddie it does not.

Eddie wishes you didn’t smell so good today . . . and all the other days. If you smelled like an ogre, he could stop thinking about taking you on that ‘barely-call-it-a-date’ date. Although, if you were an ogre and you did smell as good as you do right now - ugh, that doesn't matter!

None of this matters. Why is he thinking like this?

In theory, he’ll take you somewhere romantic. To release you of your crush faster, he’ll spend the money - okay? He decides to break the bank for you.

Only once.

There’s a little spot outside of town that has the most delicious steak dinners. They have a dimly lit dining room, so Eddie wouldn’t have to see the dress you spent hours deciding on wearing. Your bare skin softened by the scented lotion you bought just for the night. He can hear your laugh like a song he knows by memory. You tilt your head back, exposing the flesh of your neck.

After your dinner, that he pays for - not you, he’ll walk you down the street where he parked his van earlier. He’ll have cleaned out and scrubbed the seats until every stain kicks the bucket. Driving you home, he’ll feel that knot in his chest that he knows from watching cheesy romantic comedy movies as practice for when that crap happens to him (he doesn't do that . . . shut up.). That knot tighten a little more by the time he gets to the trailer park. And, by the time he gets out of the car his fingertips start to shake.

Eddie will open your door, if he can get there before you. Taking your hand in his, he’ll feel the warmth of your skin against his. How right the moment feels. How nervous your breath is against his. How close you are to him. He’ll be the one to learn in first - you're too nervous to make that leap.

Lips as sweet as milk and honey. He would kiss you for a long time, always coming back for more. Eddie won't find himself getting enough of you. You’re touching his hair, and he melts.

Eddie will never want the night to end.

“Munson!”

Eddie doesn’t recall falling asleep. Yet, his eyes snap open. Mr. Clark’s slobbering from the side of his mouth. He’s so close that Eddie makes out the patches in his face where he’s forgotten to shave.

The classroom is emptying. He only catches a glimpse of you leaving.

“Go home, boy,” Mr. Clark begs. “You and I both know you don’t want to be here for any longer.”

No, Eddie does not.

In fact, Eddie would much rather be wrapped in your arms in either his bed or your bed.

Eddie shoves his notebook and his pencil back into his backpack knowing full well he heard something crunch unhappily in there. Racing out of the classroom, he sprints after you in the hallway.

But, you’ve already gone.

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson preference #angst

[anundyingfidelity]

FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader

Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.

Word count: 3.9k.

Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.

Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

It's harder to stay...

Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.

The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.

Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.

"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.

Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"

The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.

"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.

"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.

"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.

During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.

"So it's personal..."

"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.

"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."

"I won't."

2029, Sacred Timeline

When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.

But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.

You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.

At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.

Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.

He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.

So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.

Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.

The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.

"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.

You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.

"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.

All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."

"Loki, I saw you die..."

Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.

"I know you did, my love."

You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.

And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.

"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.

You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"

Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.

"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."

"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."

"What?" you mumbled.

Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?

"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.

Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"

He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."

You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.

"Your death was supposed to be then?"

"Yes, it was."

"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.

Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.

Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.

"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"

"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.

You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."

Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"

"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."

"Or you could do both."

"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."

"It's not your fault."

"I know, Loki."

"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."

You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."

Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.

You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.

"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."

He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."

"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."

"No,I can't-"

"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."

Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.

"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."

And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."

Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.

When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.

"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.

Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."

His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.

You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."

"Thank you, love."

Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.

"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.

"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.

So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.

Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.

"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.

"I love you too."

Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.

The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.

So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.

He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.

Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.

At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.

"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."

"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.

"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.

"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.

"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."

And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.

You were right. Mobius was a good friend.

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #tva loki x reader #tva loki x female reader #tva!loki x reader #loki imagines #loki angst #loki laufesyon x reader #loki series fanfiction #loki season 2 #mcu loki x reader #mcu loki #loki series

[russellsppttemplates]

Did you lose her? (Lando Norris)

Maybe it was never a change of heart

Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty with a happy ending, and it's also the first piece that's I've written that's based of a song, Stick Season by Noah Kahan. I hope I did it well enough! 🫶 also, it has smut, and if you have followed me for long enough, you know I don't usually do it, but I think it's these AUS pics 😮‍💨😌🥵

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: curse words, previous break-up and themes related to that, smut (mentions protected sex, hormonal contraception, praise kink if you squint at the whole thing)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed

Doing the food shop was one one of the mundane adult life tasks you actually enjoyed doing. You had some music on your ears and walked along the supermarket, making sure you weren't buying too much outside of your list.

Tomato sauce and two packets of the instant noodles for when you didn't feel like cooking or were in a rush, you told yourself as you browsed through the aisle.

The scent should've been the first give away, but lots of people wore the same perfume. However, not all of them had the characteristic underlying scent that to this day meant comfort.

"Y/N! I wasn't expecting to see you", Cisca said as he placed the item she took from the shelf on her shopping cart, "goodness, how long has it been since we've seen you?", she smiled sadly.

Five months, you thought. One hundred and fifty two days since you and Lando parted ways and you shipped your belongings back to England. You told yourselves it was amicable and that you'd still be there for eachother, but you had published your first article and he had started his season without the other by your side.

"It's been some time, yes. How are you?", you wondered, "we've been good, you know how busy it gets around this time of year. But Savannah had their little girl, Athena - let me show you a picture!", she scrambled her phone out of her bag.

"Oh, how cute!", you cooed at the little baby bundled up in a pink blanket, "Mila is such a good big sister, too!", she showed you a picture with the two of them in Lando's lap, the baby tucked safely into his chest as Mila seemed to be showing him one of her toys.

Gulping and swallowing the tears that threatened to fall, you looked up at her and smiled, "I'm glad everyone is doing good - send Oliver and Sav my congratulations!", you nodded, hoping she would get the hint.

Storing her phone back in her bag, Cisca smiled, resembling the smile that you woke up many times to, "I will, darling. All the best for you, hopefully we'll see you around", she said before rubbing your back soothingly.

You found an aisle without people and allowed yourself to cry. Just for a little bit before you had to go back to pretend it didn't hurt still.

And I'll dream each night of some version of you

That I might not have, but I did not lose

"I'm on the podium, dad!", Lando yelled as he hugged Adam, cackling in excitement as he hugged the team who were there to celebrate and congratulate him.

"Congratulations, baby!", you yelled as Lando turned to hug you, arms going around your waist and pulling you as close as the safety barriers allowed, clicking open his visor so you could look at your favourite eyes in the world.

"I love you so much, Y/N!", he yelled back, winking before he went up to get weighed in.

On the podium, he looked at you like you two were the only people there, smiling up at him as he blew you a kiss.

"I knew you'd be on the podium, baby", you smiled once you were back in his driver's room, "How are you so sure?", he wondered, kissing your neck soflty.

"The development they're doing, your talent, Lando, I knew it was going to happen, and from now on, you better get used to being up there every single weekend", you smirked, kissing from his throat to his jaw and up to his lips, humming when his tongue poked at your lips begging for entrance.

It was hot and he was sweaty. His phone read 4:30am as he stood up against the headboard, finding the light switch so he wouldn't walk around the hotel room in complete darkness.

It was the third night in a row you showed up in his dreams. The first time, it was subtle as he dreamed about flying on plane and he was sure you were there. The past two, however, had you in there as a main character. He dreamed of walking in the paddock with you, of having you there to comfort him and knock some sense in his head when his P4 in qualifying didn't feel enough, and now you were celebrating his podium.

It's weird how his brain went there, how his arms and face felt like they had truly been holding you despite not having done it in months. Muscle memory betrayed, he thought as he poured himself some water and took little sips of it as he looked outside the window.

Fuck, he missed you. And not just for these big moments where he was on a high and wanted to share it with you or when he was do low you were the only person that could make him crawl out of the dark hole he snuck himself into. It's when he's making his bed back home and the other pillow remains fluffed because no one's using it, it's the mug you left behind and he doesn't have the courage to send back to you or give to someone else or when he sees something that reminds him of you and he gets it, hoping one day he can get them to you.

You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back

Lando sighed again as the call went to voicemail. It was the third time it happened in the last couple of hours. It was media day at Suzuka and they were having lunch.

"You know it's 3 am back in England, right?", Oscar asked bluntly, "when we were having breakfast, sure, you might have got hold of her if she was doing a late night, but I think you should wait", he reasoned.

Oscar was right. He didn't want to risk it waking you up even though he was sure your phone was on silent since you loved your sleep dearly.

"I hate this", Lando muttered, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Oscar was aware of some of what had happened between Lando and you. The start of the season always came with new gossip and this one's was filled with rumours and conspiracy theories about the paddock's sweetheart and young couple.

Lando started driving in Formula One when he was nineteen, so they had seen his grow up through the years along with your relationship. At first, you were pinned down as his sister, then a best friend when they realised you didn't share genetics, and then you were his girlfriend. The lingering touches and big smiles they caught never rushed you to admit your feelings or put a label on your relationship, but everyone was there when you walked hand in hand on the paddock and confirmed the suspicions they had for months. Lando Norris and his best friend were in love and they all felt like proud parents as they watched you support him unconditionally every time you could.

"Did you lose her?", Oscar quesioned his team-mate as he picked on the food on his plate.

"I don't have her with me, have I?", Lando snapped and regretted it almost immediately.

Oscar put it down to tiredness, jet lag and the fact that he seemed a bit lost on how he was navigating the situation, "What I'm saying is, did you lose her? Did you do your absolute best to keep her with you?", he said sternly, "Used all of the options and possibilities and it still didn't work out? You don't lose someone because things fell apart in a stressful situation", he reasoned.

He was young but not dumb, truly.

"Feels like I have though", Lando added.

"What I'm saying is if you really want to know how she is and if you want to have an honest conversation with her, you have to make an effort. Not just calling and asking your mother to see if she's spotted her lately, or your sisters to check in your circle of friends whether or not she has moved on", Oscar lectured.

"Do you think I can do it? Do I have what it takes?", Lando confessed his doubts out loud. One of the reasons he had yet to act on it was because having a second chance wasn't for everyone and he needed to make sure it went perfect. You deserved that.

"You're a Formula One driver with deep pockets and a massive heart that still belongs to someone. What can't you do?", the young australian driver mused before he got up, taking his plate with him and leaving Lando pondering about what to do next.

I hope this pain's just passin' through

You sang loudly as you dusted the living room shelves, windows open to let the autumn air in. While cleaning wasn't your favourite thing to do, you had woken up with an urge to clean and given that it happened very rarely, you were taking it in stride.

So far, you found a receipt of a pair of jeans you were meant to return but gave your friends instead, a concert ticket and a bigger amount of dust than you'd like to admit. When you pulled the fabric strap, though, you knew that you wouldn't want to get rid of it. The lanyard belonged to one of the passes for one of the Grand Prix weekend you went to see Lando. Inspecting it closer, you realised it was his second home race, the Polaroid picture attached to it confirming the date.

It started with you joking about the fact that the pass was not the prettiest, so Lando hunted down the paddock to find a Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of you two and pinching a hole on it so you could carry it around and cover the supposed ugly pass. The photo was still intact, just a little dusty as you wiped it with your sleeve. Lando was kissing your cheek as you smiled impossibly big, eyes squinty and smile beaming because of the guy whose lips were on your cheek.

A single teardrop fell on the plastic covered paper before a few more followed as you sat down, looking at what you had once been and how things were right now. The missed calls on your phone led you to believe that maybe he still felt something too, but the potential heartache of trying again and it not working would hurt more than it already does.

The vibration from watch caught your attention as you read the two notifications. One from your e-mail with Qatar Airways written in bold and a text from Lando.

Qatar Airways

Thank you for choosing to fly with Qatar Airways!

Lando ✨️

I need you here with me, Y/N, please

I made the flight reservation for you, they will hold the ticket until two hours before the flight leaves, you just have to confirm with your passport ❤️

You promised me that I was more than all the miles combined

Heathrow Airport, 7th October 2023, 6:30 am.

You couldn't back out now, that would mean Lando would lose the money he spent to get you here in the first place. It wasn't by all means quiet, but your thoughts were loud enough.

You shouldn't be here. Why were you here? Why did you accept this, Y/N?

Because Lando needed you there.

Simple as that.

Boarding the flight, you smiled and thanked as the flight attendant pointed to the area where your seat was and where you would spend the next six hours and a half.

"I'm sorry, our seats are by the window", a woman in her thirties said as she bounced a little girl on her hip, making you get up so she could get to it, "thank you", she smiled, sitting down and buclking herself and her daughter to her body.

"Lyla, you can't go pulling on other people's clothes - I'm so sorry", she apoligised as the little girl pulled on your shirt's detailed button buckle.

"No worries, I know how restless they can get. You do the best for your baby. You're only responsible for yours and her emotions, no one else's on this plane", you offered her, remembering the times you would take flights and fully grown adults would go up to a stressed parent to let them know they could hear their crying child as if the parents themselves didn't know.

"My husband is somewhere in there, too", she chuckled, sometimes I feel I'm responsible for his too - accountantable in a way at least", she chuckled.

"You weren't able to sit together?", you wondered.

"My husband planned the weekend to go watch a race and come back, but we found some holiday days and we decided on a spontaneous trip. This was the only seat left they had", she explained.

"I can change seats if you want", you offered, "I'm flying on my own and I'll get to the destination all the same", you giggled.

"You wouldn't mind?", she asked, relief settling over her as she tried to see her husband, waving at him to come closer as you touched the button to call the flight attendant as the passengers were all sat down on your section.

"This lovely young woman says she doesn't mind switching seats with you", she said to her husband as you spoke to the flight attendant.

"No, there's no problem with that if you both agree", the flight attendant smiled as you got up, ignoring the frown on the man next to you who had to get up so you could swap, "bye bye, Lyla!", you waved at the little girl before her parents thanked you once again.

Finding your new seat, you put your bag under the seat in front and sat down, excusing yourself to the older couple next to you, "I just swapped seats with the gentleman that was here, I'm sorry", you smiled, hoping they wouldn't be too mad.

"Oh, he was able to sit with his family after all - I told you, Harold!", the lady winked at her husband, "I'm Francesca, you can call me Fran", she said sweetly.

Despite the early flight, they both seemed to be full of energy as they started telling you stories of their life and family, showing pictures of their kids and grandkids.

"One day you'll have all of that with the person you love, darling - if that's something you want, of course!", Harold peeped in, "our granddaughters are always telling me not everyone wants the same things!", he chuckled softly.

"It's okay - I would like that, actually", you smiled sadly as Francesca landed her hand on top of yours.

"Why does that sound like a confused heart, dear?", she commented, reading you like a book. The flight was closer to be three quarters of the way to the destination, so you still had some time to kill.

"A little bit; I'm actually flying over to see the person who still has this confused heart", you mumbled.

"Your eyes sparkle when you talk about him, dear - something tells me he's going to 'unconfuse' your heart", she smiled, "tell me about him".

"Godness", you chuckled, "He's kind, respectful, honest, goofy, cute, charming, loving, he's all that is good. We just lost our way, I think", you recalled, smiling at the thought of him.

"You'll find it back, dear. Life has mysterious ways but it has the right ways - I like to believe it does, anyway", the older lady assured, squeezing your hand in hers.

Waving goodbye to Harold and Francesca when you found the taxi bay, you requested to be taken to the paddock.

When you got there, you payed the kind driver before he helped you take your suitcase from the boot, "enjoy the race!", he smiled.

You were thankful all eyes were on the track already, making you cross the whole paddock and step into McLaren's hospitality quickly after collecting your pass.

"Y/N!", Zak said as he was the first person to spot you, "you're here, you came!", he smiled, hugging you tightly, "we're all very happy you're here", he said as he asked one of the team members to store your suitcases somewhere appropriate before leading you to the corridor to the drivers' rooms.

"Lando is inside, and the race starts in less than ninety minutes, so you won't talk all you need to, but it's a good start", he said, knocking on the door before he left.

When Lando heard the knock, he hoped it was you. Sophie and Oscar were great people, but in the last hour, everytime he opened the door, theirs were the faces he saw instead of yours.

"Y/N", he welcomed you into his room before closing the door, "I hope it's okay that I flew you here, thank you for coming", he said as he hesitated on giving you a hug.

Taking a step forward, you laced your arms around his waist as he did the same around your shoulders, inhaling eachother's scent and feeling like a weight was lifted off both of you, "I missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered before you pulled apart.

"It's not the first time you've done that for me", you fumbled with your hands, "although I was very surprised. We haven't spoken to eachother in some time, Lando", you sterned.

"Not because I didn't try", he bit bat with an ironic chuckle, "Why did you come here then?", he defended, taking your words as immediate offense and not taking a second to process them properly.

"Because even though we're not together anymore, you matter to me. I care about you! I'm not sure what monster you depict me as or that you imagine I've turned into, but I wouldn't dream of wishing you misery! If you call me and tell me you need me here, I'll be here because I care about you!", you snapped, "you have no idea how many times I wanted to give up and cancel this! Why am I here, Lando?", you asked.

You didn't expect him to react that way, not that you had a much better reaction anyway.

"Fuck, this is not how we do this", you took a deep breath as Lando held your hands in his, mimicking your movements as he did the same. Three long deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that", Lando began, hands laced on yours still, "thank you for bring here, I needed you here because there's no one else in the world that can make me feel comfortable like you do, and I need that. I need to feel like myself - and I know it's a selfish ask to make you get up and drop your things to be here with me but-", you interrupted him.

"It's okay, Lando, you're okay", you cooed, searching for his eyes and hoping you'd get the message your mouth was failing to say through.

You pulled him to sit in front of you in the massage table, "I've been seeing all the podiums you've been getting - the team have done such a great job developing, and your talent and skills have brought it to the podium", you tried a lighter subject even though you were 99% sure of his worries.

"Oscar still qualified above me", he began, "He's a rookie and he's managed to do in months what I haven't done in five years", he allowed himself to express his feelings. After all, it was you.

"Oscar is not driving a tractor like you were", you shrugged your shoulders as Lando laughed.

"For someone who was invited last minute and got a pretty good pass, I'm not sure how the team would feel about you talking like that", he smirked, hand finding your own as he rubbed his thumb on your palm.

"I'm only telling the truth", you smiled, "and I mean it. I know how this sport works, but you shouldn't compare yourself to your teammate when the circumstances are so different", you mused.

"The team have been great and they still haven't said anything", he reasoned.

"Of course they haven't because it's something that happens, Lando. I was watching the highlights and so many drivers went over the limits because that's how this track goes", you stated, "there's only so much you can do and you shouldn't put all that pressure on yourself", you tsked, "I know you do, but you shouldn't", you smiled.

"You always know what to say, don't you?", he chuckled, "I have an inkling on how this here works", you winked and tapped his head with your free hand.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment as Jon opened it right after, "Lando, we need to start prepping for the sprint", he said before he turned to you, "Hi Y/N, good to have you back!", he smiled before he let you finish what you were doing.

"I should go, then", Lando trailed off, "are you going to browse around the paddock? I bet a lot of people miss you and your face here", he nudged.

"I came here for you, I don't care about anyone else", you smiled as you leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek for a few seconds, smiling against his warm skin before grabbing your bag and walking out.

Most of the team must've known you were coming since not many of them took a second look whenever you greeted them or entered a different area.

One of the media girls got you a set of headphones as she stood next to you, Oscar and Lando getting ready to go to the track.

His routine hadn't changed as your eyes followed him while he got dressed appropriately and safely for the race.

Before Lando put his helmet on he looked back at you, winking and smiling when you winked back.

When the gap wasn't closing in, you knew Lando would be disappointed with P3, not because of the place itself but because his team-mate had done better.

As you moved to a better spot to watch the interviews on the media pen, your heart felt like someone was using it like a trampoline, jumping and stomping on it as Lando spoke about himself with such a negative tone.

Surely, the interviewers were fishing for answers with biased questions and his mind took him there.

As you waited for him to be back to the hospitality, you got yourself something to eat, realising you hadn't done it since the plane.

Lando was beating himself up and he couldn't shake the bad mood he was in even when he thought you had travelled to see him and be there for him.

As Sophie gave him a quick debrief about his interviews, he stepped into his driver's room so he could have a quick shower and then head to the team debrief.

"It wouldn't hurt going up to her, you know?", Jon told him, ready to take any harsh words first if it meant you didn't hear them.

"I know it wouldn't, I'm just going to eat something and then I'll join the debrief with the rest of the team", Lando mumbled as he walked up to you.

"Hey", he said sitting down on the sofa next to you.

"Hey, Lando", you said, testing the waters and approaching his body until you rested your head on his shoulder.

"You are going to get your win, Lando. It's going to be an amazing weekend and it's going to be your first. Surely important, but you'll be a race winner and go on to the next race", you said as he seemed to be unsure of the tone you were going for, "as that will be a big moment in a long career - because it won't define it - this doesn't define you either, as a person and as a driver", you concluded, hoping to bring a little bit of his confidence and self-esteem back up a little.

"And you're going to be there?", he asked. He was feeling like shit and needed to know. It wasn't fair, but he needed to know.

"I can't make promises like that, not before we speak properly", you remarked, looking up at him from where you were, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours, "do you want me to stay here or should I go back to the hotel?", you asked. It wasn't the right time or the right place to talk about it.

"Could you stay here, please?", he said as you took your book out of your bag, knowing it would run long and you'd need some entertainment as there was only so much catching up you could do with the team when they're suppose to be working.

"I will, then", you said as Lando took the plunge and kissed the top of your head.

Ten chapters and a tea later, Lando tapped your shoulders, "I'm finished, are we ready to go?", he asked as you got up accepting his hand to hold as you walked out of the hospitality, grabbing your suitcase from the storage room and bidding goodbye to the team.

"I couldn't get a separate room for you, but the room I'm staying in has this living room area and the sofa opens into a bed, they said it's really comfy and they also left an extra mattress topper and some blankets", Lando said as he drove, "in case you didn't feel comfortable, I- I just want you to feel comfortable", he emphasised nervously.

"Lando, you don't need to walk on eggshells, okay? It's me", you smiled reassuringly as he stole a quick look at you before focusing back on the road, "sounds like a nice solution, fine by me", you reassured him.

Leaving the car to the valet and taking the lift up with you, you stayed silent until you were inside the hotel room, "That's the bedroom area, bathroom's here - and it has a double sink - and then the living room", Lando patted the extra linen folded on the sofa.

"Thank you", you assented, "would you like to talk now or is it bad timing? You must be tired f,-".

"Yes, please", he agreed immediately sitting on the sofa and making room for you to sit in front of him.

"I don't know where to begin", you observed after a while, "it's been tough being without you - I have been so used to having you there for me and to be there for you that nothing quite has the same meaning. I can live without you - barely, but I can -, that's not the question, but I don't want to", you manifested.

"We ended things because we had to, and it did us both well to see from another perspective - that's what it felt for me anyway -, but I want to be with you and to have you with me", he elaborated, "I don't care if you have to spend more time back home because of the distance, or come with me to the races because of the distance, too, I-".

"It was never about the distance, Lando", you interjected. You both used that excuse way too many times but deep down you knew it wasn't because of it.

"We'll work it out then", Lando suggested, "we'll work on us because knowing eachother doesn't mean we don't have to put ourselves first and keep investing on our relationship. I value you so much Y/N, I love you so much and I want to do this right", he whispered as if he spoke any louder would disturb the moment.

"I love you too", you smiled as you laced your hands together, "we'll work on it, together".

It was already late so Lando offered you the bathroom so you could shower and do your night routine first and then make the sofa bed to your liking while he did his night routine.

"Good night, angel", Lando said after you hugged him goodnight, kissing the top of your head before letting you lie down first since the light on his bedside table was the only one illuminating the room.

After you cocooned yourself in the sheets comfortably, you spoke up, "Lando, I'm sorry I didn't answer back sooner", you apoligised.

"It's okay, love, you don't have to worry about that", he cooed softly and you could hear the smile on his voice.

"I know it's not, but thank you for making me feel better about it, goodnight", you smiled, feeling hopeful about it.

The next morning, you were woken up by the noise coming from the bathroom, assuming Lando was showering inside as you stretched, surprised at how well you slept. Maybe the bedding was genuinely nice, the sofa bed wasn't bad to begin with, especially considering the hotel you were staying in, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in months, you fell asleep knowing the person who your heart belonged to was more than happy to let you keep his, too, and he was in the same space as you.

"Good morning, beautiful", Lando smiled as he noticed you were awake already, "did you sleep well?".

"Good morning, Lan", you yawned, "I did, really well, actually. At what time do we have to be at the track?", you wondered. It was a night race, so the call up was later than usual.

"I'm leaving after breakfast, but you can stay and head there later if you want", Lando declared as you walked up to him, "I just need to freshen up and get ready", you smiled, kissing his cheek and heading for the bathroom with your clothes.

As soon as you arrived at the track, you took one of the back entrances as you knew Lando would spend some time with the fans and other drivers he bumped into, finding a nice spot on the lounge and going back to your book.

"I'm going to start race prep", Lando stopped by you in the lounge after a quick meeting, "I probably won't talk to you much until afterwards so I just came to check on you", he reasoned.

Getting up, you moved to one of the corridors, leaning up to kiss his forehead softly, "Good luck, my love, you're going to do so well, I know it", you smiled against his skin.

"I have my lucky charm with me", he smirked, kissing the top of your head before he got back to Jon.

From P10 to P3, Lando had an eventful race. Fortunately, and compared to the rest of the grid, he seemed to be doing fairly well as he stood in front of AC Units while replenishing the water he lost during the fifty-seven laps.

"I'm so proud of you!", you cooed as he got back to the garage, shaking hands with all the mechanics and engineers before he got to you. You hugged his sweaty body, not caring about it as long as you felt his close to you.

"They're postponing race debrief so I'm going to shower quickly and then we can get going, beautiful", he smiled, kissing a spot on your cheek very close to your lips.

Smiling giddily, you went to the bar area to get a bottle of water for yourself as Sophie walked last you, "seems like we will be seeing a lot more of you again soon - maybe Zak can also hire you as our lucky charm!", she winked as you shook your head, blood rushing to your cheeks at her words.

Back in the hotel room, it was your turn to freshen up and get ready to sleep. The spirits were high and you were feeling like the wait time was over. Your heart was healed enough as you sat on Lando's bed, "I'm so proud of you, you had an incredible drive tonight", you smiled as you moved closer to him as he sat on the edge, back against the headboard and one leg on the mattress while the other hung beside the mattress.

"It felt so good", he smiled, "thank you for supporting me", he cupped your cheek as he silently asked you for permission to kiss your lips. Lando couldn't waste anymore time as he pulled you to him so he could kiss you properly, your legs on either side of his as you straddled him, revelling in the feeling of being in eachother's hold as your hands played with his hair while his held your waist.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, I'm exhausted, baby", he rubbed your thighs, "it's okay, my love, I wasn't thinking of letting you do anything else anyway", you smiled, kissing his nose softly before you got on one knee so you could flop to the side and land on the mattress.

"Sleep here, yes?", he mused and you nodded, undoing the bed and getting under the sheets, his arm holding you to him and making sure he didn't let go.

As if you'd leave anyway.

4.30am and Lando woke up again. This time however, the sight he longed to see was right there. The you he had and had got back, cuddled up to his chest as your leg was hoisted up on top of his own and very close to his aching cock.

As he tried to change the angle so every time you moved, your smooth skin wouldn't pratically tease him, you stirred in your sleep, eyes opening as he tried to adjust your knee.

"Is everything alright, baby? Am I hurting you?", you said as you recoiled from his body.

"No, angel, no!", he quickly guaranteed, "I'm sorry I woke you up, it's just that your knee was very close to me and I was having a hard time dealing with it".

"A hard time indeed", you snickered as you felt his hard-on strained on his Calvin Kleins. Dating after being friends for so long brought an easy joking side to your relationship so much easier and funnier as you wouldn't get offended with most of what you said to eachother, "need help with that?", you smirked.

"But I wanted to treat you", Lando pouted, "Can I, gorgeous girl?", he whispered as he kissed up your neck once you whispered "yes", hands roaming on your body as he pulled up your nightshirt, finding your nipples and twisting them slightly to work your body up the way you did with his.

Your sighs and whimpers let him know he was doing a good job as undressed your torso, littering small kissed from your throat to your tummy, "you're so gorgeous, Y/N, I can't believe you're mine", he said as he blew a raspberry on your tummy, earning giggles from you before he licked up a stripe near your panties line.

"You know how much I like it when you wear your pink panties", he voiced as he touched you over the cotton fabric, feeling you pulsate already, "Do you like it when I tease you over your pink panties, baby?".

"Yes", you scrambled out betwen moans and deep breaths, "Oh my Goodness, princess", he cooed as you squirmed, "You want me to fill this pussy up?", he wondered as you let out a yes followed but a deep mewling sound.

"Let me take a little peek, then", as his fingers pushed the fabric down, a string of wetness caught in the material as he smiled, "Oh my Goodness, look at this pretty little pink pussy", he kisses your clit, "all of you, you're se beautiful, baby".

Rubbing the inside of your thighs with his thumbs, pressing the soft skin as he got rid of your underwear, "Are you going to let me fill you up?", he asked as he wouldn't do it without consent.

"Yes, please do it, Lan", you moaned, hand looking for his own to hold.

"You don't need to say please, my love - here", he whispered as he laced your hands together, "you'll always have me, you hear me? I'm yours, sweet girl", he smiled.

His hand that wasn't securely laced in yours helped you take his underwear off before he came back up to kiss your lips softly.

"Does it feel good when I tease your clit like that, gorgeous?", he smirked as he ran the tip of his cock in your sensitive bud, "Yes - uhg, baby", you gasped, looking into his eyes and swearing you could get lost in them had you not been in such a state of arousal as you were.

"You look so pretty like this, my beautiful, sweet girl", he praised as he saw your twitches and heard your moans at his words, "we need protection, though", he stated.

"I'm good, didn't see anyone else - you?", you wondered as he shook his head, "didn't see anyone else either - condom?", he asked, making you nod and separate so he could get it from his toiletries bag. Hormonal contraception left you feeling worse that it made your life easier, so you and Lando always used condoms.

Rolling it down his shaft, Lando climbed back in the bed and kissed your lips, adjusting himself before he entered you.

You whimpered as Lando slid inside you, a low groan escaping from his throat as he gently slid, taking your hand back in his and resting them next to your head on the pillow.

"You feel so good for me, sweet girl, so wet so warm, so good - aah", he breathed out, "so tight, my sweet sweet girl", he squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of your walls squeezing him.

You stretched your arm out enough to pull his face closer to yours, kissing his jaw and then his lips before whispering "you can move, love".

Lando pulled back slowly, thrusting in gently to begin with and savouring how you felt around him.

"I love you", you muttered into his neck between moans as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you faster, harder and deeper.

"I'm close", Lando groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, his hand crawling between your bodies and drawing lazy circles on your clit to get you to your release.

"Me too, feels so good, I feel so good", you moaned out, a high pitch one particularly when you felt the band was about to snap.

“My sweet girl, my beautiful sweet girl, are you going to come for me?”, Lando worked you up as your body started to show signs of it, "let go, my love, I'm here, I've got you”, he soothed, still gently rubbing your clit with one hand and keeping hold of the other.

Your back arched, sensitive nipples rubbing against his skin, as you came with a high-pitched whine, nuzzling your face on his thick neck as you came undone around him. Lando came soon after, his hand that was not holding yours groping your waist as he groaned.

“Good, sweet girl, that was good, you did so well for me. I’ve got you, it's okay", he assured as he felt you flutter around him, probably from overstimulation considering neither of you had been with anyone else and you hadn't slept a full night yet, the tiredness he felt also a cause for how quickly he finished.

Lando kissed your forehead sweetly before he pulled out, getting up and throwing out the condom on the bathroom bin before he cane back to you on the bed.

"Let's put this on, yeah?", he whispered soflty as he helped you put on his linen shirt, buttoning it enough to let you breathe but still feel hugged by the fabric, and then a clean pair of underwear he got from your suitcase.

Before he laid in bed with you again, he put on his own underwear, pulling you to his arms and then pulling the crisp white covers over you.

"Do you feel good, baby?", he asked once you were cuddled up to him, "yes, I do", you smiled, a mixture of post sex glow and being back in his arms.

"Thank you for not giving up on us, I love you, sweet girl", Lando said as he played with your fingers, bringing them up to his mouth so he could kiss every single one of them, "you're the best thing in my life", he mumbled, letting you drift off to sleep.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

[secretsandwriting]

heyyyy ryyyyy <333

since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?

obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this

hope you have a great day bb

Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.

Earned Position

5.3k words

You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 

Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 

When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 

It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.

You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.

While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 

Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 

Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 

The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 

Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 

“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 

The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.

Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 

When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 

Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 

6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 

“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.

“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.

“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 

“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 

A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.

Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 

It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 

Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 

So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.

“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”

“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 

“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 

“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 

“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”

“Maybe..”

“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”

So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 

Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 

Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.

Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 

One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 

When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.

When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 

When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 

So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.

“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.

Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 

When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 

You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.

While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 

“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”

Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 

The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 

Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 

So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 

When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 

Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.

When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.

Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 

“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”

That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 

Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.

She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 

What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 

When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 

Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”

And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 

Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.

So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 

War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.

“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 

“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.

Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.

Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.

Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.

Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 

Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.

Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.

Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 

He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.

Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.

He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.

Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 

He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 

Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 

He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 

Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 

“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”

Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.

#dc #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #fem reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #Damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #batfamily x reader #batmom reader #batmom #request #cipheress-to-k-pop

[malum-forev]

jealousy, jealousy

Summary: You're usually someone who preaches love but there's something about a new recruit that makes your blood boil.

Jealousy isn’t part of your vocabulary, it never has. So when you started dating Bucky you assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. Of course you noticed the widened eyes and hushed words people- men and women alike, Buck’s got game left and right- whenever the two of you would walk into restaurants. When you started pointing it out to him, he would always say: “It’s not cause they like my looks sweets, they’re afraid of me.”

Maybe at first that was the case but definitely not now, the public’s perception of Bucky turned positive. From terrifying Winter Soldier close all your doors to I’ll set my house on fire just to get a look at Daddy Sarge.

And there wasn’t anyone who loved teasing him about it more than you. Some nights, whenever he’s been especially annoying you would search his tag on twitter and read what people post about him. His cheeks would burst red and he would bring the comforter up to his face.

“Could you please stop with that!” He groaned but a smile tugged at his lips. “You know it gives me a weird feeling!”

“I would love to see the Eiffel Tower, they say Paris is beautiful this time of year. @BuckyBarnes @SamWilson.” You giggled as you brought your phone closer to your boyfriend.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Do I even want to know what that means?”

“It’s-well- kind of when you-“ You pursed your lips and made a triangle shape with your hands. Maybe a visual aid would help?

Bucky grabbed both of your hands and brought them to his lips. “Can you please put me out of my misery?”

But today was very different, it had been for a few weeks now. There was something about the new brunette agent that rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was that she was currently rubbing Bucky’s bicep. 

Jealousy does not exist in my world. My happiness comes from within me. There is no jealousy in true love. 

You repeated this over and over in your head, raising the speed on the treadmill and focusing on the windows in front of you. You were not going to focus on the fact that there was a hot pink nail polish wearing agent openly flirting with your boyfriend. Definitely not focusing on that. 

Your heartbeat started to rush as you kept on running, seeing red. No mantra was enough, you wanted problems. You were going to go up to her and pin her down on the floor until she was patting on the mat, taking her last brea-

“You okay?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on your lower back to stabilize your body as she lowered the speed on the treadmill. “It looks like you’re trying to challenge the speed of light over here.”

You took a deep breath to calm your anger and looked at the redhead with a smile. “I’m trying to get rid of all my- you can call it extra energy.”

Natasha threw her head back with a laugh. “Bucky training the new recruits?”

“This hasn’t happened before, I’m usually very chill about everything. But there’s something about this one.” You said, forcing your eyes onto Natasha’s instead of behind you. Where they were now about to start sparring. 

Natasha’s eyes traveled from yours to behind you. “If that’s the problem then I strongly suggest you don’t look now.”

You turned your head just enough to see the young recruit asking for your boyfriends hand to stand up, putting her other hand on his shoulder as she came up. You heard her giggle as she draped her arm over his shoulder and started complimenting his new shorter haircut. But the thing that threw you over the edge was how she placed her palm against the back of his neck. 

“Excuse me.” You said to Natasha, ripping open the pocket on the left side of her tactical suit and taking out one of the small knives you knew she hid. “I just need to borrow this for a second.”

Before Natasha could even get a word out you planted both of your feet on the gym floor and sent the knife flying in between Bucky and the new agent’s face and landed on the wall behind them. Bucky leaned back a little as he felt the air rushing when the knife passed him, turning to face you with a stupid smug smile. The recruit on the other hand, fell to the floor and clutched her chest. 

Nat tried and failed to swallow her laugh.

You brushed past Bucky and the agent, who was still on the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You should really work on your aim. Someone could have gotten hurt.” She shot you an annoyed look as you un-stabbed the wall. 

You turned on your heel and debated your answer. 

Actions speak louder than words. You thought. 

Without breaking eye contact with the woman, you sent the knife flying right to the spot next to her head. With no effort the blade stuck to the foam flooring. 

“I have perfect aim.” You smiled walking past Bucky who was biting the inside of his cheek to suppress his smile.

“Are we still on for dinner Sweets?” Bucky asked, the sides of his lips curving upwards. 

“7:30, don’t be late.” You said without turning to him. 

---------

Part 2: jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Wanna read more like this? Here’s my latest post. 💖

Author's Note: Kinda short but I hope you guys liked it! As always my requests are always open!! Be sure to comment, like and reblog if you like!!💖💖🦾

#bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes os #college au #college au!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #sebastian stan x you #marvel fanfic

[shanieveh]

“ forget me not... ”

synopsis: neuvillette, too late to confess his love to you, is drowning from the suffering and regret that came along with it, especially after knowing that you felt the same all along.

tags: gn!reader x neuvillette, depression and low self-esteem, bittersweet ending, mentions of freminet, lynette and melusines, heavily implied reader death and neuvillette also kinda wanting to die

a/n: people want this and i have came to deliver (hopefully) enjoy~ this is my first long fic that i published

How can this be….?

Neuvillette sat in the corner of his office, all your letters in his right hand. How can you say you loved him… how dare you describe the love, the passion, everything you felt for him when he can't even say it back.

How can you love someone so unlovable?

His silent cries can't match up to the violent outbursts of the skies outside. Days went by when he first found out, the melusines were scared to death about who would report it to him. The way you dissolved into water, not even seeing you for the last time—not having the privilege to have a proper funeral.

He failed you… the monsieur wasn't too sure on many things but this one was certain.

Reading your diaries, knowing your thoughts and hopes for the future. It was an invasion of privacy but also in a way… the last remnants of your existence. One such entry was that of three years ago where you first met.

Encountering this, a profuse blush colored his face. The adjectives being used "handsome", "tall" and "kind" for your first meetingwith the chief justice. Far from the truth really, although Neuvillette knew you meant every word.

You always did.

You always were an honest person.

The very first day his lavender eyes met yours, to the very last. There was never a trace of impurity or a hint of a liar. Of course, the verdict went in your favor, because to him a precious rose like you can never steal and the plaintiffs were wrong.

Reading it now, not even a slightly negative comment was made to those who wrongly accused you.

"Maybe they had their reasons, after all, I was also in need of money at that time." you wrote. Adding on that you defended the "Monsieur Neuvillette" when people called "such a man of honor and kindness" a "merciless and arrogant man".

A man of honor and kindness? Your words became running thoughts in the hydro dragon's head. That day was one of the only days he didn't cry after a trial. Neuvillette was just happy that such a person of integrity was cleared of their name.

He turned through the pages of the diary, how you taught him to socialize and even mend his relationship with the hydro archon.

"Monsieur Neuvillette was too adorable! Being with a person of lowly status and treating me with such respect and humility, he truly is the epitome of mercy and loveliness."

How can you be so blind? Anyone with eyes will know that it's a privilege to be with someone so beautiful, especially to be with someone like Neuvillette. A cold and repulsive soul. You make him sound like a good person, when in fact he isn't both good and human.

He was a monster… these words of humanity you always used to describe a monster. Why do they sound so genuine? Why do they look so real? Maybe only you can make him like that, you and only you.

A few pages later he finally saw the words…

Words that should've made him scream in euphoria… tore him to a million pieces. Because even before this he already loved you… because you had so much time to confess but never did… and never will.

"I think I'm in love with the chief Justice."

And after that, he couldn't even get himself to read, he couldn't. His eyes got so blurry to see, his heart became too heavy to feel. Why were you… why you? In a world filled with monsters, they chose an angel. They chose a soul that still wanted to live, love and give. Those demons… despicable.

Remembering his shortcomings, maybe in some way he could've avoided all of this. Neuvillette shouldn't have given you his blessing to investigate the serial disappearance case.

But that glint of adventure in your eyes… he was too soft to reject you.

It was all his fault.

Wiping his tears he looked at the last entry of the diary… Oh.

Oh.

"After this investigation, I'll finally confess to him… I surely hope Neuvillette feels the same way, I even planted some forget-me-nots to give him in the backyard so that he'll know when it rains and he weeps. I will always be here."

The chief justice didn't know what was coming to him but he started running… and only then can he see the state of Fontaine. Many flowers have wilted and only a few people were outside. What had he become..?

"What's up with this weather? It isn't even the rainy season yet?!" A shop owner complained.

"I know! My crops have been drowning these days, at this rate if it doesn't stop we'll have a famine!"

It was all his fault, his running turned to a slow walk taking in all that he had done. This was all because of him. The lonely streets, the lowered morale. This was all because—

"Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, please don't cry!"

He turned to the voice and saw a young boy in the distance. Neuvillette remembered now, his name was Freminet. That child on which you doted extremely, giving him sweets and hushing his tears. The chief justice quickly let go of his gaze and continued to walk.

"You see Freminet, it didn't work... let's go inside."

The response was that of a stoic young woman, but he just continued his legs even if they wanted to rest all to see the last thing you cared for… those flowers. And when he finally was at the destination he saw it immediately outside.

It was in the bushes, he couldn't miss it. Every corner of your house was haunted, every tiny thing was a memory. The chairs you painted, the drawings pinned in the cabinet of you and him with the melusines. It was precious. All of it. Just as you are.

He finally saw them, most were almost to bloom and some were wilted. Picking one he unconsciously kissed it, perhaps mistaking it for you. These flowers were made to remind him he was never alone, but now he is.

More alone than he can ever be in one lifetime. Your scent still filled every corner, a remembrance of the biggest "what if" in his life. Your will stated that every single thing of yours is his just as you were always his. Bittersweet was he when reading it.

Neuvillete forgot that too included your house, maybe he was too consumed with your thoughts to visit this place. He was twisting the poor flower that looked so tiny compared to his hand. Perhaps that's what it's like to be with him. It's a curse…

He continues to caress the flowers, to treat them as if they were you. You were wrong on one thing about this, even if there were no flowers he will never forget you. Never, no way! The love he has for you can destroy nations and can cause millions of sacrifices. Just to keep you, to see your smile again.

But he can't even do that, you didn't give him the privilege to do something for you. If only he knew, he would've… done everything for you. The love that can create the strongest of floods failed to protect the one person he was supposed to protect.

At that moment, he felt the waters, the ocean, his home… you. It made his crying bearable, somewhat. Grief that could surpass a lifetime, wasn't enough. Nothing he can do will ever be enough to have you again. Perhaps he should also leave this world to stop being a burden to the people… and maybe to see you again.

"Neuvillette…"

Now he was even imagining your voice, or was he? Maybe he was delusional but he still followed your voice even if it took him to an unknown path. But the end was in a small pond, where you used to keep the fish, all of which were alive and well.

"Neuvillette…?"

At this he didn't even care if was going insane, your voice sounded like a melody even if it uttered his name. It sounded like a rare jewel, a myth, a prophecy too good to be true.

"Darling?" He replied in a hopeful tone. He looked through his surroundings, no longer was he in a pond but a terrain of boundless water. In the middle was a flying Oceanid, a spirit. Was it—could it be?

"Even I could feel the heavy pouring of rain, monsieur… don't be sad."

It was indeed your spirit, a part of you that remained before that bastard—he'll make whoever did this pay. It wasn't for justice anymore, this one is for revenge.

"How can I not? When I have failed you over and over again, I couldn't even get to say…"

"That you love me?"

His eyes widened, looking at you. Even if it didn't look like you, he knew… he always did. A nod soon followed after that, it was barely noticeable even at this rate the chief justice was a bit shy saying it.

"I just don't know why you could ever say you love me, how you could even think of me so kindly. Why? How? How can you love me back?" He was clueless to what you mean.

"How can I not?"

The reply you uttered was one of a teary-eyed person. Even to this moment you still haven't accepted you had died, not when he was still alone needing you.

"Just as you said… how can I not? You out of all people my dear… know of the sacrifices we make for the person we love."

It was that moment where you took your normal form, you looked beautiful as the day he lost you. As beautiful as the day you met. And as you walked towards him, the clock ticking until your final goodbye, it was time.

"I love you Neuvillette, i always had and continue to do so." For the last time, you cupped his cheek and kissed him.

"I love you, darling from the very beginning and every single lifetime to come." He let go of the kiss and hugged you tight, closing his eyes, until you disappeared not knowing he was hugging his own.

Opening his eyes, the rain was long gone, and what remained were the flowers in the bushes, the ponds, the fish, and him. Maybe… just maybe he will bring you and the other victims to light.

Until then, this one last encounter and goodbye will make him content. He was sure… that finally his love will be at rest.

#neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x reader #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette x gender neutral reader #neuvillette #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette angst #neuvillette imagines #neuvillette drabbles #genshin angst #genshin imagines

[lxclerc]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑

summary... it’s never the right time for  you and daniel, always something pulling the two of you away from each other. requested... yes by literally everyone. yall were coming at me with pitch forks for this warning... age gap (7 years), emotional cheating, physical cheating, angst, angst, angst, light smut (more on fade to black) pairing... daniel ricciardo x horner! reader

note... i am tagging each and everyone of you who asked for a part 2 bc this fic has quite literally loomed over my head ever since i posted it a year ago. literally everytime i open this godforsaken app, someone is offering me their first born for the part 2 so yall better give me all the notes!!!

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

← prev part

high tide came and brought you in

“if you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”

the question caught you off guard as your friend drunkenly pondered over it out loud. where would you go? you were sober enough to say home, the most acceptable answer that would not invite any other follow up questions. it’s simple and doesn't need a discussion. the reason it caught you off guard wasn’t just that though but because your answer was instantaneous in your head. your answer isn’t a where but rather a who, came your bitter realization. 

and you knew that if you could go anywhere in the world right now, it’d be him you’d go to. he always lingers in the back of your mind, everything that reminded him of you tends to bring a certain kind of aching and longing you’ve grown to resent over the months and years spent without him. 

daniel sent you away and deep in you, you know he meant good. he’d done a selfless thing, loving you and setting you free. but missing him was unbearable, loving him all consuming and you resent him for doing this to you. you resent the world for making you fall for a man without letting you have him. 

still, you did as he told you. you went back to school, pursuing a career in a field you knew he’d be proud of, achieving your dreams and living your life as though a part of you hadn’t been left with him. 

your friends carry on with the party. half of university was partying which is a scene familiar to you. this time, it’s on the beach, the salty air and sound of crashing waves echoing with the sound of the music and chatter. still though, you can’t help but scan the place as though looking for him among the crowd of people the same way you always would. you miss the way you’d find his eyes already on you, pools of brown dripping like honey on your skin. 

but he’s never there and you feel dirty whenever another man looks at you, their gazes too eager as they look at you as though you’re a piece of meat, never gentle like his as though you’re aphrodite herself walking among mere mortals. 

you miss him is the ugly truth. you miss him so fucking terribly it makes you angry. you don’t want to miss him. you no longer want to love him. loving him hurts, as though he’s clawing at your chest and squeezing your heart together in a sick sort of torture. 

but even before he touched you, you were his. all he had to do was look at you. you exist in two places – here and wherever he is. 

eventually as the night progresses on, you move away from the party. you’re in some fancy country club and the tile is expensive on your feet as you step out of your heels and walked towards the beach, feeling the cool sand against your skin. 

in hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been surprised to find him in a place like this but despite looking for him wherever you go, you’d never expect to find him. searching for him has become a comfort the same way longing for him has – in a sick, twisted and painful way. 

but he’s here now and in the one time you hadn’t searched for him, he found you. the moment you’d spotted his figure looking out at sea, he turned to you as though a gravitational pull connected you to him. 

one year, three months and fourteen days. that was the last time you saw him but he looked no different from the man who’d brought you back to your hotel room only to say goodbye. 

and then he smiled and it was as though the sun shone on you again. 

“honey,” he says and your heart trembles. 

daniel.

it was too early. and you’re drunk and you aren’t entirely sure if you were dreaming or not. 

but he stands before you, eyes of brown looking as though you’re aphrodite herself and he can’t quite believe he gets to stand before you. eyes of brown that seem to be sobbing without tears. daniel. 

you’re still not talking and he’s letting you, watching you so intently as though he’s memorizing your face. he looked the exact same but you know what he must be seeing. you look nothing like the woman he left behind. you’d cut your hair short and dyed it. long gone were your summer dress, replaced by tight fitting ones that showed off your body. you feel different and you tried so hard to make sure you wouldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. you hated seeing the woman who couldn’t make him stay. 

but in his eyes, you see your reflection and you recognize her well. 

“daniel,” you muttered as the crashing waves touched your feet. would you love me now? you wanted to ask. 

he smiled again. “you look beautiful as you always are.”

please touch me, you wanted to beg. soft eyes and soft soft hands. you’re lonely without him. 

you manage a grin. “sure, old man.”

the laugh that he let out echoed against your soul. “i’m being honest.”

you missed him. god, you missed him so fucking much. 

but daniel still would not let himself love you. not yet, not now that you’re finally building something for yourself. you have friends and have set goals. not yet. 

“y/n!” someone calls from behind you but you’re hesitant to take your eyes off of daniel, terrified he’d become a figment of your imagination the moment you do. but your friend's familiar calls force you to. “come on, we have to go.”

you ignore her, turning back to daniel and he smiles at you, offering his hand for you to shake. this is the best he can offer for now. “i’ll see you around, kid.” 

you wanted to cry, wanted to scream that it’s so unfair, but you smile sadly as he shook his hand, his calloused fingers so familiar against yours. 

“in a few years,” you say. 

and as the ocean brought him back to you, the waves must return to the sea. 

but you were still gone and gone, gone and gone

the next time you see daniel again, you were twenty four. you’re in your last year of university, applying for your doctorate. you loved academia, you loved your two cats and your little apartment downtown, you loved science and the galaxy it holds and you eventually realized that this is why he let you go. he wanted you to have this — be more than someone who just follows a man around country after country. 

he wanted you to grow, wanted you to find the things you really loved without influence from him. he wanted you to find your independence and learn to stand on your own two feet. 

max brought you here. it’s his first world champion and as his self proclaimed best friend, he refused to allow you to skip this one and so you pulled up your big girl pants and got on with it, arriving in abu dhabi on friday.

by some cruel twist of fate, he’s the first person you find the moment you enter the paddock. it would have been rude to ignore him and so you smile even though you can clearly see the woman next to him and the way she stands close. 

goddamn it. 

it hurt. it hurt seeing her there. it hurt seeing her cluelessly smile at you. the way he looks at you now, eyes of brown full of silent apologies, looking as though he wanted to reach over and touch you, to comfort you. 

you release a shaky breathe, raising your hand in an pathetic attempt of a wave before you walk past him. you aren’t the same young kid like before. now, you have enough self reservation to not actively put yourself in a situation that would only hurt you. you don’t need to play besties with daniel’s new girlfriend. 

the moment you enter the red bull motorhome, you hit max at the back of his head.

“what?” he exclaimed as you glared at him. 

“you’re an idiot,” was all you said before moving towards your father. you’d ignore daniel and his girlfriend. you’re here to support max – even if he is a stupid idiot – and there’s no need for you to obsess over daniel. 

but of course, you still do anyway. even as you watch the race, you’re watching him. he looks good, amazing, fucking edible. he looks like he stepped right out of your dirtiest dreams, all thick neck and stable arms. he looks beautiful, absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking and you selfishly want him just for you. but you’ve always wanted that and you’ve never been allowed to have him.

and then you’re watching her. she’s grace herself, really. she’s exactly the kind of woman he needed and you wonder if she knows about you and then you wonder what it is about her. what is it about her that made it so that daniel thought she’s good enough for him to love when he never could you?

“mate, it’s getting creepy,” max said as he took the seat before you. he looks tired but he looks determined and the way the hair falls over his face makes you smile. max is a very special person to you and you know that he always will. you hold him close to your heart and you know you’d move the earth for him. 

you reach over, fixing the collar of his red bull shirt. “shut up.”

“her name’s caroline,” max says. “if you want to get to know her then just approach her.”

you glared at him. you don’t want to know her name. you don’t want to know what her laugh sounds like or the color of her eyes. you don’t want to know what made daniel fall in love with her. you don’t want to know her. 

“shut up,” you say again. “i’m still blaming you.”

max laughed and you think him annoying you might just be his way of distracting himself from the race so you let him. you let him talk on and on and on the entire time till he’s needed back in the motorhome. you let him steal yur ice cream and tap your nose. 

but when you turned back to her, caroline, you find him staring right back at you, anger and jealousy in those brown eyes you missed so much.

and it was like you’re twenty again, petty and young as you glared right back at him. he had no reason to be jealous when he has her beside him. he has no right to be jealous when he’s the one who’s never allowed the two of you to be more. 

these hands had to let it go free

that night, he called you for the first time in three years. his name lit up your phone and your hand shook as you picked it up. his picture, smiling up at you taken at your twentieth birthday stares right back at you. 

“daniel,” you breathe out as you press the phone against your ear. you’d arrived back in your hotel room two hours ago smelling of champagne and victory. max’s world championship trophy is laying next to you after being forgotten because your best friend was far too drunk to grab it before his girlfriend dragged him out. throughout the party, you avoided daniel like the plague, keeping to your side of the room and never straying towards him. 

“i missed you,” he says from the other end, voice cracking and slurring. he’s drunk and you push back the blanket as you enter the bathroom, hand gripping your phone. “but fuck it, i don’t miss this.”

“what are you saying?” 

“he’s my best mate, y/n.” there goes your name. not sweetheart or honey. he says your name like it’s sacred, something he’s only ever allowed to say when he’s at his most vulnerable, completely raw and baring his soul to you. “and i wanted to fucking punch his face the entire night.”

you close your eyes. this is familiar to you. daniel and his raw honesty when he’s drunk. daniel and his jealousy of max. this is all so familiar to you that you feel twenty again. you feel young and out of control and so drunk in love with a man you can’t have that it physically hurts. he’s ripped you off the past few years where you’ve grown into yourself. you’re twenty again and so tragically in love. 

“i wanted to punch his fucking face because his touching you, because i’m not allowed to touch you,” he continues as you sink to the floor. 

“you’re the only one who’s never let yourself touch me, daniel,” you whispered on the phone, broken down from one phone call.

he laughs bitterly and you might as well not have said anything. “and here i am, can’t even sleep next to my damn girlfriend because i keep thinking of you. it’s so unfair.”

you wanted to laugh too. unfair? how does he get to talk about unfair when he’d been the one to create this mess for the two of you? how dare he talk about being unfair when he’s the one who’s with another girl? this is unfair. it’s unfair to you. he doesn’t deserve to talk about it being unfair. 

the night he left you in your hotel room on your twenty first birthday, you’d called his name again and again like a child. you hoped by some magical thing that he’ll appear. you were desperate. 

“you shouldn’t have come back,” he says. “not yet. we both weren’t ready.” 

you wipe the tears falling to your cheeks. “and when will that happen? when will we be ready? maybe it’s time to accept that it isn’t us.” 

you heard him let out a shaky breath. “don’t say that. don’t say it.”

“i’m so tired of waiting. if it wasn’t us then and it isn’t us now, why do we still believe that it’s us someday?” 

“ask me to stay,” he whispers. “ask me to stay and i will. ask me to drop her and i will. i will drop everything if you ask me to.”

you cry, pulling your knees against your chest. “goodbye, dan.”

struggled through the night with someone new

the next time you see daniel again, you invited him.  you’re twenty five, it’s two thousand and twenty two, you’re engaged and you’d gotten arrogant. 

you met your fiance, james, in university. you’re in the same program and the same friend group though you never paid much attention to him. for the most part, you never really paid much attention to anyone. six months later and he asked you on a date, one you’d declined without a second thought. it didn’t matter how many guys asked you out, you always declined, daniel in the back of your mind always reminding you of what you’re truly waiting for. 

but james never treated you any differently. he never made it awkward and never put you on the spot. for the most part, you both acted like it never happened. but you applied to the same doctorate program and coincidentally  ended up in apartments right next to each other. he was a comfort, a friend you already knew that you could rely on. he never made anymore advances towards you but it was inevitable to grow closer. 

he’s stability and curiosity. he never once pulled back whenever you touched him or apologized for liking you. it was a breath of fresh air – to be admired so freely. you did your thesis together, hands tightly clamped together as you defended it. 

you were the one to ask james out on a date, knowing he wouldn’t again in fear of making you uncomfortable. and after leaning on each other as friends for so long, transitioning to become lovers was so easy, you didn’t have to worry what anyone would say or think of you. you didn’t have to worry what your family would think. everything was easy with him. 

james was so different from the type of love you were used to. you could love him without guilt, without pain and longing. you could love him simply, easily. you didn’t need to ask him to love you back, didn’t need to wonder if he’d still love you tomorrow. it was so easy being with him and you’d gotten lazy. waiting and hurting and crying for daniel was exhausting. 

you wanted a love you didn’t have to fight for. 

you’ve convinced yourself that you no longer felt anything for daniel, gaslighting yourself into believing that you’d close that chapter and left it in the past. you can move on now. there was no need for you constantly being miserable and lonely waiting for him to be ready. 

and yet here you were, your fiance’s arm around you as you stare at the front door. you shouldn’t have invited him. there was no reason for you to do so but you wanted to prove yourself. you wanted to prove to yourself that he no longer affected you. daniel is in the past and you’ve told yourself repeatedly that you’ve let him go but now you wanted to show yourself that you have. 

if you’re lucky, maybe he wouldn’t attend at all.

“are you okay, love?” james whispered against your ear, having noticed your stiff posture. you spent weeks planning your engagement party, stressing over the smallest details but now you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. 

you loved this about him – the way he’s able to read you like an open book. james knows there was someone before him – someone who’d left you broken and torn apart. he just didn’t know that person would be attending today. 

you nod, taking a sip from the champagne glass you’d been holding as an excuse to stop your hands from fidgeting. “just a bit nervous from the crowd.”

“don’t worry too much. it’s just friends and family.” he gives you an assuring smile, accepting your reasoning as he pulls you closer towards him to try and comfort you. 

you’re an idiot, the biggest one there is. max told you himself after you told him that you sent the invite to daniel. you’re a massive idiot and you’re in denial and you set your own trap, tempting yourself when there was no need to and now you were going to hurt james because the moment daniel entered the room, your breath was knocked out of you, heart beating furiously as though it recognized him. 

it was daniel. how can you be so stupid? 

his eyes meets yours and you missed the way those eyes of brown settle on your skin, grazing as though his soul was touching yours. but they’re sad this time – sad and exhausted and defeated and you can practically hear the way your heart shatters. it was daniel. it has always been daniel. it will always be daniel. how stupid were you to think otherwise? how stupid were you to believe you could ever forgot the way your heart and soul roars back to life the moment he enters the room. 

you’ll break james’ heart, you’re breaking your own and you’ve broken his. 

the entire time, you and james had stood before the door, greeting all of your guests and showing them where they can wait. you absolutely had no plans to greet daniel. it was bad enough that he was here, but james, sweet sweet james, who had no idea what he was doing dragging you towards the formula one driver, hadn’t gotten the memo.

he didn’t know that having daniel’s eyes on you so close would set wildfires in your stomach and he didn’t know how exhausting and difficult it was to contain those wildfires. he didn’t know that he was burning himself as he all but dragged you in front of him. 

“hey,” your fiance says cluelessly. “daniel ricciardo!” 

daniel is looking at you and you feel frozen under his gaze. it’s heavy. he makes you feel heavy, like you were cheating on james simply by looking at you. you feel nauseous but with guilt eating up at every cell in your stomach. but you shouldn’t feel guilty. he had no right to make you feel guilty for moving on. he moved on. last you him, he had a girlfriend. why aren’t you allowed to do the same? why can’t you go on with your life and build a future with a nice man that isn’t him?

“i’m a big fan,” james says cheerfully, offering his hand for daniel to shake and forcing him to tear his gaze away from you. 

daniel forces a smile to his face, moving to shake his hand and you know this is the part where you’re supposed to introduce him. daniel is your guest after all and so you clear your throat, hoping your smile isn’t as stiff as you feel like it is. 

“james, this is my friend daniel. daniel, my fiance james.” you manage to let out, gripping your champagne glass to avoid having to touch either of them the same way you avoid the way daniel’s eyes hardened when the word fiance tumbled from your lips. 

“it’s really nice to meet you, mate,” james says with a massive smile. god he’s so nice and sweet and you hate what you’re doing to him. 

daniel says nothing, only smiling and you end this entire interaction the moment you get a chance to. pointing at the snacks table, you turned to him. “there’s food over there and max is around here somewhere. nice seeing you again, daniel.”

you were lying through your goddamn teeth. thankfully, he seems to have taken the hint, walking away without saying another word. 

the entire night, you feel his eyes on you. even as james makes his speech declaring his love for you, daniel stares at you with hooded eyes. he looks pissed and sad at the same time and you wanted to scream. stop looking at me! you couldn’t take anymore of this. he’s looking at you as though you’re under a microscope – staring into your soul like he could reach you there. 

you’re an idiot and now that he’s in the same room as you are, the illusion has left you. you’re not over daniel because you can never be over him. he’s engraved in your soul, his fingerprints all over your heart. he was, and still is, the sun that made your universe turn. you’re choking and you needed to get away lest you burst.

daniel is overwhelming. he’s terrifying and addicting and you hate him but you’re madly in love with him. and worse of all, you’ll spend the rest of your life being in love with him. you’ll spend the rest of your life wanting him and hurting for him and and longing for him and that’s a goddamn fucking tragedy. 

you manage to get through the party, practically dissociating yourself. eventually the guests leave one by one, only your family and closest friends left. you sit on the foyer with max, the dutchman watching you drink champagne straight out of the bottle.

“you shouldn’t have invited him,” he tells you quietly. “you were fucking yourself over.”

you roll your eyes. you stare inside the house where daniel is talking to your father. your dad offered his home for your engagement party. you know he likes james. your mother too and your little siblings can’t get enough of him. that fact almost makes you want to throw up. 

“i thought i was over him,” you say.

it’s max’s turn to roll his eyes. “you’re just a good liar. you’ll never be over daniel and he’ll never be over you. even i know that.”

you glared at him. you already know what he’s telling you and quite frankly, you had no desire to hear it again. “i hate you.” 

“neither you nor dan would survive this long without me.” max laughed and you threw the throw pillow at him. 

not that he’s lying. you met max the same time you did daniel and you clicked immediately. he knows everything, comforted you many times as you pined over dan. he’s your best friend and he’s also daniel’s best friend. he knows more than anyone how deep the connection you two shared. 

“go home already,” you tell him. you’re tired and slightly drunk and you just want to go to bed now. “and make sure you take him with you.” 

max laughed at the way you said him like it’s a bad taste on your tongue but did as you said anyways. 

that night, you laid on the bed you and james shared, you couldn’t sleep. he’s fast asleep next to you, his arm over your stomach as you lay wide awake. you shouldn’t have invited him because now he’s turned your world upside down again. everything you’ve built for yourself was gone the moment his eyes met yours. he’s a plague, sucking all the happiness out of you. 

eventually though, the restless night was about to get worse as you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts till you found his name. you stared at it for a while, knowing that you shouldn’t but you’re rattled and your self control is at an all time low. you shouldn’t have been trusted to make any types of decisions. 

you come back to what you need

daniel was waiting for you when you parked your car outside his apartment building, hand gripping his phone as he watched you step out of the vehicle. four years since he first let you go and one year since he last saw you and you look as beautiful as you ever were.

he shouldn’t have told you to come but he’s so exhausted from staying away, from waiting for the right time. there will never be a right time and tonight, he’s done holding back. he wants you, he always has and he no longer has the energy to stop himself from wanting you. 

“i shouldn’t be here,” was the first thing you said as he opened the door for you. 

a lazy, almost mocking smile covered his lips. “and yet here you are.”

you glared at him but daniel’s heart was soaring. it’s been so long since you were this close. he can smell the perfume that followed you and the scent of your shampoo. he’s so so tired, he just wanted to hold you. 

he’s going to make this as hard as possible, you realize. you’re no longer a child, he doesn’t need to play nice and easy with you anymore. you’re a woman now and he’s going to treat you like one. but you just need to get over this. you need closure. you need to put him in the past where he truly belongs so you can go about your life. you need him out of your system. 

daniel may be everything you wanted but it’s time to accept that he’ll never be what you need. 

“why did you come?” you asked, wanting to get this over with as quickly as you can. three years pining for him in red bull and four years of longing for him and everything leads you here. 

daniel cocked an eyebrow. he’s done with playing nice. “you invited me.”

okay, you walked right into that one. “you still shouldn’t have come.” 

daniel wanted to laugh. “i guess we  both like doing shit that we shouldn’t do. now the question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?” 

“i’m getting married, daniel,” you whispered. “we need to accept that it isn’t us.”

“i thought you did that in abu dhabi.”

he’s being an asshole. “you’re the one who told me to leave. you don’t get to be mad that i’m moving on.”

“you’re not moving on,” he laughed, leaning against the wall. 

you glared at him. “yes, i am. i’m getting married!” 

he looked at you as though you said something hilarious and you wanted to punch him in the face for it. “and yet you’re here.” 

“for closure.”

he stepped towards you and you found yourself holding your breath. from this close, you can see the freckles on your cheeks, the ones you used to spend all your time trying to memorize. the curve of his plump lips and the intensity in his eyes. and when he touched, it felt like the first drop of rain after a million years of dessert. his hand perfectly fitted on your hips, warm and so achingly familiar. 

his hand snaked from your hip to your legs, finger light on your skin as he ever so slightly tugged at your shorts. you need to pull away but your body needs him closer. you want him. you want him to get closer. you want him to touch you more, to feel his skin against yours. you can have every single inch of his body pressed against yours and you’d still begged to get closer. 

his lips graze your cheek before it reaches your ear, even breathes in contrast to your desperately shaky ones. “is that really what you want, baby?”

with every ounce of sanity you have left, you forced yourself to nod and you can feel the way his lips formed into a mocking smile against your cheek. 

“really?” he mocked. “then why are you clutching my shirt like you want more?”

you hadn’t even realized the way your fist is holding on to his shirt, pulling him closer towards you like you’re terrified he’d disappear right between your fingertips. 

“fuck,” you muttered, the heat of his skin against yours dizzying. james is nowhere near your mind as your hand slips under his shirt, self control flying out the window as you feel the curves of his abs. you want him. you’ve always wanted him so desperately that you’re willing to go to hell for it. “fuck me.” 

he kissed you then, fire in his lips as it finally finally touched yours. this is all you’ve ever asked for and it’s worth the damnation you’d be paying in return. you pull him impossibly closer, going on your tiptoes. you need to get closer. closer, closer, closer. 

like an addicted chainsmoker to cigarettes, you can’t get enough of his kiss. you want to inhale the fumes of his breath, of him, deep into your lungs. he tugs at your shirt and you pull away enough for him to get it off. 

you grunt in complaint when he pulled away from you, only to swallow it back as his lips attached to the skin of your chest, licking and nibbling as it slowly made it way down. 

“oh,” you breathe out as he lips attached to your breast, your fingers tugging at his curls as his tongue circled your nipple. 

you should have stopped him the moment his hand unbuttoned your shorts but as he bent you over and his hand slipped between your folds and he trapped your moans with his mouth, you were far too gone. god be damned, morality be damned. you’d crawl through hell for this. 

but eventually, reality comes knocking and morning comes and your bliss ends. you woke up from your phone ringing, cocooned in daniel’s arms. 

“don’t answer it,” he mutters but sleepily, you grab your phone from the nightstand, seeing james’ name on your screen. 

and that snaps you out of it, being reminded of what happened the night before and what you did and you all but jumped out of his arms as though his touch burned you. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you hurriedly put on your clothes, daniel watching you still naked from his place on the bed. you turned to him, “this never happened.”

you watched as anger slowly filled his eyes. “are you being serious right now?” 

“i’m getting married, daniel!” you’re panicking now, screaming as your phone rings again. 

“then why the fuck were you knocking on my door at two in the morning?” 

you ignore him, gathering your things. “it was a mistake.”

he’s glaring at you now, looking like he wanted to start screaming. but he remains silent, only glaring as you gather your things and put on your clothes. 

you look at him again, apologies and sorrow in your eyes. “i’m sorry but this isn’t me. this can’t be me.”

and then you left, not allowing yourself to look back as you ran to your car. maybe in a parallel universe or a different world, you sit next to each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list, but for all the universes and worlds there are, this one was not enough, not for now and not for you and daniel. 

when you finally arrive home, your father is in the kitchen, eyeing you up as you walk past him. “where were you? james was looking for you.” 

you grimace. there’s a knowing look in christian’s eyes as though whatever you reason he already knows will be a lie. and unfortunately, he’d be right. “i was out with friends.”

“at seven in the morning?” he narrowed his eyes and you hated his timing. of all times, did he have to question you now? 

“breakfast.” 

you all but run to your room before he can question you further, thanking all the gods that james isn’t there. for a moment, you stood stunned, reeling from the past twenty four hours as the guilt settles in your chest. you need to get as far away from daniel as you possibly can. you can’t be the type of woman who cheats on her fiance. you refuse to be. you refuse to break a good man’s heart like that. 

and yet as you finally calm down enough to try and fix yourself, your phone buzzes, his name appearing on your screen saying he sent you a text message. 

daniel i’ve loved you in every way i can. i loved you selfishly and so i tried loving you distantly, i tried loving you selflessly, i tried loving you correctly but i just want to love you now. if i could do it all over again, i would love you better but i can’t love you more than i do now.

this love came back to me

the wind is chilly as you step foot in hungary and the dress you wore is definitely not meant for it but still, you persevere, finding your way to the red bull motorhome and greeting your father. the last time you attended a grand prix was abu dhabi 2021 and yet it still feels like home. 

“there’s my biggest fan!” max cheered the moment he saw you, immediately wrapping his arms around you. he hasn’t seen you for nearly a year and he missed his best friend. to be fair, no one has seen you for nearly a year, disappearing from the face of the earth after your failed engagement. 

after the night of your engagement party, the guilt ate you alive as you realized that you were exactly the kind of girl you didn’t want to be and so you came clean to james. he screamed and cried and said you could work it out but you were exhausted from lying to yourself. as long as there was daniel, you can never be happy with anyone else and no man deserve to be someone you simply settled with. 

you realized then that you’d lost yourself. you don’t know who you are, don’t know who you’ve become and so you left everything you know, ignoring everyone’s calls as you attempt to find yourself. 

“actually, i’m supporting ferrari,” you joke once max finally lets you go. 

“i’ll disown you!” your father screamed from across the garage, making you and max laugh. 

“have you seen him?” max asked, whispering as though he’s telling you a secret.

you shake your head. coincidentally enough, or ironically, the first gp you attend in a while, daniel is announced to race in. and max, quite frankly, is far too excited for the two of you to see each other again. he’s had enough watching you both be stupid. 

after catching up with max and the mechanics you still know, you find yourself in a cafe with your father, talking about everything and nothing at all. christian watched your every move and you can see the worry in his eyes. he’s part of the people you ran from and you know that it was a cruel thing to do to your father. 

and then he was there and you’re all too familiar with the feeling of your world freezing the moment your eyes meet. he looks better, happier and you’re sure you look different too, hopefully more grown. 

“you’re here,” he says, unbelieving. 

you smile, genuine and free this time. “i’m here.” 

and this time around, you were both tired of fighting it. it’s him. it’s always been him. there was no point denying it. he’s the only person you’ll ever want. you are totally and irrevocably in love with him – the kind of love that’s so intense it feels like an explosion of fireworks throughout your whole body. the love that leaves you sleepless but exhilarated, speechless but poetic, lost but exactly where you're meant to be. 

and in that moment, your lives flashed before your eyes – marriage, children, growing old together. 

daniel ricciardo is the defining moment, the collision of stars that slammed into you so hard it tore your heart in pieces and only he can put it back together again. 

he smiles at you and you smile back. 

hello, love, welcome home.

and finally, finally, it felt like the world isn’t burning anymore. 

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr @xjval @gridbunny

@heyoooo1111 @littlefreaksatellite @imxthunderstorms @o0itsjustme0o @bigdickdannyric1 @hellomumitsme @llarue @ironmaiden1313 @magic-s0ul @lynnthinksthings @vainbimbo @3khaos @chimchimjiminie16 @lost-heartbeat @thxtmarvelchick @s4dgir1jaehyun @dreaminofpoison @lewishamiltonstuff @mk15x @angywritesstuff @that-aesthetic-chic @artemis-medusa @capbuckybuchanan @moonvr @softsakusas @closhelby @

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #formula 1 one shot #max verstappen

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326  @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.

There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.

Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.

And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”

Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.

Who were you, really?

He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.

Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.

Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.

After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”  

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.

Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.

The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

��Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #female reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel x reader #charlie morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer magne x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #sinless sinners #part 3 #chapter 3 #learning to get along

[lizzieisright]

omega abs ? 😣

oh my fucking god yes

female alpha!reader x omega!abby

Palestine: what can you do

Summary: Abby is sure she will never meet her dream alpha after what happened with Owen. And then she meets you.

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, descriptions of smut (heats/ruts), Owen is a piece of shit, reader is a sweetheart. Also I'll always make Ellie and Abby friends because their dynamic cracks me up every time.

Notes: this one is genuinely weird in terms of my writing style. It's 6k long for no reason except that I wanted to see how everything will play out and build some kind of omega!abby lore. Also it was meant as a bullet point thingy like hcs, but then it got too long, so the sentences might sound weird.

If you guys want something specific with omega!abby, reqs are open.

Me: *slaps the title of the fic* this bad boy can fit a whole multichapter in it.

/-/-/-/-/-/-

There's one thing Abby knows for certain when she turns 19: she is not a typical omega.

Abby's scent is not too sweet: she smells more like fresh roses than vanilla. All other omegas have more prominent scents, and Abby sees how alphas favour them. She is insecure about her scent, and she is not too prideful to admit she wants alphas to like her. Like any other omega Abby feels pressured by society to look a certain way - and she is already tall, so she starts going to the gym to get fit, to look more attractive, to grow that bubble butt everyone's talking about. She just started university and she wants to be cool.

(Ellie tells her it's all bullshit. Ellie is her biggest supporter and she is the one who growls at other alphas when it's needed. It's hilarious, because Ellie is fucking tiny. "I'm still an alpha, Anderson!" Ellie whines usually and Abby flicks her forehead.)

The gym works: she gets more attractive. Her butt is round, her arms are toned and her shoulders balance her hips, making her waist look thinner. Abby meets Owen and she thinks he is the one. He is the first alpha she spends her heat with. And well, maybe it's not how she imagined it would be, but Abby doesn't complain. After all, perfect alphas only exist in books and movies, not in reality.

(she dreamt about feeling safe and protected with her alpha, feeling loved and taken care of. Owen is all growls and bruises.)

Ellie hates Owen's guts. There's always some sick smell when they're in the same room, and Abby is doing all she can to manage it and make two of the most important alphas in her life like each other. Owen tries to convince Abby that alphas and omegas can't be friends - and it works. Abby stops spending too much time with Ellie, tricked into thinking that Ellie actually has feelings for her. Ellie lets it happen.

(Owen is so much more violent during ruts. Abby knew this too: alphas are ruthless in ruts, but she didn't expect being borderline assaulted. Again, she doesn't complain. She is in love, and Owen knows better.)

Abby keeps going to the gym, and in time her muscles grow and show more. Abby is happy - she put so much work into her body and it shows now! She is so much stronger now, and she doesn't mind that her waist is not so tiny anymore. Abby feels powerful.

Owen, however, gets grumpier with every pound of muscle on Abby's body: he doesn't like it. He doesn't support her when she shows how much progress she made.

Then he starts joking about it. He tells her it makes her look less like omega. That she is almost as big as he is. That people won't be able to tell who is the alpha in their relationship. Abby swallows everything and starts doing more cardio. She wants Owen to be happy. She wants to be his mate one day.

And then one day Abby catches Owen with another omega.

She is small and smells like coconut, she is everything Abby isn't.

Abby wants to die.

Abby calls Ellie for the first time in months, sobbing violently. Ellie picks her up and spends the night soothing Abby, and the next day beating the shit out of Owen. Yes, she is tiny, but alpha strength is alpha strength, and Ellie is furious.

Abby doesn't really recover from this. She thought Owen would be her first and her last, but now her dreams and her self-esteem are in ruins.

Abby blames herself for Owen's cheating. She blames herself for building her body, for not being omegy enough, for having a weak scent, for not being what he wanted. 

So Abby grows distant, believing she has no worth as an omega. She avoids alphas, she doesn't recognize when someone's interested. She doesn't let herself smell other people. The only alpha she still talks to is Ellie, because Ellie is Ellie. Her best goblin friend who doesn't even react to her heats, because she is so used to Abby.

(it actually breaks Abby's heart a little: is her scent so weak it doesn't affect alphas at all?)

Her younger brother, Lev, moves to the city for university when Abby is in her graduation year, and Abby puts her energy into taking care of him. She comes to his place from time to time, bringing food or snacks for him. They have movie nights as well. It makes Abby feel less alone. Less useless.

One day Lev asks her to come to the party with him: it's his first time going to a party and he has no idea what to do, especially since there'd be really cool people who are his seniors and he doesn't want to have an egg on his face. 

"Can you ask Ellie to come as well? Please? I need more cool people on my side."

Abby laughs and makes sure Ellie is going to come. Ellie adores Lev, so she agrees immediately.

This party is on another level, Abby thinks. It's not frat bros and awful alphas like it was when Abby went to parties with Owen. This party looks like all smart and successful people in the uni decided to get piss drunk, and it is as cool as it is hilarious. Abby knows some of them - she waves at Nora and hugs Manny when he sees her: they're only people Abby kept in contact with after breaking up with Owen. They stopped being friends with him the moment they found out what happened.

Lev is very nervous. He clings to Abby's arm and she laughs kindly.

"Hey, relax. You're supposed to have fun."

"Yeah, I know." Lev says, a little irritated, but it makes Abby and Ellie laugh again.

Ellie takes everything in her hands and comes back with three beers, opening them for Lev and Abby. Abby chuckles at her typical alpha behaviour, but doesn't tease her. They share a drink, and Lev is still nervous, so Ellie takes him to the dance floor and he finally relaxes next to his second favourite person and his first favourite alpha.

Or so Abby thinks.

She watches another person come to them, and by the way Ellie tenses Abby guesses it's an alpha. Abby tenses too: the protectiveness kicks in.

But the alpha smiles and hugs Lev like Abby does: like if this alpha was Lev's older sister. They talk for a bit and then Lev points in Abby's direction. The alpha nods and waves at Abby. She waves back, confused.

And then this alpha makes her way to Abby.

Abby is caught off guard: the alpha is hot. She is also friendly judging by the smile and the way she treated Lev, and Abby can’t decide how to behave around her. She is not bitter after what happened with Owen, but she is definitely out of practice of talking with hot alphas.

You watch Lev's sister's face go through a variety of emotions, and it makes you chuckle - you too would be confused. But you want to meet her and make sure she knows Lev is taken care of: he is under your wing. He is a sweet kid, shy one, and you know how nervous he is about everything, so you want him to have this safety net.

"Hi!" You say cheerfully and give your hand for a handshake. You try not to think of how beautiful Lev's sister is, how much her blue eyes hypnotise you. She is fucking adorable, that what she is. 

"Hi?" And her voice is soft too. You blink to clear your mind and tell her your name. You can’t smell her, but you’re pulled to her like a magnet.

"I'm Lev's student guide." Abby nods, not sure if she is okay with an alpha around her baby brother.

"I'm Abby, Lev's sister." You beam at Abby and she feels her stomach flutter. Abby quickly tries to kill the butterflies, but you seem so genuine. She can't smell you when there's so many people around, and maybe it's a good thing.

“Lev gave me your number as an emergency contact, and I just wanted you to know if an unknown number texts you that Lev is puking after doing beer pong, it will be me.” Abby can't help her chuckle: you do sound genuine. Abby feels like you really care about her brother and it makes her feel better. 

Lev and Ellie come back and Abby looks at how Lev's face lights up when you smile at him. Oh no. He has a crush on you. It breaks Abby’s heart: she sees how you treat him like a baby brother, and Abby knows Lev has no chance. She also thinks if she looked like this when she met Owen, all star-struck and hopeful. At least you look like a better person.

Abby also feels how tense Ellie is around you. Another alpha thing, but this one is annoying - Ellie’s protectiveness is borderline territorial, so Abby glares at her. Ellie glares back, but some of the tension goes away.

You ruffle Lev’s hair and ask him to enjoy the party and find you if they need anything. Ellie only fully relaxes when you’re lost in the crowd.

“She is the coolest.” Lev tells them and Ellie huffs. “She always helps me around. Saved my ass a few times as well.”

“Well, kid, I don’t want you to get hurt by her, okay?” Ellie says and Lev blushes. 

“Don’t worry, Ellie. I know nothing will happen.” Lev smiles. “She likes people on her level. Someone like you, Abby.”

Abby’s heart skips a beat in pain. There's no way an alpha like you would like an omega like her. 

Or if there is, then there's something wrong with you and you shouldn't be around her brother. 

“She doesn't seem too bad.” Ellie says almost through her teeth; she is as annoyed at her nature as Abby is, but she tries to have a clear head. “But if she hurts you, I'll kill her.” 

Abby would laugh, but the image of Owen's bloody face and a broken wrist don't let her. It's a good thing he didn't press charges, too humiliated to admit he got his ass kicked for cheating. 

Abby forgets about you until she is getting ready to sleep tonight. She puts her palm under her cheek, blissfully unaware, and takes a breath that is full of your scent. It shakes her, having an alpha scent on her, and Abby can't control herself.

Abby's cheeks burn, her heart picks up speed. Her cunt throbs. 

You smell amazing. It has an edge, like any other alpha’s scent, but it's not suffocating. Well no. It is, but it doesn't feel bad, it makes Abby bury her nose in her palm and take a deep sniff. It makes her feel safe. 

And Abby is terrified. She can't like your scent. It's dangerous, she can't risk herself like this, it's stupid. Lev has a crush on you, for god's sake! And even if she could, you'd never look her way. You're a good alpha and good alphas like pretty, small, sweet smelling omegas. Not Abby. 

She doesn’t know that she also left some of her scent on your palm. She doesn’t know you’ve been smelling it the whole night, addicted to the smell of fresh roses and memory of pretty blue eyes. She doesn't know that you struggle to control your eyes from changing to alpha red the whole time. 

You're ready to claw walls after meeting the prettiest omega of your life that you know is sweet and kind and smart: Lev really can't shut up about his sister. It's fucking eating you alive. 

And you have no idea when you'll meet her again, but then you remember that both of you are in the same university. So you start trying to figure out her schedule. You know she is a med student, so you take a chance at going to the library. 

And you're not wrong: Abby is there, looking miserable as she takes her notes. Your instincts kick in and you try to think of a way to make her feel better, but you get your shit together: it would be creepy. 

So you just walk over and ask to sit next to her. Abby is surprised, but she lets you anyway. 

It's awkward. You both are trying to not inhale too much, but the scents are respectively addictive: you smell her fresh roses and she smells your spice and safety. You want to bury yourself in her neck and mark her, scent her, make her yours, but you push these thoughts away.

“How's Lev doing?” Abby asks, not being able to concentrate anymore. It's even more embarrassing that you both smell of attraction, but it doesn't really mean anything: it was proven to be an instinct thing, therefore not reliable in human society. It just makes everything awkward for everyone.

“He is excellent, honestly. He got interested in charity work and I think he will soon be cleared to volunteer at animal shelters.” 

“Good. Thanks for looking after him. I don't want him to get hurt, you know?” Abby didn't mean to say this, but you catch the meaning of her words anyway. She can smell a faint hurt coming from you, but it's not big enough. 

“I'll do whatever I can to make sure he is safe.” You promise Abby and her attraction grows. You blink, but get back into conversation, trying to find more about Abby. 

Abby is.. reluctant. She is polite, but her answers are short, and you're not an idiot, you can take a hint, so you apologise for taking her time and go. 

Abby watches you go and gets filled with sorrow. You seem so sweet, and it scares her. She can't understand what is your angle and why are you bothered with her. She is sad because she wants you to be bothered with her. She wants you to like her; but Abby's brain doesn't even entertain the idea of it. Plus, Lev is crushing on you, it would be absolutely unfair of her to like you. 

The sour smell of sadness makes Ellie restless when she gets to the library half an hour later for their study session. She looks Abby over and tries to piece together what's wrong. 

“Did something happen?” 

Abby is also reluctant to tell Ellie, but she does it anyway. Ellie frowns the whole time, not pleased with another alpha upsetting her baby. Abby is quick to defend you and say that it's she who is the problem. Ellie kicks her under the table. 

“You are not a problem. It's Owen in your head again! Let go of this asshole. There are better alphas than him, fuck, any decent alpha is better than him. Don't assume shit.” Ellie tells her and Abby nods. 

Abby decides to try. Maybe at least she can make a friend. So the next time you see her in the library, she actually smiles at you. 

You swallow. Hard. Abby is gorgeous. 

So you sit next to her and surprisingly, the conversation flows so much better than the last time. You think she was just super busy back then.

Abby is so fucking oblivious it's not funny. She talks to you like she'd talk to Ellie: she doesn't believe your scent, convinced it's just nature and alphas are like this sometimes, so she is relaxed. You can be friends, she thinks. You're great and smell amazing, so you can be friends. 

You're almost salivating the whole time. Abby is cute as fuck, and she is hot as fuck: she takes her hoodie off and stays in a tight crop top, and you ogle at her arms and shoulders. She is incredible. 

“I know we've just met, but I can't leave without asking. Would you go on a date with me?” 

Abby's scent spikes in surprise, and then anxiety. An awful, sick smell that makes you back off. 

“Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.” You tell her, eager to get rid of this stench, to keep Abby calm and safe. 

“Are you sure?” Abby asks, not really believing her ears. 

“I mean, I really want to get to know you better.” You admit. 

“Lev has a crush on you.” Abby blurts and you laugh kindly. 

“I know. We talked about it with him. I don't let this stuff slide when it happens.” It makes Abby feel a little easier. “But if you're uncomfortable, I totally get it. I'd love to be your friend as well.” 

“...I need to talk to Lev first.” Abby admits, her cheeks feel hot. 

“Of course. Let me know then.” You smile sweetly, your scent is so full of attraction it's hard to find an excuse for it, so Abby just ignores it. 

She smells excited now and you beam. “You’re so pretty.” You blurt before you can stop yourself, but Abby starts to smell so sweetly and her cheeks are rosy now, you feel on cloud nine. 

“Thanks, I guess.” She says, shy, and you nod. You say your goodbyes and leave Abby to study. 

Abby thinks she's gone insane. Or you've gone insane. There's no way you actually asked her on a date. 

But Abby wants to go so much. She didn't admit it, but she was getting lonely, and then suddenly you came along and made her heart beat faster. 

So she gains courage and talks to Lev. He gets sad, but not the sour kind, the faint lavender of regret. 

“I told you she would like you.” Lev smiles and Abby hugs him, trying to comfort him. “She is good, I promise.” 

“I'm sorry, Lev.” 

“Don't be.” Lev chuckles and they spend the evening watching the movie. 

Next day you text Abby to find out if everything worked out and she gives you a positive. You grin like an idiot the whole day and plan the date.

You don't get all romantic on your first date, since you feel like Abby might get anxious, so you two just go to a bar and have a game of pool. 

It's perfect: you both are competitive, you get to see Abby bend down and you get to flirt a lot after a drink. Abby is wearing high waisted jeans and her bubble butt looks amazing in them. You don't know this, but Abby was desperate to make herself look more like an omega, and even if she couldn't hide her shoulders and biceps, she wanted to compensate for it, showing off her butt. 

Abby is oblivious to your hungry eyes when she takes a hit, but you're struggling. Abby is sweet and she smells so fucking good. You're itching to touch her, but you keep yourself in check. So instead you compliment her. A lot. 

Abby is flustered: no one ever talked to her like this. No alpha made it clear to her that they found her this attractive. But you keep your mouth running. “Your shirt looks so good on you.” “Sorry, I can't stop staring at your shoulders. They're very nice.”

Abby laughs at this one and feels more comfortable in her own skin. So she opens up. “My ex didn't like that I work out so much.” She chuckles, and you look at her in mock offence. It makes her laugh. 

“What a fucking idiot. Only cowards don't appreciate muscle mommies.” You scrunch your nose and Abby laughs harder. 

“God, what is this nickname?”

You get flustered and Abby feels all giddy. She didn't expect any alpha to get flustered, especially not because of her. “You know. When girls, especially omegas, build up a lot of muscles? People really dig it.” 

“Do you?” Abby asks, coy, and she sees the red flash in your eyes. It makes her press her thighs together. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” You say and there's a hint of an alpha voice. Abby's chest is going to explode. 

You don't kiss Abby properly tonight, instead opting to kiss her hand: you like her, and you don't want to rush it. Abby gets flustered and you can't help the spike in your scent that makes Abby's cheeks red. 

(No, you don't get off on her scent when you come home.) 

(No, Abby doesn't fuck herself on her fingers when she comes home, burying her nose into her palm where she can catch your scent.) 

You both take it slow. You kiss her for the first time on your third date and Abby folds in your hands while you purr and knead her sides. 

Abby starts spending more time at your place, where you just cuddle and watch something. You start catching her scent all around your apartment, and it's driving you crazy. You want Abby to be yours so desperately, but you make yourself think with your head and not with your dick, so you don't rush.

You're in your class when you get a call from Lev. You don't pick up the first one, but when he calls for the second time, you walk out of the class and take the call. 

Lev is crying. 

Turns out his heat came during his class and now he is scared of going home on his own. Your instincts kick in and you grab your shit at a lighting speed before storming to Lev. You text Abby while you're running, and then your mind shifts into protective mode. 

It's hard being around an omega in heat: it's hard for the both of you. Lev clings to you while you wrap your arm around his shoulders and walk him from campus to his place. You know your eyes are red and you're low-key growling, but you keep comforting Lev. 

“It's okay. I'll get you home, and Abby is going to be here, okay? I'll keep you safe, don't worry. You're doing great, just a little more, can you walk a little more for me?”

Your voice soothes Lev and you make it to his place where Abby is already pacing in worry. 

She takes a look at you and her breath hitches. Your eyes are red and so hungry, Abby feels horny and sorry for you: she doesn't know how much willpower you need to keep your head straight when there's an omega in distress and in heat. 

You both get Lev inside his apartment and you retreat to the kitchen while Abby takes care of Lev. She fusses around, gives him pills and sends him to take a shower. You sit straight, your firsts tight as you watch your girlfriend being all motherly. This mixed with the smell of heat makes you feral. It gets harder to control, especially when Abby stands in front of you, her gorgeous scent in your nose. 

“How are you?” She asks, compassionately. And you grit your teeth. 

“Can you-” You start with a growl and you smell Abby's arousal. “Fuck. Can you come here?” You pat your lap.

The moment Abby sits down you grab her and bury your nose in her neck, your arms are tight around her back. Abby yelps when you press her closer and her scent spikes with arousal, making you growl. 

“I'm not- I'm not going to do anything. I just need a moment.” You growl and Abby swallows. Her arousal tickles your nose and you growl louder, pressing your nose closer to her scent glands.

Abby is so wet in her pants she is afraid she will leak on you, but she can't help it: you're usually so sweet, hiding your nature, and now you're acting so alpha-like, and it does things to her.

“Shit. We can't-” Abby's arousal gets mixed with anxiety and you want to sneeze to get it out of your nose. 

“We're not doing anything. Not like this. I just need a redirection.”  You take a deep inhale full of Abby's scent and you finally settle down. Your voice returns and you feel like you can control your eyes again. You ease your hold on Abby and the anxiety goes away. “Did I scare you?” 

Abby is baffled. It's such a big contrast to how Owen treated her before, she is lost for words. You're worried if you sniffing her scared her while Owen didn't care if he left bruises.

The air gets filled with the smell of fresh bakery - the scent of love and affection - and you almost tremble under Abby in excitement.

“A little. I was worried if you'd stop.”

“I have excellent self-control, baby.” You wink at Abby and she slaps your bicep.

She moves a certain way that makes her pelvis move against yours and you grunt: the scent of Abby's arousal got you half-hard already, and you're kinda sensitive now. 

Abby also feels it. She grows red and you giggle, kissing her cheek. 

“Lev is going to be out of the shower soon, I should go.”

“Okay.” Abby gets up from her seat on your lap and you pout. “Do you want-” Abby shakes her head. It's a stupid idea. 

“Do I want what?”

“Something with my scent?” 

You swallow and nod. Abby stands for a second, thinking, and then just takes her shirt off, letting you see her in a bra. You see her small tits covered by her lacy bra and adjust your pants. She is so fucking hot and this is so not the time, but your cock twitches and gets harder with every second while you stare at the most beautiful omega in your life. 

“You're a fucking menace.” You growl again and kiss Abby with hunger, the rumbling in your chest resonating in hers. Abby goes pliant and kisses you back. 

It takes you two tries to get away from her, but Abby is so delicious it's insane. 

You spend the evening in your apartment, getting off on Abby's shirt, fantasising about her going into heat and how you would take care of her and how good you would make her feel. 

You're together for a few months now when Abby's heat comes. You can smell it on her the day before, when she is all whiny and tired, sleeping for the bigger part of the movie on top of you. Her usual rose scent is getting stronger. 

“Are you close to your heat?” Abby hums in agreement and you swallow, staring at the ceiling. “Okay. I can smell it.” 

“Oh.” Abby is surprised. She doesn't have a very prominent scent so she didn't expect you to notice. “Oh I didn't think you'd smell it.”

“Your scent is my fucking heaven, of course I would.”

Abby blushes. Deeply. And you feel her press her thighs together. It makes your dick twitch. 

“I think it'll start tomorrow.” 

“Do you want me to be with you?” You ask innocently and Abby chuckles. “I mean, we haven't done anything yet and I understand if you want to wait and have normal sex first. Well, if you even want to have se-”

Abby cuts you off with a kiss and you relax. “We can try normal sex now.”

And you do. It's slow and sweet and you both laugh when you bump heads and knees and when you have to fumble around for lube since you're messy, but it's perfect. 

You're not aggressive, but you still growl and claw at Abby's soft thighs, and it's a perfect balance of care and pure animalistic want, and Abby feels wanted. She kinda wants to see your control break. 

And then you dip down between her thighs and Abby yelps and pushes your head away, shy. “You don't have to-”

“I really fucking want to. But if you don't want me to, it's okay. I won't.”

“I've never done it before.” Abby admits, embarrassed. She asked Owen to do it once but he looked weirded out by her ask, so Abby felt ashamed to ask again. You stare at her in shock - a good-natured one - and Abby hides her face. 

You slow down and get on her level again, gently moving her hand away. “Hey, it's cool. I didn't mean to belittle you, I just- you're so pretty and so gorgeous, who wouldn't want to go down on you?” Abby looks at you, so deeply touched by your care she feels her eyes water. She smells of love again and you giggle, burying your nose in her neck. “We don't have to do it.”

“I kinda wanna try.” Abby murmurs, smiling, and you beam at her. 

“I'll go slow, okay? Tell me what feels good and what's not, yeah?”

That's how Abby ends up being eaten out for the first time. She loves the feeling of your mouth on her and how your fingers curl inside her. She loves how your eyes gradually become alpha red the closer she is to cumming. 

She comes down from her high and looks at you, half naked and red-eyed, like a predator you're meant to be, and her cunt throbs. 

Abby rides you until you're a grunting mess under her as she massages your tits and clenches around you. You growl, but you don't grab her or hurt her, just let her have fun, and Abby is so fucking happy. 

“I can't wait to spend my heat with you.” Abby moans and you cum immediately, filling her up. 

This time Abby gets to feel safe and taken care of during her heat as you attend her every whim, every request, from “cum inside me” to “I really want some chocolate ice-cream”. You do everything, and Abby can't be happier. She texts Ellie as much when you're out to get her ice-cream and Ellie just sends vomiting emojis. 

Of course then she tells Abby she is happy for her and that she is going to be a best woman at your wedding. 

Abby doesn't want to admit, it scares her, but she wants to be your mate one day. 

You come back not only with chocolate ice-cream, but with some junk food as well. Abby can't help but to drop to her knees right in the hallway. 

You also help Abby recover after the heat, bringing her snacks and letting her nap every chance you can, and Abby knows she is in love with you. She doesn't even need to tell you: she constantly smells of love and lust around you now, but she decides to do it anyway.

You're balls deep in her while she pinches your nipples and nibbles at your scent glands, making you whimper in her ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”

“I love you.” Abby says sweetly and you shudder on top of her, and Abby feels how your cock twitches when you cum. Abby feels your fangs scraping her scent glands and she cums too, milking you. 

“Fuck, baby, shit! I love you too, I love you so fucking much, shit-” You pant and Abby grins. 

Abby likes making a mess out of you. 

For some insane reason, Abby's excited for your rut. She didn't like spending ruts with Owen, but you're so gentle and patient, Abby is sure she'll be okay. 

Your rut comes after a month after Abby's heat. Abby likes how possessive you get in pre-rut, even though you start growling at Ellie, which doesn't end well with Ellie's explosive temper. You get along well any other time, but the constant stare down irritates Ellie to the point when she tells Abby, “go fuck the crazy out of your alpha, she is so fucking annoying. Yeah, you.” Ellie stares at you while you tug Abby closer on your lap, scenting her. “Oh my god, get a fucking room. I know Abby is like, your Jesus or whatever, but it's too much.”

Abby just giggles and enjoys how your growling changes to purring. Abby turns to you and cradles your face. “My alpha.” She murmurs and Ellie groans.

“I fucking hate you guys.”

“Not our fault you fell in love with another alpha, Ellie.” You chuckle. 

“Fuck off.” She growls and two if you laugh. 

Abby stays at your place and you get to fall asleep with her in your arms.

On the next day you wake up with a heavy head. You're already hard and Abby is right there, soft and sleeping. You think about how her wet hot pussy feels around your cock and your pheromones spike up so high Abby wakes up. 

She can tell right away that you're in rut. Your scent is suffocating. It's not soft, safe suffocating scent that Abby likes, it's the one that gets stuck in her nose and makes her cunt clench around nothing. She wants nothing more than to get on her fours and present herself for you - this is how much power you have over her. 

“My rut-”

“Yes, I-”

“If you don't want to be here, I think I can hold off for 10 minutes and let you leave.” You growl and it only turns Abby on. 

So she does what she wants - she gets on her knees, her cunt right in front of your face, and arches her back. 

“Knot me, baby.” 

All your restraints break. You're rough and you make Abby take everything: if she is not cumming on your cock, she is cumming on your fingers as you fuck your cum back into her, or she is sitting on your face. Abby struggles to keep up with you, since she is not in heat, but she can't wait to take your knot, and she tells you as much. You growl and fuck her harder, feeling your release building up. Abby is so pretty under you, covered in marks, her tits red from your mouth. She spreads her legs and you pin her thighs by her sides, watching your cock disappear in her pretty little pussy. You finally push your knot into Abby and she whimpers, tries to adjust to your size, but you rub her clit and she clamps on you.

“Mine. My omega. My girl.” You growl loudly while Abby clenches around your knot, thrashing on the bed. It's too much pleasure and she knows you're far from done.

And Abby is right. You make her cum on your knot four other times, and only after she makes you cum again - which means she cums st least three times more - you give her a break. You're still sweet, but now it's possessive sweetness. You don't let her do anything, bathing and feeding her, but she is so exhausted she doesn't even notice. 

“I wanna nap.” Abby tells you when she is snuggled against your chest. It's a small break before you would get horny again. 

“You should. You did so well.” Abby giggles and nuzzles your neck. 

“Don't wait if you get horny again. It would be a nice way to wake up.”

“I fucking love you.”

“You better. You're my alpha. It's a requirement.”

“You call me your alpha again and you're not napping, babe. Go the fuck to sleep.” You kiss her forehead and Abby laughs.

Abby doesn't know if it's luck or destiny, but this time she is sure: you are the one for her.

(and she is right.)

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #omega!abby #written on a knee

[a-spes]

| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - part two (4.070 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Men & minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, nothing else for the moment (I think?)

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

When Natasha realised that you left nothing to her, taking even her cheque book, she had to call her sister, asking her to come and pay for her. Even if she tried to be as nice as she could in such a situation, she couldn’t keep her words from being harsh.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt so humiliated. Natasha Romanoff, known as one of the most successful entrepreneurs of her generation, having to explain to the waiter that she can’t pay, having to ask her sister for money. It is something that shouldn’t have happened, something that needed to be repaired. 

If one thing was sure, it’s that Yelena has not been happy to be woken up by her sister’s bad mood, but she complied with her request without questioning it, knowing better than to argue with her eldest. 

“Don’t you dare to say a word", she warned when she eventually saw the blonde approaching the table.

She had been sitting here for almost an hour, waiting for her sister who decided to take her time. It was a childish way of avenging the brutal awakening she underwent, and the redhead would certainly have laughed if she wasn’t already irritated, and the youngest’s attitude only made it worse.

On the contrary, when Yelena saw her sister sitting at the table, she forgot about her bitterness, realizing how funny the situation was. She never could’ve imagined her sister calling her because she needed money. She is one of the richest people that exist on earth, and one of the most far-sighted at the same time. She always has her phone, at least two cards, her cheque book, and an absurd amount of cash, just in case.

The smile that grows on her face as she realizes how improbable the situation is earns her a slap on the back of the head, and Natasha never holds back her strength.

“Ouch!" She said, rubbing where she was hit, “it hurts!” She complained, but her sister doesn’t seem to care. In a second, the smile disappeared, giving way to a dark look.

“Shut up", the redhead said, rolling her eyes. She knows her sister as the back of her hand, and she also knows that the strength she put in that slap wasn’t enough to hurt her. She probably barely felt it, and is just too much of a cry baby sometimes. Something that’s pissing off the redhead that is in no mood for that kind of game. “Shut up, or you’ll learn what real pain is", she added, not even trying to hide the threat behind her words.

“You’ve no right to snap at me when I came all the way just to help you", she protested, and if they both knew she was right, her words were greeted by a simple sigh from the redhead who ran her hand over her face. No apologies, just silence. 

She couldn’t even remember the last time she witnessed her sister in such a state of distress, but she knows that nothing good came out of it. If she enjoys it when the oldest terrifies her men, she fears the incensed decisions she will inevitably make.

She could burn the whole city if she wanted to.

And Natasha has to admit that the thought crossed her mind a few times while she was waiting for the blonde to show up. She was barely able to control her anger, and couldn’t help but bounce her right leg under the table while her fingers were tapping on the table. But none of these actions helped to calm her nerves.

“I abandoned really important things, you know”, she added, as she took her wallet out of her pocket to put it in her sister’s hand. She had outstretched it toward her, and Yelena didn’t need words to understand what the redhead wanted. “All of that because you forgot your wallet …", she mumbled under her breath, but obviously the other heard it.

“I didn’t forget my wallet, it has been stolen”, she muttered, as if it could make the situation less embarrassing, as if she hoped her sister wouldn’t hear, but none of these statements turned out to be true. 

“You’re joking, right?” she asked back, not believing the oldest. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone if that’s the case”, she added, sure that her sister was lying to her in an attempt to hide what she probably considered as a weakness.

That’s what her sister always does. Most of the time, she is perfect, but when she inevitably makes mistakes, she always finds excuses. She blames her men, runs away, or pretends it has never happened, and Yelena feels like it’s exactly what’s happening right now. She is thinking that her sister has forgotten her wallet, but doesn't want to admit it. 

Maybe because the idea of Natasha being robbed sounds unbelievable.

“I am not lying, someone stole me”, she said again, and her sister better not make her repeat it a third time because she will really lose her temper this time. Everytime she said it out loud, it only made it a bit more real, as if she couldn’t quite believe it before. But the realization is now sinking in, and she feels like she is becoming crazy with all the thoughts that are crossing her mind at the moment. “They took everything", she angrily added, throwing the empty wallet on the table, only for the youngest to check.

And her sister was right. They took everything, not leaving a single penny. The blonde was so shocked that she didn’t even know how to react.

“But … who’s stupid enough to steal things from The Natasha Romanoff?” She managed to ask, once the initial surprise had worn off, “and how did that even happen?” she added, looking at her sister who was now pacing up and down the terrace.

But she knew she wouldn’t get an answer, at least no today. Her sister was ignoring her voice, too busy mumbling things to herself, and she would probably be thrown over the edge if she interrupts, so she waited for them to be in the car to talk again.

She didn’t even complain when the oldest stole her keys, deciding that she will be the one to drive without even asking first. The blonde slipped in the passenger seat, muttering a few insults that Natasha pretends not to hear.

“So, what do you want us to do?” she eventually asked after they’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes. She was looking at the redhead, the one who was staring at the road, lost in her thoughts. 

“Nothing,” she replied, and brought back to reality by the question, she started the car, trying to ignore the look of surprise on her sister’s face. 

“Nothing?” she repeated, “so you’re just going to let them go away when they robbed you?” she continued, and the lack of reaction from her sister made her want to shake her sister to get her thinking straight.

“Nothing yet” she corrected her, putting an end to Yelena’s protests. Despite what the other may think, she doesn’t intend to let the culprit be forgiven. It has never been her intention, and she knows exactly what to do to get every penny back.

When she notices the determination in the eyes of the oldest, she knew the next months were going to be interesting. She smirks at the thought.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

This time was the last. 

That’s what you said to yourself after every theft, and it has never been true, because you never earned enough to get out of this situation. What you were stealing was usually just enough for you to survive a few weeks, and even if you kept telling that to yourself, you stopped believing that it could become a reality. 

It was nothing more than a dream, you head knew it, even if your heart never stopped dreaming about a future brighter than your present. Every night, the day you would eventually be out of misery was the last thing you were thinking about, and you spent hours imagining how it would look like. 

You wanted an apartment that would be big enough to welcome the friends you would have made, and a job that you appreciate, but about which you would still complain. 

At first, it was only about stealing the essentials, a jumper or an apple for which you would feel guilty for days. It’s when you stopped fearing that someone would catch you that you’ve started to think bigger. The few people who witnessed your theft generally decided that they weren’t paid enough to come after you, a little girl isn't worth their energy.

The years have gone by, and if the number of your victims increased, your wealth hasn’t. That’s when you realized that stealing money from the tourists in the street was not what would give you a better life, and decided to go after the richest people on the earth, the ones that probably wouldn’t even notice if you’d taken a few hundred dollars from their wallet.

One day, you’ll be making so much money that you will be able to pay for your debts.

Slowly, this need to survive has turned into a need for a life where you would have something to call yours. You didn’t want something to eat, you wanted an apartment. You didn’t want stolen clothes, you wanted something bought with your own money. Even a cup or a pen would be enough, as long as you could claim it as yours. 

One day, you’ll deserve everything you have.

You stopped stealing almost two years ago, when you eventually raised enough money to start a new life, and the dream became a reality. It took you a lot of time and effort, but you eventually got exactly where you’ve been dreaming of being since your teenage years.

It was thanks to the inattention of this woman who hadn’t blocked her card when it was stolen, neither she declared her cheque book stolen, allowing you to use it as you wished for months. Usually, your victims are quick to solve the problem, leaving you only with the few notes you stole from their wallets.

But this time, you were left with more money than you ever had, more than enough to buy a ticket to another city, and still being able to buy essential supplies after. You could leave, rent a room for a few weeks, just until you find a job and get your first pay, you could even buy some new clothes, and you would still have enough money.

At first, you thought there was a catch, but the days have gone by, they became weeks, months, then years, and if the card and the cheque book never stopped working, nothing bad happened. No one ever knocked at your door, no letter got sent, and the feeling of dread you felt every time you paid has finally disappeared.

Maybe she forgot. Maybe she didn’t even notice. Maybe there was a problem that never got fixed. Maybe it’s just taking a lot of time. You have no idea, but you can’t help but wonder why, thinking about all the reasons that must have led to that situation.

It is fate. 

That’s what a part of your mind is whispering to you, and you ask nothing more than being able to believe it, the other part trying to understand the situation without being able to make sense of it. Even after two years, the question was still in the back of your mind, and you’re almost sure that you could still use the card if you wanted to.

But you don’t, because you made a promise to yourself. You swore that, the moment you would earn enough money to support yourself, you would stop using hers. It has been a bit more than a year since you found your job, and this part of your life feels so foreign now. The only reminder of your past is that box, where you’re keeping all the cards, cheque books, and wallets you once stole. The one that’s hidden in your closet, where no one could see it, not even yourself. The one that contains a past you want to forget about. 

You now have a job, an apartment, and you even made some friends on the way. They’re good people, hanging out with them makes you feel like you are too. They never asked questions about where you’re coming from, because they don’t need to know, they’re just appreciating you as you are. The grown-up version of who you were once.

When late at night guilt gnaws at your mind, you’re thinking about their compliments. When the sadness at the thought of your younger self never being loved that way, your memories with them remind you that you succeed to become someone that can be loved.

Someone that deserves everything she has.

There is only one person that had glimpses of who you were, and it’s Kate Bishop. Even if you’ve tried to keep your secrets away from her, it’s hard to do so when you’re spending all your days and nights with someone so curious.

Kate is a coworker, a roommate, but mostly your closest friend. It’s not because she understands you more than anyone else. It’s because she never makes a big deal of anything, and you know nothing you could tell her about you would change the way she acts around you. This girl is everything you want to be: free and happy.

Someone that doesn’t care about social norms. 

She would sneak into your room in the middle of the night just because she heard you cry. She wouldn’t even ask questions about the reasons behind the tears, only complaining about how thin the walls are, and how she can’t sleep because of that. 

She would go through your belongings when she needs something but she can’t ask you because you’re not home, only telling you when she gives the objects back.

She would answer your phone when it’s ringing while you’re in another room or your hands busy, holding the conversation as if the calls were intended for her. 

That’s how she discovered you were looking for a new place to stay. You’ve only been coworkers for a few months when she answered your phone. It was the social worker who called to tell you that you’ll have to move out of your flat within the next weeks because you no longer meet the criterias.

Your first reaction was to yell at Kate. It has been the first and only time you’ve done it, usually not minding when she does it. 

But this time it was different: you were scared. You didn’t know her a lot at that time, and you were fearing that this call would destroy the relationship you had started to build. You put so much effort into pretending that everything was fine, and had always been that way, that you thought the truth coming out would ruin everything.

She was the first relationship that you didn’t build on lies, at least not on the big ones. She also has been the first to be able to hold a conversation with you for a while. Not Lydia, or any name you might have borrowed by the past, but just y/n.

When you’ve spent your whole life lying, it’s not easy to know who you are.

It was a bad habit that you had a hard time quitting, still having the urge to lie about some details. Maybe to appear as a more interesting person, maybe because you are afraid to disappoint them. 

No, it’s because it’s comforting.

It’s what gave you a bit of hope, what gave you the impression that you had a normal life. You’ve never been interested in living the marvelous lives of your alias, you just wanted a normal one for you. Maybe if you tell these stories a lot of time, your mind will accept them as reality. 

Over the years, lying became more than a habit: it was an addiction. You felt bad every time you lied to the black-haired, even if it was only about small and insignificant things, like your favourite colour, but you couldn’t just stop. It’s only that day that you realised that it might ruin everything between the two of you.

Everything has been so easy since you met Kate. You never felt like you were too much, or in the wrong place, because she always made sure to integrate you into the team, and you’re still regretting the words that fell from your lips that day. 

She was the first genuine friend you’ve made, and that’s how you thanked her kindness, with snide remarks that she didn’t deserve.

For a minute, you saw yourself back there. In that lonely and miserable place.

But she didn’t get angry. Nor for the lies, nor for the horrible things you said. She didn’t look at you with pity, but with something that was closer to surprise, as if she couldn’t quite understand your reaction, but knew enough to not judge. That’s when she asked you to be her flatmate.

Kate was the first one to learn about your favourite colour, the real one, and all your daily habits. From your favourite thing to eat for breakfast to the time you get up, she knows things you never thought you would share with someone one day. Kate has been the first one to see y/n. The one that doesn’t wear any mask, the one that does not need to pretend she is someone else.

Then, it was your turn.

Tonight, when you’re looking in the mirror, the only thing you can see is your smile. A bright, and big one. Even with makeup on, you are not looking or feeling as anyone else than yourself. Every choice has been made by you to suit your taste. 

“Are you done yet?” She asked, and you could hear Kate’s muffled voice through the bathroom’s door, “we’re going to be late!” She complained for what’s probably the tenth time in the last quarter, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was stamping her foot on the other side of the door, throwing a tantrum like a child.

“Isn’t it what celebrities are supposed to do?” you replied, a smug smile on your face as you eventually opened the door after spending more than an hour in the room. 

Everything needs to be perfect, and perfection demands time, something your impatient roommate doesn’t seem to agree with. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, she grabbed your arm.

“That’s not funny!” she exclaimed as she started dragging you toward the entrance. You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes at her attitude.

You know that the real reason behind her actions isn’t a concern for punctuality, Kate always being late, but just a result of her excitement for the evening that’s coming: some friends of hers are going to play music in a bar, and she doesn’t want to miss even a second of the show. A simple glance at the clock confirms what you were thinking: you’re not late. 

But you also know it’s useless to argue with the black haired woman when she is in that state of mind, so you just go along with it, letting your friend drag you toward the entrance. You have just enough time to grab your bag before you leave the apartment.

You are too focused on your footsteps to be listening to her rambling about the coming party, trying to not trip on your own feet. But she isn’t listening to you either, deaf to your pleas for her to slow down, or to let go of your arm, and it’s only when you arrive at the said bar that you get your freedom back. 

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

She never forgot.

She has been thinking about what happened that night every day since. The years have gone by, but it never left her mind, and picturing all the ways in which she could get back what you owe her was soothing her to sleep every night.

Despite her impatience, she took her time, waiting for the moment you would’ve forgotten about her, when you would let your guard down, thinking that your past mistakes had been forgotten, and forgiven. Maybe your previous victims did, but she has nothing in common with these guys, and chasing you wasn’t about the money. It was about dignity.

She needed to make you feel the same shame that she had that morning. 

Some of her associates don’t understand her obsession, even her sister sometimes suggested that she let it go, fearing that it would jeopardize the company. But she stayed firm; you started a game that night, and she is not the kind that appreciates losing.

She is determined to show you that two can play that game.

It wasn’t difficult to track you down. The only obstacle had been the false identity you built for yourself, but it had only been a matter of months before she found you, there was no way she couldn’t recognize your face on the security tape. It was in the middle of the night, one of those where she couldn’t sleep, and eventually decided that she would rather look for you instead of tossing and turning in her bed, consumed by her thoughts.

That’s when she found it, a footage from a shop’s security camera where your face appeared. You were nothing like the woman she met at the party, from your hair to the way you were moving, you definitely had none of Lydia’s elegance, and she couldn’t even understand how you’ve been able to pretend to be her, and how you’ve possibly been good enough to fool her, The Natasha Romanoff.

But despite the numerous differences, she was sure it was you on that video. There were details you couldn’t change, and the shape of your jaw was one of them. She could still see your face as she had you pinned beneath her that night, her fingers running along your cheeks, wishing that moment would last forever. 

Since then, she kept collecting these videos as a kid would collect cards, watching them regularly. The footage made everything make sense, and you seemed closer than ever as she kept hitting the replay button.

She had to admit that you are smart, but not smart enough, and everytime you used the card was one more clue guiding her in the right direction. At first, she was able to track your movements, it only took her a few more weeks before she discovered your identity, and more importantly, learned about your past.

A few weeks, that’s all it took, yet she had waited several years before going after you, deciding it was the right time only when you started building a new life for yourself. You moved to a city where no one knew your name, you got a normal job, and haven’t stolen since. You even made some friends. You got the life you have probably dreamed about since your teenage years, and she knew that perfectly. 

She also knew that the moment she would break your illusion of peace, and steal your hope of a better life, you’ll be heartbroken. Hopeless.

She saw how, as the years went by, you started to be less cautious, thinking that your past mistakes were nothing more than faded memories in your mind. She saw how you eventually stopped looking around every time you were going out, how you started opening up to your friends, seeming to forget about what you have done. 

But she didn’t forget, and she promised herself that you wouldn’t either. It’s only fair that you pay for your mistakes, isn’t it? 

She started the car when she saw you, and Kate, disappear round the corner. You were obviously out for the night, and it was the perfect opportunity. No one would pay attention to the disappearance of a girl, not in a crowded, dark place that reeked of alcohol and illegal substances.

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

| tag list - @thalia-is-not-ok / @tobiaslut

#a spes writing #pretty faces dark souls #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow fanfiction #dark natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #reader insert #female reader

[stsgluver]

synopsis. zenin naoya and his lack of respect for women. [part of the dynasty series]

wc. 970

tags/warnings. rich boy!gojo, idk what else, zenin naoya exists, established relationship

a/n. i switch between present and past (like five mins prior) throughout BUT IF IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE PLS LET ME KNOW. this has been sat in drafts for 2 months.

“i wouldn’t have stopped you from punching him.”

gojo scoffed, pushing his hands through his hair frustratedly. the two of you sat together on the cold stone steps outside of some large historic building. 

“i don’t think i would’ve stopped,” he let out a ragged breath and you rested one of your hands on his knee. his fingers naturally came to intertwine with yours and you think you saw his shoulders relax ever so slightly at the contact.

a silence settled between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. your boyfriend was reliving the last hour and you were doing your best to try and forget it.

“is he always like that?” you asked quietly. the he in question being zen’in naoya. 

this was the first event that you had attended with gojo, and the first event gojo had ever attended with an actual date. he’d always turned down all of the girls his father offered to him (the children of other tech ceo’s that his father was encouraging him to get close to only for the benefit of his own bank account) and he’d never had a real girlfriend to bring prior to you.

“unfortunately,” he hummed quietly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles lightly. you shivered from the cool breeze and dared to shuffle closer to him. 

you’d experienced many sides of gojo since you’d begun your relationship, but never had you seen him so irritated that he couldn’t verbally communicate it. he was the one who annoyed people to the brink of insanity, with his cocky remarks and over-the-top, excitable behaviour. few people had ever tried to one up him, and even fewer were successful in managing to get under his skin.

zenin naoya, though, loved the challenge.

“do you think your dad will mind if we’re out here?” you asked tentatively. gojo’s hand reflexively tightened briefly around yours at the mention of his father, his jaw clenching. 

several minutes after gojo had led you inside the elegant infrastructure (to say you were getting imposter syndrome was an understatement), he’d left you by a confectionery stand in search of geto. according to him, you looked ‘too pretty’ and he didn’t want your dress to be ruined in the crowds. in other words, the less you mingled, the less likely you’d be harassed by his father’s rich peers – he’d already ‘accidentally’ knocked one drink over onto a woman who dared to hiss the word ‘gold digger’ under her breath as you passed.

it had to have been less than thirty seconds before the zenin appeared by your side, a sickening smirk on his twisted face. you knew who he was, you’d seen him once or twice around campus and you’d heard the stories, but you’d never been this close to him; not close enough to breath in the expensive cologne that smellt cheap.

“probably,” he clicked his tongue, tilting his head back to look up at the night sky.  “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have brought you here.”

you nudged his shoulder gently, “i wanted to come.”

a mistake on both of your behalf – though neither of you could have predicted that naoya would try and make a scene when you rejected his advances.

"you two alright?" 

both of you turned your heads back to see geto coming down the stairs towards you with a little skip in his step.

once naoya had your attention he wasted no time getting to his point – bigging up his status and telling you how gojo’s dad was doubting gojo’s position in the company. if you wanted a real man, in his words, you needed him. 

obviously, you’d given him a disgusted look without much thought and denied the offer, taking a step back to try and find your tall, white haired boyfriend in the crowd (an oddly difficult task). you figured you were safer weaving through a crowd of high society snobs than you were spending another minute here. naoya, though, was persistent and didn’t hesitate to pull you back towards him with a harsh grip.

"just trying not to bash that zen'in's skull in," gojo muttered as he gently traced the red marks on your wrist. it looked worse than it felt – the pain had dissipated pretty quickly once you’d broken from naoya’s hold.

"i could get on board with that," the dark haired male dropped down next to you on the stairs, stretching out his legs and smoothing down his pants.

"geto.” 

you figured out pretty quickly that gojo and geto were a package deal. best friends since diapers and equally as resentful to their parents’ ways of life and the pretence they’ve been raised in. two sides of the same coin, both of which willing to go extraordinary lengths for the other with no regard for consequences.

such as the jail time that would come with the aggravated assault of naoya.

though you would give it to geto – when gojo and him got to you and naoya, it was him who was ushering gojo to just take you outside, not to engage with the spoiled man child. 

“geto,” geto mocked you with a grin, shrugging carelessly, "the kid’s an ass. he’s got it coming."

there was no more than a second until geto spoke up again, with an idea you were sure he’d had from the beginning of the night, his plans had just been accelerated: “shoko’s house is free now. her parents are away so she wasn’t forced to attend this bullshit,”

gojo’s head perked up at this, looking above your head at his best friend, “you think she’ll have the stuff for a smoke?”

“it’s ieiri,” you said in a ‘duh’ tone because when was she not smoking something. how she was top of her classes, you’d never know.

“god bless that girl,” geto blew a kiss to the sky.

taglist. @hyori2 @ja-zz @animeflower26 @jar-03

#dynasty #rich boy!au #rich boy!gojo #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo drabbles #gojo fluff #gojo imagines

[izukuisbaby]

⊹˚.⋆ OUR FAVOURITE DILFS WITH A FAMOUS S/O - JUJUTSU KAISEN

℘. flora's notes : I've had this idea forever but I couldn't manage to write it UNTIL NOW. my idea was that reader is a model so it's kind of based on that, though you are free to be famous for whatever reason u want 💀

℘. send me a request ! : i would love to write this for other jjk characters (especially TOJI) but please give me ideas cuz i can't find anything :((

℘. gn, male, female reader 💓

m.list | comment and reblog if you enjoyed ! i am not posting at peek hours i would rly appreciate it if u could reblog w related tags 🥰

★ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

℘. he 100% stalked you on your socials and knew everything about you

℘. it's also very likely that he slid into your DMs shamelessly

℘. something cringe like : " what a pretty human in a pretty restaurant, we should go there together sometime 😏"

℘. but we all know this mf, he didn't stop at ONE DM

℘. no, his name is elegantly followed by "9+ messages" all of them being cringe pick up lines to beg you to go on a date with him 😍

℘. and you eventually agreed but it was mostly for him to leave you in peace

℘. he was convinced you'd fall for his charms and unfortunately, he was right... can't blame you I would too

℘. and since your first kiss - which was an officialization of your relationship to him - he would not shut up about it

℘. everytime y'all are out in public he makes it clear he's your boyfriend for the paparazzis

℘. gojo loves attention... so he LOVES paparazzis

℘. he thinks y'all are the most goal couple to exist and brags about it

℘. "y/n, can you imagine what other people must think of us : "the strongest and the most famous (your job of choice), they were meant to be"

℘. you have 100% your own ship name and fanpages, you're labeled as the "hot couple" who is edited on tik tok 24/7

℘. I don't think I insisted enough on how he BOASTS about dating you to whoever shows a spark of interest in his life

℘. the poor nanami hears about it every second of the day and is FED UP with it, but his last straw was when gojo was talking about you to a curse they were suppose to eliminate...

℘. he has you and him on a fun fair date as a wallpaper and purposely leaves his phone on during meetings so everyone can see he's dating you... and also to get yet another occasion to brag

⊹

★ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

℘. HE WOULD BE SO SUPPORTIVE

℘. he will attend all of your shows and interviews, always on the front row. sometimes walking for a show can be pretty stressful for you but seeing his angel face calms you down and gives you back your confidence in an instant <3

℘. ... he's very active on LinkedIn and he reposts your achievements/front pages with a professional yet sweet and admirative commentary

℘. he likes to go backstage before your shows so he can give you one last forehead kiss and compliment

℘. never hesitates to tell paparazzis to back off, he doesn't like his privacy invaded but he will gladly take pictures of you with a fan for them

℘. his favourite photo that he has everywhere is one a selfie you took before a show with a world renowned brand. you looked so stunning and confident, it never fails to make him smile when he looks at it

℘. i feel like he didn't really know you, just saw you from one or two front pages but it didn't click until you told him you were a (your job)

℘. i don't know why but i think you would have met on a dating app 😭 like nanami is tired of being single and he told gojo about it WHO OBVIOUSLY WAS KIN ON HELPING ! and he got to discover your personality first, which is the most precious part of you in his opinion

℘. because yes you ARE attractive but no one but him knows the part of you that is the most beautiful and he loves that

℘. i think he can't help but be a bit jealous that people simp over you so he would never refuse to take a cute picture for the world to see

℘. on your third date, he asked you to be his partner and gave you a ring as an officialization. since them, you've been wearing it as a lucky charm and you never take it off

© izukuisbaby. comments appreciated ! although do not modify, translate, copy, claim as your own or repost on any app/platform/social media (this applies to all of my content)

#jjk x reader #satoru gojo #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #nanami #nanami kento #kento #kento x reader #gojo smut #nanami smut #gojo headcanons #nanami headcanons #jjk gojo #jjk nanami #gojo satoru x reader #kento nanami x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #kento nanami x y/n #nanami x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader fluff #nanami x reader fluff #gojo satoru x you #nanami x you #nanami kento x you

[predestinatos]

inside me | CL16 ִ ۫ ּ 𓂅⋆ 🗝️.♡

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc × fem!reader 

summary: feelings aren't something charles and you talk about. especially not when you're tipsy in a club bathroom. chapter 3 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, more jealous!charles, i never get tired of writing it, smut, sexual content, cursing, some progress in vulnerability sort of? not much, angsty-ish but soft? ending.

word count: 5.4k

📎⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ minors dni !! warnings & note underneath

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), sort of rough sex, sexting, this is soo filthy, unprotected sex, creampie.

note: okay so! i got a bit carried away while writing this, clearly being so much bigger than usual, but it's to compensate for my 4-day absence which will surely delay the next chapter a bit!! thank you again so so so so!!!!! much for the good comments and support, it genuinely makes me very very happy. hope you like this one!

“Two more tequila shots, please” Oscar shouted to the bartender, the music muffling his voice and your thoughts.

The two glasses appeared before you, its content calling to your dizzy mind. Dropping the salt in your hand, you prepared for the countdown. Oscar looked flushed and giddy, already a bit tipsy, just like you. His cheeks were a soft pink and his eyes were constantly in a smiling expression, which spread itself to you. “A toast to a very good friendship” he said, laughing, as you clinked your cups against each other, licked the salt off of your hands, chugged the drink and placed lemon in your mouths.

Oscar and you had kept going out. You enjoyed each other’s company, talking to each other and overall just existing together. Of course, one of those nights you two had to have the talk you dreaded to have. Curiously, it was Oscar who started, his words spilling very fast and messily, although they could be condensed to a simple “I think we’re just friends.” You were totally okay with that. It simplified your life, and Oscar’s following proposal just made it even better. “That doesn’t mean we can’t… have fun together, though. If you’d like to.” And that was your relationship with him – purely a fun one, a jokingly flirtatious game where none of you had your hearts broken because there was nothing to break apart from a few glasses.

So, after many shots and funny faces at the taste were exchanged, here you were, dancing with him enthusiastically, your bodies jumping and touching and having fun.

You were surrounded by people you loved – Oscar, your friends, everybody at that club – and that loved each other in that moment. Your friends got along beautifully with Oscar, and you even saw some potential for deeper relationships with this one girl, so you were happy, insanely so. Except for one thing: the pair of eyes looking at you from you and your friends’ tables.

As much as you tried moving further away, enjoy yourself and drink away the burning hot sensation on the back of your head, you couldn’t. Charles’ gaze wouldn’t leave your body, filled with rhythm and loose, but contrastingly so tense from his eyes.

You knew Charles was coming. But you thought he would be calm about things, take them lightly and not care much, given the fact that you and him were in very weird territory. It was now hard to hide from your friends that something was going on – the snarky remarks had turned more like innuendos and inside jokes that made you blush, and there were only so many nights where, for some reason, only the two of you couldn’t make it. Apart from those two instances, your relationship with Charles hadn’t been physical again. Some texts were exchanged, sure, but neither of you knew what you were doing; you were ice skating on very thin grounds, which threatened to break at any given moment. It was a matter of who was going to take the hardest step.

“I’m pretty sure Leclerc is into you” Oscar started, laughing at something that wasn’t particularly funny were it not for the alcohol in your system. You laughed back, throwing your hands around his neck and letting your mind run through all the thoughts compressed in your head, all the sounds and sensations surrounding you. “You’re friends, why don’t you ask him?” you replied in his ear, hoping he would hear you, or maybe even guess what you were saying. Pulling away to look into his eyes, you saw him shaking his head in a negative motion, the tipsy smile in his pink lips “he would murder me if I even got remotely close to him.” You both bursted out laughing again, shrugging carelessly at the ridiculousness of it all. “No it’s just… he hasn’t stopped staring at us and I doubt it’s because he finds me attractive” the Australian continued, nodding his head towards where Charles was sitting. Unapologetically, you two stared at him, who also unapologetically refused to break eye contact. Holding a beer in his right hand, eyebrows furrowed and shirt sleever pulled up, he looked angry. Yet, he also looked attractive, his gaze dark and possessive, his left hand tense and his jeans hugging his legs perfectly. He raised his bottle towards the both of you as in a friendly excuse of a toast, or even recognition of your existence as something other than 2 nuisances. You nodded again in recognition, a peace treaty that was sure to be broken sooner than later.

As you turned around to keep dancing, you saw Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, amazement and amusement all at once. “What?” you asked, nervous. Before he could even answer, Charles was behind you, half yelling, half whispering, not to you, but to Oscar. “Can I borrow her for a second?”

In his drunkenness, but also his own enjoyment, he merely nodded gleefully, winking at you as Charles gripped your arm softly as if to assure you you were fine, or as fine as you could be in that moment.

The bathroom was tight. Very tight. Or maybe it was spacious but simply felt like it, when Charles was so close to you, his grip on your arm tight but not angry in the slightest. It also felt hot, burning and scalding, like being too close to the sun, yet you knew for sure they had AC and it was on. Releasing your arm, Charles pulled away from you only to lock the door of the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, laughing drunkenly at the stupidity of it all. “You’re gonna drive a lot of people mad by doing that” you tell him while fixing your hair as best as you could. You notice his body stiffening at your words and how they mockingly leave your lips, and even though he is currently not close to you at all, you still feel him on every inch of your skin when he lowers his voice and says “you’re driving me mad.”

Perhaps because you were drunk, you giggled ironically. Not only was the situation frustrating to the point of laughing, it was clear you had the upper hand in this case, with Charles’ voice and expression finally showcasing more vulnerability than usual. “And why is that, Charlie?” you ask, keeping the mocking tone that was getting to him even more this time. With the question, you dared to walk closer to him slowly, not taking your eyes off of his face. His jaw tightened and he looked away, his brain seemingly as loud as the muffled music outside. For a few seconds, you remained like that, in silence, your defiance and his stubbornness fighting quietly. Upon his clear refusal to answer, all you could do was shrug, “that’s what I thought.” You start walking towards the door, but his tall frame stops you before you can get to it. You are, again, so close to him, feeling his scent, alcohol and expensive perfume, but not his touch, for his hands remain by his side. “I’m not going to stop you from leaving if you want,” he started, his jaw tense as he licked his lips. “Then answer me” you demanded.

It wasn’t even that big of a question, you just wanted to hear him admit that he was jealous, even though he had no right to be. You wanted to see where this conversation would go, if you could finally put an end to this game you two were playing, as painful as it was for you to end it. You knew deep down the reason why he didn’t answer was because that meant exactly that – it meant talking about feelings, about rules, about labels. And neither of you were ready to do that. You realized then that you were placing on him the weight of it, cowardice filling you even in drunkenness.

Running a hand through his hair frustratedly, he moved his feet to let you move towards the door, unblocking your passage. You suddenly felt cold, his frame not hovering yours anymore, and that gesture held more vulnerability than any other he had ever done in the past. So, because you were slightly drunk, or maybe in spite of it, you pulled him towards you and kissed him.

His whole body relaxed against you, letting out a frustrated and hungry breath. By now, his hands and lips felt familiar yet new all at once. Your heart raced as if it was all novelty, yet you knew it wasn’t, for you had been craving them for so long. The way he was kissing was new, however. It always seemed to be, every time you two met again, for he seemed to place more and more feeling and less and less thought into his kiss, his lips moving against yours in a needy, almost desperate way, much different from the previous arrogance he possessed.

He let out a breathy whimper against your lips, and you realized then how completely yours he was. You pulled even closer against you, his shirt collar feeling hard contrasting with his soft hands on your body, wrapping your legs around his waist as he placed you on the sink. The coldness of the sink causes you to hiss and then laugh to yourself amidst the kiss, to which he too lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m serious, you do drive me mad” he suddenly said, bringing both of your thoughts back to that which you were trying to avoid. You looked down at the already visible bulge in his jeans, and your eyebrows raised before looking back up at him – “I can tell.”

Charles suddenly looked shy, not expecting your bluntness, and he looked away to compose himself. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on your leg softly, to which you responded by biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes at the feeling. “You really want to talk about that?” he replied to your previous comment, his cockiness coming back as fast as it had disappeared upon realizing how turned on he made you feel by simple touches.

Feeling brave, playful, or overall crazy, you grabbed his other hand and brought it to your lips. You kissed each of his fingers carefully, not hiding your pleasured face as you felt his gaze darken at the sight of you. His grip on your thigh suddenly intensified, this time as an attempt to calm himself down, though it was clear he couldn’t do so successfully. Charles was already going absolutely insane over the view he had, but then you brought his hand to your cheek and placed his thumb on your open mouth. He inhaled sharply, in lustful anticipation, before you closed your lips around him and sucked his finger while looking up at him. “F-fuck… don’t do this to me” he breathed, his head cocked to the side, both desperate and demanding. You took his finger off of your mouth to reply, leaving your mouth smeared with saliva that he spread across your lips as you muttered “why not?”

With the question, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you around, your back pressed hard against him, feeling his heartbeat racing and his cock against you. His hand flew to your hair, pulling it so you could see yourself in the mirror, as the other went back to the position it was before, thumb pushing forcefully inside your mouth. “Look at yourself. You look so fucking hot. You can’t do this to me, not when I’m so so mad at you” he whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your body, as he pushed himself against you harder, causing a moan to leave your lips. “What?” he mockingly asked, his eyes pierced on yours through the mirror, a dark smile spreading across his expression.

Everything Charles did hit you with a force a thousand times higher than anyone else. It was the years of accumulated tension that culminated in this incessant need for each other – and it didn’t seem to be fulfilled any time soon. So when Charles released his grip on your hair and removed his hand from your lips, you felt betrayed and disappointed, your underwear soaking wet but unsatisfied. “We’ve had enough fun for a night, you’re drunk” he said, tapping your shoulder carefully as if you were a child.

This sudden change in behavior managed to not only anger you, but also hurt you deeply. It felt like treason, of the highest sort – the way he suddenly seemed to care about your state actually, paradoxically, seemed like the meanest thing one could do in that situation.

“I was drunk the night in my house, too” you replied, your anger coming out of your voice and suffocating any attempts of the hurt from being noticeable. Charles merely closed him eyes softly, taking a deep breath. “We were both drunk. We were both impulsive” he said, opening his eyes and looking straight at you.

His words hit you like a punch in the stomach, making the music stop, at least in your ears, in your mind, in your body. You raised your eyebrows at him, and you wanted to scream, to yell at him, to hurt him back. And you knew the only way to do so was by doing the total opposite of what you felt like doing – “okay” – was the only word that escaped your lips as you made your way out of the bathroom, back into the noise, the drinks, the distractions.

You went home afterwards, your mind spinning and your body too exhausted to keep going. Oscar had dropped you off at home, already sober enough to drive (at least way more than you were), but not before listening to the whole story of What Is Going On Between You and Leclerc, his mouth hanging open during the whole journey. His goodbye was said through a kiss on the cheek and a “don’t show up to races with me anymore, I have to win!”, which made you laugh despite it all.

You now laid in bed, comfortable pyjamas on and too tired to take your makeup off despite the constant warnings from everyone that you should do so. You tried convincing yourself you’d do it later, knowing fully well the most probable scenario was you falling asleep just like that, but it didn’t matter. Your TV was on, something was playing in the background but you weren’t particularly watching it, for your head was still spinning.

The attention you weren’t paying at all was interrupted by your screen lighting up, which normally you would ignore, were it not for its content, and, more specifically, who had sent it.

Charles (Asshole): whre are you (3:12am) Charles (Asshole): cna we talk??? (3:12am)

You shouldn’t answer, in fact, you were tempted not to. However, his texts clearly revealed he was not sober in the slightest, and as much as you hated to admit it, you cared about him. Upon some minutes with your fingers hovering the keyboard on your screen, you replied.

You: home. pls call an uber (3:14am) Charles (Asshole): on my wya. i did. im not taht stupod (3:15am)

The wait seemed hours long. You sat there, before deciding to get some water for yourself, and also for him, who definitely needed it more than you did at this point. You checked how decent you looked in the mirror, and despite frowning a bit at the messy aspect of your comfortability, you decided it did not really matter given the state Charles appeared to be in.

Those suspicions were confirmed after a very badly typed “I’m outside” text, which you decoded well enough to open the door. You were greeted with Charles wearing a giddy smile, his eyes partly glossy and his cheeks red. He seemed unbelievably content, more than usual, and you knew it was because of the alcohol in his veins, his thoughts, his whole body. You stood aside to let him in, and without ceremony, he sprawled across your sofa. “Good memories in here” he started, his voice dragging, stumbling across some words, and finishing with silly giggles.

You merely rolled your eyes at him, despite how endearing he now appeared before you. Sitting next to him on the couch, you felt his head resting on your lap, which, surprisingly, did not ignite your need to protest. Instead, you instinctively caressed his hair, soothing him and yourself at the same time. He let soft murmurs escape his lips, and tried closing his eyes for brief moments. However, he quickly opened them, “God, it spins even more with my eyes closed” he said, bringing his hand to his brow.

“You should drink some water” you said, attentively. Charles looked up at you, his eyes shining with intoxicated passion, and his hand caressed your face softly. “You’re so pretty” was all he could say in reply to your suggestion, a reply which further confirmed the need for him to fulfill that task.

You carefully urged him to sit upright, which he did despite some protests, and brought the glass of water to his lips softly. You watched him gulp the liquid as it dribbled a bit from his chin towards his neck, and you shamefully looked away, images of other much different nights surfacing in your head.

You allowed yourself to look back upon hearing his satisfied “ah” and feeling the weight of the cup decreasing to its minimum. With this, you noticed his shirt unbuttoned, more than usual, and as he sat back, his chest almost fully exposed to you. Your eyebrows furrowed for a few seconds, and you bit hard, holding back whatever feeling was going through you, which you refused to name despite it all. He was drunk, you were not sober, you two had nothing, it was not the time.

You couldn’t help but make a comment though, “I see you didn’t let me ruin your fun” – you tried to joke, but it sounded more petty than you had intended. He looked towards his shirt, then back up at you, before letting out a loud laugh and running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, well, I wanted to take you off my mind. Clearly it didn’t work.”

There it was. The thin line you both didn’t want to cross. Frustratingly, the only times you were close to doing so had to be under the influence of alcohol, making it impossible to discern what is meant and what is blurted out. Because of this, you merely shrugged off a laugh, and remained in silence, looking down.

You felt and heard his body shifting closer to yours from behind, his hands making his way towards your shoulders and neck, massaging them softly. You let him, enjoying the feeling, needing it way more than you thought – either the massage itself or the simple feel of his touch, you couldn’t say. At first, his touch was light, almost hard to feel, like a soft breeze on your bare skin. However, slowly, his hands started applying more pressure, getting more greedy with their movements, as if consuming all of you.

His warm breath hit your neck and ears, the sensation causing your vision to completely blur. It impressed you, how despite being drunk, he seemed to know exactly what to do to push you to the edge. You turned your head back towards his and as is gaze fell on your lips, your heartbeat increased, signals travelling throughout your whole body.

Once again that night, you were aware of how you were the one who pulled Charles towards you, relieving him of the need he had for you like this – not merely with touches, but with a ravenous control and hunger, completely at his display. However, you pulled away, your mind stable enough to know what you were doing – if he already thought you drove him mad, he had no clue what was coming.

His confused expression met your suppressed smirk, and before he could protest, or at least question you, you spoke. “You’re drunk. Don’t want to be impulsive,” and with that, you got up and quickly went to your room, coming back with a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, which you threw on the sofa. “You can sleep here. Those are Oscar’s,” you were aware you didn’t have to say that, but at that point you realized there were no rules to this game anymore – everything counted. “Goodnight”

You turned away, leaving Charles processing what had happened in those minutes, how things shifted so fast. You felt satisfied with the control you had over him, the payback for what he had done, yet you couldn’t deny the frustration only increased as well. It took so much of you to pull away, to not give yourself up completely to him, especially when you knew how good he felt and how much he wanted you.

You sat in bed and turned on the TV once again, trying to drown the pulsating feeling in your core. It was hard to concentrate, knowing Charles was one door away, his warm body so ready to take you. The images running through your mind left you desperate, and you decided to take matters into your own hands – literally.

You slipped a hand down your stomach, inside your shorts, and touched yourself lightly through your underwear. You were embarrassingly wet, and so sensitive that as soon as your hand found its way between your legs, you left out a small moan. You knew it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, yet you brought the other hand to your mouth impulsively and timidly.

As if guessing, your phone lit up once again, with a couple of texts that left you speechless.

Charles (Asshole): im tryign my best not to go there adn ruin you (4:02am) Charles (Asshole):  but youre making it so hard fro me (4:02am)

You couldn’t move – at least, not anything but your hand, drowned between your legs, frantically moving in unconscious and needy desire. You simply stared at the text, biting your lip to prevent any noise from coming out of. As you stared at it, you saw the three dots that told you he was typing more. Your eyes flew to the door, as if you could see through it towards the living room, where Charles was lying, typing these messages to you. The thought of him behind that door got you lightheaded, feeling utterly drunk again.

Charles (Asshole): i know youore reading these (4:04am) Charles (Asshole): if you want me to, ill sotp (4:04am)

Upon that last text, which wasn’t a threat in the slightest but which you interpreted as such, given the urgency in which you needed him to continue, your hand flew to your phone, immediately typing a response.

You: dont stop (4:05am)

It was hard, typing with only one hand, the other occupied trying to replicate Charles’ own touch, and to make matters worse, you couldn’t think straight. Typing those simple words took more time than you cared to admit or wanted, and you knew he wasn’t dumb to not have realized that. That simple request you made boosted his confidence to reply in a manner that immediately hinted that he knew what to do, that he now felt like he had free reign.

Charles (Asshole): why not? (4:05am)

You couldn’t see him, yet you knew this question wasn’t innocent, you knew he was on the other side completely pleased with himself, a smile sprawled across his pink lips.

Charles (Asshole): asnwer me princess (4:06am)

The nickname, even when used to get under your skin – or maybe because of it – set you over the edge completely. You had been holding your composure for so long that this simple word made you whimper, this time loud enough to know he had heard it.

Charles (Asshole): fuck that was so hot (4:06am) Charles (Asshole): i want you so bad (4:07am)

You were now filled with ecstasy, your walls begging for him to fill you, your head swimming in overwhelming arousal. So, you decided to do what you were meant to do since you first placed your lips on his: keep playing.

You: prove it (4:08am) You: i dare you (4:08am)

That text was all it took for Charles to completely unleash himself, getting up from the sofa and moving towards your bedroom, opening the door with urgency, finding your body outlined by the television lights.

He had changed, somewhere in between your trip to your room and his first text, but only partially – he stood, shirtless, before you, standing at the feet of the bed as you looked up at him, your face leveling his waist area.

You licked your lips instinctively, and for a moment time stood still between him and you, his chest rising and falling deeply, his muscles tense with need. Charles broke that spell by placing his index finger carefully on your chin, raising your gaze towards his and stilling it there. You swallowed dry, lustfully. “Show me what you were doing before I came in” he demanded, roughly this time. In fact, his hand remained there, forbidding you from breaking eye contact, as you lifted your arm and brough it downward, back between your legs. “Were you thinking about me?” he asked, voice growing deeper, more imperious. You nodded, as best as you could with the pressure of his hand on your face, now carelessly holding all of you in it. “Use your words” Charles continued, his erection visible, directly in front of you, so desperate, so conflicting with how he seemed so composed and dominant. “Yes” you replied. Yet, this did not satisfy him in the slightest. His grip on you tightened, and a tsk escaped his lips as he shook his head negatively.

Your hand started moving faster, one finger now dipping inside you, which Charles did not fail to notice, but pretended to be unaffected by. Without warning, he pulled down his sweatpants, followed by his boxers, just enough to expose his erection fully to you. Letting go of your face with violent affection, he now gripped your hair as he held his cock in front of you. “Let’s give those pretty lips some other use since you don’t want to talk” he whispered, his tip now caressing your lips. “Open, princess” his tone was commanding, completely new yet so dangerously arousing. You promptly obeyed, shocked yet completely vulnerable before his own desire.

At first, Charles merely played with you, frustrating your desire to have him in his mouth, despite the fact that it frustrated him in the process as well. His grip on your hair got tighter and tighter, as this teasing game was clearly driving him insane. In a swift and quick movement, he placed himself fully inside your mouth, the warmth and wetness causing his body to shudder completely. You swallowed around him, feeling his desperate push to take more of him in. As you removed your hand from in between your legs to hold yourself on his thighs for support, he grabbed it, bringing it back to where it was. “Don’t fucking stop” he growled, almost incoherently. Having him fully inside your mouth, your nose so close to his navel, and hearing his authoritarian tone, caused a cry to escape your lips. You could barely think, let alone speak, now two fingers buried inside your wetness.

Charles movements were rough as he fucked your mouth relentlessly, your name leaving his lips as if in a chant, as you kept holding his gaze. “Tu es tellement doué pour ça, putain” French once again escaping his lips, giving away his lack of self control, as he unleashed himself completely to his desire. You couldn’t help but moan, your eyes teary with the pleasurable strength he was using with you, and you felt yourself close to coming.

Charles himself was close, but did not allow himself – nor you – to continue. Pulling out of you quickly, leaving saliva all over your now darkened and swollen lips, he did not hesitate to push you down on your bed, climbing on top of your body.

Impatiently, he pulled your pajama shorts and underwear off, whilst you pulled your shirt above your head, completely bared to him. Harshly and lusciously, Charles slammed two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out to prepare you for him. “So ready for me, fuck” he whispered, more to himself than for you, yet not caring if you heard it.

His already sweaty body shone in the near darkness of the room, satisfaction spread across his focused expression as he saw how your body yearned for his. Removing his fingers from inside you and placing himself between your legs, he pushed in inside you, his hardness filling you up completely. Your back arched instantly with bliss as your legs wrapped around him in an attempt to feel him even closer, as if such was possible. You were trembling from his scent, his breath and the sounds of your bodies on each other. His movements were fervorous and electric, a fast pace which burnt your vision and set your body aflame.

“Charles” your voice begged, as he continued his movements. Your voice worked on him as a reminder of how mad he was when it came to you, how much he needed to take his desire out on you, his jealousy released with each thrust. “Does anyone fuck you as good as me?” he asked, eyes closing slowly from the amount of pleasure he was feeling. You let out a crying “no” as he grunted, his face now buried in your neck, biting it hard.

A crazy thought crossed his mind, one which was more common than he could admit, one that he thought about frequently in the darkness of his room or even when he was trying to distract himself with anyone else – the thought of filling you up, claiming you as his. This was enough for him to be close, as your moans filled the thick air, and he felt so good inside you, enough to feel intoxicated by it.

“You’re mine” Charles let out, incapable of containing himself. His words caused your whole body to convulse with shockwaves of pleasure as you repeated “I’m yours” into his lips, his neck, your nails drawing patterns on his back. His hisses of pain and pleasure revealed how close he was himself, and he positioned himself in order to be able to look at your satisfied and sensitive expression of complete bliss. Charles erupted inside you with a final thrust that made you see fireworks, as the thickness of the air reached an all time high.

After a few seconds of chests rising and falling, breaths being caught and thoughts becoming clearer, Charles pulled himself out of you and laid next to you in your bed, grabbing the remote as he caressed your arm softly.

That movement, the familiarity and comfort of it, how different it was from the uncertainty of what you two were, to the nature of your ‘relationship’, to you still filled with his cum, suddenly made you want to cry.

You wished he would leave, complete the final act so you can repeat it soon, so things didn’t get complicated, complex and hard for you to do anything about. The frustration was enough for you to get up with a “I’m going to take a bath” in a tone he recognized – somehow – as unlike you.

Getting up from his seat, he followed you into the bathroom, where you stepped into the shower and turned the water on, ignoring his presence completely. You kept focusing on the water running down your body, how it resembled his own touch but not as fulfilling, as pleasurable. The sound of the water running incessantly calmed your thoughts, enough so that you could barely hear him come in the shower himself, turning you around so you could face him.

His expression was tender but nervous, aware of something floating along with the vapor of the warm water, fogging the mirror. Yet, he pulled him to you in an embrace in which you two remained for long, longer than maybe it was supposed to, longer than for it to be considered normal. Pulling away, his lips fell onto yours gently, in a kiss that possessed more words than both of you cared to admit.

You knew, then, that was all he could give you in that moment. And you did not know how to feel about that.

@cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

#charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 fandom #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1blr #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Tear stained pillow case

Pairings- Drew Starkey x Fem!reader

Summary- reader is in a long distance relationship with Drew and the constant shipping of him with his cast mate (Odessa) and hate get to her.

Warnings- Angst, yelling, swearing, a smidge of domestic abuse, cheating.

A/n: to the anon who requested a sad Drew fic, I’m sorry this isn’t the best. I hope I kind of got what you were looking for but I need to work on my angst! Please send me a message when you read this xxx

“YOU, you can’t keep going on like this?!” You shouted; anger bled through your veins. You felt sick, the bile rising in your throat. “You’ve got to be fucking joking me!”.

The nerve of your boyfriend, he spends months away from home. Spends every waking minute with his co-star Odessa, he kisses his co-star off screen and he’s the one who can’t keep going on?!

“Yes Y/N” Drew begins to argue, you cut him off by throwing his pillow at him. He doesn't even flinch, his face screwed up in anger. “No Drew, I’m not fucking done” you yell, you look crazy.

You look like the crazy jealous girlfriend his fans had painted you out to be, and you had every right to be.

“You don’t get to put this shit on me Drew, YOU KISSED HER!”.

-Previously-

You couldn’t take it anymore; his face was all over your FYP. You were stupid enough to create a TikTok account, scrolling endlessly and searching the tags for your boyfriend Drew.

You knew what you would see, thirst traps and edits of him and his cast mate Odessa. Edits of the sex scenes they had to film, everyone shipping them together. You were trying to make yourself hurt, you sat there reading the comments. Reading the hateful things they said about you, the words cutting you like tiny knives.

Ugly

Not good enough for Drew

She’s not even famous

Fat

You were ugly crying at this point, unsure why you put yourself through the pain day in day out. Drew had told you a handful of times not to go searching for these things, to pretend like the fans didn’t exist.

But how could he expect you to pretend? He was famous and there was no hiding it. He had been away for 3 months now; you had a routine of face timing every night around 6pm, but tonight was different. He had an event. An event with Odessa.

“GOD Y/N! What are you doing?!” You shouted, staring up at the ceiling. You roughly rubbed your face, your mascara smearing under your eyes. The tears didn’t stop falling down your cheeks. “STOP!” You ordered yourself, but it only made it worse.

Hyperventilating at this stage, gripping the blankets under you. Pressing your face into the white pillowcase, you were pathetic. A pathetic mess. You were so glad Drew was 12 hours away, there was no chance he’d walk through the doors and see you right now.

You hated that you were being so jealous, you knew he loved you. He adored you. Whenever someone tries to hint at him and Odessa in interviews, he always mentions you, you’re all over his Instagram.

You had never met Odessa; you never had the opportunity to. You did think that meeting her might make you feel less jealous, seeing how they act together in person and not from stupid TikTok clips that were edited purely to make people think they were together.

Your phone ringing cuts your crying short, you sit up quickly and reached for your phone. Seeing his face flash on the screen had you nervous, your skin clammy and heart racing.

You wiped away as much mascara as possible and dimmed the bedside lamp, pressing answer on the screen. His smile appearing on your screen moments later, he was in dark room with a small yellow overhead light.

“Hi baby” he grinned; you could see the glimmer in his eyes. You wanted to burst out crying again but instead you dig your fingernails in your thigh and gave him a fake smile. “Hey baby” you whispered, worried your voice would be husky from all the screaming and crying.

“Why is it so dark?” He questioned, his eyes darting around the screen as though he was trying to look over your shoulder. You shrugged and moved to lay on your stomach. “Going to bed early” your voice cracked, and you quickly hid it behind a cough, you could see a shift in his face.

“What’s wrong babe?” He questions, his eyebrows crease together. He looks over his phone for a second and mouths ‘hold on’ and his eyes dart back to you on the screen. “Nothing, I’m okay. You need to go babe, we can talk later” you smile, brushing him off, you wanted to go back to your sob fess.

“Your lying” he states, his features have hardened. You know he doesn’t like it when you keep things from him, he likes you to be open about your feelings. But right now, you didn’t have the energy to discuss why you were spending your Saturday night crying in bed at 6pm.

“Babe, we can talk about it when your home” “No, tell me now”

“Drew!” His eyes dart over his phone again and he lets out an exasperated sigh, he runs his hand over his face and squeezes the bridge of him nose.

It’s as though you can see the tension building in his shoulder blades, you so badly wanted to be there to offer him comfort. You wanted to be the one to rub his shoulders and whisper ‘you got this’

“Okay, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow”.

He ends the call without an I love you, that just sets you off again and you spend the next 2 hours crying your eyes out until you pass out against his pillow.

—-

When you awaken the next morning, you’ve rolled over onto Drew’s side of the bed. Squeezing his pillow tightly against your body. Breathing in his scent that barely lingered anymore.

“Such a loser” you mumble to yourself; you reach for your phone that’s hidden under the blankets.

No notifications

You let out a defeated sigh and make yourself get ready for the day; you had planned to clean the apartment. Drew would be home in a few days, and you wanted him to come home to some normality.

And that’s exactly how you spent your Sunday, cleaning and staying off your phone. It was much harder to do the latter, you were itching to call Drew.

You usually sent texts back and forth every day, sent a couple of pics and just tried not to go crazy without one another. You had hoped listening to music and keeping you busy would stop the incessant thoughts that were flying around your head.

But you found yourself battling with your thoughts more than listening to the music. By the time nightfall came you had scrubbed every corner of the apartment. You had lit a candle in the living room and taken a seat when your phone lit up, the music travelling through the empty room.

You answer, plastering a smile on your face. He gives you a soft smile, he’s dressed in a green button up. The button up you had brought him for his birthday, you loved that colour oh him.

“Hey babe” you both say at the same time, letting out a chuckle at the two of you being awkward around each other. “How are you?” You ask, eyes flickering around the screen.

You can’t see much from where he is sat, you can hear voices and assume he’s just got back from the poguelandia event. You don’t even realise he hasn’t answered, too focused on who’s voice you can hear so close to the phone.

That’s when you look back at him, he’s not even looking at the phone. He’s looking over it again, mourning something and rolling his eyes.

“Why are you acting strange?”

“I’m not?”

“Okay.. why do you keep looking over the phone?”

“Oh, just watching something”

I’m that moment you knew something was going on, Drew always gave you his undivided attention even when he was mad. You didn’t like this, it made you feel sick again.

You were so sick of feeling unwell and anxious. “I’m going to bed”

Drew nods his head and finally looks at you, you press the end call button. You didn’t want to look at his face, you didn’t want to hear his voice. You wouldn’t be able to handle not hearing I love you back. It was easier this way.

You don’t know why you do it, but you don’t go to bed. Instead, you go searching on tiktok again. And that’s where you see it, the videos from poguelandia.

How close he and Odessa are, the way she dances with him. The whispering, the walking close together. You knew it, you just needed confirmation. He liked her, he didn’t want to be with you anymore and that’s why he’s distancing himself.

The tears don’t come though, your body seems to go into denial. Your stomach still unsettled, and your mouth feels dry but you place your phone on the counter and stare at the wall.

- 2 days dater -

“Hey, babe” you’re aroused from sleep, somebody shaking your arms. You jump, gripping the blankets around your chest. “Oh, it’s you”.

“Don’t seem so happy to see me?”

You don’t answer him, instead you stare at him. He takes a seat at the edge of the bed; he smells like the cologne you had brought him for his birthday.

He showered and is dressed in jeans and an oversized white shirt, hair a little messy since he’s growing it out for a project. “I missed you” Drew smiles, it’s a fake smile. You can tell them apart now.

He moves to give you a kiss, but you press your palm to his shoulder, giving your head a small shake.

You’re not dressed for an argument, so you pull yourself to stand and grab an oversized shirt. Not really sure if it’s one of yours or Drew’s but it really didn’t matter at the time.

“What’s wrong babe?” He questions, pulling himself to stand. He towers over you, making you feel small. The tough exterior you had been working on, crumbling slowly.

“Stop calling me babe... just, tell me the truth Drew”.

You don’t even need to clarify what you’re talking about; he runs a palm down his face. He begins to pace the bedroom floor; you had hoped he would deny it.

“I knew it”.

“It was a kiss” Drew states, your heart breaks. You feel as though you can physically hear the cracking of your heart, the bile rises in your throat and the tears pierce your tear ducts begging to be released.

“W-what?” You whisper, your voice wobbles. Your hands shaking as you move to hold yourself against the desk chair. You needed stability or you’d fall to your knees.

“I kissed Odessa, the night of poguelandia”

Your nails carve deep crescent moons into the wooden chair, your chest rising and falling heavier as you try to calm yourself down.

You can’t let yourself fall apart in front of him, he didn’t deserve to see you crumble.

“What the fuck Drew?” You yell, but your voice cracks and you slam your palm over your mouth to stop the hysterics from starting.

Turning your body so you’re not looking at him as the tears cascade down the apples of your cheeks, biting harshly on the skin of your lip. The familiar metallic taste fill your senses.

“It meant nothing”

“FUCK OFF with it meant nothing, why did you do it then?!”

This just seems to set him off, igniting something inside of him that he’s been holding onto for a long time. He’s stepping towards you and you’re taking steps back.

You’re back meeting the wall as he towers over you once more, making you feel smaller than you were. “Because Y/N, you’ve been acting weird. You’ve been distant and quiet; you’ve been making me feel bad for having a career”.

His voice is low and threatening, his hand hits at the wall behind you. You push on his chest, making him stumble back slightly.

“No Drew, I would NEVER make you feel bad for your career choice. However, I would distance myself so that I wasn’t sitting at home crying over you every night, missing you. Wishing I was with you, do you know how hard it is for me?!” You cry, you poke at his chest with your pointer finger. His larger hand grabbing yours to stop you from doing it.

You fight against him until he drops your hand, and you step away from him, your cheeks burnt red with frustration.

“How hard you’ve got it? What about me Y/N? Why is it always about you? I’m the one having to leave, do you know how hard that is on me?”

You shake your head, of course he was turning this all back around to the two of your issues. Acting as though kissing Odessa was okay, that it was just something he needed to do to forget about the issue at home.

“Don’t, don’t bring up all this. You kissed another woman; this is on you. Yea we have problems, every couple does. Yeah, we all have it hard, doesn’t make it okay for you to kiss your co-star” you shout.

You grab your phone; you don’t know why you want to add fuel to the fire. You’re on tiktok before you can rationalise with your brain, the second you’re on the app. The videos are there waiting.

“You see the shit that I have to deal with, go on, watch it”.

You throw the phone across the bed, his eyes falling to the screen of the iPhone. The video loops over the two of them dancing and whispering at the event, you can see him swallow harshly.

“This is a fan editing videos- “Drew begins to argue, and you let out a grunt of frustration, running your hands through your messy bed head.

“I can’t keep going on like this”

“YOU, you can’t keep going on like this?!” You shouted; anger bled through your veins. You felt sick, the bile rising in your throat. “You’ve got to be fucking joking me!”.

The nerve of your boyfriend, he spends months away from home. Spends every waking minute with his co-star Odessa, he kisses his co-star off screen and he’s the one who can’t keep going on?!

“Yes Y/N” Drew begins to argue, you cut him off by throwing his pillow at him. He doesn't even flinch, his face screwed up in anger. “No Drew, I’m not fucking done” you yell, you look crazy.

You knew you looked like the crazy jealous girlfriend his fans had painted you out to be, and you had every right to be. Your boyfriend of three years had kissed someone who wasn’t you and it wasn’t for a movie.

“You don’t get to put this shit on me Drew, YOU KISSED HER!” You cry, you can’t stop the tears now. You’re hyperventilating again, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes.

He’s stepping around the bed and pulling you against his chest, you want to fight against him. You want to tell him to get out of the apartment.

But you also want to beg him to stay, beg him to stop seeing Odessa. Beg him to start fresh with you, move on and be happy.

“This is the end, isn’t it?” He questions, you pull away from him slightly. Mascara pooling in your lower lashes, you probably should have washed that off before you went to bed.

“It has to be” you breath, tears begin to fall from his own eyes. This only makes you hysterical, sobbing into his chest as he holds you tighter. You don’t even want him to let go.

“I’ll always love you Y/N, I’ll always think about you when I walk past a bookstore or see those fancy chocolate donuts in the bakery down town” he whispers, his lips are pressed against your hair. His grip is tight around your body, he doesn’t want to let go either.

“I was lucky enough to love you, I’ll always remember that” You whisper, tears fall harder as you look at one another.

“Oh.. if we are doing the right thing, why does it hurt so much?”

“I don’t know”

His thumb wipes away the tears on your cheek, pressing his forehead to yours. You let him kiss you one last time. His lips are soft, and they feel like they always do, they were made for you.

“I should go... I’m so sorry Y/N, truly so sorry”.

You watch him leave, you wait for the front door to close and that’s when you let yourself fall. Knees meeting the hardwood floor, the draft from under the bedroom door kiss your toes. You let out a gut-wrenching sob, praying he would come back and fight.

Taglist- @novxturient @kookypogue111

Part 2

#drew starkey angst #drew starkey #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x y/n #outerbanks angst #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks cast #outerbanks drew

[m00nsbaby]

Already over.

Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.

Word count. 3.4k

Summary.

We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.

It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.

You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.

Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.

The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.

You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.

It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.

The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.

"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.

"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.

You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.

Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.

Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.

"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.

You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.

The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.

"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.

He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.

You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.

"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.

"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.

"It's a fraud."

"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.

"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."

Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.

"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."

Ah. That.

That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.

"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.

How much longer could you go on like this?

After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.

"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.

"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.

You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.

The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.

"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.

"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.

"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Steven."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.

The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.

Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.

"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.

He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.

The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.

Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.

"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.

"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."

You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.

"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.

"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.

He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.

He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.

You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.

"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.

Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.

You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.

When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.

"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted today."

"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.

"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.

Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.

"Can we talk?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.

Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.

"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."

Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.

"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.

"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.

"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.

Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.

"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.

You were all he had, and he was all you had.

Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.

"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.

"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"

"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.

"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.

You gasped.

"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.

There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.

"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.

He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.

Love at first sight.

"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."

You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.

You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.

After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.

"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.

The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.

"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."

"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."

"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.

"She knows."

Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Ah?"

"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.

"Knows what?"

"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.

Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.

You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.

"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"

"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.

"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.

"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."

Ouch.

"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.

And maybe, not lose Marc either.

"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.

"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.

He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.

"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.

"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"

A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.

"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."

And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.

His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.

"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?

You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.

This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.

You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.

sorry, i got tired of happy endings

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x you #moon knight #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #moon boys #moon boys x you #moon boys x reader #moon system #moon system x reader #moon system x you #marvel #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you

[threewaywithdelusion]

You Me Her

Since AO3 is down and I'm sure people are losing their minds looking for fics (I am people), I'm posting some of my fics over here. If you look in the tag "Mia writes fanfic" you can see all the fic I've posted on tumblr. If you prefer to read on AO3 now that it’s back up, you can find this fic here

Robin was the first person to notice something was wrong with Steve Harrington. 

By the end of the day, everyone had noticed. People were whispering up and down the halls, wondering what had happened to Steve since yesterday to make him act so drastically different. He hadn’t flirted with a single girl all day. He’d told Tommy Hagan to “knock it off” when Tommy had started tormenting a freshman. He’d treated his friends weirdly – avoiding Jason Carver, a sophomore on the basketball team who he’d been training, losing patience with Carol Perkins’s snappish remarks, freezing up when some cheerleaders talked to him. 

Robin heard all of this second-hand. King Steve was so notorious that even the band kids were gossiping about his personality transplant. Multiple people came up to Robin to share some tidbit of gossip that they insisted proved that Steve had been body-snatched. 

But Robin didn’t need rumors to know that Steve Harrington was different. She’d known since first period, when he’d walked into Ms. Click’s class on time and without a bagel. Steve had barely glanced at Tammy, even as she’d looked at him from under her lashes, beautiful and enticing. Instead, Steve had, for the first time in his entire life, looked at Robin. 

And he’d smiled at her. Not a polite acknowledgement of her existence – which still would have been more than Robin had ever gotten from him – but a huge, friendly smile. The kind that would have had most girls falling at his feet. 

Robin glanced behind her to see if Steve was smiling at someone else, but unless Steve was smiling like that at Fred Benson – even more unlikely – he was definitely directing that expression at her. 

Robin spun back to Steve, unsure what her face was communicating. Confusion, maybe, or wide-eyed shock. 

Steve didn’t look offended or surprised by her reaction, just gave her a dorky little wave and sat down. 

Robin stared at the back of his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Tammy turned to Robin, scanning her up and down. Robin knew she was just trying to figure out what about Robin had caught King Steve’s interest, but her scrutiny made Robin feel all hot anyway. It was Tammy, looking at Robin intently. With purpose. Taking in Robin’s stupid perm and her smudgy makeup and her layers of jewelry. 

Robin blushed. 

Tammy turned back around. 

Ms. Click began talking, but Robin didn’t hear a single word for the rest of class, lost in thought. She alternated between loud mental screaming about the fact that Tammy had looked at her and staring at Steve Harrington’s famous hair and wondering what the hell had inspired him to notice her existence. 

Robin was packing in a daze at the end of class when Steve gave her another smile before leaving. Robin accidentally met Tammy’s eyes, which were just as confused as Robin felt. 

Tammy bit her lip, which was pink and soft-looking. “Robin? Did you talk to Steve over the weekend?”

Oh my god. Tammy was talking to her. It wasn’t like Tammy never talked to her, but every single time it made Robin lose her mind and babble like a freak. 

Robin just shook her head instead of risking opening her mouth. 

“Oh,” Tammy said, looking disappointed. “But you like him?”

“No,” Robin said honestly. “I don’t even know him.”

“But you like him,” Tammy said, and this time it wasn’t a question. “I saw you blushing after he smiled at you.”

“I guess so,” Robin said. What else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Tammy that she didn’t give a damn if Steve Harrington looked at her and that the blush had been all for Tammy. That would send Tammy running the other way.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tammy said. “A lot of girls like Steve.”

She didn’t mention that she was one of those girls, but she didn’t need to. Robin knew. 

Maybe it would be okay to pretend to like Steve. It would give her and Tammy something in common and it would help her hide in plain sight. Steve was the perfect fake crush for a lesbian, pretty and athletic enough to be an acceptable crush, but unattainable enough that she would never have to act on it. Robin had never faked a crush on him before because of the principle of the thing, but now that she’d accidentally already done it, she might as well keep up the pretense. 

“Today must have been a fluke,” Robin told Tammy, trying to sound both reassuring and lovelorn. She didn’t want Tammy to see her as a threat. She wanted her to see her as a friend. “I don’t think Steve even knows my name.”

***

But Steve kept smiling at her for the rest of the week and on Thursday, Tammy asked Robin if she wanted to hang out after school. 

“Really?” Robin asked. Then, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

So Robin went to Tammy’s house with the rest of Tammy’s friends. Apparently they did this every Thursday — Friday and Saturday were date nights, which made Thursday the perfect girls’ night. 

They went up to Tammy’s room, which was like peeking into her mind. The other girls paid no attention to the room, probably having seen it a million times. They settled on the floor, spreading bowls of chips and chocolates around and pulling out magazines and nail polish. But Robin couldn’t help but try to take in every detail of the room. The walls were pink and the curtains and bedspread a gauzy white, giving everything a bit of a princess feel. But there were posters on the wall, and not the kind Robin had expected. There weren’t handsome movie stars — these were girls with guitars. 

“Who’s that?” Robin asked, pointing at a poster of a girl with long straight hair, standing over a microphone and holding a guitar. 

Tammy twisted to see who Robin was pointing to. “That’s Emmylou Harris. She’s incredible. She was one of the first women to really make it big in country music.”

“So you want to be like her?” Robin asked. 

Tammy blushed a little, playing with the end of her long blonde curls. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m as good as Emmylou Harris. But that’s the dream.”

“You’re really good,” Robin said sincerely. “I heard you singing Kiss On My List before class the other day and it was-“ captivating. life-changing. beautiful. “Really good,” Robin finished lamely. 

“Thank you,” Tammy said, looking touched. 

One of Tammy’s friends — Olivia? — rolled her eyes. “Tam, we didn’t invite Robin here to talk about your singing. We want to hear about Steve Harrington!”

The two other girls — Karen and Melissa — giggled and nodded their agreement. 

“What did you do to get his attention?” Olivia asked Robin. 

Robin tried not to obviously deflate. She wanted to talk to Tammy about her passions, see the way Tammy lit up when she smiled. She didn’t want to gossip about stupid boys, especially not Steve Harrington. 

But that was why they’d invited her over. Her fake crush on Steve was her in with these girls, with Tammy, and she had to make them believe her if she wanted to be invited to spend more time with him. 

“I don’t know,” Robin said honestly. “I’ve sat behind him all year and I didn’t think he knew I existed. And then all of a sudden on Monday — bam! — he’s acting like he knows me.”

Melissa hummed, passing around bottles of nail polish. “Maybe it’s your hair? Did you perm it recently? Cause Heather Holloway says Steve has a thing for girls with curly hair.”

Tammy frowned at her own hair and shook her head. “Robin’s hair has been like that all year.”

Tammy had watched Robin closely enough to notice what she did with her hair? Robin bit down on a smile, grabbing blue nail polish from Melissa. 

“Did you go to the party last weekend?” Karen asked. 

Robin shook her head. She’s actually spend last weekend reading a book, listening to her language tapes, and playing board games with her parents. Nothing that could be remotely considered cool. 

“Did you look particularly pretty on Monday?” Olivia asked. 

Robin shrugged. “I think I just looked how I always do.”

Tammy put on a Kris Kristofferson record then sat down beside Robin again. “I guess we’ll just have to watch what he does in class. Collect more information.”

“I guess so,” Robin said, hoping Steve forgot her existence soon for her own sake. She didn’t know what she would do if he actually asked her out. 

But maybe if he kept giving her attention she could keep this new friendship with Tammy, at least for a little while. 

Robin sighed, loud and long. 

“Don’t worry,” Tammy said, “We’ll figure it out.”

“And you don’t… mind?” Robin asked. “I know you like him too. I don’t want to break girl code or something.”

Robin had never worried about breaking girl code before, for obvious reasons, but she’d seen girls fall out over liking the same guy. 

Olivia snorted. “Please. Girl code doesn’t count when it comes to Steve Harrington. He’s slept with half the school.”

“Yeah, everyone knows he’s just a good time,” Karen added. “He doesn’t actually date girls for real.”

“I went out with him for two weeks in middle school,” Melissa said. “We made it to second base and then he dumped me for Erica Tanner.”

“You’re in good company here,” Olivia promised. 

Tammy still hadn’t spoken. Tammy was  focused on painting her nails bright pink, a color Robin would never choose for herself but that perfectly matched with Tammy’s pink cheeks and pink lips, which she was biting. 

Because Tammy cared, Robin realized. Steve might be the school slut, and he might never date a girl seriously, but Tammy liked him for real. 

Melissa, Olivia, and Karen were now arguing over whether Melissa’s two-week fling with Steve Harrington counted as a relationship. They seemed sufficiently distracted, so Robin dropped her voice low and leaned into Tammy’s space. 

“Do you mind?” she asked Tammy. “Because I can back off.”

“No,” Tammy said, smile pretty and entirely a lie. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Robin didn’t know what to do with that. Was Tammy trying to save face by not admitting she had a real crush on Steve Harrington? Was this her way of testing if Robin was worthy friend-material? How was Steve fucking Harrington Robin’s key to getting to know Tammy and also the one who was mostly likely to ruin this new friendship?

“Okay,” Robin said, staring at her nails so she wouldn’t have to figure out what facial expression was appropriate. She cleared her throat. “So you were telling me about Emmylou Harris?”

***

Steve Harrington came up to Robin at her locker on Friday, when she was getting the books she needed to take home for the weekend. 

“Hey,” he said, like it wasn’t supremely weird that he was approaching Robin Buckley, band geek and wallflower and no one who ever should have caught his eye. 

“Hi?” Robin answered. 

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go to the diner with me? We could get milkshakes.”

Robin stared at him. Was this a joke? A prank? Had one of his friends dared him to ask out the weird band kid?

“What?” Robin asked. 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He looked nervous, which was crazy. He was Steve Harrington and she was just Robin Buckley. 

“I can drive us,” Steve said. “And I’ll pay.”

“I’m not going on a date with you,” Robin said. It was a gut reaction, but a second later Robin couldn’t help but wonder if she should have said yes. What was she going to tell Tammy about why she’d turned down her supposed crush?

But why was Steve Harrington even asking her out in the first place?

Steve didn’t look offended at her rejection, but he did hurry to say, “I know. I didn’t mean as a date.”

Robin looked down the hall. A group of cheerleaders at one end was watching them, giggling and tittering. Had the cheerleaders put him up to this? Girls could be vicious, but trying to embarrass a girl by having a boy ask her out seemed like a more guy type of prank somehow. 

“You want to hang out with me just as friends,” Robin said skeptically. 

“Yeah,” Steve said. 

Robin rolled her eyes. “Right. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I mean it,” Steve said. “I want to be friends.”

He was lying. Robin didn’t know why, but he was lying. Maybe he thought that if she hung out with him as “friends” she would eventually change her mind and agree to date him. 

“Why?” Robin demanded. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Steve opened his mouth, then paused. He thought for a few seconds before he said, “You seem cool.”

Robin snorted. “I’m the furthest thing from cool.”

“No, I know,” Steve said. “I mean you seem… interesting. Nice. Fun.”

“You don’t even know me,” Robin said. “We’ve never spoken, and now all of a sudden you’re interested in me? I don’t buy it.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. He jumped as a hand landed on his arm and then Carol Perkins was there, staring Robin down with disdain in her eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Carol asked. 

“I was asking Robin to milkshakes,” Steve said. 

Carol gave Robin an up-and-down and it didn’t feel good like when Tammy had done it. Carol wasn’t admiring her. She was looking at Robin like gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. 

“Are you that bored of going out with pretty girls?” Carol asked, voice all fake-interested like it was a real question. 

Steve scowled, shaking Carol’s hand off his arm. “Robin’s pretty.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “She’s not terrible, I guess, under that bad perm, but she dresses like a dyke. If you want to rebel and date a freak or a charity case, you can do better.”

Robin flinched violently when Carol said the word dyke. She fought to keep her expression straight even as her heart raced and her lungs constricted. 

Did Carol Perkins know? Or had she blindly thrown out an insult, hoping it would hurt?

“Don’t call her that,” Steve snapped, his face dark and furious. He looked frightening enough that Robin skittered back half a step. 

Carol didn’t look scared of Steve, but her mouth did drop open in shock. 

That was fair. Robin was shocked too. 

Was Steve defending her?

Maybe this was what it meant to be a girl Steve Harrington liked. Maybe he didn’t like Carol calling Robin a dyke because that was an offense to his own masculinity. That was the only thing that made sense. Robin had heard Steve throw around gay slurs just last week, so it couldn’t be the word itself that he had a problem with.

“Seriously, Steve?” Carol asked, haughty and judgmental. “You can’t actually like her.”

“Robin is great,” Steve insisted. 

Carol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll remind you of this when you come to your senses.”

With that, Carol spun on her heels – red hair smacking Steve in the face – and walked away.

Steve’s posture loosened, like he had also perceived Carol as a threat. 

“I’m sorry,” he told Robin, looking sincere and apologetic. 

Robin hated him. 

“Stay the fuck away from me” Robin told Steve. 

She slammed her locker and walked away, clutching her books to her chest to hide her shaking hands. She kept her head up as she walked by the cheerleaders, who laughed loudly as she passed. 

***

Steve kept smiling at her whenever he walked into Click’s class, but he didn’t try to ask her out again. 

He looked a bit like a kicked puppy every time she glared back at him, but Robin didn’t care. 

“What are you doing?” Tammy asked one day after class. “He’s going to give up on you if you keep glaring at him like that.”

“He asked me out as a joke,” Robin told Tammy. 

Tammy frowned. “Are you sure it was a joke? I don’t think he would do that.”

“I’m sure,” Robin said darkly, thinking of Carol hovering and the cheerleaders watching. Did Steve believe what Carol had said? Was that the joke: to put Robin in a position where she had to either go on a date with a man she didn’t like or else turn him down and confirm she was a lesbian? What kind of girl said no to a date with Steve Harrington?

Tammy bit her lip. She had on bright pink lipstick today. It would have looked tacky on anyone else, but it made Tammy look like a pop star. Robin wondered if the lipstick was flavored. She wished she could kiss Tammy and find out.

“You don’t mind if I flirt with him, right?” Tammy asked, echoing Robin’s words at her house last week. So far, Robin hadn’t been invited to girls’ night again. 

Yes, Robin thought. Yes, I mind. I mind so much, but not for the reason that you think. 

“Not at all,” Robin said. “It’s like you said, girl code doesn’t apply to Steve Harrington. Go for it.”

So Tammy kept trying to get Steve’s attention. He was nice to her. He never outright ignored her when she talked to him, but he never talked to her for longer than politeness required. He would always turn away, missing the way Tammy’s face fell. 

And he kept fucking smiling at Robin. Picking up her books when she dropped them. Apologizing to her when he got bagel crumbs on the floor, even though she’d never mentioned how much it annoyed her. Turning to catch her eye when someone said something funny, like he thought she was someone he could share inside jokes with. 

Slowly, Tammy stopped smiling at Robin. She started flicking annoyed glances in Robin’s direction whenever Steve gave Robin attention. Started snapping at Robin whenever Robin tried to sympathize with her about how much of a douchebag Steve Harrington was. Started avoiding Robin unless Robin directly started conversation with her. 

Steve Harrington was ruining everything.

***

“What are you doing?” Robin demanded. She’d chased Steve after Ms. Click’s class, following him to the little alley out by the gym. She was going to be late for math, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk to him before he ruined everything. 

Steve frowned as he lit up a cigarette. “What do you mean?”

“In Click’s class,” Robin said. “Tammy is practically throwing herself at you but you never even look her way. And I don’t talk to you at all, but you keep trying to talk to me.”

A flash of something crossed Steve’s face, but Robin didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions and it was gone in a heartbeat anyway. 

“You don’t want me to talk to you?” Steve asked.

“Yes!” Robin said. “No. I don’t know. Why won’t you flirt with Tammy?”

Steve’s face scrunched up. It was a face Robin had seen before when they were taking tests in class – it meant Steve had no idea what was going on. “You’re upset because I’m not flirting with Tammy Thompson?”

“I don’t get it!” Robin said. “She’s really nice and she’s a good singer and she’s really pretty. Objectively. I mean, she seems like the Steve Harrington type.”

“Right,” Steve said, his lips twitching like she had said something funny. 

“So I don’t get it,” Robin said. “She’s right there, and I don’t even try, but you keep looking. What’s so special about me?”

“Oh,” Steve said, like he had just realized something. “She’s jealous of you.”

Robin shuffled but didn’t say anything. Of course Tammy was jealous. Steve sat next to her every day, did he really not see it?

“And you don’t like that,” Steve continued, like he was figuring something out. Unfortunately, he was figuring out entirely the wrong thing. Robin wasn’t here to talk to Steve about her friendship with Tammy, she was here to find out why Steve didn’t like Tammy and why he seemed to like her. 

“It’s not about me,” Robin said. 

“Right,” Steve said, inhaling his stupid carcinogens. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Robin asked. She was pretty sure she was smarter than Steve Harrington, so she didn’t know why she was the one feeling lost in this conversation. 

Steve stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. “I’ll fix it.”

The late bell rang. Robin wanted to ask Steve what he’d understood from this conversation, but she really did need to go to math class. Arriving late wasn’t a good way to fly under the radar. 

“Okay,” she told Steve, not quite sure what she was agreeing to. 

He gave her another one of those big smiles as she left the alleyway. It made something churn in her gut. 

She wanted to be the kind of girl who got excited when Steve Harrington smiled at her like that. She wanted Tammy Thompson to smile at her like that. She wanted to fall in love with someone who loved her back, and she wanted to not get chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks for it. 

***

The next time Robin walked into Ms. Click’s class, Steve was flirting with Tammy. 

Robin had to stop in the middle of the aisle, feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut. 

Tammy was leaning into Steve’s space, twirling her blonde curls around one finger. Steve was smiling at her, arm stretched over the back of her chair, listening attentively as she spoke. 

Robin forced herself to walk mechanically to her desk. She took her notebook and pencil case out of her backpack and very carefully arranged everything on her desk, doing anything she could to prolong looking up. She didn’t want to watch this. 

After what felt like the longest few minutes of Robin’s life, Ms. Click began talking. Robin risked looking up and saw that Steve had pulled his arm back and Tammy was sitting in her own seat again. 

She couldn't stop seeing them wrapped up in each other. 

At the end of class, Steve walked out quickly, the way he always did. Robin wondered if he always went to smoke behind the gym and that was why he ran away so fast. 

Tammy whirled to Robin, squealing, her face lit up in a beautiful smile. 

“Robin! Did you see that!”

Tammy hadn’t started a conversation with Robin in two weeks. Robin managed a real smile in the face of Tammy’s happiness. 

“I did,” she said. 

“I think he likes me,” Tammy said, almost shy, playing with the bracelets on her wrist. 

“Yeah,” Robin said, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. “I think so too.”

***

The rumors at band practice told Robin that Steve was still flirting with other girls. He seemed particularly interested in Nancy Wheeler, who was a priss and a nerd but who was pretty and definitely his type. He seemed to be slowly wearing her down. 

It made Robin furious. So Steve Harrington had a crush on Nancy Wheeler, fine, that made sense. But if he really liked her, and the rumors said he was absolutely head-over-heels, then what was he doing playing with Tammy and Robin? What the fuck was he up to?

***

A week later, Steve didn’t run out of Click’s class at the first sound of the bell. Instead he turned to Tammy and Robin and said, “I’m having a party at my house tonight. You’re both invited.”

“I’ll think about it,” Tammy said, smiling like this was a game. It was. They all knew Tammy would be going to see Steve and she was just trying to play it cool. 

“Cool,” Steve said. He met Tammy’s eyes, then Robin's. “I’ll see you there.”

Tammy waited until he walked away, then did a little shimmy of excitement. It was kind of lame, but also hopelessly endearing. Robin liked when Tammy didn’t try to act cool around her. 

“You’re going?” Robin asked dully. 

“Of course I’m going!” Tammy said. “This is going to be so much fun! You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, her mouth running before her brain could catch up with it. Tammy wanted her there. What else could she do? “I’ll be there.”

***

Robin got her dad to drop her off at the party. She was willing to bet she was the only teenager being dropped off by their dad, but her parents weren’t the type to be upset about her going out and they trusted her to drink responsibly. Plus, Robin couldn’t drive, so she didn’t know how else she was supposed to get there. 

By the time she arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music came from inside the house and a few people spilled out into the yard. 

Robin headed inside, dodging around a few couples making out against the hallway walls. Tammy was probably here already, right? Robin passed through the kitchen, filling a red solo cup with a tiny amount of vodka and a lot of coke. Jason Carver was there, flirting with Chrissy Cunningham, who was blushing at the attention. 

Robin slipped into the living room and that was where she found Tammy. She was standing against a wall, surrounded by Olivia, Melissa, and Karen. Tammy was holding a red solo cup and staring out at the other end of the living room. 

Robin followed her gave to Steve, who was talking to… Eddie Munson? Robin watched with her jaw slack until Steve came away with a grin and a joint between his fingers. 

That made sense, actually. Of course the only reason Steve Harrington would ever speak to Eddie Munson would be to buy drugs.

Robin went up to Tammy, hovering at the edge of the group as she said “hi.”

“Hey,” Tammy said, giving her a distracted smile. 

“I like your dress,” Robin said. She wanted to say that Tammy looked good, but that wasn’t a safe compliment. 

“Thanks,” Tammy said. “I got it in Indy.”

“It’s cute,” Robin said. It was — pink and ruffled at the edges and unlike anything anyone else was wearing. Something that screamed Tammy Thompson. 

The music went quiet for a moment, and Robin spun around, trying to figure out why. Carol Perkins was standing by the speakers. 

“Let’s play a game!” she said, blowing a bubble with her gum like the picture of teenage insouciance. “Truth or dare.”

She sat on the ground, Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington sitting beside her. A few more jocks joined — Jason and Andy from the basketball team, Chrissy and Fiona from the cheerleading squad. Heather Holloway and Patrick and Brenda. 

“We have to join!” Tammy said. She grabbed Robin’s hand and dragged her over to the circle.

Robin complied in a daze. Tammy was holding her hand. Tammy’s hand was soft and warm and not sweaty at all and Robin could die happy, Tammy’s hand in hers. 

Tammy released her as soon as they got to the circle and Robin felt suddenly bereft, taking a seat mechanically beside her. Melissa, Karen, and Olivia sat on Tammy’s other side. 

Steve Harrington was looking in her direction, eyebrows up, and Robin scowled at him. Steve smiled, hands up like he was saying don’t shoot, and Carol noticed and shot Robin a glare. 

“Tommy,” Steve said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tommy said. 

Steve grinned. “I dare you to let Carol take a body shot off you.”

Tommy scrunched up his face. “Don’t you mean I should take a shot off her?”

Steve blinked, absolutely nothing behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”

So Tommy lay down and balanced a shot glass on his stomach, so low it was practically on his hips, and Carol grabbed it with her mouth, tipping her head back to drink. Robin didn’t like Carol at all, but she had to admit there was something attractive about it, about the long line of Carol’s throat as she drank the shot and the dainty, self-satisfied way she wiped her mouth afterward. 

From there, they kept going around the circle. 

Heather Holloway gave Andy a lap dance. Fiona admitted to having done mushrooms. Jason Carver was dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the circle, which made him turn to Chrissy Cunningham and say “A good girl like you deserves better than some drunken kiss during truth or dare. What do you say I take you out to dinner tomorrow and then give you a kiss on your front porch at the end of the night?”

Chrissy’s smile was disarmingly wide. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Jason said. A few of the boys hollered and whooped, patting Jason on the back and shaking him a little. Jason looked bashful, hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink. 

“Finally!” Carol Perkins said. She turned to Chrissy. “He’s been pining over you since last year and it took him this long to work up the guts to ask you out.”

Jason screeched at Carol, who ignored him and winked at a pleased-looking Chrissy. Robin was hit with the sudden realization that Carol Perkins could be nice, when she wanted to be. 

Melissa got dared to swap clothes with Patrick, Karen revealed she’d shoplifted a pair of earrings once, and Olivia admitted to having made out with a boy in the school janitor’s closet. 

Then it was Tammy’s turn. 

“Truth or dare?” 

“Dare,” Tammy said, something brave in her eyes. 

A few of the girls conferred together — Carol and Heather and Fiona — before turning to Tammy with smiles on their faces. “We dare you to shotgun with Steve.”

Tammy’s eyes went wide. Robin didn’t think Tammy was the type to smoke weed, but Tammy pressed a confident smile onto her face. Maybe she didn’t want to back down from a dare. Maybe she just wanted a chance to press her mouth against Steve Harrington’s. 

Steve looked at her from all the way across the circle — if he, Tommy, and Carol were the North Pole, Tammy and Robin were the South, the antipodal point — and raised the joint questioningly. 

“Okay,” Tammy said. 

Steve took a drag off the joint and crawled across the circle. Tammy met him in the middle and he was gentle as he used one hand to tip her chin up, pressing his lips against hers and exhaling. Robin could only really see the back of Tammy’s head, but she was hit by a burning jealousy at the way Steve so casually touched her. 

It felt like it had been years since Tammy had held her hand. 

Tammy sat back beside Robin, a pleased little smile on her face. 

“Band kid,” Carol said, smiling meanly. “Truth or dare.”

Robin shuffled uncomfortably. So far all the dares had involved some kind of sexual display with the opposite sex and Robin did not want to kiss a boy or give him a lap dance. But she also had a lot of secrets she didn’t really feel like sharing. 

She should pick truth, right? Worst come to worst, she could just lie. It’s not like any of these people would ever know — none of them really knew her. 

“Truth,” Robin said. 

Chrissy started to say something, but Carol spoke over her. “Who was your first kiss?”

Robin’s cheeks flamed. Carol was doing this on purpose. 

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” Robin said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t that unusual, at least in the circles she ran with. 

But Carol reacted with extreme shock, her eyes going wide, her mouth dropping open. “Ever? That’s so sad!”

“Not really,” Robin said. Everyone was staring at her. She’d spent months trying to fly under the radar, and now they were all watching her and it was just as terrible as she’d thought it would be.

Carol kept going. “But why haven’t you kissed anyone? Aren’t there any boys you like?”

It would have been fine if Carol hadn’t paused a little, put more emphasis on the word boys. But Carol knew what she was doing, insinuating exactly what she had when she’d stood with Steve by Robin’s locker. 

Everyone in the circle was staring at Robin. Jason Carver looked disgusted. Tammy pulled back a bit from Robin’s side. 

Robin felt like she was going to throw up.

Then Steve Harrington scoffed. All eyes moved to him, to see what the King was going to say. Steve was relaxed, weight back on one hand, legs kicked out in front of him. “Not everyone is a slut, Carol.”

The like you went unspoken, but Robin saw it land. Carol’s face scrunched up with real hurt for a second, like she wasn’t sure why Steve was attacking her. 

Tommy, sitting between them, gave Steve a what the fuck look as he pulled Carol into his side. 

Steve either didn’t see any of this or pretended not to. He turned to Patrick, sitting next to Robin on the opposite side as Tammy, and said “truth or dare?”

Robin relaxed. It was over, right? They weren’t looking at her anymore?

She glanced around the circle and it seemed like everyone had moved on. A sneaky glance at Tammy showed that she wasn’t sitting as close to Robin as before, but she also wasn’t looking particularly repulsed. Maybe she had just forgotten to move back again. 

Robin didn’t really believe it. 

She tried to calm her racing heart as the next few people went. But when it was Steve Harrington’s turn, she couldn’t help but tune in. 

“Steve,” Tommy Hagan said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Steve said, like every teenage jock ever. 

Carol leaned over and whispered in Tommy’s ear and Tommy grinned. “I dare you to kiss Robin Buckley.”

Robin’s blood turned to ice. Once again, all heads in the circle swiveled to her. 

Robin didn’t want to kiss Steve Harrington. She had been saving her first kiss because she wanted it to be special. She could have pretended to like a boy, to kiss a boy, to date a boy. But she had wanted to save all her firsts for a girl — to have them be real and meaningful instead of a stupid farce. 

She didn’t have a choice though. Not after what Carol had implied earlier. If Robin didn’t kiss Steve, she would practically be confirming that she was a lesbian. 

Robin looked to Carol, who was smirking at her. 

“Yeah,” Robin said shakily. “Okay.”

Steve was watching her intently, something indecipherable in his eyes. He got to his feet and crossed the circle, kneeling down in front of her. 

Robin didn’t think she’d ever been this close to a boy. He smelled like hairspray and beer, and his eyes were brown and serious as she watched her. 

He gave her the same friendly smile he’d been giving her all semester, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. His breath was uncomfortably hot on her skin as he said, “trust me.”

Then he pulled back and squared his shoulders, cocky and unapologetic about it. He smirked around the circle, a boy proud to be showing off that he was kissing a pretty girl. 

Robin was going to throw up. Her heart was pounding and she was going to have to kiss a boy and Steve had been playing games with her all semester. 

Robin closed her eyes, preparing for the kiss and also trying to hide the hot tears she could feel building up. 

She jumped a bit when Steve’s hands landed on her face. He wasn’t holding her jaw delicately like he’d done to Tammy. Both of Steve’s giant palms where splayed across her cheeks, one of them half caught in her hair, dragging it in front of her face. Great. Her first kiss was going to taste like hair and that wasn’t even going to be the worst part of it. 

Robin kept her eyes screwed shut as Steve’s skin pressed against her lips and his nose bumped hers and — those weren’t Steve’s lips. 

Steve was close, yes, so close they were sharing the same air. So close that it probably looked like they were kissing. 

But this was a stage kiss. Steve’s thumb was over Robin’s mouth, his lips pressed to one side and hers to the other. 

Robin opened her eyes in shock. She couldn’t really see Steve — he was too close not to be blurry — but his eyes were pressed closed, brown eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. As if this were a real kiss. 

Where had basketball-playing, prom king Steve Harrington even learned what a stage kiss was? This couldn’t be standard practice for the popular kids — they played these games as an excuse to kiss each other, not to fake it.

And more importantly, why was he doing this? Was he that opposed to kissing her? Or had he somehow noticed her reluctance and decided to protect her while allowing both of them to save face?

Steve used his hands to tilt Robin’s head and she followed without resistance. He pressed closer, moving her back, and they still weren’t kissing but it probably looked like they were making out. Like he was into this. Like she was.

Robin closed her eyes. She could figure out the mystery that was Steve Harrington later. Right now, she had to help Steve sell this. 

She raised her hands to Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her sudden ardor as a request for a real kiss. 

He let out a little moan, his nose brushing hers as he tipped his head, and she smiled against his thumb. Holy shit. They were totally faking it and everyone was going to think she was a good enough kisser to make Steve Harrington moan.

After a long moment, Steve pulled back, simultaneously slipping his thumb to the side so it wouldn’t be over her mouth. 

He stayed in her space a second longer, eyes locked with Robin’s. He seemed pleased with himself, or maybe with her shocked expression. 

He licked his lips and Robin copied him automatically. Her lips tasted like beer and smoke but it was from Steve’s hand, not his lips, and that made all the difference. 

Someone wolf-whistled. 

Steve backed away, returning to his seat next to Tommy Hagan. Robin was speechless as the room returned to focus.

Carol looked pissed. Tommy was elbowing Steve, leaning in to tease him. 

“Damn, Harrington,” said some basketball jock Robin didn’t know. “I didn’t know you were into band nerds.”

“That was a hell of a first kiss,” another one said. 

Steve smiled, cocky and pleased and bashful all at once. He was a better actor than Robin had ever given him credit for. 

Tammy nudged Robin, and that’s when Robin realized she was still staring at Steve, dumb with awe. 

As everyone turned to Tommy Hagan, Tammy leaned in and whispered, “it looks like you really enjoyed that kiss.”

She was trying to smile, trying to gently tease like a friend would, but Robin could see the heartbreak in her expression. Robin wished she could tell Tammy that it had all been for show and that she hadn’t actually kissed Steve, but Tammy had pulled away at the accusation that Robin was a lesbian and only been okay touching her again after that performance of a kiss. 

This wasn’t a world where Robin got to have both Steve and Tammy. 

“Yeah,” Robin said, surprised to find she was telling the truth. She was glad she’d been dared to kiss Steve and not any other boy here. There were apparently layers to Steve Harrington, who she’d thought was nothing more than a pretty, empty-headed, girl-obsessed jock. 

She kind of wanted to know more about him. 

She glanced across the circle. Steve was watching Tommy try to do a handstand, until Tommy overbalanced and fell into Steve’s lap, making him yelp. Steve laughed as he leaned over Tommy, asking if he was okay, and Tommy’s eyes lit up in a way Robin recognized. The way she had probably lit up when Tammy had taken her hand. 

In that moment, Robin felt like she understood something about all of them. 

Carol’s frozen smile as she watched her boyfriend beam at Steve. The way Tommy pretended to fumble a bit climbing off Steve’s lap, if only to stay there a second longer. And Steve’s sharp eyes, catching Tommy’s adoration and Carol’s pain. 

“You’re too high, man,” Steve said, waving his joint in a big circle. Giving Tommy cover in case anyone else had noticed what Robin had. 

“Way too high,” Carol agreed, snatching the joint from Steve’s fingers. She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out, passed the joint back to Steve, and curled into Tommy’s side. 

Tommy and Carol looked like the picture of a happy couple and Robin realized it was another type of performance. Had Carol known before she started dating Tommy? Or had she fallen in love with him first, only realizing he liked Steve when it was too late to stop her heart from being broken?

Robin didn’t want to feel sympathy for Carol Perkins, who had tried so hard to ruin Robin’s night. But she pitied her a little, watching her playact at being happy and realizing that they were all doing it. All these stupid popular kids were just pretending to be shiny, happy people and the rest of the school was buying it, standing too far away to see the imperfections that would have been obvious up close.

Steve met Robin’s eyes across the circle, bringing the joint to his lips. His eyes were perfectly clear, pupils small, not like someone who had been smoking at all. Another slight of hand, like the stage kiss. 

“I think he likes you back,” Tammy said. 

Robin looked at Tammy, who was faking a smile just like the rest of the popular kids. Why hadn’t Robin seen it before? Tammy was brave and Tammy was kind, but she hid those parts of herself, trying to seem just as cookie-cutter perfect as the rest of the people in this circle. 

Robin didn’t want cookie-cutter perfect. She wanted real. 

She still didn’t want to break Tammy’s heart, so she said something she didn’t really believe about Steve. Not anymore.

“Maybe,” Robin said. “But like you said, he’s just a good time. He’ll be over me in two weeks.”

***

On Monday, Robin found Steve at his locker after school. 

His eyes went wide as she came up to him and he smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Robin said. She kicked the toes of her converse together. She’d spent all of yesterday doodling on them while watching tv. Maybe it was stupid, given how close Carol had come to outing her, but Robin was feeling a little bulletproof. She’d written I may not go down in history, but I’ll go down on your sister in pen on the whites of her shoes. 

Steve looked down at her feet and smiled. “Nice artwork.”

Robin froze, even though there was no way Steve could read her shoes while standing up. “Thanks,” she said stiffly. “I thought they could use some, uh, personality?”

“I like them better this way,” Steve said. 

Robin cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, wanna get milkshakes? You’re paying, of course.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “I’ll buy you however many milkshakes you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Do girls really fall for this desperate act?”

“I’m much cooler around girls I’m interested in,” Steve said. Robin believed him this time. He’d put his thumb over her mouth and then swaggered like he’d kissed her and she trusted him in a way she hadn’t before. 

She was dying to know why he’d done it.

“So it’s just your friends that you bribe into liking you,” Robin teased. 

“Yeah,” Steve said, shameless. “Usually more with free rides and arcade money, but I’ve used ice cream before.”

“You’re so weird,” Robin blurted out. Then she froze. It was practically social suicide to call Steve Harrington weird. 

But Steve didn’t get mad. He just laughed and said “you have no idea.”

“Yo, Harrington,” called a  basketball player walking down the hall. “Hurry up, you’ll be late for practice.”

“I’m not going today!” Steve called back. “I’m sick.” He gave a very unconvincing cough. 

The basketball player rolled his eyes. “Lovesick, maybe.”

Steve scowled playfully. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’ll tell Coach you’re too pussy-whipped to play,” the basketball player said. 

“Don’t you dare!” Steve called. Robin expected him to sound more offended at being called pussy-whipped. No teenage boy wanted to be told he would do anything a girl told him to do, even in exchange for sex. And Steve was definitely not getting sex. But the insult rolled off Steve like water off a duck’s back. “Tell him I have the flu.”

“Sure, sure, whatever.” The boy rolled his eyes as he disappeared around the corner. 

Steve closed his locker. “Ready to go?”

“You’re not going to basketball?” 

“No,” Steve said. “We’re getting milkshakes. I’m not giving up a chance to make Robin Buckley my best friend.”

“Aren’t you, like, first chair?” Robin said. She watched a lot of basketball games by virtue of being in band, she knew it was called starting line. But she enjoyed seeing Steve’s face scrunch up at her words.

Steve groaned. “God, that is annoying. Remind me to stop calling Dustin’s campaigns his nerd practices.”

“Who’s Dustin and what are campaigns?”

“A kid I babysit, and a Dungeons and Dragons game.”

Robin blinked. “Dungeons and Dragons? That Hellfire game?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “He’s not in high school yet, so he doesn’t play with Eddie as his DM, but I’m sure he’ll join in a few years.”

DM? Was that some Hellfire term?

Apparently the new Steve Harrington knew the terms to nerd games. He stage-kissed lesbians at parties and thought it was worth skipping basketball practice for a chance to be Robin’s friend.

“Who are you?” Robin asked. “And what have you done with Steve?”

“I’m a time traveller from the future,” Steve said. 

Robin laughed. What a nerd. “No, really.”

Steve started walking backwards down the hallway, keys swinging around his fingers. “I’ll tell you over milkshakes.”

He held a hand out to her, beckoning, a hopeful smile on his face, and it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. Robin had no clue why, but Steve Harrington really wanted to be her friend. 

Robin peeled herself off the lockers and took Steve’s hand, their fingers twining together, letting him pull her outside. 

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #ao3 #because ao3 is down #robin buckley #Steve harrington #carol perkins #stobin #platonic stobin #time travel fanfiction #mia writes fanfic